The Katrina Affair

Today we are one month from Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement in the Jewish New Year/ High Holy Day cycle.
In ancient times, the high priest of Israel would take a goat from the tribes of the people, and energetically place all of the sins of the people into the body of the goat. Then, the priest would nudge the goat off into the direction of a large cliff where the goat would typically (let's just say they made him an offer he couldn't refuse) fall over the edge and die, thereby all of the people's sins would die as well, clearing the slate for another year.

"16:5 And he [Aaron] shall take of the congregation of the children of Israel two kids of the goats for a sin offering, and one ram for a burnt offerings.
7. And he shall take the two goats, and present them before the Eternal at the entrance of the appointed tent.
8. And Aaron shall cast lots upon the two goats; one lot for the Eternal, and one lot for Azazel.
9. And Aaron shall offer the goat upon which the lot for the Eternal fell, and bring it for a sin offering.
10. But the goat, on which the lot fell to Azazel, shall stand alive before the Eternal, to extinguish guilt with it, and to send it forth unto Azazel into the desert.
20. And when he finished extinguishing the guilt for the holy place, and the appointed tent, and the altar, he shall bring the live goat.
21. And Aaron shall lay both his hands upon the head of the live goat, and confess over it all the evil of the children of Israel, and all their transgressions and sins, putting them upon the head of the goat, and shall send it forth into the desert.
22. And the goat shall bear upon it all their evil unto a desolate land; and he shall send forth the goat into the desert."

Hence, we get the word and concept of the "scapegoat."

In 1894, Captain Alfred Dreyfus, an officer on the French general staff, is accused of spying for Germany, France's opponent in the last war. The only evidence is a scrap of paper, retrieved from the wastebasket by a cleaning woman, with handwriting that does not much resemble that of Dreyfus. But Dreyfus is Jewish, the only Jew on the general staff. "And Jews are considered people without a fatherland, insufficiently loyal to the country they live in." Scapegoats.

Today, Michael Brown resigned as the director of FEMA amidst the swirling contempt the nation as a whole seems to be feeling toward the government's lack of efficiency and care following Hurricane Katrina. The matter that has ensued, I would suggest, is akin to a sort of "Katrina Affair," in which scapegoating is committed which turns the attention away from the heart of the matter. Within days following the hurricane, a German politician blasted President Bush instead of sending his kind words to the dead and dying in the Gulf Coast. In spite of his perhaps ill-timed political blast, his suggestion that had W placed more stock in the environmental precursors to the hurricane, then he could wholeheartedly send his condolences. However, it was common knowledge that our hurricanes are growing increasingly violent and deadly as a result of the global warming crisis that continues to be pushed aside as the core of the issue, even apart from the government's cutting budget monies over the past 10 years to reinforce the levy system in New Orleans. No coincidence that levy is synonymous with tax.

Michael Brown was indeed a silly choice for the head of the FEMA folks, having inadequate experience and being generally a slower than necessary individual. However, focusing the ineptness of FEMA on him is silly as well. Five years ago when the US National Forest Service conducted a federally sanctioned practice called a "controlled burn" in order to reduce potentially fire provoking areas of forest in New Mexico, the winds carried it right into the town of Los Alamos; right into the Los Alamos National Laboratories where all kinds of nuclear crap was burned up and sent into our atmosphere. I remember serving with the Red Cross Disaster Relief services during that crisis and finding folks with geiger counters running around between shelters as weird ash was falling on our heads. However, it was the local director of the Forest Service who was scapegoated and blamed for the entire affair. Come on. Things are just not that simple when it comes to our republic.

I'm not in a position to blame anyone for what has occurred in the Gulf region. I do, however, believe that our president has some responsibility at the core of the system and how it has broken down ever since the late chief justice cast the deciding vote to break the back of the US Constitution and put him into office. The system that has supported this country is shattered and there is light to be found and released from each reclaimed shard. What will it take to find these broken pieces of a system that used to work better at keeping us safe and caring for those who needed more care?

As we enter the month of Elul, the Hebrew month of taking stock and evaluating what has worked and what has failed, I pray (not sure to who or what these days but that is for another day) that we the people start to take stock of what we have had and what we are losing by the tankful every day.

Warrior Heart

I spent much of the past 2 weeks watching some of the best tennis I have seen in a while on the US Open. Aside from some of the silly comments the sportscasters make here and there, the watching is good stuff. It's funny what some people call exciting and others call utterly boring. I can't watch golf for more than ten minutes and basketball never carries my interest either. Tennis.

Andre Agassi just lost the final match to Roger Federer in a much more challenging battle for Federer than I had expected. Why? Federer is a superior player than Agassi, this is a hardly contestable fact. However, the folks at CBS never let us forget that Agassi is 35 years old, the second oldest player to ever reach the finals. It wasn't until the last set and after the match was over that one could see how exhausted Agassi was. He was truly wiped out. Sure, that is why they kept saying he is 35 every five minutes.

