Third trimester: Arrived in India (Part 1)

Lord Ganesha at the Gate

I've been in India for about three weeks now. It took time to adjust. Now I'm going to try and write... Let's see what happens!

I don't know exactly why this one is in English, but I don't need to know. This much I'm figuring out. This is actually what this trip has taught me. I realize it's what I've wanted to learn. Not knowing is okay.

Case in point.  Last night I went to my first ''Butoh jam'' at the Subbody School - there where I've been taking daily classes for the past 3 weeks. I didn't know what a Butoh jam was, but I assumed it was similar to what we do everyday: dancing the question mark. 
Got there first.  Hmm.  Laid down on the wooden floor, since I've come to discover that this - a wooden floor - might be my favorite place to be. There, I observed my breath, my limbs resting on the ground, my desire to move. And as I've been doing daily for the past 3 weeks, I listened to the fine line between will and impulse. What are my patterns of movement? How can I open up a new relationship with my body? Moving not from the limbs but from the spine, sacrum or cervical bone, like an ocean wave or a breath, listening to the necessary transformation created by any movement or impulse, I slowly began to dance...

More people started to show up and sat around the studio. New faces - expats or tourists from up the hill I suppose. I had made my way from the periphery to the center of the room, gently stretching and moving to the watery qualia - defined by my teacher, Rhizome Lee, as ''anything Life feels'' - I got from the music. After a while, a classmate actually invited everyone to dance, because there were only few of us on the floor. Some guy said, ''It's just not really what I expected from the invitation I got.'' I was next to him so I answered: 
''It's my first time too. I don't actually know what I'm doing.'' 
''But you look like you're a professional'', he said. 
Ego flattered, I confess, though most naturally I answered:
''A professional not-knower of what I'm doing, maybe!'' And that was it. I had put words to what's been going on.

Tibetan prayer flags in Upper Bhagsu. Helps us see the wind.

Because everyday my monkey-mind leads me to the future with its clichés: What will you do after this is all over? How will you make a living? How can you continue healing yourself and shaping a life with enough freedom to attend to your life force? How will it all be received back home? Where is home? And on and on...

These thoughts are natural and are probably never going to stop popping up. Of course life needs a bit of planning and intention. But this need for security cannot become so constricting that I need to ingest anxiety meds everyday. The future is undetermined. That's the beauty of it. 

Friendly reminder

Coming to India has put me through an interesting emotional curve.

 As one would expect, the arrival in Delhi - in the middle of the night - was unsettling. But I had preemptively organized everything: I had a private taxi-driver pick me up at the airport. He would prove his identity with a special password, and bring me straight to my hostel. Well, I shouldn't say ''straight'', because nobody drives straight in India!

Arrived in Paharganj neighborhood, I found out my hostel hid in some smelly alley off the main bazar. Lots of stray dogs. My first sacred cow. Everything was dusty, smelly, trashy.

Main bazar, Paharganj, Delhi

Next morning, jet-lagged, I went out for a stroll in the bazar to start soaking in the ambiance. Too much for the eyes and brain to take in. A lot for the ears. Watch out where you step. No, I don't want to buy this, thank you. The men husteling and bustling; women keeping to themselves. I found that I could only go out for short amounts of time before returning for short breaks in my room to rest.

3 days to spend in Delhi. I rode in tuk-tuks, took the metro, visited the Lotus Temple, and bought a few small things. I got totally ripped off by a nicely-knit, multiple-person scheme that took me from the bazar to some fake (?) governmental tourist office to a shop where they charged me triple the price of a salwar kameez - indian long shirt with pants and scarf. Oh well! A relatively painless initiatory experience after all.

I then took the train heading to Pathankot, which is about 2-3 hours from Dharamsala. Nervous about morning traffic and finding my way around Old Delhi's Station, I arrived there 2 hours early. Had some chaï, sat outside with my book in front of the departure board. 20 minutes before my departure time, I went inside the station and stood in front of the board there. But something was strange : my train was not showing. When I asked a girl about it she said I could go ask for information outside. Adrenalin suddenly rising up, I grabbed by backpack and went back outside. A swarm of men were trying to talk to the inquiry person. Then luckily I noticed a white board with hand-writing on it : train numbers... platform... my train! Platform 20! Run!

Just like in the movies I ran and up the stairs I saw my train starting to move forward. 
Run! Run! Grabbed the handle of the last wagon and climbed on it in extremis. Thank Shiva!  Though it wasn't the wagon I had reserved online, at least I had made it.

I gathered myself and looked around: people were sitting on the floor, a sikh man with a boy, a shoeless hindu monk, some kids with their mom in the corner. I felt I was taking up a lot of space with my big bags and my white skin. When I walked to the door to go through to the next wagon, I found it only led to the ... how do you call those sqatty latrine-type holes in the floor? Stopped breathing for a split-second before I chose to accept and enjoy. So I put my rucksack down and sat on it, my back against the thin wall of that shitty stall, and did like those men were doing: enjoy the wind on my face as I stared out at the landscape passing before our eyes through the open door. 

