a story for tomorrow

Ah, Love: Part 5

"Amelie has a strange feeling of absolute harmony. It's a perfect moment. A soft light, a scent in the air, the quiet murmur of the city. A surge of love, an urge to help mankind overcomes her."

S'pose I'll leave it at that.

Ah, Love: Part 4

Guiding points --

Ah, Love: Part 3

Bueller? Thoughts?

"Cameron has never been in love, at least nobody's ever been in love with him. If things don't change for him, he's gonna marry the first girl he lays, and she's gonna treat him like shit, because she will have given him, what he has built up in his mind as the end all be all of human existence. She won't respect him. Cause...You can't respect somebody who kisses your ass. Just doesn't work."

Ah, Love: Part 2

How bout you, Neil?

I see... Truth to them words for sure.  I'll say this: you're an awesome writer and one helluvan imaginative fella' but I have to disagree with you on this one; I think you're missing a HUGE point.  I'll let my man Kahlil tell you why:

When love beckons to you, follow her,
Though her ways are hard and steep.

And when her wings enfold you yield to her,
Though the sword hidden among her pinions
may wound you.

And when she speaks to you believe in her,
Though her voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall she
crucify you. Even as she is for your growth
so is she for your pruning.

Even as he ascends to your height and
caresses your tenderest branches that quiver
in the sun,
So shall she descend to your roots and
shake them in their clinging to the earth.
........
All these things shall love do unto you
that you may know the secrets of your
heart, and in that knowledge become a
fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only
love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover
your nakedness and pass out of love's
threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you
shall laugh, but not all of your laughter,
and weep, but not all of your tears.

Love gives naught but itself and takes
naught but from itself.

Love possesses not nor would it be
possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say,
"God is in my heart," but rather, "I am
in the heart of God."

And think not you can direct the course
of love, for love, if it finds you worthy,
directs your course.
.......
Love has no other desire but to fulfill
itself.
.......   
( from "On Love", The Prophet)

See Neil, from my angle, Love is meant to open us up and affect us incredibly, so that we might "know the secrets of our hearts."  Love often. Take the hit. Be hurt. Love again....  Only way to bloom.

Alsup said it's on you to figure out what love means, to you.  Here's to that uncovering.  Stay tuned.

Ah, Love: Part 1

Ever been in love? Yeah me too. Ah...

The Moment You Know

6 words: I like to scribble in Moleskines.  Something about an "outdated tool" like pen and paper taps into a hidden part of my spirit, a place that computers and bits can't wrangle, and I suppose this blog will never hold the charm of my pocket journals.  In any case, I can attempt to link what I scribe physically and what I throw to the world through this wacky medium.

So the question today - one I have asked on many days before this one - is this:

"What is this moment about?"

My attempt at an answer:

This moment - like all the zillions of moments before and after it - is about, well, whatever it is you are about right now.  And many other things.  This particular moment is about keys and letters and words that wish to tackle a truth.  The rabbit hole barrels deeper, as the moment bleeds into the others, and it's on us to unpack it, the Now, with love and awareness.  And honesty.  Where are you?  Can you easily tap into joy?  What color do you feel?  What does "now" taste like?  This is your year, for it's all you got, because the time is NOW, and you are a living mystery, today.

In order to hear, listen.
In order to see, stare at things.
This moment is wide open and beautiful, so follow it into the next my friend, to and across the verge "like a sinking star beyond the utmost bound of human thought." And there, you will find another equally beautiful and magnificent moment, just waiting to be known.

Search Party

What are we looking for?  Why aren't we happy? Fulfilled?  What is this life about?  Heavy hitting questions, dear sir.

It would seem that most of what we do is seek, and what we find we quickly pocket, scurrying to the next shiny idea.  But is this the best approach to life? I've heard it said that "you are what you seek" and I would back this claim.

A person becomes what he values, what he's after.  I for one see merits in wanting/desire, but I also concur with my Buddhist brethren in stamping attachment a villain.  You can get hung up on many a thing, and while stuckness may bear fruit (thinking Pirsig), it often holds you much too long.  

The story that finds me comes from Tuesday's with Morrie, and it's about a little wave...

So this little wave is bobbing along in the ocean, having a grand old time. He’s enjoying the wind and the fresh air–until he notices the other waves in front of him, crashing against the shore. 

“My God, this is terrible,” the wave says. ‘Look what’s going to happen to me!’

