turns and returns, and turns

These past few days have been a bit harder.  It's getting really cold here, and that brings me lots of places.. mostly inwards, to places that feel suffocating.  There's that bundle of spiraling energy in there, with seemingly nowhere to go.  I feeling a bit lost.
Falling leaves fly about, I'm walking in foreign land, in mid-air between homes.. searching.
What am I doing with my life?  I must have something to give, to contribute!  I am physically separated from the souls that know me already, and I find that difficult.  Then I think: Is it essentially what this is about?  ("Connection"?)  But what exactly is that?  And would it be otherwise in any other place or is it just fundamentally human and intrinsically un-fullfillable?  I wonder.
I can see myself desperately trying to grasp unto some idea of identity and purpose.  I bow to Saturn and remind myself that time has some answers in store... if I can keep listening.  If I am patient.

I eat a lot.  Food produces the illusion of comfort, but only as long as I'm in-gesting it.  After the last bite, I feel empty and restless gain.  I can see how cliche I am; stuffing myself with bread compulsively trying to fill the void; unconsciously hoping I could consume the world around me,  because it seems like the only way to have a relationship with it.
For my defense, there is a lot of baked goods and exotic dishes to try out.  For my defense, it is really cold outside.

Mural in Kreuzberg

I can't help but throw myself into the future.  How will I survive the dark January winter of Quebec, when I go back?  How will I make money while keeping myself free, so that I could go retrieve the boxes I have stored in San Francisco.  How will I visit San Francisco for any short period of time without feeling torn apart to pieces?  I am left with the conclusion that this unsettled, transitory status is going to last for a while...

So I try to breathe.  I give acknowledgment to that spiral of energy... I move and dance.  It's my way of keeping the channel open, lest I become severely depressed.  A lion in a cage...

I feel ready to leave Berlin.  It's as if I've accepted that I am not settling here (And why did I even consider that in the first place?)  I cannot manage to try to make friends and connect with people.
HE has a show on November 6th however, so I must stick around until then.  In the meantime, I am planning a few escapades.

On the 31st, I'm going to visit an anarchist collective outside the city.  I met a "expat" woman a few weeks ago, and she invited me to visit her community and the land they have bought.  They are refurbishing a big house, working along utopian lines, and thus encountering all the challenges that it involves.  I hope to have good conversations with these people.  I hope to find out where they come from, biographically as well as philosophically.  I hope to learn from them, perhaps be inspired.  For I am still considering myself somewhat of an anarchist.

There a several "shops" and spaces
that are openly "anarchist"

Fundamentally, I'm not sure it is possible.  We humans very much need leaders and organizers.  We like having someone of some group telling us what to do, where to go, and especially in times of crisis and instability.
There is so much of that going on in the world at the moment!  And how I am also such a microcosm of that principle!

Yet there is no God but the One of which we are the parts.  There is no God outside of ourselves to point the Way.  "The Way that can be named is not the Way."  The Way... is wu wei... it is a process that unfolds of it's own, in non-doing.











I am doing a lot of non-doing.  It's hard.

-------

Making a video of myself dancing on the rooftop... what a narcissistic endeavor!  Yet, I done it.  It was a vision I had when I went up there the very first time: a dance video!  And I hadn't come around to it yet; I hadn't bring someone up there to play with me.  I guess I like to express myself in private.. and then "publish" it.  That must be why I write all day, instead of juggling on the sidewalk.  Or does it matter?  After all, I also come from a spirit of offering...
I'm not perfectly sure I know what this means.  
But I want to "forgive" (strong word, yet) myself and allow this.  I'm not sure why.  Don't they talk about that new dimension, in which doing what you love and following your bliss actually connects with the gift you might have for others?
I tend to think that this obsession with introspection is something that can benefit the rest of the world.  And then I think about those who give of their time and sweat, in such altruistic ways; for example, by going to the most destitute places and working there.  "Humanitarian work", we call it.
Humanitarian.
Am I not able to do that?  Wouldn't I be able to go to Northern Uganda, like you Neilito?  I'm not sure.  I'm not sure I can do without money and without food in my belly.  I'd rather dance on my rooftop and make a montage with it!

Everyday, I think about my privileges.

Privilege:
1. a. A special advantage, immunity, permission, right, or benefit granted to or enjoyed by an individual, class, or caste.
  b.Such an advantage, immunity, or right held as a prerogative of status or rank, and exercised to the exclusion or detriment of others."

Kreuzberg!

I was born with privilege, indeed.  I was born in Quebec city; there where long winters have shaped us to create bonds.  I was born in a family that could have stability.  I was born in "the Western world", in a bureaucratic society of sorts, in a "democracy" of sorts.  Is that karma?
And I ask myself: why am I so discontent with, and distrustful of... government?
Why am I refusing to take part in the game?
Why do I live with this sense of urgency, of calamity.  Why do I continually have the images of people suffering, in the back of my head?  (That's why I don't watch tv.  No need.)  Why can't I just be satisfied with the world and take my place in it already?

Perhaps I am meant to become a monk.  Not a nun though, a monk.