We arrived in Pathankot an hour and 30 minutes late. I was starting to feel queezy inside and hoped there would be cabs available to drive me to Dharamsala after dark.

I might have paid more than needed, but my driver, Munna, turned out to be very sweet. My stomach, on the other hand, was not giving such a pleasing sensation. I was getting increasingly uncomfortable and I was very tired. We were but a few curvy kilometers away when I urgently asked Munna to pull over : hello food poisoning. I shall spare you the details of what happened next. Let's just say that for the next few days, I always knew where I could find the bathroom.

I thereby had my first experience of turista, or as it is called in these parts of the world: delhi belly. With unpredictable bowels for only company, abandoned by my usually faithful appetite, I found my arrival in this new environment difficult. I thank my girlfriend who helped me through it diligently and patiently, connecting to video chat with me several times a day. Even though I knew it would pass, I needed someone I could cry in front of.

And the people I spoke to were nice too. They had empathy and advice for me: eat some papaya seeds, bananas, rice... and if I was still sick after 6-7 days, I should probably go get tested to put a name on this intestinal invader and get the right antibiotic. So I did that... and abracadabra! 
What I've learned in this : my friends, if it ever happens to you, getting tested is so worth it! 

This again is becoming a looooong blog post.  So why don't I leave it at this and let you go to the next post for another piece of adventure? 

For Part2, click here!

Puisque tout est politique.

Un texte pouvant peut-être sembler un peu décousu.
C'est que le fil est transparent.
N'hésitez pas à commenter!

Une amie me racontait: ''Pour moi tout est politique.  Des fois... ça devient un peu fatiguant.''

Je me dis, en effet:
J'aimerais, par exemple, savoir comment prendre le temps
de prendre soins de jeunes plantes

Parce que 1) prendre le temps est un geste radical, à contre-courant du mode compétitif effréné dans lequel se vautre notre culture économique; et parce que  2) prendre soins est un geste radical et trop peu valorisé: ça ne fait pas partie du PIB!
S'appliquer, s'engager, s'efforcer à faire émerger la vie, à fournir la juste dose de tout ce qu'il faut pour que prennent racines: c'est radical. Imaginer une production alimentaire significative à même nos milieux urbain, faire respirer la cité-bitume, semer sur les toits de nos appartements, dans les craques des trottoirs, dans nos bacs à double-fond et nos jardins grimpants...
Ça requiert tout un engagement.

Cultiver.

Naturer.

Arrêtons de prétendre que nous ne comprenons pas ce qui nous arrive. Certes, encore aujourd'hui, tous les angles ne sont pas visibles.  Mais ne pourraient-on pas rendre compte de ce qu'on a appris et de ce qu'on continue d'apprendre? Je continue de croire qu'il nous faut créer des espaces dans lesquels on se permettrait d'explorer, c'est-à-dire de ressentir, les sentiments qui se rattachent à l'Histoire.

Reconnaître notre ignorance et notre vulnérabilité en tant qu'espèce. Intégrer ce que nous avons appris depuis Nietzsche, Freud, Fromm, etc. Célébrer le chemin parcouru. Considérer les motivations psychologiques derrière la tendance réactionnaire et la puissance grégaire. Expliciter le phénomène et se donner les outils pour ne plus commettre de telles violences.  Car c'est nous-même qu'on continue de mutiler.



Des outils comme le discours critique, ou comme la compassion! Nous sommes en train d'apprendre à nous émanciper.  Nous y oeuvrons maladroitement depuis 2500 ans (avénement de la philosophie occidentale. Le processus émancipatoire tient sans doute de bien plus loin...) L'apprentissage est là, étape par étape.

Ce qui me fait penser... aux Lumières!


Par exemple, pourquoi ne pas outrepasser la philosophie des Lumières? Questionner le libéralisme, la science moderne, le capitalisme industriel... l'État!  La philosophie des Lumières, ce n'était pas l'aboutissement de l'histoire, la ligne d'arrivée!  Pourquoi ais-je l'impression que ''la société en générale'' en est demeurée avec les idôles de ce temps? ''Liberté, raison, ... égalité''.  Le culte de l'individu et de sa supposée raison!  Démocratie?  ''Droit fondamental''?  Pourrait-on seulement continuer de porter une pensée critique sur ces Idées ?

Je ne suis pas la première à dire vouloir rappeler le lien qu'il existe entre l'État moderne et nos pires cauchemars: holocauste, hiroshima, génocide au Rwanda, corruption, violence policière, etc.  La justice et la liberté n'existent qu'en Idée. C'est autre chose qu'on choisit, il faut arrêter de se leurrer.  J'appellerais ça le Sentiment de Sécurité?

On le voit bien qu'il faut questionner!  On le sent, et c'est pour ça qu'on s'entre-mêle dans des tirades émotives et des rassemblements de peuple - tant de phénomènes que nous le savons voués à nous faire perdre la raison.

Rassemblons-nous alors!  Je sais que plusieurs philosophes contemporains sont derrière moi, entre autre parce pour ce qu'ils ont influencé ma vision du monde : Le sauvage, le non-ordre, le courant libre et créatif.. tout ça se doit d'avoir une place dans nos vies!
C'est dommage que la société québécoise du spectacle ait co-opté tout ça.



