a new residency for this blog @ furrawnflow. a result of arriving at a rich arc in my cycle of self-realization: the anais nin immersion segment. my last visit here was a long and meaningful one that lasted throughout 2010. i started by reading her diaries, turned on by this quote of hers that i stumbled across one day: "When a higher moment comes, all details recede into the background. I never lost sight of the whole. An impeccable dress is made to be lived in, to be torn, wet, stained, crumpled." the words spoke to me; i've always delighted in ignoring clothing codes and in wearing my most precious garments (which are hardly precious) at my most active and creative times like biking or baking or gardening or painting, thus making luxury feel alive and not sterile and removed. of course after falling in love with nin's words, i started listening to old henry miller talks. i also acquired DH Lawrence and Baudelaire and Georges Sand books that I've still yet to dive into. i bought pearlescent nail polish, a red pencil skirt and beige 1940's pumps at the thrift store, reveling in my femininity in a new way: celebrating it rather than objectifying it, something that nin did so well.


what is unique about where i currently am in my journey is that, for once, i am hearing and seeing things in a language that i inherently understand, a language i have mainly used for internal dialogue over the past 32 years. to hear this language spoken aloud or to see it written on a page gives me the feeling of wading into a current that has long been flowing and which has long been pulling me, but from which i've been physically distant. it's a powerful, dynamic and vibrant current, but it's quiet and you must find your way to it because it is impossible to just happen across. you feel its pull for long before you swirl into its waters...


'furrawn' was one of nin's favorite words, a welsh word that she translated to mean: the kind of talk that leads to intimacy. this is something that i seek constantly, and particularly at this time in my life. i hunger for more intimate dialogue and connections with people, perhaps because i feel starved for both. i am a firm believer in being the change, so perhaps if i open, others will too? many of us are so compartmentalized, lacking recognition of the constant flow between our hearts and our heads. but this reality is not up for discussion! we are biologically integrated systems. pretending that we can marginalize how we feel in favor of how we need to act is a fruitless effort. integration is where there is a ripening.

in hopes of ripening my own fruits, i speak in furrawn on this blog. i want people to read and respond; i want this to be one of many avenues that dissolve the barriers to true and meaningful expression and connection. please, if you read this and are moved to, do respond, share, open.

as i mentioned at the beginning of this post, i've arrived at a place that i am vaguely familiar with, with my bags packed entirely differently than last time i visited. but this place is one of exploration and i know that it's less important for me to be properly equipped than it is for me to be, simply, willing to immerse.

it is a place where my appetite for words becomes intense and my desire to express what is alchemizing inside finally manifests into action. 


at this moment, the occupy movement is in action across our country. i will write more to describe how i see it soon, but first, these words from nin which struck me while reading them and thinking about how i fit into the change and energies that surround us now.

in her essay, notes on feminism, nin says: " We waste precious energy in negative rebellions [...] I believe the lasting revolution comes from deep changes in ourselves which influence our collective life [...] I see so many [people] in the movement thinking in obsessional circles about problems which are solvable when one is emotionally free to think and act clearly. Undirected, blind anger and hostility are not effective weapons. They have to be converted into lucid action. Each [person] has to consider [his or her] own problems before [they] can act effectively within [their] radius; otherwise [they] are merely adding the burden of [their] problems to the collective overburdened majority. [Their] individual solution, courage, [becomes] in turn like cellular growth, organic growth. It is added to the general synthesis [...] Many intelligent [people are] alienated by generalizations [...] The group does not always give strength, because it moves only according to the lowest common denominator of understanding. The group weakens the will and annihilates the individual contribution [...] destiny is interior, in our own hands [...] I never gave up on [the] relentless disciplined creation of my awareness because I realized that at the bottom of every failed system to improve the lot of man lies an imperfect, corruptible human being."

more in this vain was shared in her lecture on truth and reality: "Even in the darkest periods of social history, outer events would be changed if we had a center. It is only in the private world that we can learn to alchemize the ugly, the terrible, the horrors of war, the evils and cruelties of man, into a new kind of human being [...] We need to create a center of strength and resistance to disappointments and failures in outward events [...] The world from which we draw our wisdom, our lucidities, our power to act, our courage, is in this other world which is not an escape but a laboratory of the soul [...] Culture tries to make us feel that the active individual  is really endangering the growth of his fellow men [but] for me it was the place where I did my most difficult spiritual work, where I practiced the confrontation of psychological obstacles, in order to be able to act and live in the world without despair and loss of faith. It was the place where I reconstructed what the outer world disintegrated. Because it is just as important to live outside of history as it is to live within it. Because history is only an aggregate of personal hostilities, personal prejudices, personal blindness and irrationality, there are times when we have to live against it. Our American culture [makes] a virtue of living only as extroverts. We [discourage] the inner journey, the quest for a center [...] The creation of this perfect personal world was the root of my inspiration [...] Just as the deep sea diver carries a tank of oxygen, we have to carry the kernel of our individual growth with us into the world in order to withstand the pressures, the shattering pressures of outer experiences [...] 'Whatever we achieve inwardly will change outer reality.'"