However, the true beauty of the thing is that it was Agassi's age and WISDOM that made him a formidable opponent. Agassi has been a professional tennis player for twenty years. He has made all kinds of mistakes and played all kinds of tennis players. He is a smart athlete- he is self-aware. He knows when he is acting out, losing sight of his game, needing this or that... he knows himself in a way that 24 year old Federer likely can not yet. He appears to have an inner dialogue not as a critic but as a friend; Agassi has an inner mentor.

I will be 35 in a few months and I am starting, only in the past year, to find my inner mentor. It is not as clear and present as that of Mr. Agassi, however, I am starting to recognize a new entity on the scene in my life. Not judge or executioner, as I have toted around for my whole life and know all too well. There is a new voice within which is much more that of an old friend. Not someone there to TEACH me, rather someone there to REMIND me. This mentor reminds me that I will be ok whether I win the point or lose the point. He doesn't tell me "good shot" when I win one, either. He simply nods and knows that there is another ball coming and another one going. This inner mentor is there simply to be there. Along for the ride and doing it unconditionally.

As I hunker down in the next few months to fully focus on my writing, it is this inner mentor that I hope to spend time with, not the parts of me that are quick to tell me that I missed the point.

Woodshopping

"If it were sufficient to love, things would be too easy. The more one loves, the stronger the absurd grows."
Albert Camus

This has been one of the longest periods of general "non-reflection" I can remember in recent times.
I have barely been writing, journaling or pondering life. I suppose this is a good thing! I needed a break. When it comes to the creative process, dealing creatively with downtime is not always the healthiest, I would imagine. It has been a good break for me, to detach my head and allow myself not to write unique positions on Katrina and George or even about Chief Justice Roberts (ugh, please).

I have also been setting up a new shop, and preparing the way for more flow. This is a good thing. My space is home again, which, after more than 6 months, was starting to wear thin on my general well-being. No one knocks on my door in the morning to change my sheets or adjust my focus. Home is good.

I have been watching the US Open alot this week, which provides me with tremendous satisfaction although I can not explain why other than tennis being my favorite sport to watch and there have been some gripping matches.

I am looking for a used bicycle right now, the old classic euro kind, with straight handlebars and a fat seat, maybe even a basket and a bell! A truly nerdy vehichle is what I'm shooting for. We shall see.

I haven't been reading much either. So, generally, no intellectual input lately. I am a dry sponge. I signed up for a writing group so it would behooveth me to moisten the sponge soon...

So, when this creative respite passes, y'all will be the first to know!

Blessings

all i have to say

interior times

wow- this has been a long stretch without internet access!
I'm back now and look forward to normalizing my creative process again.
This has been a very introspective time for me, and one during which the creativity has been quiet and contemplative...

barbed wire

The consequence most terrible to us all from the primal wounding is not the wounding itself, but the distortion it causes in one's sense of self, and the unconscious compulsion to replay analogs of that relationship over and over later in our lives.
-James Hollis, Swamplands of the Soul

The Valley of Shadows

Into the Valley of Shadows... do i have enough magic points?
I got a massage today for the first time in 6 months. My body had forgotten it was there.

Aslan

Hope through the wardrobe
I used to pray for space ships
if not me then who?



The fantasies that we grew up with as children were written by adults. All of them. From Alice to Hansel and Gretyl to Pinnochio, Jack and all the others. That says a lot.

There are themes in almost all of the fantasies I know about overcoming darkness, breaking through a bad situation and finding some magical gift or secret or help that makes the process more attainable. Carl Jung's most popular book ever written is going to surprise you. It was not his autobiography, not his treatise on the unconscious or on myths. It was his book on the UFO phenomenon in the US. The folks at the Jung Institute coughed and shuffled their feet when they said it, however, I think it speaks to something much bigger. Jung wrote the book describing the collective escapism behind the sightings, and that the flying discs were essentially mandalas in the sky, even a transference of Divinity lost.

I believe that few if any one, knows the answers to such things. Still, myself like many others continue to search for truth and meaning. I do know that the books and stories about children overcoming evil and adversity were my lifeblood as a boy. Has that changed much?

Airborne

Remember being a teen ager and pondering life, its why's and when's and who's... I do. I suppose I pondered those things since I was very young. However, I think I assumed it would make sense by now. I can imagine being 10 years old then, and the notion that 25 years later I wouldn't have the answers is unsettling. The concept of Time is clearly problematic, but then so is the concept of God or Self.

Certain things I know, however they seem to be the kinds of things that are results of being an animal, such as, I start to feel tired or run down so I take Vitamin C and Deep Sleep. Or, I feel like a home is no longer supporting my needs and so I must move on to other areas until I find one that will. There may be some brilliant thread of light in all of that, however, look at any animals and see their brilliance much more clearly ( I saw March of the Penguins today).

So, after a lifetime of asking the questions and redefining my answers routinely, do I know more now than when I began? These blogs are said to be "redefining" journalism in our age. Honey, this ain't journalism. There is, however, a phenomenon around meaning to which these blogs do offer a communal response. Communal, yes. Unified, no. Blogging is closer to group meditation or even prayer, not so much journalism.

