Everyone has their patterns they want to break; feelings of guilt, revenge, anger, unworthiness, shame. To unlearn the patterns which feed ego, and take action from the heart maybe hard to do.
That’s okay as well, it hasn’t been practiced enough. There isn’t a perfect way to do things, (and those who claim there are, are only feeding their own ego) It’s called a practice for a reason. It’s okay do it wrong, to make mistakes. Know that I thank you for trying and doing. You’re doing great, keep going. I’m sorry for the hard journey ahead.
Unconditional self-forgiveness is a practice of using your heart to change those patterns you want to break. I forgive you for your actions, they come from a place of unloving conditions. Unconditional self-love, holds up all the good and bad of the self, and gives it what it needs. When you do things from the heart, it puts you on the right path. No matter what happens, or has happened, I love you.
It becomes easier the more you do it. Start with yourself to make it better, for everyone.
-An apology/love/forgiveness/thanking letter to myself
Problems and Conflict are filters over our perception
to go back
to that which is familiar
if you only know that one thing
your own story
The weight of most fear is inherited from childhood,
is it time to be the better adult to your younger self?
remove those heavy fear tinted glasses
Recognize that to look with many eyes, from many angles, tells many stories of you and you and you
be grateful to step in other peoples shoes, their travels may have scuffed them in dark places, ensure that you’ve returned them respectfully,
make sure that journey is in a better direction, with less fear, and learn with love
for older you
for current you
for younger you
and especially for other people
that follow blindly
Watch your feet.
Claiming to stand on the shoulders of giants, means you honour and respect the work and effort and tears of those that came before you.
Raising a community means bringing everyone with you. Ugly, beautiful, plain, good, indifferent, bad, young, old – everyone.
Making sure that when you lift the bar, that everyone is holding on.
Watch your feet where you lead people to.
Even when you stood shoulder to shoulder, a hidden agenda is seen, not for everyone. But only for your needs.
Check where you stand, watch your feet.
Are you standing alongside giants?
You probably are pushing your community down, with a foot on someone’s head.
Just to keep your own head above the rising waters of your guilt.
Watch your feet.
The more I stand my ground, the deeper you dig that line between us.
I see the whole shoreline,
trying to find a way to show you
beyond your castle stomping
that all these tiny pieces
of shell and rock and shale
that we both stand on
and collectively a beach.
The soft meeting place between the worlds of Ocean and Ground
where there is endless energy forever moving
and stillness of water coming
the forever shoreline.
And you are digging that line deeper and deeper and deeper, until it will probably swallow you again
just like the last time.
It must be tiring being that angry all the time.
Is drawing that exclusionary border,
that line in the sand,
the only thing you know?
Wouldn’t you rather sit on the beach and build something?
Do one thing that scares you today. Or everything will scare you. Read something that blows your mind or challenges your perspective.
Destroy yourself, only in thoughts, to build yourself again and become better.
Be humble, in a strangers shoes.
Wear coconut sunscreen and glitter.
Have a conversation with your shadow, share some tea.
Dream big, get scared, do it anyways.
Wanna be cool? Pull down your pants and slide on the ice!
Help new people, challenge warriors, listen to veterans, comfort the disturbed.
And above all, disturb the comfortable. Especially your own thoughts.
Make Stuff, Get Excited, Keep Kindful and Elevate On.
The energy that you have, is who you are.
What you concentrate on, reflects your own energy.
It’s said that you are made of the five people that you have the most association with.
There is no difference in energy between people, just how they decide to experience that energy.
The only way to change the pattern of our reactions to those energies, is to be in the moment; and bring a different focus to that moment.
Even if our immediate reaction is from habit, we need to acknowledge that there probably is a better way.
Everybody can do better, when we are focusing on everybody. And not a closed body. To actively set aside memory/reaction, honor it as an experience and choose to create a new change.
Energy will flow, and there are no limits between anything.
What is being created today?
Perfection is an illusion
Hard work is what makes it shine
Doing something badly is better than not doing anything.
Disappointment is only your ego talking
Fear is misguided anticipation.
A story telling workshop with Danica Lorer, given 3 words and to come up with a story. She has these story beads, that have 1 word on them, and then with a little bit of ribbon, you get together with 2 other people then you put a story together.
