Watching

mq1 I’m blank today. It is in those moments that I need that oxygen to just breathe, and creativity decides to take a break. Its not that I don’t want to be creative, its just that I’m like an empty gas tank and need a refill. The creativity process for me is very emotional. I process every single encounter and life experience in my head a few times over. I can be doing the simplest task such as dropping off a dress to be altered, and I’ll need to process that experience as if I’ve just been to the moon. I watch every thing I do in life so carefully, as a way to maximize my observations so my curiosity can become a sponge that creates when the creativity bug finally re-arrives. When I was younger, I would get very frustrated with the way my brain insists on watching the world so carefully, but as I get older, I appreciate it greatly and realize that it is that process that makes me take notice of the smallest things as well as the big ones. It is in those smaller encounters that truth lies, and revelation for purpose and for translating spirit into matter takes place. When I’m blank, all I can do is concentrate harder on those observations. Today I plan on concentrating on every detail, every smell, ever color. That is how I stay in the moment and really see the world. That is also how I get my creative mojo back. I watch. Everything.

Julianne Moore doesn’t believe in G-d- (well that makes total sense)

Julianne Moore recently chose to announce to the world that since the death of her 68 year-old mother she does not believe in G-d. She says she has a strong sense that meaning is imposed on a chaotic world.

“I learned when my mother died five years ago that there is no ‘there’ there,” she reflects. “Structure, it’s all imposed. We impose order and narrative on everything in order to understand it. Otherwise, there’s nothing but chaos.”

And why should she believe in a Higher all knowing Power who places a piece of that infinite spirit down in temporary containers known as the human body on earth? Why should she think that infinite spirit lives on and is still realized in another realm making these temporary human lives significant? Why should she care to be significant or have any purpose at all since we are not connected to a higher unknowing misunderstood source- there is really no point to any of this current life at all. And if our falsified significance is merely to tame chaos and create order then it deems rational to say our experiences, words we share, values or deeds we leave behind are not significant either. After all, you can’t have it both ways. We can’t be creatures of a higher purpose or spirit with no significant spirit breathing life into us at the same time.

While we’re on the topic who gives a shit about anything we really do down here at all- since everything is completely random and there is no meaning to any of it, what’s the point of expressing anything on earth since in the end we are mere waiting containers sharing polluted air, eating contaminated corn fed processed whatever that has eventual extinction into dirt only few will remember and fewer will be impacted by. After all, aren’t we just a chain to nothing sharing the path to nowhere? What is the point to creating anything if that’s the case, unless it is for our own selfish amusement to be consumed as quickly as a bag of processed taco chips? What is the point to art or music or film? Since we are creatures disconnected from spirit it is safe to say any art created has no long term significance or attachment to higher self either. In fact I bet Julianne Moore’s movies where she thought she may have made significant impact won’t ever really change the world either- how can you expect to want to change a finite experience? You can comment on a finite journey, but even commenting is futile since we are here temporarily insignificantly and are nonessential, pointless, minuscule irrelevant beings with no real purpose at all.

Ya, I can’t think of a better way to honor her mother’s legacy (a legacy which no longer exists) than by believing in having no higher spirit to give her inherited wasteful life compelling meaningful purpose.

What a preposterous notion to think our courageous narratives are driven by a higher source and are orchestrated by a more advanced consciousness.

Finally an actress who has made a successful career using other’s words, thoughts, experiences and narratives to tell stories conclusively tells us how much life is worth using her own words. No, this shouldn’t scare us at all.

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The climb

I recently took the challenge to climb 282 concrete stairs that make up a steep half mile climb. I did it twice- which means I climbed a mile in stairs. But if you configure that I I had to climb down twice as well in order to get back up, you could actually say I climbed it four times, which would really mean I climbed a total of two miles worth equaling a total of 1,128 steps. (Ya, I know I’m awesome. No I cannot move now)

On my first way up my heart rate burst into breakneck speed way to soon, causing my breathing to overcompensate at an accelerated pace. Obviously I couldn’t do a second climb with little air to lean on. It wasn’t until “the king of the mountain” ( that’s what I called him) coached me from behind encouraging me to “breathe light, breathe light miss – you got this,” that I found my pace.

“Kris The King” was a lean black muscular 57 year old who flew up those stairs more gracefully than a ballerina on her toes. He was also wearing big work boots- I’m gonna blame my tennis shoes on my poor performance so I don’t feel so bad.

