Exponential Adulations

I do this a lot, and I don’t even realize it. I will hark on a subject I feel fondly about religiously. I do this mostly to myself. It’s an inner dialog, and I realize now… I’m tired of listening to my own babble.

I was talking to someone tonight who did nothing but exude the positive assets of his coworker. Even though he was interested in speaking with me, as a person, he forgot that I was there; and spoke only of her and all her amazing qualities.

Jealous? No, I can honestly say. No reason for that, it isn’t that kind of relationship. However, in his long-winded diatribe, I saw myself reflected back in his overly expensive lenses, jabbering on and on, and came to the conclusion that I hate that. Even in myself.

I don’t like the fact that I tend to obsess, even though they are the good things. I can take a freaking spring day and write a book about it. I can be in the throws of new love and think of nothing else for days and weeks and months. I can remember the delicacies of years ago and recall the flavors even now. I think, perhaps, I think too much. And hold on too long.

Maybe I’m just having a cynical day. And maybe not. Maybe this is reality creeping in. And maybe it’s not. 

Either way, I’ve got to shut the hell up or I’m going to drive myself insane. 

Lesson for the day: Think less. Do more.

 

You Do The Bonnaroo

Bonnaroo.

The word “Bonnaroo,”—popularized by New Orleans R&B giant Dr. John with his 1974 album “Desitively Bonnaroo,”—is a Cajun slang word meaning “a really good time.” 

Those that have a vague, or at least, an appreciative understanding – let me say this: Wow.

What an amazing, life-changing, all-encompassing, beautiful, fulfilling experience. And if you haven’t gone, make plans now for 2010. You won’t regret it.

This was my 3rd Bonnaroo, and certainly not my last. What started as a kinda dare, turned into a fascination and evolved into a deep and abiding love for 4 days of stepping outside of the box. Bonnaroo is all that and  more.

People of all ages, races and dispositions come to the 700-acre farm in Tennessee. To name a few: There are mothers and daughters, fathers and sons, young married couples with their newborns, urban hippies wanting to reconnect with the earth, college students on a mission, throwbacks to a simpler time, old and withered hangers-on, and thirty-something wannabes desperately holding onto youth.

Can ya tell which catagory I’m in?

Truth be told, there is no judgement at Bonnaroo. I think that’s part of my admiration for the event. People from all over the world gather on one plot of land, in the middle of nowhere, to just chill. Listen to music. Be happy. And dance, dance, dance.

So, after 3 1/2 hour drive, Jeremy and I pulled up in line. After a 4 hour wait we were on the farm and setting up camp. In the pouring, thundering, lighting, insane wind storm that had oh, so perfect timing.

But we survived, and staked everything down really well – then we went on to explore Centeroo. 

This was Jeremy’s first time, and feeling like an old pro – I enjoyed his reaction to the organized chaos that ensued. Bonnaroo is good at lots of things – but everything at once? Not so much.

I’ve never gotten into Centeroo so early on a Thursday before. We setup in record time, despite the rain (which had subsided at this point).  We checked out Alberta Cross (love them!), then wandered aimlessly for a bit, soaking it all in. 

There’s a lot of ground of cover, so many stages and tents and attractions, it can be overwhelming. But we, like most of the festival-goers, just let it wash over us. In lovely, happy waves of relaxation. Bonnaroo is relaxing: there are no rules per se, there is nowhere that you HAVE to be, there is no curfew or suppose-to’s. 

There is only what you WANT at that moment. And every moment is followed by the next, and the next, and the next. And the next moment found us wandering around the camps, in the pouring rain, looking for our camp at 1am. Lost and wet and tired – we eventually found it (with a few impatient words exchanged), but a good nights sleep in a well-sealed tent on a firmly puffed air mattress made it all better.

Friday was muddy and cool at first, and turned into a sunshine-filled, free for all extravaganza of music.  We found breakfast burritos and back into centeroo for more fun. 