“Then along comes another wave. It sees the first wave, looking grim, and it says to him, ‘Why do you look so sad?’

“The first wave says, ‘You don’t understand! We’re all going to crash! All of us waves are going to be nothing! Isn’t it terrible?’

“The second wave says, ‘No, you don’t understand. You’re not a wave, you’re part of the ocean.’”

Boom!  Little wave didn't know what's up. Lucky his buddy was there :)

Jeff Foster, author and speaker about cool stuff and all-around smart-guy, says that when we seek, we are seeking oneness and completeness, but we're thinking about this in the future tense. "Life as it is right now is not complete!" we proclaim. "'One day' I'll find love/escape from self/completeness/enlightenment."   In truth, we're already there; we already are who we're clamoring to be.

Anything can be used by the seeker to keep the seeking going, and shiny objects abound, believe me.  I really like this, because I know how easy it is to make goals the aim, to make the search the point; but there is a difference between understanding this intellectually and knowing it.  Ultimately, it can't be put into words (silence is equal to noise, Foster says, which is a really abstract and trippy idea), and you must simply live in being, must let go of this "need to find."

Foster argues that it's our SEARCH ITSELF THAT IS THE SENSE OF LACK, SENSE OF HOMESICKNESS, and a search for wholeness is not the answer to incompleteness.  (I have a bit a problem with this, which I'll explain with the quote below.**)

Basically, everything you're experiencing, Foster says, is a wave of the ocean. Every wave in consciousness IS consciousness.  They appear and disappear in the parabolas of your day (my cool analogy :)

A wave in the ocean is a perfect expression of the ocean, though it believes itself and experiences itself  to be separate.  The wave seeks the ocean, looking for love, looking for belonging, and just like us humans, as long as it seeks completeness, it experiences itself as incomplete. (the wave, through seeking home, experiences homesickness).  THE WAVE WON'T FIND THE OCEAN OR BECOME THE OCEAN AND IT WON'T BE  GIVEN THE OCEAN.  THE WAVE IS ALREADY COMPLETE.  

So the takeaway, I suppose: drop the search party to be content, and don't attempt to understand the ocean. Just be the ocean. (very Teddy)

Addendum:

**While I understand that searching itself will not cure the lack we feel, I have a problem with tossing "the search" itself into the rubbish pile to be burned. 
In this passage from Shafak's novel The Forty Rules of Love, the wandering dervish Shams of Tabriz unravels the idea of "searching for God" to a Sufi scholar quite well:

Sufi guy: “I never understand why you dervishes make life so complicated.  If God was with you all along, why did you rummage around the whole time in search of Him?”

Shams: “Because although it is a fact that He cannot be found by seeking, only those who seek can find Him.”

Final takeaway: I am Austin and I am SEEKING GOD...BECAUSE I FOUND HIM.  Life is a search party, whether we like it or not.  We may be able to sneak through the fog and know we're already at the "finish line," but life is where the waves are, as Mama Lazek would say.  Search well, but don't make the search your aim; lean in and surf them crests of curiosity, just don't cling to anything too tightly.  Okole maluna!

To Do

Hope

The most unrealistic person is the cynic, not the dreamer.  Hopefulness only makes sense when it doesn't make sense to be hopeful. - Paul Hawken

Yup.

Six Words

SMITH Magazine began a project back in 2006 called Six Word Memoirs.  Following Hemingway's supposed victory in creating the best six-word story ("Baby shoes for sale: never worn.") SMITH began compiling its own list.

What would life become when spoken in sixes?  Would saying less say more?

What is your six-word memoir? Here's a collection of mine --

Vagabonding gentleman, where doth thy roam?
I trek the magellanic in-between.
And aim to charm the wind.
Men and mountains meet quite frequently.
Jumpin' Jehosephat! I've missed my train.
Only interesting folk ever get lost.
I need to sit and extrapolate.
Found a baby, made a friend.
Took ten shots. Ate the worm.
Inspired by sky, climbed a tree.
Stole her words with a kiss.
Love spun wildly in the night.
I am the wreckage.  Cleanup time.
Want someone to love me back.
Faith in the unfolding, He whispers.
I think six words is enough.
The poem is over. Quiet again.
Found a beginning in my end.