Le carnaval existait bien longtemps avant le cirque du soleil, le festival de Jazz de Montréal. Le carnaval existait avant Jésus-Christ, avant les Romains, avant Gilgamesh! Peut-être parce que l'être humain a bel et bien besoin de ces rites (de purification?), de cette intoxications, de cet ex-stasie (hors d'état).  C'est nécessaire, pour l'équilibre des choses.

Il y a une charge, une énergie, qui coure et constitue le flot des choses.  On ne perçoit que les presq'équilibres; on n'en sent que la tension, que la réverbération d'un mouvement minuscule qui devient séisme dès qu'on arrête de se tenir occupé.

Pourquoi, à quoi résister?
Quand on s'arrête de bouger, le cosmos lui tourne encore.
Résister au changement? Résister au status quo?
Les deux forment un tout.
(Y aurait-il un tierce élément à considérer?)

Bref.

Notre sensibilité est palpable.

Alors pourquoi nier?  Pourquoi tout enfouir?  Nos déchets et nos échecs, notre incapacité à gérer l'affaire. Les dépotoirs comme l'ombre de nos Lumières. Du matériel inconfortable à gérer, dont on préfère rester inconscient. Un barrage mental - qui a servi sa fonction - prêt à exploser.

''Je ne pense pas que je sois si politisée que ça''.
Mon amie était surprise.
 - ''Toi? Une fille qui étudie et qui va enseigner la science politique... et qui n'est pas politique!...Ah!''
On a bien rit.

Les cégeps existent depuis 46 ans.
Avant, la grande majorité des francophones du Québec
ne poursuivaient pas d'études au-delà du secondaire. Qu'est-ce qu'on a appris ?

Bien sûr que je suis politique.  Comme toi, je vois un système et je suis curieuse de le comprendre. C'est seulement qu'il y a quelques années j'ai aussi compris que mon intellect et mes efforts de logique servent d'abord à apaiser un feeling.  Je ne suis pas la seule.  Il faut en parler.

Tout est politique.

Alors je choisis de vivre en communauté et de chercher à définir le sens du terme, de créer des espaces de croissance et d'émancipation, d'enrichissement et de résilience.

Qu'il est sublime de voir un plant de haricots spiralé son chemin vers la lumière!

La fin d'un Monde

C'est la veille de la fin du monde et je me sens bien.  J'habite dans un coeur battant.
Un nouveau monde commence demain.  À travers les tueries, la souffrance, les guerres, l'esclavage... en chute libre au creux d'un futur qu'on dit ne pas pouvoir connaître d'avance.
Sauf que le problème, c'est que le futur n'existe pas.  Et en même temps, il existe aussi: c'est nous qui le créons.  Le future, le telos, c'est une projection de l'esprit humain.

C'est la veille de la fin d'une histoire.  La veille du solstice de 2012.  Le temps et l'espace s'apprêtent à prendre une nouvelle dimension.

Mon présent est vraiment merveilleux, because I come home to an open heart: a open home.   Parce que c'est pratiquement ''un open house'' ici, for our friends, visitors, family, friends of friends, etc.  We are seven and satellites, a kind of nucleus for nomads particles to find a home, for an instant.
We leave or heart open, so we learn from each other.
Three languages, four including music.  Cooking.  Building.  Sharing.  Growing seeds and sprouts and picking up the excesses from the capitalists' dumpsters.  Trying to live radically: trying to live from our roots.  Though we all come from elsewhere, from another part of the world.

Moi, fille d'ancêtres quelconques, de colons Français immigrant dans un nouveau Pays.  Et je me demande: Qu'elle était leur relation avec ceux qui habitaient sur ces terres?
Ils sont venu s'y établir, les Européens; ils sont chercher des richesses, développer des marchés, puis coloniser, cultiver, et évangéliser... Ils sont venus raconter leurs histoires d'un futur meilleur...

Meilleur que quoi?  Meilleur pour qui?

Eux qui perdirent leurs mythologies d'éternel retour des choses se mirent éventuellement à adopter de nouveaux mythes... des mythes de: progrès.  Une ouverture est créée.  C'est demain qu'il faut viser.  Demain, il y aura plus, plus de grain, plus de surplus, plus de sécurité ...

Nous avons si peur de la disette, de la pénurie.
Nous avons appris à focaliser un supposé état de manque.
Ceux qui détiennent les moyens d'exploitation, de transformation, et de distribution de nos ressources se rient bien de nous voir perdre nos moyens, de travailler comme des imbéciles et de courir contre la montre pendant qu'eux amassent les richesses en évitant de mettre l'épaule à la Roue (de la Vie)...
(Nous produisons beaucoup désormais.  Il y en aurait surement pour tout le monde.)

Au fond,
La Vie et la Mort son comme le pouls d'un temps infiniment profond.  Nos petits ''je'' ne font que passer dans la grande parade de l'Histoire, et encore plus dans celle du Temps...

Considérons...

