Creativity Titer

The question has been, "HOW?".

Now that that's out of the way, I remain unsure of many things.  The titer has returned confirming a positive.  My immunity to creative death is strong!

I've been infused with the knowing once again.  I'm infected with a good disease, right to the core of my bones.

Creation Flows.

Yesterday, on the bus a rather strange woman invited me to a party.  She thought I looked down, but I was just tired.  I was good tired from the hard work of creation.  She saw books in my bag and asked me if it was science or history, or what it was that I was studying.  I told her it was singing, and performance and such creative things.  She said she wanted to be like me.  She asked me how.  It finally, truly made sense to me.

The answer is and always was, GO, DO!  It's sometimes called showing up.

Away with the intellectual pondering of potential and possibility.  Go into it with not a thought, but what to sing in this moment, or that.  It's not the song, it's the voice.  It was always the voice.  The voice alone is enough.

Donum of Vox Vocis ~ The Gift of Voice

Now I obsessively repeat, "Today is a good day to sing."  It's my mantra, my melody.

Now I step through every doorway of opportunity, and let it lead me into the mystery.

Tomorrow, I fly south to sing.  

Multiple Solitude? Alone-together?

Maybe it's not alone-together, it's more like isolated-and-lonely-together.  Stop and think about it.  When was the last time you actually LOOKED a stranger in the eyes, even when you really wanted to look?  No, you averted your eyes as soon as their gaze grazed you.  When was the last time someone offered to help you, to REALLY help you, when you were suffering, and I mean someone who wasn't your family member or really good friend?  No, they just stood there watching.  We're afraid of seeing one another, we're afraid of letting our guards down and of making the commitment to live life from the heart, to make real sacrifices for one another.  We are a world of beings playing out a disillusioned and moderate tragedy.  In love we temper ourselves, in politics we whine, in dreams we may fly, only to crash upon waking.  We cheapen our passions by consuming fantasies sold to us in an attempt to make us forget that we have the capacity to create so much of the world we live in.  Economics, nation states, religions; what a strange and convoluted, illusory real game of life, which man has so foolishly entangled himself in.  Even I play in this mummer's farce and I see beyond the veil of all this stupidity.  We really make things more difficult than they need to be.  We love a challenge, but would rather lay fallow and dead as we struggle.  Where is the fire of life?  Where is the passion of our hearts?  We second guess our every move, we over-analyze our choices, then idolize those who leap off the edge and land well, but it can't be us who jump.  We have no trust for others, because in our inability to accept our own role in the pain of our lives, we carry anger and blame and shame and all that crap which closes us off from real connections.  Authenticity is not a city we visit often.  We're suffocating under layers of player paint and the dung-masks of dogma.  Why do I shush myself when I was to sing-scream in the middle of the grocery store?  Why do I stop myself from dancing down the street while caressing the gentle hands of my fellow pedestrians?  I stop, I shush, because, no longer a child, my spirit has been suppressed by the dehydrated, blank, and catatonic despair of a population choked by the chains of the Meta-parent, the ultimate authority, be it God or Science or the State, that allows us to say, "It's not my fault!"  It is our fault!  We created this, we continue to create this, and we have the capacity to change it.  

What is a grown up person?  Is there such a thing as an adult, really?  I wonder, because it seems that we humans so badly need to create stories that keep us as children.  Not the children of loving parents who encourage us to dream and breathe and grow, but of parents who tyrannically control our every move and keep us from becoming beautifully independent, wise souls.  Why, as we age, do we let our lives become dross, colorless, and defeated?  Why do we so mindlessly devour the bland food of our romanceless culture decade after decade?  Why do we continue to rise only to our lowest of dreams?  Our world will stone, tar and feather, hang, or burn a person who lives an authentic life, and then make them heroes in their death.  What kind of necromantic story are we writing for ourselves?  If we cannot live in the ecstasy that the full spectrum of our capabilities as humans offers, what the hell is the point of bothering to exist? 

As we grow, as we age, we should find ourselves more alive, better able to express ourselves, more capable of manifesting our dreams, more inspired and clear.  We can only become such wise elders if we spiral through life's ups and downs, without allowing ourselves to stagnate and fester in one place for too long.  Our society, unfortunately, encourages this bogginess, and does not like it when we free ourselves from the sinkholes of despair.  When we know our own power, we cannot be controlled.

I demand a life of PASSION!  I take my life back from the mass boredom of everyday life and from the stranglehold of "power over".  I invite you to join me in creating a life you can truly love.  I invite you to join me in healing our multiple solitude, by remembering to play and gaze into the eyes of strangers.  I invite you to join me in trusting and giving generously and forgiving imperfections.  I invite you to join me in following our hearts and in shedding the garments of the false "authorities" found in government, religion, families, and other social institutions that have been built upon the fear of real freedom.  I invite you to join me in reclaiming the real magic of life and death and remembering the expansiveness of every last cell of our wildest dreams!

So Be It!

Ten of Swords Revisited

Hindsight is always 20/20.  