There are thousands of folks out there who are reaching their fingertips into the ethers in an attempt to touch the nerve of our race. Not the physical, primal, animal nerve . . . the existential vein that runs through us, feeds us with questions and starves us our answers. And yet, there is a movement occuring which connects the actual thoughts, ideas and feelings of millions of people into a massive energetic abyss. The abyss of meaning has become a cyber melting pot for seekrs and finders from all walks of life, religions, nations, etc. Some people think they have the answers, others think they have the questions. Some wondrous folks believe they have both and that they are right, no less.

I do not believe that I know a whole lot.

I have been "working" on knowing my self for a long time now. Work it has been. No pay, no company car, no free lunch. Choosing to live a life where I constantly fall off my camel, get spit on, pissed on and stepped on, has not been fun. The phenomenon which truly fascinates me, however, is why, why I continue to get back on the camel. For what?

One of my favorite religious ad campaigns is "What Would Jesus Do?" So many great answers possible.
However, the existential question it points to is more important. If the Catholic Church is suggesting that Catholics are to live their lives in the shadow of God, basing their decisions and actions on the model of the "Perfect Son," then that freaks me out quite a bit. Because, in my world, I see posters and bumper stickers all over the place which pose a similar question, "What Would Jeff Do?"

Suffer? Survive? Cry all day and tear down "What would Jesus Do?" posters?

Perhaps I should compare my shortcomings with the Son of God? Not so difficult, really. Does it help, though? If I believed that Jesus of Nazareth was essentially a human god, than it isn't much different from me saying that I am a divine being in a physical body. I'd feel better if the Catholic Church put up posters that said "What Would You Do?"

Surreal Shift

weary from this trek
moving through perceived limits
reordering life

Traveler Safety Tips

Complements of Days Inn:

"Close the Door securely whenever you are in your room and use all of the locking devices provided."

To Jon and Becky

My baby brother got married last night on the island of St. John. In the spirit of going their own way, they held a private ceremony on the beach at sunset with each other and a minister. I wish them great joy, happiness and fertility in all ways.

Making the Retrograde

Whew. Survived another Mercury Retrograde! Time to move things forward again.


" I didn't trust it for a moment,
but I drank it anyways,
the wine of my own poetry.

It gave me the daring to take hold
of the darkness and tear it down
and cut it into little pieces."
- Lalla

I will weep and weep for you, O Mind;
(my Soul) The world hath caught you in its spell.
Though you cling to them with the anchor of steel,
Not even the shadow of the things you love
Will go with you when you are dead.
Why then have you forgot your own true Self ?
- Lalla

The Jeff Offensive

The New York Times reported yesterday that President Bush's approval rating for the war is the same as Johnson's when he decided to begin the pull out of our troops from Vietnam. In fact, the low approval for Johnson was considered such a blow that he declared he would not run again, whether his party chose him as their man or not. I can relate.

My decision to leave my former life was essentially based on similarly low approval ratings. I had made poor decisions, caused casualties and had lost allies. I was using resources to fight my fight that were exhausting myself and those around me. Sure, there were moments when I felt I was doing the right thing, that I would get what I wanted in the end, and that those around me who I had always trusted in the past, just didn't get it this time. However, there comes a time when one must either extricate from a bad situation or go down with a sinking ship.

The humility it takes for me each day to acknowledge that I have been off track is grueling. It is not glorious and ego enhancing. I don't feel like I have made the world a better place, yet. I do believe that in choosing to live in the blare of reality is the only way possible to make this situation better. I can't imagine what would have been had I been president in the past few years and not just me living my life, making my relatively small errors and ommissions.

Would I have committed teenagers to fight my war for me? Would I have snubbed the rest of the world's leaders when they questioned my motives? Would I refuse to listen to those around me when they want to discuss a difference of opinion?

I wish there was a system of checks and balances for the personal decisions I make in life. A Judicial branch to decide if what
I am doing is just and morally right. A legislative branch to argue over and vote on rules, codes and regulations by which to operate in the world. And yet, a smooth executive can still manipulate the whole enchilada, I suppose.

Believe it or not, it's just me

I greatly enjoyed the 1981 TV show "The Greatest American Hero" because it was about an ordinary school teacher who finds a "super suit" which allows him to fly and do supernatural things. I was 10 years old when that show came out, and it fit right into my Superfriends world view, even though at that age, i knew it was "shlocky" writing and acting. It didn't bother me much because I appreciated the concept.

The fantasy around something outside of myself being introduced to my story which somehow makes my life better or more than it is, has been a theme which has recurred for decades. There is such a temptation for me to rely on the words of others, the interpretations of others, the agendas of others, and the truth is that each time I have succumbed to truth beyond myself, it has led to disaster or at least general malaise. The Greatest American Hero is not someone with a magic suit who can fly, it is someone without the suit who can fly. Oh, to be a superhero...

Vacation Time

$415 million total paid vacation days the American Worker forfeited last year, an average of three per worker and a 50% increase from 2003.
328 total paid vacation days George W. Bush has taken (as of Thursday) as president (roughly 20% of his term)
as reported in the Boston Phoenix, 8-12-05

Now, I have been confronting the polarities within me lately, and one of the big dualities I have seen arise over the past 6 or 7 years has been the worker/slacker phenomenon. A significant part of me is a straight work-a-holic, in the mold of both my over-achieving parents who work morning to night, 6 days a week. There is also a strong element in my being that knows that without proper space and time to recharge and pursue the things I love, then I am doomed.