shifting. restlessness. rebellion. revolution.

the beginning is near...

the air is saturated with anticipation. and has the eerie calm that precedes great upheaval. our days go on as they have. but we cannot ignore the crumbling of systems and institutions around us. or the rhythm of our collective voice, syncopated with beats of protest and hope.

slowly our connections are becoming more personal, less vague. slowly we are rejecting this false reality and demanding and creating an authentic one. 

i can't help but to meditate repeatedly on: resilience and adaptation. i can't help but to prepare myself to be fully unprepared. and to ready myself to delve into the unimaginable...

you can't have a future if your past is your present.

when i reflect on that statement, i don't feel any pangs of guilt. perhaps i fool myself about certain things, but being rooted in the present is not one of them; i feel that i truly am. and with a present not littered with artifacts from my past, i have a present that is open and resilient, but quite disparate from my past. in the ten years that i've lived in california, i have had at least six different lives...mainly different in the ways i've spent my time, who i've spent it with and how i've presented myself to the world. before coming here, i had maybe one or two lives, but this rapid fire change didn't really start until i began hiking the calligraphic redwood trails of northern california and riding my bicycle late at night down through the rhythmic streets of this  beat city. the vibrations in this place were dissonant enough with the frequencies i was pumping that tiny bits of chaos were persistently created. however, now, as i'm reaching a greater resonance with this city and this place and myself, i am able to look back at this undulation that has been characterizing my life...and i wonder.

i wonder how this penchant for fluidity has effected my relationships with other people. i lament frequently my lack of stable partner, but upon self-examination, i have found that i am forever littering conversations with non-committal and vague speech so as to keep all possibilities within reach. while i have a history, personally, that has shown that i am a loyal and commitment-positive person who gives unduly amounts of love and attention to a partner, in the last couple of years, i've become increasingly skittish about sinking my teeth into any one person. it likely stems from fear or self-consciousness, but i also believe that part of it must just be a natural protection mechanism, keeping me safe and just far enough out of reach until i am ready to emerge from the chrysalis of singledom and into the beautiful dance of true partnership. in any case, i feel myself tapping at the hard cocoon walls with more vitality these days and see signs all around that something that will electrify my heart is at hand...coffee stains and broken leaves and crumpled trash and paint splotches and twisted vines...all in the shapes of hearts. i see them everywhere. to help along the process, i'm trying to communicate more clearly; asking myself before speaking what my intention truly is and trying to convey that rather than just sprinkling out glittery words that can catch the light of meaning in any number of ways. vocalizing with more certainty and less fear.

   

(more to come)

back in a world of peace, quiet, still and calm. of late afternoon yoga sessions on my hardwood floor. of sunset visits to water the gardens and to snip flowers and herbs, reveling in how quickly my tiny plants have grown and adapted to their surroundings; today yielded this season's first crookneck squash and my basil got big enough in the greenhouse to be transplanted outside (i am envisioning it now, outside and exposed to the elements for the first time ever, snuggled beneath the mulch to keep warm...i am hoping some vicious slug or curious bird doesn't harm it!). back in the world of neighbors chatting in the hallway, of muffled sounds from the city streaming in through my window. of dim but cozy lighting, flickering candles and a squeaky bed.

it's somewhat daunting to think that in less than two weeks, i won't have this home base; this apartment has been so wonderful for me for over eight years. i am going to miss it terribly, and am curious to see how my life subtly shifts without the association to this place, as i've only ever lived here while in oakland.

when i moved here in 2003, i was working full time at a biotech company in palo alto, and i was dating aaron, who lived a couple blocks away at 29th and harrison. i was a very different person back then, comfortably wrapped up in the security of a good paying job, but yearning deeply to get closer to my true self. i didn't feel that i fit into my own skin all that well at that time; i was doing a lot of squirming. this little place saw me through the crazy months when i was working full time and going to baking and pastry school; it saw me through two very painful heartbreaks and even more disappointments, but it also saw me through the healing from those. it waited vacantly while i took my first dabbling steps into farming and was my sanctuary when i switched professional gears and started spending my days teaching elementary school gardening and nutrition. it was my only stability at many times; the only thing that remained constant. the meals and baked goods created here in this tiny kitchen were incredible; i ran a business out of my oven and hosted dinner parties with hardwood-floor seating and mason jar wine glasses.

i never completed this entry...

while practicing yoga today, i discovered a place...inside...that i want to remember exists. to get there, my weighty bubble of consciousness traveled slowly from my lower back up my spine and towards my shoulders where it then entered a maze of chaotic freeways whose roads twisted and turned; energies merged and sped up and came to screeching halts...then the bubble took a quick exit onto my back right shoulder and traveled down my arm to my fingers, where each fingertip pressed into the earth with intention; five light connections and a grounding at my palm...i breathed in and in and in, futher than i'd ever breathed in, and held it...then i slowly let out that breath and also let out some expiring mindsets and empty hopes and some stubborn knots of negativity...