- 408 million years ago, the first amphibians ''appear'' on Earth - planet Earth, that is; where we live today - the first insects, and the first spiders from the Silurian period and bring about what we apparently label the ''Devonian period", which is of course part of the Canbraic Era.

Then, 

All through this time the earth was changing. 
In the Triassic period, all the continents were joined together in one huge landmass. Climate was hot and dry but with rain seasons. The first tree ferns and coniferous trees were starting to appear. 

In the Jurassic period the climate changed as the huge continent was breaking up. There were now forests of cycads, conifers and gingko, all plants that still exist today. 

In the Cretaceous period (that's: 144 million years ago), the continents had separated and each had its own flora and fauna. However, Australia and Antarctica were still joined together. There were now flowering plants such as magnolias and waterlilies.

The first cell with a nucleus?  2.100.000.000 years ago.
Homo Erectus: 2, 500, 000 years ago.  

And then, barely two million years later, two MILLION years, homo sapiens emerges and begins to sapiens itself: a new form of self-consciousness develops...

Neolithic humans developed agriculture 8,000 years ago.

Two millennia ago, a Son of Man claimed himself Son of God.  King of a non-Earthly Kingdom, where there would be no wars, no slavery, no injustice.  Jesus was the awaited savior a of people without land, the one who would die and live again to purge the world of its darkness.  The Sun of God, the one who would live and die to bring us Light, just like old god Dionysos. 

Before that, at about 2,500 years ago, it was the son of an aristocratic man from the metropolis of Athens, a man named Plato,who laid the foundation of Western Philosophy and Ethics.  He told us of the man Socrates, who taught citizens how and why to think for themselves...

In this geological perspective, what is 2013?

What is December 21, 2012?
The astronomical calculations of the indigenous people of Mesoamerica.  A long cycle is ending: one Baktun of some 394.26 years, a cycle which is itself but a fraction of a bigger cycle that is also ending...
I heard about special cosmic phenomena that would apparently be taking place, like:

The supposed prediction of an astronomical conjunction of the black hole at the center of the Milky Way galaxy with the winter solstice Sun on December 21, 2012, referred to by Jenkins in Maya Cosmogenesis 2012: The True Meaning of the Maya Calendar End-Date (1998)

Is there really a black hole at the center of the Milky Way !!?

The Milky Way?  Can we really see that far outside of ourselves !?  Historically as well as cosmically, why deny it: we are so small.  Are we thus also insignificant?
Peut-on vraiment voir aussi loin à extérieur de nous-même?  Historiquement et astronomiquement parlant, pourquoi le nier: nous sommes tellement petits.  Mais alors, sommes nous pour autant insignifiants?

Voilà ce que j'en comprends.
Demain, je prendrai le temps d'écouter la souffrance de mes contemporains.  Je sais que je vais aussi ressentir la souffrance de notre Terre Mère, les guerres de nos pères, les peurs de nos frères et soeurs.  Je ressentirai l'Histoire, la pre-Histoire, le Temps Profond.  Je m'émerveillerai aussi certainement avec une dose d'ambivalence et une fascination intarissable, de voir nos constructions, notre architectures, nos organisations, si imparfaites.  Je m'émerveillerai d'être sapiens sapiens, de pouvoir être témoin de tout ça: le temps, l'espace.  Je serai reconnaissante, de pouvoir ressentir un flocon de neige sur ma peau, de pouvoir concevoir et admirer son unicité, son éphémérité...

À une semaine des élections

La balle est dans les airs!
(manif du 22 juillet)

Je me sens un peu prise entre deux langues, but what's new?

Nous sommes à quelques jours des élections.
Selon les médias- ceux qui ont le jeu des ficelles dans ce théâtre de marionnettes qu'est la scène d'information populaire- ce sera le Parti Québécois qui prendrait le pouvoir...

Je ne comprends pas très bien.

Ici dans ma bulle, sur le plateau Mont-Royal, il est plus qu'évident que le peuple a soif d'une politique tellement plus intègre, et radicale.  On vote Québec Solidaire parce que c'est le parti qui valide nos besoins et nos demandes:

On ne peut plus se permettre de nier la crise écologique et de persister dans la voie obsolète et pernicieuse d'une industrialisation gavé au pétrole et autres ressources non-renouvelables.  On à mal au coeur de savoir que nos terres agricoles se font de plus en plus ''dézoner'' dans l'étalement de la banlieue.  On veut parler du futur, prendre les moyens de bâtir les réseaux et les structures qui pourront faciliter l'évolution de la nation.

On a la rage, c'est vrai.  On n'en peu plus de l'hypocrisie, de la manipulation, et de la peur.  On s'indigne devant l'opacité des milieux financiers et administratifs.  On s'efforce de dénoncer la corruption et le manque flagrant d'éthique des instances au pouvoir.



Je n'aime pas porter accusations ni m'entendre qualifier d'autres humains de malveillants.  Mais il ne faut pas fermer les yeux non plus: le système néolibéral est un véritable merdier.  C'est une fausse à mensonges, un manège de violences cachées...