We (Danica, Myself, and another gentleman) got the words, Forest, Egg and Sunset; and we couldn’t think of anything specific.
Then Danica cheated and grabbed another word.
Now we had a story.
Note – the audio isn’t the greatest, and my delivery is a lot of improv around a couple basic concepts.
Definitely not a last draft, but definitely the only thing lately that I’ve creatively written, even collaboratively.
I’m still here,
A dream visited me last night
The houses of my imagination were flying in the tornados of logic committees.
The warm air was filled with grandma’s cardigan sleeve tissues and crumpled wrappers of juicy fruit the taste is going to move you at the speed of light, hand signed Einstein historical chalkboards
Covered in formulae of regrets, and a side note to research the forgotten art of cleaning chalkboard erasers that were potentially filled with thousands of hours of mistakes.
The flamingos momentarily saved me from the anvils of guilt
Because dream logic
A dream came and left me last night
empty coffee mugs, leaky pens, half finished journals next to empty ramen bowls.
The pixies had learned my computer passwords, and ordered self help books on overcoming procrastination, but got the delivery address wrong
I didn’t have enough time to cancel the order, the package was on a priority vector.
I called it a chewing rubber gum match, and the laws of physics were blue pencil edited
Nothing could break, so my heart was weightless and hovering over a fibbonaci spiral gravity well being
the matter was only in time, the space was nothing more than stillness and waiting without moments.
A dream left a to do list for me
I thought that was rather rude, seeing how I had the grill heated up, avacados charred parallel to the juicy steaks, and I even bought the Dreams favorite beer.
I won’t drink that brand
It always left a longing taste for something else on my spirited pallette.
I’m sure that we did talk about this one day off from anxiety and depression for months now, our usual meeting place
at the corner of daydream and wishful thinking.
The Dream put feet up on coffee table, and picked up the latest draft of the nine worlds that live in my imagination, and said, How does it End?
I replied back, Just like the Theater, it’s a mystery, we just have to wait to find out. Besides, Epiphanies are Personal Apocalypsyes
Rude to long term plans, inconsiderate
Both have momentum and tend to cop out with their own justifications.
I can’t just do it like the time travelling Mystery authors back(work)wards from How it was done. It’s really hard to write consensual polyamourous romantic comedies, without writing tragic hetero-mono-chromatic comic cookie cutter characters that don’t communicate.
Which brings us to the source of comedy, is other peoples conflict.
Terror Schadenfraude is so last season and political, it is overdone.
Somewhere, there is a grease fire of procrastination burning, and the guilt is grilling me.
There is no amount of aloe vera cadabra or hello it’s me again to stop writing ideas
Untold stories turning into black charred leaves scattering to the Four winds.
The Dream left me, with a dirty grill and broken empties to clean up.
A Dream sexted me last night, poorly.
Hot breath, and hands that caressed firm and then softly across arched backs and hips, a symphony of pleasure was playing out in the Australian Opera House, because dream logic. Spray painted in glitter gold letters three stories high
ALL OF THIS IS REAL
signed the Dreaming and the Great Outback.
(Not the steakhouse, or a 50’s rock band, because there was more important things held onto a stake tied down to the outbackyard.)
There was a pre-recorded message from a Rainbow Serpent
with directions to You Are Here, This is Now.
But there was no map quest place to go back
To get close to that moment where everyone was singing in the key of O.
I couldn’t sing
Like I said, a dream sexted me last night. Poorly.
I visited a book today, labelled Dream
By my own hand, the weirding index had chapters
Travel, Write, Laugh, Perform, Lift People Up, Tell Stories.
But today and most days
That book was too heavy to hold, because there are too many other books on top of it
Books labelled Anxiety, Procrastination, Guilt, Unreal Expectation, Perfectionism, Creative Distraction
And a battered, earmarked chapbook titled, ‘It’s really amazing how much wisdom resembles just being too damn tired’.
So I left my personal baggage library, sat outside in the sun, legs crossed, hands on knees, chin up. And tried to still the storms in my mind, ease the spiritual bruises and ache in my heart, step aside from the Dream, and let the tightness out
One breath at a time
And try to get some better sleep