Avatar and Mother Earth

After a long, seemingly endless time in the dark of my own soul, I am emerging again. And I am emerging with anger and ferocity that I have not felt within myself in a long time. It is an anger that guides me toward true north, and helps me to shed all that does not serve.
And now, my anger is in response to the movie "Avatar," which chronicles the destruction of a beautiful planet by the US military, in hope of raping and pillaging the land on that planet for their own greedy purposes. To me, this is the truth of the very story that has been happening right here on Mother Earth, and it is a story that I have been familiar with for a long time. And it is a story that has plunged me into the depths of despair and hopelessness, feeling that there is nothing that I, just one woman, can do to make a difference. But in spite of that hopelessness, this anger is rising within me again, rising like a phoenix from the ashes, pointing me in the direction of my own life's deeper purpose.
This morning an old friend of mine published a comment on his facebook wall about the movie, saying that it was far from a "life changer." He is from the south, a good Christian man, and while that has rarely felt like an intrusion into our friendship, the undercurrents of our vastly different beliefs have surfaced on occasion. And here, I can't help but wonder, do the vast majority of Christians really, truly believe that the Earth is here for our domination and taking, and that it doesn't really matter what happens here, that only what comes beyond this life is of any importance? Because if they do, there is truly no hope for the planet. We will collectively continue to rape and pillage Her until we become extinct ourselves. Do these people *truly* believe that Jesus wants it this way, that this is the will of God? Do they believe that honoring the Earth herself as holy and sacred is profane and dangerous, pagan, even evil? I can't even begin to comprehend that way of thinking and living.
There is no Daddy God in the Sky out there who is going to save our wretched asses from our own foolish actions!!
In order to really "save the environment/planet/Earth" we must move beyond the simple ideas we have implemented that are just not enough. Recycling is good, and should absolutely be required by law...and it's not enough. We must use less, change our attitudes, leave behind our disposable culture. Reusing is essential. We are lazy fucks, for the most part, and need to get over it. Reduction of our waste generation is absolutely required. Wealth does not equal the choice to manufacture endless crap, then cast it aside, and then manufacture more endless crap. That is childish and fickle at best, and is causing great destruction. Beyond this, energy use is changing, too. Hybrid electric vehicles, solar and wind power, and the like are really good steps in the right direction. But we still demand what we want when we want it. What will bring us to CHOOSE to use less, drive less, need less? We are slaves to our comfort, to our convenience, to our whims and desires, and they are costing a great deal more than money.
Ultimately, there is no true solution possible unless we step down from our high pedestal as humans, the dominant species, and become a part of the family of Mother Earth, along with the plants, minerals, waters, and animals. We must drop our human-centric nature, and learn to love the whole Earth as our brothers and sisters, ancestors and children. AHO.

Suffering

I'm sitting here in my bed, right next to Friday, who has claimed one flannel-covered pillow for his own. He's purring and not purring, off and on, and looking up toward the ceiling. Something is in the attic, skittering around. Sounds like a squirrel, too big for a mouse. Right around the time that Familiar kitty was passing, I heard squirrels in the attic - or on the roof, not sure which - all the time. I haven't heard any for a few weeks, though, not until the last couple days. Friday looks so puzzled, his eyes following the skittering beyond the ceiling. I wonder how they get in there!

In the midst of the darkest week I've had in a long time, I did manage to get to yoga class...not one, not two, but three. In spite of the anger and frustration and sadness that have been the most prevalent emotions this week, there is some little voice within me that says, "hey, this used to really be good - do it now!" I'm going to trust that, and also have no expectations.

Yesterday, one of my dismal posts on Facebook asked what people thought life was about. One man replied that life is about learning through suffering. His words hit home right away. I seem to recall that his kitty passed the day before Familiar kitty - so he is surely going through some of the same feelings I have. Learning through suffering. I've sure been feeling the suffering part, but I have wondered all day what it is that I'm learning here...or resisting learning...

One thing that I am clearly resisting learning is that fingers are for loving kitties...not typing! Friday has relocated to my right knee, pushing my keyboard off to the left, and keeps insisting his head under my typing fingers, clearly showing me what really matters. Bless this being. Bless him. He is the best teacher I've got right now, that's for sure. He's given me a reprieve for the moment, and has moved on to licking my hand as I write here.