 C'est difficile de vivre en sachant et en comprenant l'étendu de la violence commise par l'élite.  Je ne veux pas paraître révoltée comme une adolescente, mais je le suis.
J'apprends à célébrer la lumière, la créativité, et l'interconnectivité.  J'aspire à partager des moments de joie et de communion avec de plus en plus de citoyens, de la campagne à la métropole.  Je crois à l'autonomisation (empowerment) par l'art et l'éducation populaire.  Je prends refuge avec le Buddha, le Dharma, et la Sangha.  Je sais qu'il n'y a rien que le présent; l'existence est une série de carrefours où se pose, avec chaque respiration, une nouvelle question.  Nous avons toujours le choix.

Alors pourquoi choisir le PQ?
Parce qu'on ne veut plus des Libéraux et qu'on croit que le vote stratégique est la seule solution?
Parce qu'on a peur de ''perdre notre vote'' si on suit vraiment notre conscience-coeur?
Parce qu'on entretient de vieilles rancunes, parce qu'on a peur de regarder de l'avant et de rêver à un avenir meilleur?
Parce qu'on a peur de l'espoir inhérent en chacun de nous?
Qu'est-ce qu'ils ont a offrir, le PQ?  (Péquistes, je vous invite à me répondre!)

Il portait jadis l'étendard d'un projet de souveraineté-association.  Aujourd'hui, c'est Option Nationale qui prend la relève.  Le PQ m'apparaît comme un parti sclérosé, réactionnaire et tout aussi avide de pouvoir que le parti Libéral.

En fait, parlons-en!  Comme il est bon de sentir le renouveau de la question ''nationale'' au Québec!  (Ou est-ce seulement dans une partie du milieu francophone Montréalais?)
Je sais pertinemment que le débat est plutôt embryonnaire pour l'instant.  Je sais très bien qu'il attise les passions.
Or les Québécois n'ont pas envie de se chicaner.  On n'a pas envie de se chicaner avec nos proches.  On préfère être confortables, au chaud,  et la programmation télévisée de la prochaine saison semble fort intéressante.

Le fait est qu'il reste beaucoup de place au développement de meilleures habitudes démocratiques au Québec.  Nous avons de très bonnes bases - don't get me wrong.  Le printemps érable aura re-réveillé la fibre politique et militante québécoise.
Parce qu'il est impossible de considérer l'expérience québécoise sans admettre les dynamiques de pouvoir qui y jouent.
De ce fait, nous sommes fondamentalement politiques, quoique nous sommes aussi prisonniers d'une mentalité dualiste et antagoniste.  Et nous pourrions peut-être apprendre l'art de la négociation, de l'écoute, et de la communication non-violente ?  Peut-être alors serions nous capable de discuter des projets de sociétés autours d'une bonne table, avec les membres de notre famille et autres gens qui ont des opinions différentes?  Peut-êter pourrions nous identifier les besoins qui nous unissent, et travailler ensembles à la réalisation des étapes servant à y répondre le mieux possible.

Un duo de pancartes qui m'a fait verser une larme de joie

Au risque de me répéter: Il serait grand temps de transcender notre mentalité de victime.  Il serait grand temps de faire le recensement de nos forces et de nos valeurs.

J'anticipe l'élection du 4 septembre avec un brin de doute, pour ne pas dire de dégoût.  J'ai l'impression que plusieurs citoyens auront vécu une mini révolution grâce à tout ce qui s'est profilé dans les derniers six mois, et que nous pourrons dénoter une petite part de changement.  Or j'ai bien peur de voir le status quo l'emporter à nouveau.

politics and the phenomenology of paradox

Sitting in my former school, the California Institute for Integral Studies. Soaking in. Reading and meditating on the different objects of my attraction.  On the one hand, mysticism and the taste for a free, unconditioned experience of Life.  On the other hand, visions and fears concerning the condition of matter, humankind, society, and Mother Earth.
I've been reading Mircea Eliade on Yoga.  I've also been seeking those with explicit inclinations towards consciousness studies... taking full advantage of this special Bay Area spirit.  It's clear to me, a region produced by the frontier mentality had to be permeated by idealism.  This place was born out of the necessity and capacity to see further, to open up paths into the unknown, to envision riches and dig for it.  The gold rush is of the past, but furher riches are being unearthed here. 
We've colonized land to the very edge of the new continent, and so came facing the unchartered territories of the mind, aided by the wisdom of Indigenous (behind) and Asian (ahead) cultures... This to me is one of the greatest gifts of San Francisco.

I am re-membering the pieces of my own journey.
I am considering the nature of time, and space.
I miss Montreal and the nation of my ancestors.  And in the material plane I wonder, I feel, that I can contribute something of what I've been learning...

Back in Quebec, the elections have been officially announced by the prime sinister - uh, minister.  Given what has sprung out of the "Printemps Erable", Charest might be right on one point: these could be the most important elections in the history of the province.  Or not.

It's 2012.  How many are able to dare and be visionaries?  How many would agree with my intuition; that we too are of a certain frontier mentality?  We are made up of pioneers (though we were first enslaved to the Catholic Church, and since then, to our fears and victim mentality.), ingeneers (for we had to keep ourselves warm and sufficiently fed) and hard-working families.  We were multicultural from the start, all immigrants on indigenous territory.  We have wide spaces and tons of ressources; water, minerals, wood.  We have circumstances, which point to warmer climates and future population growth.