There is a catch to this duality, however. When I have been "in love" with my work, it has felt at times that the work and the nurturing to self are indeed one and the same. This, to me, is the goal of this duality as in most other splits: the movement toward center, toward BALANCE. Matthew Fox wrote an excellent book years ago on the difference between ones work and ones job.

"A job is something we do to get a paycheck and pay our bills. Jobs are legitimate, at times, but work is why we are here in the universe. Work and calling often go together." (The Reinvention of Work : New Vision of Livelihood for Our Time)

When I loved my job, it was because I knew it was also my "work" at the time. But boy, when I began to wake up in the morning and dread going to work, I knew things had changed. I had chosen to create an agency to assist the developmentally disabled which actually was supportive to folks for several years. It was amazing to see how the energy of the organization shifted, as an entity, when my own energy shifted away from that being my "work." It wasn't pretty.



Do you think George W. Bush looks at his presidency as a job or as his work? It has been interesting to watch him deal with Ms. Sheehan, the mother of a slain soldier in Iraq, who has set up camp with anti-war protestors in Crawford, Texas, outside W's vacation ranch. Hard to imagine the president of this nation being able to really take a vacation. Ms. Sheehan's group has even paid $15,000 for local cable TV ads this week which will run on W's leisure time tube tinkling... His job will follow him deep into his vacation. (Click on "Vacation Time" for instant documentary video on protest)

However, if it is indeed his WORK and not just his JOB, it would seem to me that this is something one would be more receptive to as it is part of one's path. Like him or not, agree with him or not, I think it is his basic politics of not dealing with those of us who disagree with him and his policies head on that sucks. The fact that Sheehan is sitting outside his ranch in the hot sun every day has become her WORK, her calling. W, by driving by human beings outside his house every day in order to go to million dollar fundraising barbecues and ignore them, seems to be stuck in a JOB he may not be attached to as a calling, anymore.

Just Sit There

Just sit there right now.
Don't do a thing. Just rest.

For your separation from God
Is the hardest work in this world.

Let me bring you trays of food
and something that you like to drink.

You can use my soft words
as a cushion
for your head.
Hafiz

Ragged Edges

"authentic suffering is a realistic response to the ragged edges of being. the purpose of therapy is not, then, to remove suffering but TO MOVE THROUGH IT to an enlarged consciousness that can sustain the polarity of painful opposites."
James Hollis, Swamplands of the Soul

my being feels a bit ragged lately, and one of the reasons I believe is the consciousness around my polarity, the split within me of cracks in my self, in my personality, my truth, my integrity as a vessel. The mythos around Chiron, the wounded healer, is appropos.

Duality

Choice is one of those elements of Freedom which can be a subtle prison. So often in my life I have felt paralyzed by having too many choices. Well, I could do ANYTHING... I could live ANYWHERE...! I once had a rabbi describe the difference between good and evil as being far from black and white, and much more akin to white and "off-white." Subtle shades can be most insidious as the proximity to the center path can be dangerously close and thus even more seductive a temptation or distraction.

I always liked the Tao symbol as it truly represents the movement from light to dark and the essence being that when we grow deeper into the light, the dark is right there swishing around as well. Yin is intimately related to Yang. Inseperable dualities.


Sometimes it seems an absurd concept that one person can be both evil and good at the same moment, seeking the good in self and others as well as wreaking havoc on others, doing harm... Dual Display.

Burn the Mother Down

This is a photo of an Iraqi after he blew up an oil rig. He seems a little excited about it. He also looks a little maniacal. Sometimes I feel like that...

So, Malcolm X.

For a while, he seemed like a leader in the tradition of Martin. He had come out of prison preaching change, freedom and empowerment. Then, there was a point where "by any means necessary" became a decisive split from the nonviolent insistence of MLK. Malcolm, understandably, felt he could not wait for the system to come around. He felt it was time to push. Push hard. Whatever it takes.

"Be peaceful, be courteous, obey the law, respect everyone; but if someone puts his hand on you, send him to the cemetery."

Malcolm X, Malcolm X Speaks, 1965


When I arrived at Colgate University as a freshman in 1988, I thought I was on my way to become an investment banker on Wall St. Within several months I considered dropping out, transferring to UCLA film school or becoming a psychologist. I remember telling my parents of this development on their first visit to campus. "I just never thought my son would end up like this," my mother offered. "But we've paid for the semester already!" said father. I stayed at Colgate. The movement was beginning, but I was still attached to the "right way." However, slowly, and perhaps insidiously, my inner sleeper cell began to chip away at the Man. I made the fateful decision to not pledge a fraternity and "go Greek" as they put it then, a decision which changed my experience within the college ecosystem tremendously. Suddenly, I was moving against the grain. A majority of friends I had made early in my college days no longer spoke to me at the cafeteria, in classes, walking on the quad. I had become, an Independent.