i want to write this out. somehow express the tumult within. if i can get it out, get it down, i can make some sense of this. see the purpose. sort through it. but until i do that, i am floating. directionless in this sea of energy. thrown down and turned under by waves that looked so docile in the distance, but which had that eerie calm as they approached, portending the unseen power they carried below their crests. power to upend and twist around. power to turn light into dark. and to bring deep, hidden things to the surface…

i have been struggling a great amount lately; struggling like the little kitten i was just caring for - frustrated but insatiable. this discomfort underlies conscious wanting; this discomfort stems from true need. but for what?

to what end need i go to investigate the power i have over my own destiny? i live alone and have done so for eight years now. i eat most of my meals alone; i sleep alone; i drink wine alone; i laugh alone. i have no problem entertaining myself nor motivating myself to engage in creative projects. i am quite self sufficient and pride myself in the space and freedom that i can give to other people, if only they'll offer the same in return. i carefully choose where to devote my energy and avoid (or wrestle myself out of, if necessary) situations and people which drain my reserves. on one hand, i feel a great pride in my stubbornness and devotion to a path whose end is merely an ever-metamorphosing intuition. on the other hand, i feel a deep regret at having been so in control and having chosen to populate my life mostly with energies that feed me. i've paid homage to misery by living without intimacy for long periods of time. but i feel melancholic that i haven't shared more intimacies and all the good and bad experiences that go along with them, for i feel i have such a great deal to learn about the human spirit...that is, the human spirit that is not my own. i know a great deal about the individual as she relates to the world. but i know little about collective efforts and shared burdens and even simple shared joys. is it too late for me to jump in? and am i willing to let go on the reigns a bit and just be a part of the beautifully messy scene of life without worrying about the agenda in my back pocket? or can i figure out a way to do both? that's what i'd like best. i'd like to jump in, open up, enter the flow...increase my resilience by saying yes, yes, yes and facing the road blocks and speed bumps i most certainly will face...but, and this is crucial and only now am i just realizing it, i will be entering with my own voice. that's it! what i feared for so long in entering this flow...is that i hadn't yet developed my voice. being the textbook youngest child and aquarian that i am, i was loathe to 'yessir' someone else's ideas and i preferred to explore my own questions and perform my own experiments and come to my own conclusions. but now, after all this solitary play, i've developed my own ideas, my own identity...i know how to enforce my boundaries, i have needs and know how to ask to have them met...i am not afraid to lead or to be spontaneous...i have something to say...i have something to say! 

that frustrated need i have been feeling then, is, perhaps, the need to put my arms fully into the new coat of power that i've been growing into for so long...it's irritating having it shawl over my shoulders when i am ready to fully inhabit it...i am ready. i am ready to inhabit myself more fully and to venture into the flow without fear of losing that self...here.i.am.

some small things that have touched my heart in the past few days/weeks:

-yesterday i saw my friends ember and john in the vitamin aisle at whole foods. she was perusing the Vitamin D supplements and he was busying himself by her side, clearly not searching for anything, just being there with her as she looked. i thought to myself how wonderful and special it was that they could do such mundane things together and in such comfort with each other...it seemed that in that moment,  he was simply supporting her as she catered to her own well being...quite special and perhaps easily overlooked, but i feel frequent pangs of being without that, and it hit me right in the old heart. 

-i cracked a walnut open the other day with my rolling pin and the two halves each revealed the inner walnut as a heart. i gave thanks at that moment for life, beauty.

-this morning i made a cookie dough i've never made before: a quinoa/wheat dough with mandarin zest and chocolate flecks. as i folded in the chocolate, i breathed in the rich, nutty aroma of the dough and a deep feeling of groundedness and place rushed through my veins.

-this week, our best gardener at the community gardens decided to give up his plots. i met him for a hand-over and the detail and care with which he described his plants and what they liked and what they needed touched me deeply. at the end of our conversation, he went over to a little crumpled bag by the hose and pulled out folded packets of seeds, a gardening book, an old trowel, a water key and twist ties which he'd religiously used in his days as a gardener there and handed them all over to me...i felt as though i had been given his first born...a mixture of melancholy and deep gratitude...

-last weekend i held a tiny baby rabbit for half an hour as we trudged through the forest. he and his brothers and sisters had been left alone for the weekend and we were taking them to the farm house to be watched over. he nestled his tiny little black head onto my bosom and reached his little paw towards my shoulder...i held him close and could feel his little heart beating.

-last week my dear friend mike sent me a curious package and contained within was some music, four Zots candies and a slingshot. i nearly cried.

-this past week, sorrel and i attended a seed saving class in richmond with rebecca. this woman, who is our mentor and hero, is now a friend...she asked us to pipe up and help instruct the class, and after the class, she shared with us a funny video that her mother had sent her that captured some carrots that she had grown out from rebecca's seed. there we were, three women, bonding over seeds and community. as we left, sorrel rifled through the trash can and pulled out some cardboard that one of the other students had thrown away, letting nothing go to waste. i can still summon the feeling of belonging from that night...