Amor Fati

Today, I crossed the north american continent.  I flew in a bird made of aluminum and propelled by hydrogen fuel, off the ground to contemplate it from above...
I think of geography a lot.
I think of land division.  of history.
How we've shaped the earth the best we can..
I think of the First Nations. and of inexorable complexities.
I read Simone Weil while I was home.  ''L'Enracinement'' it was called.  I also read the novel of a second generation Japanese-American farmer in the valley of San Joaquim.
I think of having two homes.  Of the privilege it represents.  And I am grateful.  And I think, incessantly, about how to root myself down in reality.. how to work for the greater good of society, of life.. Thanks to Simone Weil also, I've finally managed to be able to name what it is; I want my work to be sacred.  I want to dedicate every breath and every drop of sweat to my God through it.. I want my relationship to time to change.  I want to live in the present, in my body, and with the awareness of a divine totality.  Truth is beauty.
And justice.?

Ma patrie?

Qui c'est, ma patrie?  Québec, tu me manques.  Oui, j'adore cette terre qui m'a adoptée ici, en Californie.  J'y suis présentement et pourtant ce soir je songe que j'aurai manqué tant d'années en ta présence.  Ce soir j'aurais envie de pouvoir apprendre à te connaître, à connaître ta culture, à pouvoir me gaver des sons que compose ta langue.  Québec, ne le prend pas mal.  Je pense à toi.  J'essaie de m'imaginer ce à quoi ma vie  avec toi pourrait être...

Je sais que tu es riche et belle.  Je vois ta puissance et ta ferveur.  Je vois ta souffrance aussi, ton prédicament... Je pense à toi.  Je me souviens.

"better" clown

I feel/think I'm a much better clown when I'm outside of school.
'Cause in school it "performance" mode, again.  And oh! How the word is strangely loaded!  I cannot seem to wrap my mind around the concept that the same word is used to talk about:

2. The way in which someone or something functions.

and

3. A presentation, especially a theatrical one, before an audience.

and

4. Something performed; an accomplishment.

  

And what does "1.The act of performing or the state of being performed." mean anyway?


It's the form we take.  It's how we take form.  It's how we conform with the form, but it's also how we "perfore" this same form and help it keep in shape.  Let us stay informed of this.  It's a process.
I'm not sure if it's school that's all about performance, or if it's me.  I mean...
Aren't we all?  Aren't you?
In the meantime, I "pass" as sane still.  Good job.  Thumb up.

Insights... out of sight... Insight... out of sight. (sigh)


People ask why I'm in clown school.  It's because I take myself too seriously, and I'm trying to "heal".  I'm serious.

the do-be-do-be blues

After school today, I put my wolf hat on, and headed for my apartment.  There is something about riding bike in the freezing air of the Pandhandle.  I'm not sure if I like it or not.  The trees are wonderful though.

There is power in knowledge.
And I know many things.
For instance I know that venus is retrograde and that I am making the encounter of this guy, this man, who - i must admit it to myself - reminds me of Mikael.  O! Mikael!  Forever part of my psychic space!
I know, that I am bound to project some "unresolved feelings" about Mikael onto you.
I know that I feel I might be asked to deal with questions of trust.
You told me, "I have to admit to myself -it's ironic, and I don't like it- but deep inside I don't trust women..."  We tried to figure out what that meant.
It's a day later now, and I realized that I am also dealing with that.  I do not trust men.  It's sad and it runs deep.  I don't even know where it comes from for I do not remember experiencing any big trauma inflicted on me by a man.
Besides, I want nothing more (non-exclusively, of course) in this life than to inspire trust.  And aren't you implicitly saying the same thing?  You said you have been given so much that you know you have a lot to give.  I think I know exactly what you mean.
I have a story in my head, about a boy I once met.  It's a tale of attraction; and it's a tragedy.  To have been in love with a boy, and to never really knowif I can trust what I thought was reciprocity.  To be left with no answer; for he sits debilitated in a wheelchair today.  And he has a piece of my heart now.
In the shower, just now, I began crying.  I was opening up - because you are triggering that in me - and in allowing myself to feel whatever came up, I saw how much more I have to feel about the story of Mikael.
I don't know what it all means.
But I know it makes sense.
Somehow.  It is
the Tao.

So.. Ah!Ah! You have no power sur moi!
May I remain centered in my [true] self
May I follow and speak my truth.
May I act out of love
[and respect for myself]
and not out of fear
May I be patient
May I remain playful.
Inuitive.
May I enjoy
this process.
Alive.

Preface of a Polypassionate

Winter has begun to draw her covers.  I've seen myself going inside, hopefully this time with greater consciousness...
(My greatest love, ma langue, tu me manques tant!  Te souviens-tu ces longues soirées passées toutes les deux à la lueur de lumières tamisées?  Tu te dénudais parfois, comme si c'était seulement pour moi.  Je désirais déjà tant te posséder.. et tu seras toujours si furtive.  Toi qui habite l'espace entre sauvage et civilisé...)

It's the tension between our words and our thoughts.  It's the seasons ma(r)king, the Cycle of our growth.

I am that I am
related, chained
to all ten thousand things
The cosmos is in pain
but the cosmos breathes
Love prevails
it is all-live
and love needs death

Preface to a revolution in e-motion.  We are learning to love differently.  We are starting at own our projections.  We are discovering, amongst the broken pieces at our bleeding feet, that love is not what we had expected.  We are finding ourselves, divine and whole...

I'll be trying to take part in this cosmic process.  I think that this is what this blog wants to be.  Another idiosyncratic exploration, a stroll in this hall of invisible mirrors, my thoughts... coagulating.
Some thoughts are derivates of my feelings.  Often they feel like one and the same.  But other thoughts just have this autonomous quality to them, this... integrity.  I can't let go of the mystic Plato; the very fact that I can (re)cognize these concepts suggests they exist before me.  They are perhaps part of a greater whole in which all phenomena actually make sense: the grand scheme of things.
So I'll be sharing thoughts.  Organized and chaotic.  I'm not quite clear on what my themes are but I know they exist.  You tell me.