I lived for 2 years at the Ralph Bunche Peace Cooperative at Colgate. This was a large house (formerly a frat house I'm sure) filled with misfits and peaceniks from all sectors of the college demography. I felt at home for the first time at college. Because I was surrounded by people who agreed to disagree about just about everything. Because we were the Peace House, we hosted all sorts of meetings and rallies protesting the Gulf War. We also had strong showings at anti-Greek rallies and Take Back the Night events. We were co-ed, multi-racial, multi-ethnic, multi-everything really. We had a coffee house in the basement and hosted folk singers. You know who we were.

I put up a huge US flag on my wall. There was a huge uproar in the house. I defended the gesture as a reminder to us that it was the nation we lived in which allowed us the freedom to fight it from within, and most folks quieted down. I was also someone who enjoyed cooking the vegetarian meals for the house and going to Burger King for a cheeseburger after the homemade hummus and sprouts. I also frequented BK's restroom because some days, I couldn't reconcile my inner needs with the co-ed bathrooms at the Peace House. It was funny on Ally McBeal, but was mostly embarrassing in real life. I might do it differently now, but when I was 20 years old, my openness to such things was just emerging. Literally, really.

"Nobody can give you freedom. Nobody can give you equality or justice or anything. If you're a man, you take it."
Malcolm X, Malcolm X Speaks, 1965

The path that I have chosen to walk has had its ups and downs to say the least. I have pretty much made it a point since college to be "an Independent." What does that mean? It means that I have typically gone against the grain. A year ago, I began to realize that I had gotten off track in my life. My company which provided services to the Developmentally Disabled had begun to look and act like the other ones I had railed against for reform. My primary relationship was an endless nightmare from which I never seemed to be able to awaken. I was unhappy going to work in the morning and unhappy coming home at night. It had to change, by any means necessary.

I left it all.

Now, after the dust has settled (mostly) I am once again against the grain. An independent. Independent what? Dunno yet.

Sometimes, the non-violent way takes a long time. Sometimes, the violent way leads to more violence. However, the two are sides of the same coin. Malcolm and Martin gave balance to the Whole as extremes of the process. They complemented each other as opposing approaches to a mutual problem. Was one right and the other wrong?

I am living in the wake of a major, perhaps violent, upheaval of my life. I sat for many, many months and years, hoping my non-violent, "spiritual" approach to my situation would create the change I wanted to see. I used words like Trust, Faith, Allowance, and Patience. It sucked. In the past year, I have used words like Action, Necessity, Radical, Severing. While the violent intensity of cutting the tethers and sending my raft out into the sea was difficult, it was and continues to be, movement. There is change happening. It isn't pretty. It is against the grain. Perhaps it is a little bit Martin and a little bit Malcolm.

shake a leg

stale smelling carpet
love for freedom has its days
i am not my wounds

(click on title for no "hassle")

Freedom From Having a Home

For centuries we have been spoon-fed by our teachers, by our authorities, by our books, our saints. We say, “Tell me all about it – what lies behind the hills and the mountains and the earth?’ and we are satisfied with their descriptions, which means that we live on words and our life is shallow and empty. We are second-hand people. We have lived on what we have been told, either guided by our inclinations, our tendencies, or compelled to accept by circumstances and environment. We are the result of all kinds of influences and there is nothing new in us, nothing that we have discovered for ourselves; nothing original, pristine, clear.
Krishnamurti

(Yeah, well, there is definitely some freedom these days in not having a home. And on the other hand, it would be nice to have a home again. It has been over four months since I have had a place to call home. )

The primary cause of disorder in ourselves is the seeking of reality promised by another. . .It is a most extraordinary thing that although most of us are opposed to political tyranny and dictatorship, we inwardly accept the authority, the tyranny, of another to twist our minds and our way of life.

Krisnamurti, Freedom from the Known

It would have been great if all I had needed to do this past year was to sell all of my things and leave town. That would have been hard but EASY. This phase I'm in now is not easy for me because it deals with the twisted tyranny of my patterns and internal stumbling blocks which prompted the move in the first place. It was a "move" but not in the traditional sense of moving toward something clear, like a new house, a new town, a new job, etc. This process I am in is about "moving" stuck places within me. It is about finding a new home within my self. And oh my, is this hard for me! There isn't much these days which is based on living my life as a prisoner of the authority or tyranny of another. That doesn't make it easier.

When I was a slave to my drama and the drama of those in my life, I knew where my meaning was coming from. That didn't make it healthy or fun or rewarding on a deep level, but it was clear that that was the life I was in and that I would be dissatisfied with work, miserably unhappy with the unrequited love I was entangled in, and continue doing it until I didn't. OK, so I stopped doing it eventually. And now? I'm free, that's true. And wow, freedom is hard. Freedom is so hard that the Israelites heard the spies report and decided not to go into the promised land for another 38 years, wandering around the desert instead. They had already found it, but weren't able to enter psychologically! The blacks in America won most of the rights they fought for in the 1950's and 60's one hundred years earlier! Fear kept them from fully taking what was theirs all that time. Freedom is not easy. It is hard work.

