Monday, January 25, 2010

Virtual solitude?

I left my journal in New York. So as circumstances force me to write on the laptop, I figure I may as well blog it. That’s what these things are for anyways, right?

I have no clue really. And frankly, I’m developing a real concern for these public networks. Especially the social ones, like Facebook. What are we accomplishing really exposing ourselves in such ways?

But then again, I have admitted issues with vulnerability. Have written about being like the moon, waxing and waning in stages of revelation. I have talked about love and the pre-requisite state, which I believe to be vulnerability. So maybe my issue is just that, mine. No need to take offense at on-line friend network.

Its just that lately, I have this dreaded sense when I’m on Facebook that I’m just feeding my ego. Saying things so they be heard. Showing things so they be seen. Seeing others so I know where to place myself.

And I’ll be honest, that’s what’s irking me these days. Not Facebook persay, but my Ego. Interrupting my sleep at 3am, Restless. Greeting me each early morning, Ready. The war against my ego and my spirit is waging strong. They cannot co-habitate, and they know it.

I need spiritual food…a good book, some sacred music, and some solitude.

Maybe even virtual solitude.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Between Two Moons

I've been on sabbatical.

My life in LA is on hold and in storage and has been since October of last year.
I worked as hard as I possibly could while living in the Hilton Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas for two months that Fall. Vegas got way colder than I expected, and about a week into the stint I realized I'd be spending the next eight weeks in an adult version of summer camp for yogis. It was an often aggravating and always childish sort of "work" environment. Nonetheless, I shed a layer. Watched the sun rise over Nevada mountains every morning from the twenty-seventh floor of the East Tower. I left once dirty bathroom towels on the floors and returned to a freshly made bed daily. I ate pancakes and bacon at the buffet too many times to admit. I took the elevator to my wine bar. Spent happy hours in the steam room at the spa. And did yoga. Because ultimately that was all we were there to do. So...in some respects, I guess Vegas was the beginning of the sabbatical. And there was the first lesson:
Just do what you are here to do. It is all you can do.

Then Paris. Ahhh...words cannot express. It seems every movie I've watched since I was there makes some reference to that beloved city of all my dreams come true. Or maybe its just me. I can't be sure. But Paris romanced me, enchanted me, exceeded itself beyond my expectations. And in the end, leaving Paris took my breathe away.

Suddenly, it is the new year. Two thousand and ten. The first new decade of the new millenia. And I find myself slowly slowing down. Its like I've come to the end of an epic ride and now I must rest for a moment and get my bearings.
Looking around at it all now, I swear, I have been at this place before.
Or maybe I am just adjusting - to an old but familiar sense of freedom that comes with having unintentionally shed the security of a home, of one address. I've no specific place to be and no immediate needs. So, I can. just. be.
Hmmm. I have been here at this place before.

I've been having these discussions with God about where I am supposed to be. Not like, just in life, but more specifically - geographically, physically, spiritually, etc. And moreso lately, (since this sabbatical began come to think of it), the conclusions are seeming less and less specific.
Be happy. Be adventurous. Be who you want to be. Do what you want to do. Go where you want to go. Enjoy life.

Funny, it was really hard to leave Montmarte, the artsy village where I lived during my stay in Paris, so I visited few tourist attractions. One day after a church service I attended just off George V, I walked along the Champs Elysees. I never saw Le Tour Eiffel, did not visit the Musee du Louvre, but I got pictures of the grand l'Arc de Triomphe. It is impressive, like its city.
The French say, "Courage." Just as Americans know the word. But the French especially, they say it with passion, just as they live. And they say it in very ordinary circumstances. Courage is not just for battle, it is for life.

A cutie at a roulette table in Vegas taught me, the secret to gambling is you can't be afraid to lose. You lose the moment you think you can't win.

Sitting here now, resting between two full moons, I feel like a sea captain plotting her next voyage. Catching my breathe while I watch the waves break and wait for the right tide to ship out.

Monday, January 11, 2010

You can't get back a day,
but you can create a new one
thereby altering the future.
Aren't our dreams, one by one,
mapping out several realities
wherein you are still alive
In what such condition we suppose
is to be determined. Nonetheless,
the perspective is clear. Choose
each day how you will live
and see the fruitful bounty of
your success.