Because He Taught Me How To Listen

I haven't connected with the mathematician in a while.

I had been travelling and working... as well as visiting with family as projects and rehearsal schedules gave space. Is it possible to love someone, miss them... and then get too busy to feel sad? I've been excited and in love with my life and don't feel a need to validate my joy through him or anyone.

I do think of him everyday and hope all is well with him and his studies. He's listened to me like these dandelions that carry wishes away with them. He is so intentional, on purpose and committed to meeting his goals. And I know he is joyful in his solitude as he maintains his focus and builds his future.

And so I write, dance, and practice Albeniz putting my wishes out into the universe. I live, breathe and dream my life in the freedom that I was borne into to think and create. I can only practice trusting in the beauty of life.

Sometimes I cry and feel tired in my frustrations and get passionately caught up in distractions. But never too long to cloud my sense of vision..

Mystic's conversations were interesting and intriguing this past week... We talked about pursuing dreams this week and that they were things that you don't walk away from but rather choose every day despite moods and opinion. I don't know his dreams, his purpose, sense of integrity and intention like the mathematician. But his friendship is valuable and insistent.

And so I listen... like the dandelion that listens for my dreams. These songs we all play from inside are precious.

Because he taught me how to listen

Silence Interrupted

Sitting, waiting, wishing, originally uploaded by NebulaskiN.

I didn't play the piano today. I sat there this morning and simply listened to silence. It seemed to be the right thing to do before leaving for Kay's memorial service.

A very intimate group of 20 friends and family members gathered at the beach. It was perfect that such an artistic and quirky lady like Kay should be celebrated and remembered at her favorite lively place in Malibu. Stories were shared in tribute and my morning silence became tearful laughter with the sound of ocean waves crashing.

It was a beautiful and sad day.

My Daily Meditation

In the spotlight, originally uploaded by Krishna Rama.

This is where I begin my mornings.

I go straight to the piano and sit there for an hour and find my voice. I don't listen to the news. I don't listen to pop radio. I don't know the traffic report.

I'm in my pajamas. I'm in pigtails, a ponytail, or have my hair back in a bandana. I'm in my favorite place.

I'm in my head. And I mostly don't speak to a soul for several hours.

While everyone sits at an altar of morning doomsday news, traffic and weather report praying, getting their groove on ; this piano is where I begin.

I have 95% of Cordoba memorized. I begin it as my meditation every morning and end my day with it as well.

What would the world be like if they began their days in the same fashion? I stopped listening to the world's noise.. it's hard to keep up with and it is exhausting. Instead, I begin the day with the intention of creating myself, creating something out of nothing, following dots on a piece of paper... not following dots...

And simply sounding my favorite thoughts for my first hour.

Because Red Was Her Favorite Color.... Like Me

The lady across the hall passed away.

No one had heard anything of her for several days. The girl above said she hadn't seen Kay out and about for at least 4 or 5 days. The police went to the girl's apartment below to see if they can use her balcony.

I went out and saw that Kay's car was parked and told the paramedics. We waited for the worse as they broke down her door to get into her apartment.

I can still hear the splintering of the wood as they cracked down the door.

Having befriended someone that adopted her as his mom away from Minnesota, it was I who gave him "the call" and to get him to notify the woman's son and daughter. My cell phone became the contact point between family and the police.

But I'm not here to write of her death. Though she died alone, I wanted to share that she was not unnoticed.

Kay was our building manager, very old and suffering from many health challenges. Many of us had offered to help her out but she liked to keep to herself most days. On the times that she was more up to sharing, she was great. And this is what I will remember of her:

Kay's favorite color was red and had her apartment painted cheerfully. Her favorite holiday was Christmas. She didn't care if it wasn't Christmas, everyday was Christmas to her. She used to sing "in the day" and liked to tell stories of her performing days.

She had a story about Stephen Sondheim that I will never know the ending...

Her favorite food was macaroni and cheese and she adored music. The most dressed up I ever saw her was for an evening out to the Hollywood Bowl with friends. She was proud of her children and worried over their health and wished she could see them more often.

She liked to keep to herself and it took time to get these little tidbits in knowing her. And though she died alone and liked to keep to herself, she did not go unnoticed.

Rest in peace... Kay

Un-Narrowing a Space for Conversation

by HD .

Does being a down-to-earth type mean passing on the curiosity and intrigue of altered states?

Life IS a mind game that sobers and intoxicates. Isn't simply living and breathing a perpetual complex chemical process? Then mind-altering drugs is not about issues of right and wrong but rather about being beneficial versus not being beneficial.

As a non-chemical girl, this seems like a logical conclusion.

I don't have a huge reputation nor history of drug experimentation. Does that invalidate my opinion to share my thoughts and my curiosity to observe?

I am the girl who takes vitamins, listens to classical music, and goes to church. To some, those are terms to distrust and deem someone as conservative and intolerant. A helpful euphemism sometimes used is "naive". Doesn't that mildly undermine and blindsight one's self from seeing thinkers that don't necessarily live a lifestlye of chemical experimentation?