We have so much potential.  If we acknowledge it.
If we can truthfully consider the power structure and the dynamics that are making up our society.  If we can keep talking amongst neighbours to revitalize the connections we have with one another; if we can let this be a strength that helps us out of fear and stagnation.  If we can imagine what is possible through emancipation and cooperation.

I cannot deny my vocation for political philosophy.  I also cannot deny my understanding that there is an Ultimate reality, beyond the illusion of separation and the fear of ego death.
I wonder how to honor both.
I am sitting at the California Institute of Integral Studies.

Of minds and men (Mtl, Moscow, Mind)

Création d'espaces créatifs

All things are well in the midst of the Squirrel's Spire.

  Beautiful encounters over the past few das, the past few weeks.  I am trying not to make sense of it all but rather to experience it, with trust.  With breath.  

If the results of this experiment in abundance have been positive so far, I simultaneously feel another strong emotion... The depth of the Unknown, the compulsive fears and reactions, the anxieties of eminent change, of a potentially profound transformation.

Power to the Neighborhoods!
(Oui!)

As the Second Quiet revolution is starting to take place, we, the people, and I, actually, are starting to wonder... what's the point again?

''Le tintamarre des Casseroles'' is still happening, every night, though in reduced numbers now.  It has been going on since May 18th.  That's almost one month!  Every night, some... citizens get out and start following sidewalks and banging on their pots and pans.  Neighborhoods concentrate and relate, in this demonstration against the undemocratic absurdity of Loi 78.  Oh yeah, that's why!

But people also go to work everyday.  They also eat and so they cook or buy food.  They go for a drink or two, they see their friends.  We want the revolution AND life as usual.  We want to eat well and to be surrounded by people we love.  And why not?  You can't be on the battlefront at all times; because then, what are you fighting for?

Is the movement losing its breath?  I don't know, 'cuz I haven't been to the protests!

I am fighting for the Beauty and the interconnection in All things.  I am fighting for the Mystery of Life.

But sometimes I find it hard to sustain the fight.

Thoughts?  If the human species disappeared, it would take no more than a hundred years for planet Gaïa to rejuvenate Herself.

We are not indispensable.

 By now, we have to acknowledge that, since our arrival, we have been the most destructive species on Earth.  We need to acknowledge this reality, our reality, if we want to move forward.

And so once more it seems it comes down to some primary Guilt.  Damn guilt.
When you mama gave birth to you, it was the most painful and mystical experience... and yet.
 It's just how it is.

(Plus we now have epidurals anyway.  Not that I'm against it, just that we have adapted to make birth less painful and less dangerous.  Less mothers die I suppose.  That's a good thing!  But we get born in these conditions now, shielded and numbed from the pain of birth, and so we carry this on later in life, using more drugs, which I am not saying I am against either... given that it's all interconnected, and that the Earth also gives us these plants...)
(I could go on and one with musings on sacred medicine, but that'll have to be for another time.)




In short, all in all, consciousness is quite a phenomenon...

What are they trying to sell to us?

Une affiche, un manifeste non-signée. (Centre-Sud.)

 Of course I am trying to make sense of what's going on.  Why wouldn't I?  Why wouldn't a tree drink from its roots and tend toward the Sun?

 I don't need a lot of money.  What would be nice, however, is a good camera...

P.S. Remember !  The whole world is going through its revolutions.  One hundred thousand people gathered yesterday in Moscow, to overtly protest Putin's government and ask for new elections.  

Since embarking on his third presidential term, Putin has taken a stern stance toward the opposition, including signing a repressive new bill last week introducing heavy penalties for taking part in unauthorized rallies

Read more: http://www.canada.com/news/Tens+thousands+flock+anti+Putin+protest+Moscow/6768552/story.html#ixzz1xbCWp9cE

Yep.  It's happening in Russia right now.  Same thing!



A famous photo from Germany.  Cops suddenly take off their helmets and escort the anti-capitalist protests taking place in Frankfurt...  May 19, 2012.   (That was about two weeks ago.)



And in Poland, also yesterday!  :D  This is in parliament.

Political ecology: we're relating

I had diner with about 14 roommates tonight. It was the Shire family from downstairs, and us all squirrels from the spire; a last supper before many leave us for the summer, to plant trees in British Columbia, to go back home to Barbados, or to move forward to new adventures as new parents! Next week, things will be so different.

We can all feel it. Something is changing. ''What's next?'', we ask.
The conversation some of us are having is the whole point.
Citizens engaging in endless debates, exposing their opinions, and thus exploring and exposing their values. Citizens finally having a conversation, so at least, there is finally some kind of communication happening. We are mobilizing, organizing, and talking about our pains and our visions.
Not everyone, but many are starting to consider the puppeteers casting shadows on the cave wall, we are naming it: the illusions propagated by the media. The veil.