Suffering. Everything and everyone that I love will leave, die, fall apart. That is the very truth of living, and the very truth of suffering. The more I love, the more pain I will feel when the loving is interrupted. So, there's a part of me (and I doubt I'm alone here) that says "fuck it! What's the point anyway?!" Why love if it's going to hurt so much later. But the truth is that I feel things really big, really deeply. And I've done enough intense, deep spiritual work that there's no turning back now. There's no shutting the door to my heart. It just doesn't make sense, it's no longer an option. And in the reality of that, suffering seems to be the only option. And I think the reason I've been feeling so angry this week is that that really sucks! So, the more I open my heart, the more pain I'm going to feel. Great. Check please...

Today as I was driving in the pouring rain in Baltimore - feeling supremely bitter and pissed off - I thought of two things. First, if life is nothing more than waking up, eating, pooping, and sleeping again, with maybe a bit of working for money thrown in, then FUCK IT! I'm not playing anymore. I will lay in bed all day and piss myself and shit my pants and starve first. I know, it sounds ridiculous. But what's behind that madness and anger is outrage - that I demand that life be more than this, that I absolutely insist that my life have meaning. And that's probably a blessing - the energy of anger pushing through the murk of sorrow. Second, the thought came to me that in spite of the devastation of experiencing death steal away the life of my little buddy while he was in my arms, I have not died. And there is part of me that feels guilty for that, that while my little kitty is gone from this world forever I am here, and am supposed to continue living. But besides that guilty part that feels like I shouldn't go on living, that I should lay in my bed and shit my pants until I die too, there is another part that says, "hey, I'm still here..." and wants to LIVE out loud, fully, richly, just like I always have. One voice says, "shit, get over this, you're wasting your own sweet, precious life!" And another says, "this pain is so deep, you will never survive it."

And beyond those voices and those feelings, there is the sunrise and the sunset, and rain and wind and clouds and starlight, and sunshine. And there is a Magnolia tree watching over the decaying body of a being that was once my dear friend. And that dear friend is probably still lingering somewhere nearby, waiting to show me what I'm supposed to learn next from this whole ordeal.

He came to me in my dreams three nights in a row this week. Once, I was in a high school classroom, with other people who I went to high school with - and there he was, trying to squirm out of my arms, trying to get out into the hallway and explore. Another dream, I was obsessing about his losing weight and being super skinny. I can't recall the other one, exactly. But what was so lovely was touching him - the sensation of having his body in contact with me - that has been what I have longed for and missed so desperately. In spite of all the esoteric teachings - and my own experience - that say that the body is only a shell for the Spirit, it is my full experience in this reality that I relate to other beings by touch, by speaking, by sight and sound - through the physical senses. That is so hard to let go of.

So, what am I learning here through this suffering? A question to continue pondering...

Feeling Lost

I don't like spending time with the dark parts of myself. I am a being who is usually very much drawn to the light. I'm not talking about day and night here, but inner realms and experience. I am not drawn to negativity, pessimism, depression, or hopelessness. Not that I don't experience them in my life, because surely I do. But I am naturally drawn to joy, optimism, love, and effervescence. Angela "Blueskies" is hugely fitting to the state of being that is most natural to me. But it's been quite a while since I inhabited those states of being on a regular basis. My name right now may as well be Angela "Thundercloud."

Anger has been barging its way into the hopelessness and sadness these last few days. At first, I thought it was coming along with my cycle, the usual anger and aggression that often accompany it. But this has lingered and intensified. There is a track in my mind that feels like a tiger, waiting silently, patiently to strike to kill anyone who crosses me in the slightest way. This part imagines confrontations, and imagines scenarios and outcomes that involve tremendous violence in words and actions. Now, I haven't been acting upon any of these scenarios, but I have been watching them, especially these last couple days. I haven't even seen any point in leaving the house. It seems that when I do, unbelievably frustrating things happen.

The question that has been a recurrent mantra in my mind has been "what is the fucking point of any of this?!" I feel like a hamster stuck on a wheel, or at least in a little shitty cage. But I KNOw that I'm that hamster, stuck on a pointless fucking wheel, inside a prison of a shitty cage, and I KNOW that there's more outside of it, and yet I can't seem to find the way.

I have experienced firsthand - in ceremony and in meditation and in community - the most incredible beauty in this world, in this life. I have felt the sublime power of love. I have felt held in the womb of Mother Earth. I have seen things I couldn't have ever believed, and felt things that called into question everything that I have ever known. And in spite of all of that, the death of Familiar kitty has marked life with a heavy darkness. And part of that darkness has disconnected me from those truths that come from living in the Light. I remember them as a novel right now...characters and scenes from a life that are bound to the page, yet not my own.