We saw about 23 bands in 4 days. And despite my best efforts, I didn’t see everyone I wanted to. It wears on you – the Bonnaroo. It becomes like a living entity that you have to feed and care for and respect while you’re there. It’s bigger than all of us. Bigger than my imagination, and yet it is real.

And that makes me so, so very happy. 

I have a thousand and one intimate and personal stories about this year’s event, but it’s hard to describe them all. It’s difficult to tell someone what it’s like. It’s akin to when I hear about childbirth, as much as I want to relate, I really can’t. And if you haven’t gone, and I try to describe it, it all seems so… so… lacking.

So, I urge all good, fun-loving, music-minded people to jump and go to bonnaroo. At least once  What do you have to lose?

 

Homebody

Every so often, I’ll be keenly aware just exactly where I’m at. It happens a lot when I’m driving home through little Georgia roads, twisting and turning around farms and giant Magnolia trees. The thoughts come at me all at once:  I live in Georgia! I have a completely different life! I own a home! I have a cat! I have a good job! I own my car!  And it’s then that I turn up the radio and try to soak it all in. Wow, I’ve come along way to get here.

It’s a place that I thought would take so much longer to get to, but here I am. Even when things are difficult and hectic and crazy busy, I’m humbled by gratitude and filled with thanks. Coming home is a ritual that I will never tire of.

Take off shoes, hang up keys, scratch Echo (who’s always stretched on the living room floor waiting for me), rummage through the fridge for dinner possibilities, turn on music and cook.  I pick fresh rosemary and tomatoes from the garden, I manage to not trip over the mewing cat intertwined around my ankles, I relax after a long day. Somehow this process has created itself, and if it’s repetition makes me boring – then let it be so. 

It’s fun when hungry friends come to call, looking for the evening specialty. I enjoy the company, the jokes and the random sharing of life’s tidbits. But I’m perfectly ok to do all this alone, in my spongebob pajamas with my hair in a ponytail. I don’t mind one bit.  There’s a difference between being alone and being lonely. And I am not lonely. 

With a sleeping kitty by my side, a lovely song filling the air and skewered shrimp marinating and begging to be grilled … I say thanks to the generous and loving forces that helped me get here (you know who you are).  Life is delicious these days, and oh, so satisfying.

 

I wouldn’t be me if it weren’t for him

Those are words that I’ve known for a long time, but haven’t had the guts to say out loud. They’re true though. And I’m sure he knows this.

He has that effect on people. He always has. He changes the air when he walks in a room.  He makes people look and listen. One reason why he’s so successful. However, I’ve been blessed enough to have had a good long time with him. And the things I’ve taken with me are plentiful and numerous. And they are all so very good. 

I find myself more often than not remembering the lessons that he taught me. And I find them eternally useful in my dealings now. It’s as if I have been given a peek at some secret code book or something. But there are no secrets, there is but truth, beauty and goodness. And when you share these things, when you know these things, it all becomes so easy. 

And so I have massive amounts of gratitude. For having an open heart, for retaining an open mind, for remembering what I’ve learned, for nurturing the loving relationships in my life … and having the knowledge that he taught me all that. He shares that even today. With everyone. 

I didn’t always like it. I didn’t always want to see it. Sometimes, I resisted and fought and struggled. But truth is truth. Love is love. And both will wait patiently until one is ready.  And that, my friend, is beautiful.

I’m lucky, I am blessed. I have the most gifted teachers. I just hope to be a worthy student.

 

The Storm

One of the happiest memories I have from my childhood is of storms. Thunderstorms, loud and booming did something to my family. The garage door went up and we all piled onto the abandoned third seat from the Suburban, waiting for the show. 

I remember the scent of rain always came first, the trees bent and bushes swayed. The sky took on a frightening gray and I would’ve been scared if I were alone. But I wasn’t. This was one thing that we all did together, that nobody complained about. I don’t even think we ever thought about it – we just knew that if there was a good storm coming, to meet in the garage. 