Apocalypse:

Emprunté au latin apocalypsis (« révélation »), lui même emprunté au grec ancien ἀποκάλυψις, apokálupsis (« découvert »), et non pas « révélation de Dieu » comme cela est communément admis. Provenant du verbe grec καλύπτω, kalúptô (« cacher »), précédé du préfixe de privation ἀπό ápó. Littéralement donc « dé-caché », et donc par extrapolation, « dévoilé au yeux », « retrait du voile », « le voile est levé ». Ce n’est que bien plus tard que les écritures religieuses assimileront le mot pour l'associer au jugement dernier et donc à la découverte de la vérité de Dieu.

In Le Devoir online, a reader started a debate about strikers being constituted of a great majority of students of what she called the ''soft sciences'', i.e. human, social, literary sciences. Oh my friend, you should have read what other people responded! (You can click on the link above). This sort of debate is happening anonymously, which creates a certain distance, but I find it wonderful, that citizens be sharing their point of view.

Someone recently told me: ''We shouln't talk about politics when we're in family.''

Well, I think we should. It's hard to come face to face with disagreements. Discussions get heated. It's easier to shy away from conflict and mute the tensions that exist. It's also dangerous, as a collective, to deny the issues that concern us all.
We should gather around, people of Montreal. What we have is something so special: French, English, and a dozen more ''nationalities''.. we should open up that discussion about what ''nationality'' means, to acknowledge the inescability of ''politics'', and to generate thoughts and actions that will contribute to a better tomorrow.


We should share in the excitement of not knowing what tomorrow is going to look like, and share in the fears that come up for us too. We should see the web we have been waving, and use it for Good.
(So far, in my book, Good = sustainable.)


--------

I can't believe that I'm living in this city, at this time. i can't believe that I do live in the co-op I have been talking about for years! Yes it's hectic and it's sometimes crowded, but so is the world out there. We are social researchers, organizational revolutionaries, even though we're still so much working at what it all means.

Yes I live with ''a bunch of students'', and somehow I sometimes struggle with that thought. As if it was a pejorative classification. As if it was "better'' to have already found your place (read: a career) in society. But tonight as we were talking about politics and ecology, I smiled to myself and realized that it is a privilege and a huge responsibility, to be studying this society and this world we are about to ''enter'' and take part in.

students digging for books!

In other words: this is the way we take part in it. This is our way of showing maturity. We are rebelling, taking to the streets, as an existential response and a duty, as citizens of tomorrow.
Are we complaining with our mouths full? Sure. (Is it better to complain after you've gone hungry?) Our mouths are full of genetically modified food, soaked in pesticides and chemicals meant to kill other creatures. Our mouths are full of foods that are being produced by underpaid farmers and sent halfway across the world, in gas guzzling trucks, on highways that are built on the lands of indigenous people. 

We want to do politics with what we're learning through ecology. Everything is interrelated.
Seems to be the new cosmology. It would seem that humans have always organized according to the myths that underlie their understanding of the universe.

Bios-que-faire?

Psychic tension.  Tension psychique.
I've been offered a job... in a wonderful independent bookstore!  Biosfaire offers books on everything from permaculture to Buddhism, to anthroposophy, holistic health, and transpersonal psychology, to community living, consciousness studies, and super foods...

I had walked in there out of curiosity, and did something I never quite dare to do by asking, ''Do you guys happen to have a job opening?''
''Well yes, actually, in March.  You can give us your résumé.''
So I did.  I printed the appropriate version and walked over there (It's 10 minutes from where I live right now, and it'll be a ten minute bike ride once I move to my new place ... and get a bike) to find the owner doing her inventories.
''I studied Philosophy, Cosmology, and Consciousness'', I said, handing my résumé.  ''So your place pretty much feels like home!''
''Where did you study that?'' she asked.
''In San Francisco.  I just returned.''

She called me about a week later, that is, a few days ago.  ''Honestly,'' she told me, ''you are over qualified for this retail and service job... However, I do think you would have a good time working with us.''
I do too.  The problem is that it doesn't pay anything.  I mean, 16$/hour at a community center is already quite basic... But this.. is not even close to that.

I don't know what to do.
I just turned in an application for a position with the most amazing Non-Profit organization, called Exeko.  There, I'd get to use words, and symbols, as well as my social skills (I'd work in communications), in order to represent and promote artistic, cultural, and educational programs which are taking place with indigenous, incarcerated, and mentally disabled populations!  I mean, talk about an integration of my interests!
But what if I don't get it?

Maybe working in the hub of holistic health would be just as perfect...
I'd get to smell everything that's being published (oh! the scent of a freshly-printed book!), I'd certainly get to discuss eco-psychology, power of intention, and planetary wisdom with clients; I'd be able to speak that language on a day-to-day basis.  I'd be surrounded by the work of those I emulate.  I'd be inspired... and-or overwhelmed.
I was just telling a friend about feeling overwhelmed when I'm in a bookstore sometimes.  I want to read them all, and comment on them all.      I want to write them.  (But not all).