I posted a question on Facebook the other day: "What gets you out of bed in the morning?" The answers that I received were depressing beyond my imaginings. I also had included an aside to that question, "besides the alarm clock or coffee," hoping to suggest I was looking for the *meaning* of getting out of bed in the morning. Not once person who answered went there. The answers? The dog, the cat, the kid, hunger, needing to pee. And honestly, these are the things that I have been feeling in my life, lately, too. Never before have I felt like I got out of bed for food or a piss. I got out of bed because the light of day pulled my spirit into the world to LIVE. But right now, I am feeling that I, too, get up to eat, poop, and sleep again. And after living my life from a place of intense meaning and connection, living with these things as my drives is the most devastating thing I have ever known.

I cannot wake up in the morning and get out of bed if all there is to my life is eating, pooping, making money, and sleeping again. If that's all there is, then let me die right fucking now.

I already know, somewhere deep inside of me, that there is way, way more to life. But when I try to go there, it's as if I'm dumb or something. Like the part of me that knows that has been blocked off somehow. And yet the question, the longing remains. I know that a new pair of fuzzy boots is a great thing, but it doesn't give meaning to my day. Stuff doesn't give meaning to my day. Material things don't give meaning to my day. Their absence can be a pain in the ass, for sure - as it was tonight, when I discovered that the tape deck in my car no longer works, and that is what I use to play my Ipod - but that's not living and dying. It's a fucking tape deck. And the boots are fucking boots. I also know that getting rich and buying a fancy car and house won't give meaning to my life. It's just more stuff that might make me "comfortable" and make me feel "abundant" but it's essentially just more garbage.

What about finding a partner and having a family? While these things certainly do add some sense of meaning to life, undoubtedly, and provide some sense of structure to daily living that is rooted in living communally, when it comes down to it, unless the deeper meaning of life is clear first, these things just become another path toward material living. Getting the right stuff for the couple, getting the right stuff for the kid. And good god, raising a kid in a material paradigm? That makes me want to die, too...

Anything external, really, is guaranteed NOT to add meaning to life. Those things are just distractions. It's the inner stuff that really gives meaning to my day. And it's relationships, too, the ways that these inner worlds of people (and animals) come together and create the world together. And right now, I am feeling betrayed by that. All those years of loving, and one day it's all gone. It's as if it never happened - except in my heart, that is. How is that fair??? When I go down this track of thinking, then I feel like there's no point to life at all, we're just waiting around to die. And it's no fucking wonder that all the religions have made up things like "heaven." That's the greatest comfort ever, believing that at the end of the line, we'll be reunited all together in one big angelic party, with harps and clouds and that crap. I don't buy it for a minute.

The Buddhists really do lay it all out with no bullshit. Change happens constantly, and there is no external God to believe in. All we can do is accept that everything is going to fall apart, and love in spite of that, with as much compassion as possible. Life is going to pull the rug out from under us again and again. And eventually, it will be our very own body that has the rug pulled out from under it. As much as I try, I can't find anything in that that encourages me to embrace a spiritual path even more fully than before. If anything, I feel inclined to come back to my original question: "what's the point anyway?" I don't buy into any of that heaven and angels crap, and haven't since I was a child. The coddling of religion offers me no solace at all. But I have been spiritually motivated for years - right now, I can't even feel connected to that.

Well, at least I am walking in circles with the question...

Bamboo Flute

I am so fucking angry I could kick a hole in a wall. Or rip a door off the hinges. As if the day didn't start bad enough with me slicing into my finger while trying to cut a bagel...gushing blood as I was already late getting out the door...it got a hell of a lot worse when I got to the school I was working at this morning in DC.

My bamboo flute is cracked and split halfway up the body of it's tube, in four places. This is not the kind of cracking that happens with age and weather. This is from physical damage. It looks to me like someone stepped on it.

The last time I played it was last weekend at Ali and Forrest's potluck and fire circle gathering. And wow! What an amazing jam session that was. And it was probably that very night, while stumbling in the dark, that someone may have stepped on it, unknowingly. I don't remember leaving it in a precarious place, but it was dark, and there were lots of people around. It could have happened a few other times, too...but it really doesn't fucking matter what the details are, when it happened. At some point something happened, and it is severely damaged, and I am furious.

Patrick Olwell is the flutemaker. He used to come to the Maryland Renaissance Festival, and I bought one of his flutes there. This one, though, was a gift from a student...and it became my favorite flute ever. It has been with me as I have travelled across four continents, it has been played in sacred places all over the world. It has been the voice of my soul, as Madre Ayahuasca has opened my creativity, and it has been my pathway beyond the rigid lines of classical music into the world of free musical expression, improvisation, allowing divine music to flow through me. Fuck!! I had just begun to seriously talk with John about doing a recording on this flute, too. Now what do I fucking do?!