If your thoughts bring about prejudices, are you aware of them enough to thank them for their opinion and allow yourself to think freely of your own opinion for a moment?

How narrow is my mind?

How narrow is your mind?

How free is my mind?

How free is your mind?

Am I an unlikely voice for mind altering substances?

I saw something change someone's life. Something out of the ordinary. As I debate writing about it, I wonder if the world is too simple and judgemental to care. Who needs to hear a story about transformation where families re-connect and lives are regained... when the hunger is for misery and pain? Who wants to hear about doctors going against popular politics because they are saving lives by unconventional means?

Somehow in the sane-ness that is my life, I have intersected at a junction that looks like insanity to the common mind but is a portal of possibility under another realm.

Can I un-narrow a space for conversation?

More thoughts to come...

Why Would Anyone Want to Play or Bend Reality?

by Downhillskater.

For someone who rarely touches coffee and soda pops, someone who doesn't care for cigarettes and prefers natural highs over altered states, someone whose alchohol vocabulary is limited to ordering drinks by color...

I feel like PURPLE today... Can you make me a purple cocktail???

I would think that I am an unlikely voice for mind altering substances.

But what do you do when you see something change someone's life? Something out of the ordinary? I debate writing about it. The world is too simple and judgemental.

Who needs to hear a story about transformation where families re-connect and lives are regained... when the hunger is for misery and pain? Who wants to hear about doctors going against popular politics because they are saving lives by unconventional means?

Somehow in the sane-ness that is my life, I have intersected at a junction that looks like insanity to the common mind but is a portal of possibility under another realm.

I am the girl who doesn't drink coffee and doesn't care about the latest fashion cocktail. I've never done acid and being on LSD meant that I was literally driving up Lakeshore Drive.

Shall I share what is on my mind? I debate with myself... How narrow is my mind?

And ...

How narrow is your mind?

More thoughts to come....

On Being Brutally Honest

by *helmen.

What is being brutally honest?

The dictionary defines "brutal" as extremely ruthless or cruel,
or crude and unfeeling,
or harsh and unrelenting,
and lastly as disagreeably precise or penetrating...

My friend encouraged me to go to an open call for an upcoming reality relationship show that is seeking people that are "brutal and honest" and I found it very interesting that everyone has a different flavor of the definition..

For some, being brutally honest is like being like a machete in a relationship with an attitude of take no prisoners, perfect for the ruthless and cruel position.... communication with casualites.... MY MY MY how sophisticated... Now if the goal is to create connection, I would say such "brutal honesty" is not conducive to peace and understanding... if anything it is mindless and unfeeling as well. I would also vote that it is also very disagreeable but may be questionable in being precise.

Precision is a skill. Ask any marksmen, any strategist, any artist, any technician... anyone going for a GOLD MEDAL... precision is distinct from just shooting away.

So I listened to my fellow auditioneers as they displayed proudly their brutality...and wondered if this reality dating show is out to capitalize on pathology and neurosis. I showed up because I've been defined as "brutally honest" by my friends and family. I think I understand myself as the "unrelenting" definition in the game of life and my friends would be in agreement.

Unrelenting means....

having or exhibiting uncompromising determination.

If all of us are dreaming and searching for love, I find it interesting that people are willing to teach people to UNLOVE with their brutal honesty. NO ONE wins in the end with that strategy.

Isn't love a WIN-WIN game? I think you can be brutally honest with someone you love and be loved more for it... and yes, it may be difficult to grow and mistakes and shortcomings will be on the plate... but maybe being unrelenting towards an ideal or target of love can be the best brutality you can practice.

Not Naked Enough?

I find it interesting that no matter how vulnerable and in the space of naked truth I stand, it is still found questionable. Afterall, there REALLY must be something else behind me, something absolutely dark and with ulterior motives.

If I am happy, it's "wrong and not fair to someone else." If the way that I present myself is not in the exact way someone wants and they want to be even more privy, it's judged that I "have trust issues." If I say that I think Life is perfect and that I even see within the dark moments space to feel alive and passionate, I am questioned about my confidence.

Am I the party pooper or am I being pooped on?

"Just who do you think you are, Miss Little Girl?" someone asked last week. At first I wanted to clock him because I didn't like feeling wrong for me being myself. But I got that I wasn't his style and maybe I seem like an alien being in comparison to the world of people in his life.

"I'm being myself."

With everyone having so many styles and different sets of expectations, it makes sense that I live my style and not live for the sake of meeting someone else's expectations. People can be frivolous anyway and change their mind as to what makes them happy and ANYWAY, everyone is growing up and trying to figure out life. We're ALL in our own personal soups.

Thankfully these abrasive moments meet the balm of true friends around me who know how to listen to my nakedness with a bit more grace than the person stepping on my toes. I actually make them happy and that makes friendship conducive. I wish these conflict lovers would get a clue. Oh well.

Here's to the mystery of life.