For every step I took, he took ten, then would come gliding down the stairs to coach my breathing. He didn’t have to do it, he just thought I could use the extra mantra “breathe light” to get me through it. ( I did) after all he said “I’m just God’s instrument and today His instrument needs to help you get up this mountain-” (thank you Kris the King)

Then it dawned on me how much those stairs reminded me about life- every time I’d look up and see my distance I’d get discouraged, but when I focused and took my time and looked at one step at a time, I felt fine, like I could have gone on all day. Suddenly time and distance did not appear in my head as an obstacle but as a tool. How many of us are discouraged before we even get started because we stare at the obstacles too hard? How many times have we fought so hard to stay on top of our goals that we are literally breathing so hard fighting the gravity -like it has us pinned down? Maybe all we gotta do is look at what’s right in front of us and like Kris The King said- “breathe light.”

When I got to the top the second time Kris the King told me to eat pecans and cantaloupe for breakfast for the rest of my life. He also said I should pack sardines in my car wherever I go.

Don’t know about them sardines but I would like to know where he got those boots. I also told him I’d pay the “breathe light” mantras forward. I kept a telling everyone climbing up past me to do it, but everyone had earphones on so they couldn’t hear me at all. I think they thought I was screaming to “Be Nice”.

*this essay is dedicated to all the Kris Kings who take the time to hold my hand during my life climb. I am grateful to all of you:-)

Warrior Pose

Today I went to yoga. It seems every time I go, I end up breathing deeply because that’s what the yoga instructor tells me to do, and I’m so intimidated of her, because she can stand on her hands while stretching out her legs, balanced on her elbows. It doesn’t help that the entire class manages to do the same acrobatic yoga pose while I sit staring at everyone in disbelief. It is in these moments when my strength is clearly not up to par, I begin to question my ability to evolve. Like how long does it take one to achieve this master elbow pose? Is it 2 years of yoga, maybe 5 or six? Is it even possible? I swear it is in these self-doubting moments that all blood drains from my brain and I begin to wonder if the breaths have caused more anxiety than calmness.

It is at these vulnerable self-defeating moments that I begin to calculate how many days are in a year, and how many days I will probably miss a yoga class, setting my goal to achieve this elbow balance another few decades ahead of me. And that’s when I realize it might not be achievable at all. Suddenly while everyone is saying “OOOOM” in class, I am saying WHAT THE EFFETY Blank BLANK?? And before I know it my yoga practice geared to calm my nerves, leaves me wondering how in the hell I will ever master anything, if I can’t master getting calm during OOOOM. Do you see the spiral here??

Fear has that ability- to completely put you in this space where the word POSSIBILITY does not exist.

So what if I can’t master the elbow pose, who cares- its not like I’ll ever need to balance off a tall building while hanging from a window as a sand storm comes in. Will I ever need strong balance on my elbows to stop from falling to my death at 9,000 feet? You know what, last time I checked I was not working on the set of a Tom Cruise Mission Impossible film. Lets get things into perspective, shall we?

Suddenly I began to re-breathe and realize that if I don’t need that pose, but I just try it for fun, then maybe one day I’ll get there. Maybe one day it might be possible. Its at that moment, that I hear the instructor say “Warrior Pose.” I am standing like a warrior and hearing my own strength breathing into my body. Also I am standing and not balancing on elbows, so there’s that. It is in the stand of “warrior” that I realize the “one day it might be possible” idea is more important than the pose itself.

I’m going to stop trying to achieve it all- and just work at wanting to achieve a little, and the rest of life’s possibilities will become…well-possible.

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Short lived Courage

I climb to the top of the damn mountain- by “climb” I mean stand without a railing on a moving escalator holding on to an inner tube. I get to the top and peer down the suicidal snow hill. A six year old boy hops on his inner tube and flies down the hill fearless as a coyote stealing s’mores from a camp sight.

I let about sixteen more kids by before sitting on my tube. They snare at me with righteous indignation. “Sissy,” they say with their eyes.

I finally sit on my tube- push myself off and wait for the world to fly by like a frightening whirlwind.

I move.

Slowly.

And then it happens.

I’m at the bottom- tush wet- still breathing.

I sit there for a moment staring behind me at the tall hill that I just came from. Proud of myself despite my severe fear of heights-

Bite me hill- I got this.

I’m feeling accomplished, bad ass, wickedly courageous till my kid says-

“Mom- you did great- tomorrow we hit the hill on skiis- standing up-”

Just when you think you beat your fear- there it is rising outta nowhere taunting you like a little prissy girl- a little pain in my ass, snooty, hoity- toity arrogant, stuck-up brat.

So am I going skiing tomorrow?

Hells yes.

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