Patrick Olwell doesn't make these flutes anymore. I called him a few years ago when a student of mine was wanting one, and he informed me that he only makes wooden flutes now. I dug out his phone number and email today, and have emailed him with my situation. I don't know what to do...I can only hope that he can either miraculously fix this one, or maybe he still has a few old ones still in his shop, or maybe I can convince him to make me one.

You know, if someone stepped on my expensive, fancy silver flute, I would probably not give two shits. But this one...why this one?! And seriously, world, how much more of the most important things in my life must I give up right now??? First Familiar kitty, now this flute? I can't think of a lot of things that mean more to me. If something were to happen to Friday, I would say fuck it all and join the peace corps.

Layers of Mind and Feeling

I just made the difficult decision to extract my laptop from underneath Friday kitty's adorable position...he was so adorable as he sat there, covering most of the machine, as if saying "what...you did want your laptop, right? Well here I am!" Haha! And now, he is positioned partially on my other leg, under the comforter, purring wildly, but still begging with his eyes for my hands to abandon their foolishness and come to him. What a wonderful companion he is!

I am feeling an interesting combination of things right now. Not all are in agreement, either, but they are merely existing side by side within me, and I am making some effort to notice each one. The most noticeable feeling is one of joy and elation. I am feeling empowered, centered in my truth, and clear about my vision for the future, and how I can contribute to that. I am no longer lingering in a place of despair and powerlessness about my country and my culture...I feel that I do have some power to make choices and connect with people to create change, even if it is in small ways. I am grateful for my community and the sense of belonging I feel within it.

I am also feeling a sense of hopelessness, connected to the lingering presence of death's touch in my life. This part of me wonders what the point is anyway, why I should bother to try to make any change at all when in the end each of us will die to this world, pass on, and life will continue as before. And this gives me a sense of deep dread, of low grade fear. It makes it hard to enjoy any of life's gifts when haunted by this darkness. I am also grateful that in this moment, this isn't the most present part of my experience.

Another part of what I have been feeling is anger and outrage. There is a part of me that is not feeling enlightened and tolerant at all. That wants to lash out and judge harshly instead of choosing love and understanding. This part feels very much embodied in its responses, but very much mind-based overall. It is a part that is powerful, but in a power-over sense, not power-with. I let it run rampant for a while yesterday while writing in my journal, and wow, it had some serious harshness to fling about. But in the desire to honor and listen beyond the anger and harshness, I gave it space to offer its words.

One more feeling that I want to acknowledge is a lack of trust. Paranoia. The conspiracy-theory type of fear...one that only dances through the back of my mind now and then. This has been triggered several times as I have seen articles about the swine flu right now. In fact, two of my students are out sick this week with the swine flu. Apparently it targets teenagers...which makes no sense to me at all. So, my mind is off and running. I have read so much about vaccines for this illness, and how harmful and dangerous they are. I have so little faith in the western medical system - which seems to be mostly about business and making money - and it seems totally possible that this whole thing could be a manufactured illness...just another ploy to make money for the pharmaceutical companies, and to deliver even more fear to hundreds of thousands of people, making them more dependent than ever upon pharmaceuticals and vaccines and the like, to give them safety and security. Gah!!!

It is sad to me that it crosses my mind that our government would manufacture an illness and then spread it in hope of feeding much more money into the drug companies. Or even worse...one website suggested that the governments of the world have manufactured this illness together in order to control the population. While I don't tend to give my mind too much freedom to drown in poisonous ideas like these, it has crossed my mind several times. Especially regarding the plans in line for potential mandatory vaccination if the virus becomes a pandemic of a certain level. It seems to me to be absolutely unacceptable that the government would be given control over people's bodies in such a way...it is no different than rape, to me! And not only that, with so many reports of this vaccine for the swine flu being "pushed through" without adequate testing, and filled with chemicals that are potentially very hazardous...every red flag I have is raised. I have never felt clearer that I want NO part of this vaccine...

Phew...okay now...calming down...

What I am noticing behind the specificity of each of these feelings is a pattern. I experience joy when I am focused on the possibilities and creating life as I want to experience it. And I experience fear and anger and hopelessness when I focus on the problems and the ways that life controls me, and leaves me powerless to participate. And I believe in my heart of hearts that the former is the way that I want to live my life. I may not be able to change the world, or the country, or the government, or the culture, or any other human being. But I can change myself. I can do the work I need to do within myself. And I can plant my garden all around, seeing what things emerge as I continue to water them, creating the life I want to live. Power with. Yes.