Flipped

"Survivors know, whether they are conscious of it or not, that to live at all is to fly upside down (640 people died in 1999 while choking on food; 320 drowned in the bath tub). You're already flying upside down. You might as well turn on the smoke and have some fun."
- Laurence Gonzales, Deep Survival

**What if everything flips upside down....because nothing at all changed?**

Ayprul Tenth

Dear Casey,
Today is your birthday, a self-proposed universal holiday, where overindulgence on cheddar-bay biscuits is mandate.

Here is your birthday poem:

Casey Wrapped-in-sparks,

driven by the will of the wisp

and the far-flung logic of a dream - 
perhaps she's figured it out.

Perhaps joy can be bottled and the girl's found a way to keep it down.

From my angle, see,

the wild of her smile sprints faster than the sun kissing the horizon goodbye.
You can’t tame that
Dancing on danger, that
Landing on light, that
Flying for fear of not living hard enough.
She's guided by something more

and the gleam of that true heart–
corralling the unbridled
housing the uncontained,
answering the questions you never knew how to ask.

A gleam, Ms. Wrapped-in-sparks, that fires the furnaces of the candle of youth.

For all our sakes, keep it lit.

May this day be as bright as you, dear sister.

Much Love,
Austin
 

Safe Travels

"...believe that the sort of life you wish to live is, at this very moment, just waiting for you to summon it up. And when you wish for it, you begin moving toward it, and it, in turn, begins moving toward you."  - Suzan-Lori Parks

SAFE TRAVELS :)

"Madness"

"They deem me mad because I will not trade my days for gold;
I deem them mad because they think my days have a price."

- Kahlil Gibran

His Response to the Mad Mess of it All

“...So among the waves of tragedy which have crashed on me with her death is a terror that our message of hope has been changed into a dreadful warning. But I must tell you that had I known in the beginning that I would be here today doing this terrible thing, I would still have loved her as unhesitatingly, because true love is worth any price one is asked to pay.

The other message we wished to convey was one of faith in the essential goodness and purpose of life. I have always felt that no matter how inscrutable its ways and means, the universe is working perfectly and working according to a greater plan than we can know.


In the last few days, I have had to battle with the fear that everything is actually just random, that the universe is a howling void of meaningless chaos, indifferent to everything that I value. All hope has at times seemed unjustified to me.

But groundless hope, like unconditional love, is the only kind worth having.


Its true name is faith. As it is a shallow faith which goes untested, so it is that if we can keep our faith through this terrible test, we will emerge with a conviction of enduring strength. And this faith will become Cynthia's greatest gift to us. If we can build with our lives a monument to her light, her gameness, and her love, she will not have died in vain, and her death will become as much a miracle as was her life."

--John Perry Barlow

April 25, 1994

A Rant on the Mad Mess of It All

If this whole mad mess weren’t so effin beautiful I would’ve looked away a long time ago. Instead, I stare. I peer through nuance and subtlety, into the tapestry being sewn into this day.  I peel back the layers of deceit and seeming-chaos in the heart of man and really do see the pretty things. Now you may claim that it’s much easier to write the world off as an arena where even the winners are just losers in denial; you may even find comfort in knowing that everything eventually dies and decays because this fuels your elementary magnetism to nihilism. I shall remark that I too have longed to spout a similar rant on the meaningless of it all, to dismiss our one mechanical existence as predetermined. Unraveling at the fringe. Screwed.  Believe it: I’ve wanted to look away many times as the evidence begins to stack against an urge to stare....But then it happens, often in a cliched opening - a newborn’s eyes or a gardenia in bloom - but still more jarring and lasting in the slight but fierce motion that blindsides you at two in the afternoon.  Just before the river spews over the ledge to the rocks below, light separates us from the void and we know that we are held by something - a force, a thought, a movement - something true and good, something too real and unbridled to claim as our own at any one moment, something we can only exist within. This afternoon-epiphany, this surge of the longing to stare, is - in my translation - the breath of God.  Sure, it’s ephemeral, abstract, trite to a point, but when it fills you, and your sails gain form, nothing else has gravity.  Trust me.

Shine on

I said it even though I only half-believed it - 

"A touch of happiness sheds light on the world.  You owe your joy to the collective."

     
        Why do I owe the world anything?

Do you breathe? Are you breathing just a little?

     
        Well. I mean...

When you breathe, God makes love to you.  You become Life, every moment, as you also bear witness to it, as you have always done.  You owe the world because you are the world, particularly to those who love you.  So keep breathing.  Embrace joy when it finds you. And shine on.

"We must risk delight." - Jack Gilbert