Our feet got wet and sometimes more, but we hooted and hollered as the lightening came near. They told me it was God bowling, and every flash in the sky was his strike. I didn’t really believe it, but I was in awe nonetheless. Whatever made it happen, was good. 

And the rains came and we inhaled deep, we splashed in nearby puddles and cuddled when chilled. Thunderstorms make me so happy, even now.

It’s storming a good Georgia storm now, and my trees are a’swayin’ and my windowsills are damp with the wind-driven rain. The scent is exactly as I remember, fresh and acrid and clean and I sense a bit of change on the air. 

Storms are like turning points, blowing away the old, making room for the new, nurturing what’s sown.  Echo runs from the thunder, misunderstanding. But I open the windows and turn out the lights, to see it more clearly. To inhale it with every sense I have at my disposal. The power, the natural progression of things is most evident now. I’m a buzz with it, I’m reveling. I hope for more.

 

Introducing the Juicy, Green-Eyed Monster

“Jealousy is a disease, love is a healthy condition. The immature mind often mistakes one for the other, or assumes that the greater the love, the greater the jealousy — in fact, they’re almost incompatible; one emotion hardly leaves room for the other. Both at once can produce unbearable turmoil…”

Robert Heinlein Oh, jealousy. I know you well.  I am happy to report that I haven’t felt horribly jealous in a very, very long time. Ok, maybe I’m jealous that I didn’t get to go to Korea like I had planned, and my sister and niece do. But, that’s probably pretty normal. (I really wanted to go) But I’m happy for them and I know that these things work out the way they do for a reason, so I’m over it. I remember being in a relationship, and being insanely jealous. Jealous of attention that wasn’t given me, jealous of conversations I didn’t get to have, jealous of inside jokes that I didn’t know. Yeah, I had some issues. But I can say, I didn’t develop these thoughts unfounded, they were placed in my lap and my reaction was jealousy. Oh, how it kills the love and trust and respect. But I’ve since moved on, and I’ve looked closely at my jealous tendency. I realize it is insecurity, it is fear, often unfounded (but not always).  I think if we love somebody, we accept them completely. For who they are, who they were and who they are yet to be. We’ve got to let people be – expect nothing. Long-term relationships tend to foster expectation – it’s habit, you learn that as you go.  So, jealousy is kind of normal in a small, tiny way. And even though I understand that, I still don’t get it’s purpose. Why do we feel something that has no use? Even fear has usefulness. But jealousy? What good is it? I have a friend who I love so very much. He’s smart and intuitive and ‘on the ball’. He knows what he wants and who he is. And yet, he’s in a relationship with a crazy, jealous woman. Which is odd to me, considering she is drop-dead gorgeous, stunning really. She’s smart and funny and a good person – and – she loves him. And yet, he has to bear the brunt of her unfounded accusations. She flies into fits of rage at his slightest mention of a woman, or god forbid, an ex girlfriend (even those that are engaged to be married!).  I can understand both sides. I’ve been in relationships with intensely jealous men (and hated it), and I’ve been the crazy, jealous girlfriend. Thankfully, I’m experiencing neither at the moment. If anything, I’ve been given another chance to look at things from the outside.  I like it much better. I can’t say I’ll never feel jealous again, but I will stop myself from reacting to that feeling. I know that it’s in me, as much as love and fear and faith. But it’s up to me, to decode the mysteries of it’s existence and squeeze from it all it’s juicy usefulness.  Ahhh …. the juicy, green-eyed monster.

 

Meeting Consequences (On a Sunny Road)

Sometimes when we’re in the midst of life, we forget how our actions affect us and everyone around us. There are consequences to every decision we make, or don’t make.

I like to visualize the decision-making process, especially when I have a big choice to make. I think about all the branches and tributaries that could possibly form. I think that if I do one thing, there are all these possible effects … and if I do THIS, there are these. I try to follow the large branches down to the tiny twigs, but I cannot prepare for every possibility or every variable.  And very often, something unexpected occurs.