Hot Turkey

(Click on entry title for information on keeping men's scrotal areas cool in the summer)

Going cold turkey isn't as delicious as it sounds.
-Homer Simpson

The Safety of Boundaries

suburban jewboy
with no life
experience
projectors of trash
couched in pretense
gautama grew up
like mohatma
priviledged in self-reflection
awareness that one can
step out of given skins
and sing
naked in the dark
knowing the choice to leave
songs
of naked suburbanites
penetrate the night

the sounds of love
enter the shadow of my errors
and omissions
holding my fragile aching bones
with saintly palms
outstretched penitence
stuffs the bread of life
down the throat of hunger
gagging reflex
for such foreign
sustenance

the safety of boundaries
i know
i am
i will
can it be fixed?
what is broken, anyway
but the shrouds and splinters
cut through my ego
every day every day every day

if integrity were a car
i'd drive it
to look good in my ride
and keep the window's tinted
from the light

do you think the zebra ponders spots all day?
does the rhino wish she had a trunk?
a man in search of self
not after spots or snouts
the answer to my own riddle
within my personal mystery
may not be with God
or non God
or the fixing of that
which is broken
how has my hope survived
all this
treated raw sewage
still stinks

i am grateful
for the boundaries
knowing they are there
that is something
if only
an illusion.

Where for art thou, o resolution?

resolve (v.)
c.1374, from L. resolvere "to loosen, undo, settle," from re-, intensive prefix, + solvere "loosen" (see solve). Same sense evolution as in resolution.

Collapsing space
Texture of heated air
friendly element
or secret assassin
shrouded geisha with
icy tips

a ballast of turmoil
smothered in social premises
was it a dragon's shadow
across the desert
or
was it just me
wanting to believe
metaphysical memories
can't heal the cuts
old afternoons crying
into the screen
kids playing
freeze tag
on the other side

i played sometimes
alone
in my peer group
"You're frozen,"
they would yell
and I was.

Turning the Cork Free

Libidinal eyes
Wandering around the world
Hate to eat alone

I visited another art museum today. It was one of those experiences in which I leave feeling inadequate and yet angry that art can be whatever someone says is art and others go along with it because they don't want to seem inadequate.

Hurting to know love
So many of us searching
Frogs know the pond well

I went to two films in the past 24 hours, as that is what I do when I need a break from myself. "Must Love Dogs" falls short of most romantic comedies and had some of the worst writing for that genre I have seen in a while. "Stealth" came closer to being a popcorn summer action movie, but still, generally sucked. I would pass on both. So far, this summer I would recommend Batman Begins, The Island, Wedding Crashers and Mr. and Mrs. Smith. All of these films were true to their genre or improved on the genre in some way.


Patterned suffering
Staring into the sun's eyes
Only bliss stares back

It is nice that our president makes no qualms about doing whatever he feels like. It must take some Texas sized balls to stick a man in the UN that doesn't believe in the purpose of the UN. Last night I dreamt that reporters were interviewing people from the city of Austin, Texas as the only bastion of anti-Bush voters in the Red states. It was as if Bush had just won his re-election.

I want to inspire
My shadows must bring more light
Songs from the abyss

It is nice to see a plane crash, burst into flames, and everyone survive for a change.

Turning the cork free
Intensity brings out fear
I will know release

A Noble Piece

"Fear is, I believe, a most effective tool in destroying the soul of an individual - and the soul of a people."
Anwar Sadat, former president of Egypt, assasinated by Moslem extremists for negotiating peace with its neighbor, Israel...


This seems like a good point to introduce my favorite poet to the Creative Process. Enter, Hafiz.

What Do White Birds Say

The earth has disappeared beneath my feet,
It fled from all my ecstasy,

Now like a singing air creature
I feel the Rose
Keep opening.

My heart turned to effulgent wings.
When has love not given freedom?
When has adoration not made one free?

A woman broken in tears and sweat
Stands in a field
Watching the sun and me
Trade jokes.

But never would Hafiz laugh
At your blessed labor
Of finding peace.

What do the dancing white birds say
Looking down upon burnt meadows?

All that you think is rain is not.
Behind the veil Hafiz and angels sometimes weep

Because most eyes are rarely glad
And your divine beauty is still too frightened
To unfurl its thousand swaying arms.

The earth has disappeared beneath my feet,
Illusion fled from all my ecstasy.

Now like a radiant sky creature
God keeps opening.

God keeps opening
Inside of Me.


From “The Gift” by Daniel Ladinsky.
Copyright © 1999 by Daniel Ladinsky.