Well, yes, I should have known, but again, yet again, I didn't want to KNOW.  

The Ten of Swords, the Knight of Swords, have come and gone.  These cards, among others, signified the deceit, betrayal, lies, intrigue, and the ensuing disappointment I've recently been entangled in.  I was blind to the truth before me.  

One of the skills of great magicians is the ability to see WHAT IS.  It's not easy, because what we fear and what we desire so often combine to create fantastic illusions in the mind.  If we're not able or willing to push through these illusions, we cannot see the TRUTH, even if it's right there, plain as pudding.  We live in a society that favors intellect over intuition, so it's dually hard to respond and act on the intuitive messages and reflexes we receive daily.  The intellect wants control.  It wants to compartmentalize, rationalize, and demystify everything in it's path.  The problem is, when there isn't enough blatantly clear information, the mind too easily fills missing links with flimsy justifications.  Oftentimes, the missing links are more accurately filled with the visceral knowings of intuition.  This is great when one has learned to trust such sensations and can discern between irrational fears and actual knowings.  

I'm learning that I have a long way to go until I am able to trust my intuition.  There is so much I have to learn in order to strike a healthy balance between my intellect and my intuition.  I suppose, I thought I was much further along than I really am.  It is through this experience (about which I am being intentionally vague, to spare myself the humiliation) that I receive a lesson on the beautiful dangers of desire, desperation, need, fantasy, dreams, and romance.  I want to remain a dreamer and a romantic, able to trust in the wonders of the world, but I also need to know how to keep such ideals from running me into the brambles.  

On the other side of these swords (since they always cut both ways), I have found myself in the position to take a different approach.  This is why in my last post, I made a commitment and dedication to my Muse and to my practice as an artist.  I believe, despite lost hopes, I have found a new energy behind these things for which I am so passionate.  My art is something that is real, it's a relationship I've spent a lifetime building, which in recent years was laid to waste in many ways.  It has a solid foundation, but a lot of damage that needs my full attention at the moment.  There's a lot of restoration and redesigning that needs to take place.  Other things that I dream of and desire for my life, don't seem to be manifesting at the moment, and it's important that I open my eyes to WHAT IS, and accept it.  At this point, it's wisest for me to put my faith, trust and energy into something that I can count on.  I can count on the fulfillment that acting on my creative dreams will bring.  Maybe I won't gain the level of success that I dream of, but at least I'll be able to say I did every thing that I could, that I showed up, that I went for it, that I did my best.  Knowing this allows the deep pain in my heart to ease up and gives me enough lift to keep seeing the rainbow behind the clouds.

The Self Beyond

In the last three years or so, the Universe (or whatever you like to call the all encompassing Creative Force) has put me to the task of asking myself a few little questions:

"What do I really want?"

"What is my true essence?"

"Who the hell am I, really?"

"Will I show up (as my dad likes to call it) or will I stay asleep in the painful illusion that sleeping is easier than being fully awake?"

Yep, it's fun times in my head and heart these days! These questions are big, and when I began to be confronted with them, I both enthusiastically and reluctantly ventured to explore them. Deep self-exploration is not an easy road, after all, the most meaningful and adventurous ones rarely are, but the rewards are unquantifiable. This morning, I spoke with one of my great friends and teachers, and she said that being fully authentic is much like being a ring-bearer... being like Frodo. There's a weightiness to coming into true power, which is what "seeing the self beyond the veil" or being who YOU are, is all about. There are massive obstacles created by ourselves and our world, that must be overcome. There are temptations to abuse the power of self-realization to further our self-interests, instead of sharing it for the benefit of all. The journey to our highest potentials is often obscured by fears, conscious and unconscious alike. However, we are not alone in this journey, once we commit to it. This is a good thing, a very good thing. Just as in the story of Frodo and the ring, we must accept support. Though we may have to carry the bulk of the burden, we always have a Samwise (even if he's non-corporeal) and at least a handful of others willing to see us through the fire. On my current journey, many wonderful supporters have worked hard to give me the love and encouragement required to press forward. For this, I'm thankful. Unfortunately, I've also had a handful of Boromir's in my life. Those well-meaning loved-one's who are too blinded by their own fears and/or agendas to give me the objective and unconditional support I need (everyone needs). Other's agendas and fears along with my own investment in them, have helped only in feeding my resistances and self-delusions. These relationships have kept me down, instead of giving me the uplift I need. I don't mean to blame others for my shortcomings, but I do wish to acknowledge how certain relationships can seem beneficial, whist carrying the insidious poisons to destroy, or at least to keep one stuck. Despite all the support I speak of here, it is entirely up to me to decide whether I take on the task of living an authentic life, following my passions, sharing my gifts, and showing up. This is the challenge I have accepted. Although, I have answers to some of the questions above, I won't bother to share them here. The answers change and grow, they shift their focus as I journey forward, and they don't necessarily make logical sense. For this reason, I can only accept the feeling of these answers, the essences. My self beyond the veil is the key to all I am. That self is ever-changing, ever the same. The key is trusting in the essence.