Unexpected doesn’t mean ‘bad’. Just unexpected. Despite massive amounts of forethought, there are things that are not in our control, and in that case, we must succumb to that eventuality with grace. We must meet the consequences with an open mind and hopefully learn something in the process.

Making the decision is the key, You’ve got to choose one or the other. Indecision is one thing that will stunt all forward motion and halt every attempt at growth. I tend to believe that every choice is the correct one – that’s why I made it. If I had made another, that would’ve been correct, too. But I didn’t – so it doesn’t matter.

There are those choices we make that we look back at and think, ‘That probably wasn’t such a good idea.’ And we can pay a hefty price for those. But there’s value in choices that lead us down a difficult path. There’s experience and knowledge and all that good stuff. The trick is to take it all in stride.  Again, I don’t believe in bad decisions – but there are harsh consequences.  And if we run away from taking care of those, we begin to live in a vicious cycle, until the debt is paid or the truth is told or the circle is complete … whatever.

Funny too – there are things we do that we know are wrong, but we do them anyway. And maybe we’ve gotten away with it from time to time, who’s gonna know? Right? But then you do get caught, and there’s hell to pay. Then what? Run and hide? Own up? Yay, More choices. 

I’m glad for the choice I’ve made recently, I feel comfortable with them. The consequences are still yet to form, but when they do, I’m here, waiting.  I’m at peace, knowing that I do the right thing, even when nobody’s looking.

Lord knows, I hate a guilty conscience and I’m a horrible liar. Guess that makes me lucky.

 

Good and Evil, Light and Dark – The Dueling Thoughts

I am driven to write even when there are no fully-formed thoughts in my head.  I’ve a jumble of loose pieces rattling around in my brain, all different colors and shapes and textures. They don’t seem to fit together at this present moment, but I know all too well, they will take shape eventually.

There are chunks of my distant past rolling around in there. Dark and shadowy shapes I’d like to leave be,  but they have been unwillingly thrust into my consciousness.  I’ve processed these things already, I’ve forgiven, I’ve let go and forgotten.  For clarification sake, I’ve had to retell some of these stories, and I find myself now remembering all those horrible feelings.  

I can taste the fear in my mouth, metallic and bitter. It makes me doubt myself, my instincts, just like I did then. I’m looking closely for the betrayal, the lies, the well-hidden truth. I analyze every word and spoken fact, double-checking it against what’s already been given me.  It’s insane.  I do not want to move backwards.

It’s amazing how the body and mind respond to indelible memories. 

And then there are the soft bits floating in my head. All bright and lush and lovely. And to be completely honest – I had forgotten about these parts. All the pain I endured at that time in my life completely wiped out all the good – and there was a lot of good. These things I enjoy remembering. These stories I like to share, these feelings I recall unabashedly and let them wash over me and I can’t help but smile.

What is true is this: all those bad things, all the cause of all that hurt – has fallen away and is no longer. And I’m left with all the goodness.  And all that is right in the world has found me, and is asking me to believe in it. And God, do I want to. Problem is – it all seems a bit too good to be true.  But I don’t want to be doubtful – I want to know that what I am seeing is real. I don’t want to hesitate – I want to follow my well-honed instincts.  But I’m finding that all to be a challenge right now, and I’m not sure why. 

My abilities to reconcile good and evil are obviously not very good. I don’t even think they can be reconciled . Why would I make this harder than it really is?  Why would I mar this moment full of ebullient and gentle love with memories of anger and destruction?  ….yes, we all know, I think way too much.

 

Good ideas that are not

Imagine you spend  weeks pouring gallons of time and energy into a project. You LOVE this project, you think of it constantly. You try to work it out in your head, how to make it better and stronger and more than it is now, it’s your child. You gave birth to it and nurture it and watch it grow. And then, without warning…. it just withers into non-existence.  It lays in memory and nothing more. An idea – a great idea. Gone.

Should I be broken-hearted over something that barely began? Should I start again? Will I ever feel so enraptured?