(Click on "A Noble Piece" to purchase a most beautiful book of poetry)

Hijacked

So, the other night I took two cabs, to and from a local ale house. Both cabbies were Moslems. The first one was from Morocco and the second, from Algeria. Both of these men are self-proclaimed observant Moslems who have been in the U.S. for just a few years. The first man told me that he finds time throughout his day of fares to stop at a local mosque in order to pray with other Moslems (this mosque shares a space with a convenience store). Both men, independently, suggested that the extremists wreaking havoc on the West have essentially "hijacked" Islam and are not even practicing the ideals and tenets of their religion. The first man went as far as to say that the terrorists had done more to harm Moslems in the world than help. Yeah. He also cited a verse of the Koran which claims that saving a life is the greatest thing a human can do for God and that it is the embodiment of Allah. ALTERNATIVELY, taking a life is a horrid thing and not honorable as the jihadists tend to suggest. The second man, the Algerian, leaned toward the same ideas, however when I threw in the question of Israel, things turned. "That is the source of all the problems in the world," he claimed. "They want to enslave us all. It is in their religion. They believe they are better than all of us and want to have us as slaves." "You mean the Jews literally want to enslave you?" I asked. "Absolutely. They want to kill us too."

There is so much fear in us all! What will it take to soften the rigid notions of who "we" are and who "they" are? How will things change if even the softer ones among us still carry the shield of fear and old ideas? As I spoke with the Algerian man and he became so "clear" about the "mandate" of "the Jews" to enslave the world, I felt my own fear rise that if I took our dialogue to the next level, the disclosure of my being a Jew and holding zero interest in shackling my taxi driver, I was struck with the undercurrent fear that this man might not take me where I need to go in this strange city, and even worse thoughts. I am aware of my longing to establish dialogue, ease tensions and educate myself and others, as well I am aware of my inherent fears and internalized images of Moslem extremists. We're all a little extremist aren't we? I suppose.

It is a bit sad for me that I haven't yet found a way to connect with folks who think they know who I am and what I am after. As this blog attests, I am clearly in an ever unfolding process to discover who I am. There is a way to the heart of compassionate change. And yet, is this the cause I would die for? Is this a cause that will kill us if we don't? Again, thinking about the freedomists of our past from Jesus to Gandhi to King- none of them ended in a peaceful transition from this world to the next. Does it take martyrdom to make a difference? What does it take?

I found these words to add to the mix:
ON JIHAD AND HOLY WAR
From: Julius Evola (Revolt against the modern world, pages 118-120)

In the Islamic tradition a distinction is made between two holy wars, the "greater holy war" (el-jihadul-akbar) and the "lesser holy war" (el-jihadul-ashgar). This distinction originated from a saying (hadith) of the Prophet, who on the way back from a military expedition said: "You have returned from a lesser holy war to a great holy war." The greater holy war is of an inner and spiritual nature; the other is the material war waged externally against an enemy population with the particular intent of bringing "infidel" populations under the rule of "God's Law" (al-Islam). The relationship between the "greater" and "lesser holy war", however, mirrors the relationship between the soul and the body; in order to understand the heroic asceticism or "path of action", it is necessary to understand the situation in which the two paths merge, the "lesser holy war" becoming the means through which a "greater holy war" is carried out, and vice versa: the "little holy war", or the external one, becomes almost a ritual action that expresses and gives witness to the reality of the first. Originally, orthodox Islam conceived of a unitary form of asceticism: that which is connected to the jihad or "holy war".

The "greater holy war" is man's struggle against the enemies he carries within. More exactly, it is the struggle of man's higher principle against everything that is merely human in him, against his inferior natur and against chaotic impulses and all sorts of material attachments. This is expressly outlined in a text of Aryan warrior wisdom: "Know Him therefore who is above reason; and let his peace give thee peace. Be a warrior and kill desire, the powerful enemy of the soul." (Bhagavadgita 3.43)

The "enemy" who resists us and the "infidel" within ourselves must be subdued and put in chains. This enemy is the animalistic yearning and instinct, the disorganized multiplicity of impulses, the limitations imposed on us by a fictitious self, and thus also fear, wickedness, and uncertainty; this subduing of the enemy within is the only way to achieve inner liberation or the rebirth in a state of deeper inner unity and "peace" in the esoteric and triumphal sense of the word.

In the world of traditional warrior asceticism the "lesser holy war", namely, the external war, is indicated and even prescribed as the means to wage this "greater holy war"; thus in Islam the expressions "holy war" (jihad) and "Allah's way" are often used interchangeably. In this order of ideas action exercises the rigorous function and task of a sacrifical and purifying ritual. The external vicissitudes experienced during a military campaign cause the inner "enemy" to emerge and put up a fierce resistance and agood fight in the form of the animalistic instincts of self-preservation, fear, inertia, compassion, or other passions; those who engage in battles must overcome these feelings by the time they enter the battlefield if they wish to win and to defeat the outer enemy or "infidel".

gotham city

spilling out i walk
stranger in a strange body
peace will find me yet

Rebirthing

"I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go. My own wisdom and that of all about me seemed insufficient for that day." Lincoln Observed: The Civil War Dispatches of Noah Brooks edited by Michael Burlingame (Johns Hopkins University Press, Baltimore, 1998), p. 210.

In the events and movements of my recent life, it becomes ever more clear to me that there is no place I could be, nor is there a thing I should be doing, other than where and what I am doing right now. The moments of doubt which creep in and question the point of my process as well as the point of life in general, they are fleeting and are often superceded by an ever more prescient knowledge that this process is one of Divine origin. While my wrestling match with God is less documented than Jacob's, it is no less as intense a struggle. The push and pull of my faith in the sweet hum beneath the surface of life is present in every moment, even those in which I choose to ignore or deny it.