Perhaps. Perhaps not. 

Disappointment is normal. Work and energy foster expectation and vision feeds the roots. But without providence and a stroke of good luck, all great ideas can lay waste.

I had a good idea. Too bad. 

Guess I’ll have to wait for my next stroke of genius.

 

Connections and Mirrors

The most important thing in my life is my relationships.

The people in my life are gifts, great teachers who I want to love and respect as much as possible. 

I have an uncanny ability to connect with a wide array of different people.  Every person I meet is a gleaming mirror. I see them, and yet, I see myself. And I am in awe every time I meet someone. 

I believe we are all teachers and we are all students. We are all here to teach and to learn, and I take this to heart. I believe I attract people into my life – and often, I’m left wondering why. But sometimes, it’s abundantly clear.  

Either way, there is a lesson in each relationship. And if we are lucky (and paying attention), there are multiple lessons. It is this, this sharing of information and knowledge and humanity, that I desire the most. I suppose that is one reason why I have met so many new people recently … I am hungry.

I have so many different kinds of relationships, and not all of them are honored in the way I would prefer. But I, being only part of the relationship, cannot make choices for others. And so – I let go and let them be what they are.

But there are the mutual relationships, those that kindle and spark and catch fire.  And all you can do to is try to keep up with the unrolling of Selves. I love it when that happens. 

Friend. It’s a word that I mean when I say. And YOU are my friend. I look at people, even the ones I haven’t had the honor of meeting yet, as my friend. And that perception alone seems to draw people near.  I didn’t always do this – In fact, I’m still honing the finer points of this skill, but it’s a valuable one, and I seek to master it. 

I am supportive and open, loving and kind. I listen hard and ask pointed questions (that sometimes cause much contemplation). But most of all – I really want to know. I want to know you. 

Not everyone I meet is prepared for this, not everyone wants it. And that’s ok – we can still be friends. But those that do, please know how much I enjoy the quivery dance of language, the search for seemingly attainable clarity through verbs and adjectives and nouns.  I love this process. Each and every story has it’s color and texture, and I feel completely honored to have the chance to soak it all in.

This is what I do. To some, it is completely foreign and something to be afraid of. They ask me why I would talk to the stinking homeless man, or why I spend so much time chatting up the waitress. Please, rest assured, it’s all benign. Why not? Perhaps they have something to say … and I how would I know unless I asked?

Speaking of homeless men, I have a great story about one in Austin:

Me, standing outside a club, in a throng of hundreds of people – a well-bearded, obviously homeless man approached me.  He said to me, “For some reason I feel like I need to talk to you.” That always gets my attention. So we talk, about where we’re from, what we do (or did), etc. He has a guy with him, younger, cleaner. And not to be rude, I invited him to join the conversation. The younger man was Tim Johnson, a guy I went to high school with – and shared an apartment with briefly. I went all the way from Philadelphia, to Atlanta, to Austin – on one random weekend – to meet a friend I hadn’t seen in 15 years. What are the chances? Thanks to the adept perceptions of his friend, we may have never reconnected. I love it when that happens.

Of course, major misperceptions ensued on Tim’s part. And this happens a lot to me. I seem to be in the right place at the right time more often than not, but it’s often misunderstood just why I am there. It confuses me sometimes too. But I can be honest in saying that I am not here to “save” anyone, much like Tim thought. If I can do anything, it’s only to reflect what’s shown me. I’d like to be a good reminder – about what is and what could be.  Those are the things that I need reminding about… 

I like people. I love stories. I love feeling the connection between us. I feel peace when I remember how we are not separate, but only parts of a whole. I love when I meet a new person, and they look me in the eye and speak my mind like I would’ve. I love it when a complete stranger opens my head and pours in new thoughts and questions. And I so enjoy this inter-connectivity, the stretching of brain cells and tongues to want to understand one another. 

Why else are there BILLIONS of us all over this one, tiny blue-green planet, spinning through this vast thing called the universe?