I can not, nor will I, suggest that my journey is simply a narcissistic endeavor of a lost soul. For, as much as I cry out for guidance, there is a consciousness that indeed guides me, guides me through the rapids of my own turbulent waters. I will prevail because there is no other way.

On the road again

Today's horoscope:
Jeffrey,
Even with your desire to look back into your own past as you mull over your current state of affairs, today is not as heavy as the last few days. An overall feeling of optimism is now returning. Consciously let it spill out into your creative and romantic life. Make the most of it, but don’t push things too far or you will regret it later on.

It's a scorcher

i am so damn hot
i am so hot i could weep
are you hot as well?

Transit

It is difficult to live in this world and not be affected by the events which are occurring on a daily basis lately. What is it about Terrorism that is so disturbing? For sure, the feeling of helplessness that many of us feel in the sense that "someone out there" may want to do us harm is unsettling... and yet there is a whole range of emotions and experiences which seem to bubble beneath the surface of the waters of the collective these days.
I find that I experience anger, fear, fantasies about revenge, contempt for a whole array of players in this drama, pride, confusion, doubt, passion, alienation, unity, and on and on.

A professor I studied with earlier this summer from the University of Florence, Italy, named Daniele Cardelli, specializes in the consciousness of politics. An essential component of his theory is that each nation in the world experiences its own mythology and universal archetypes which saturate and direct the movements of that nation in the world. He also suggests that individuals from particular countries operate at some level within an unconscious matrix of the story and defining strengths and weaknesses of their home nation. For example, Americans have a tendency to stick out like a sore thumb in other countries just like our nation's policies, typically... Our operating archetypes are strong in the world right now, a bit of self-righteousness as well as a bit of, "what?!? what did we do?" However, there are truly strengths and weaknesses to every archetype and surely, for every people and culture. While the US is clearly the target of a huge amount of rage and resentment from around the world right now, we are not, all bad or all good.

In fact, on a simple level, The US and the "terrorists" are playing out a universal power play that is as old as time. A powerful force believes it knows what is right for others and because it is really powerful, it gets away with a lot of control. Then, however, those on the bottom rise up to show that they are not powerless or without capability to steer their own course effectively. They don't typically do this in a nice way, however...

Islam, in my mind, is an institutional religion in the way that Judaism or Christianity is. It is, similarly, grounded in foundational holy books which are so thick and convoluded that it is possible for adherents in any such faith to cut and splice any permutation of truths and justifications from the Book. There are more examples of this fact through time than is worth citing examples. Essentially, anyone can justify any behavior with anything they want.

King David caught a glimpse of Bathsheva walking around town and wanted her bad. When he found out she was married, he didn't care. He had her husband, who was a loyal soldier in his army, assigned to the front of a losing battle where he was slain. David then swoops in to claim his prize. Nice. People typically do what they want and find the justification later.
The fact that these people out there are blowing up trains and buses and killing innocent people is no different from our war in Iraq. It just makes a lot of us feel better to justify our side of things as to the "why." They have their belief and we have our belief and there are a billion beliefs in between. Does it matter who is right?

The feeling of helplessness I feel is more about the way things are these days. I feel detached from how things happen in the world. I feel powerless around the impersonal nature of how energies seem to move in the world. While the news and pictures of terrible things come into my home on my TV, on my laptop . . . there is a relative inability to respond effectively on a personal level. What do I do about the bombings in London?

At what level is the idea that this is all a Tragedy and these are Tragic events in the archetypal sense, not enough? In a Tragedy, the tragic figures are at the whim of the Gods and simply have to "go with it." Is that the answer? Do we simply sit in our homes as a handful of players in the world make the decisions and move the chess pieces for us? We just hope that individually, we will come out safe and sound? When the Tsunami hit Asia last year, it broke my heart to watch those events on TV and I sat at home and wondered what it would be like to go there and help out. I found decent reasons not to go as I was in the middle of my own unfolding events, however the pull was there to do something.

The generation prior to mine seemed to believe they could change Tragic events and actually did. Martin Luther King, Robert Kennedy, Malcolm X, and millions of people, ordinary people, essentially brought the dream world of the Tragic Trance into reality, like deconstructing the x's and o's of a digital photo and reconfiguring it to new specifications... The Tragedy of Racism in the US was altered by regular people who rose up from the ordinary and entered the realm of the Players. Vietnam was affected by regular people who believed that burning their draft card would matter. At what point does the ordinary person choose to break into the dream, lucidly, and alter its story?

I feel stuck around this issue these days. I have known myself to be in Tragic dramas where it truly has felt as if I could not remove myself from the drama of the Tragedy and that all I could do was wait it out and acknowledge that I was in it. It is unsettling to have the awareness of the Tragedy and know that there is little that my will can do to change it. And yet, the Tragic figure does not typically lay down and wait it out, he or she tends to continue to operate within the dramatic events as they unfold, serving as a player in the play.

Perhaps, all we can do is go through the Tragedy as it develops and focus on the awareness of being in a Tragedy? Not very satisfying to me.