I was just telling another friend, that regardless of my stance against capitalism and consumerism I actually want to be financially comfortable.  I don't know exactly how that's done.  I guess the more you have and the more you fear of losing it anyway.  And what's being ''comfortable'' ?  I've lived with the premise that keeping my needs in check is a good start.  Do not succumb to the consumerisssss serpent.  Do not get fooled by advertisement.  So many get into debt trying to fulfill an emotional gap with stuff.  I just have to make sure I don't do that.  I just have to make sure I spend my money on what really matters...

But. 9, 75$ for an hour?

Acting out of fear? (of not finding something else)
Or acting out of love? (I've always dreamed of working in a library... and this is the best independent library in town!)

What do to?

Ecovillage.. in the name of ?

The revolution is happening.
Well, it has the potential of happening.
And I feel a bit scared.

I am facing an opportunity to step into what I have been professing to be my dream!  (Careful what you wish for, hehe).  Less than two months after my return to the native land, and I have already found and met a group of people who speak the language of permaculture, who share visions of organizing into ecovillages.  They speak the language of permaculture and they agree that it is essential that we begin to learn, how to grow our food, and how to grow... socially, together.
I've been thinking about socio-political organization for at least ten years now.  I've been talking about egalitarianism, and community-living for almost as long.  Yesterday, as I sat in the living room of a fellow visionary and discussed the potential of the ''Institut de desurbanisation'', I gradually came to feel the significance of my conclusions.

The idea would be to live communally, in the city, while preparing for a transition to the ecovillage.  We'd be learning several skills to regain some autonomy, like sewing, knitting, canning, brewing, fixing and renovating the house, etc.  That's exactly what I've been ranting about for the past six months!
But the thought of actually doing it: living and working together, makes me a bit dizzy.  Have I grown to comfortable in my individualistic modern ego?
The truth is, I don't know these people as well as I know the friends I have had over the past fifteen years.  With my old friends I have sweated and fought (most of us played soccer together), won and lost, cried and laughed.  We have witnessed and supported each other through idyllic and horrendous love stories, through break-ups, confusions, joy and dreams... We have been through so many changes together...
Now there is a brand new group of people I could be moving forward with.  We could be entering a new phase of change together.  We could create change!
But we don't know each other yet.
And is that even what scares me the most?

Or is it the thought of eventually leaving the city?  No more world-music parties, no more impromptu meeting at the pub for a drink, no more sitting in a café with my laptop, no more dance classes, no more théâtre, no more daily multiculturalism.
Do I want to retreat from all of that?

In the name of energetic autonomy, in the name of food security, in the name of building an example of what could be...

In the name of every human being who is being oppressed, beaten, starved, raped, and forgotten... just because they live on a land where natural resources are being extracted...  In the name of voluntary simplicity... of anti-consummerism... In the name of indigenous people in Northern Canada, who are watching their last frontier getting drilled and destroyed by the oil industry...
In the name of fresh water and the hundred of animal species who have gone extinct over the last fifty years... In the name of heavenly Pacific islands, which are now slowly sinking under raising levels of ocean waters... In the name of ghettoized populations being plagued with pollution emanating from irresponsible industries and the spread of landfills (it's called 'environmental racism, look it up)...
In the name of my Cuban, Mexican, and Salvadorean amigos, of Palestinians and Israelites, of Syrians, Russians, Tibetans... in the name of my neighbors in Hochelaga-Maisonneuve... In the name of PEACE, in the name of Love for this planet and all the wonders it has gifted us with...

In the name of Life, simply.
Out of fear that we'll end up blowing each other up for fear of scarcity?

I am trying to re-trace the line of thought that brought me here today.

In the course of my political, environmental and philosophical studies I have come to consider most wars and injustice as symptoms of deep-seated unconscious fears (that stem from the illusion of separation).  Fear of lacking.  And from that fear, the sprouting of greed, lies, violence.
Peace doesn't mean the absence of struggle or dialectic.  But it does mean the end of violence.

In the course of my study I have come to value egalitarianism as an ideal to strive for, if we are to develop a sustainable peace.  And I have come to value wildness as the necessary source for creativity to keep flowing.

I'd like to eat food that is wholesome.  I'd like not to depend on the industry for my sustenance.  I'd like solar and wind power to replace the nuclear.
We're not mature enough, as a species, to make use of such powerful a tool.
We must learn how to live together.

Dreams are bubbling

I am tired, but I'm happy.  Life is good and full of new connections.
And I like connections.  They mean more mirrors, more reflections, more truth.
There is so much I want to convey that I run the risk of going abstract.  It happens like that a lot.
But the theme of today was Grounding, so in that spirit I will make an effort to focus my entry a bit.
And besides, I am extenuated.
I just got back from an important meeting.  No, it wasn't a job interview.  It was a preview of a possible future though, a taste in what my life's work could be... of what life could be.

There were 37 of us and we came from many different regions of the province of Québec.  (In case you wonder: that's 1,667,926 square kilometers, which is three times the size of France, and a big 20 percent of the USA.  In short: the province of Québec is LARGE.)

Some of the people there already knew each other through the Occupy Montreal movement, others came form small villages that are 5 hours away from the big city.  Some were veterans of the 70s and the 80s commune experiments, some of us don't remember a life before the advent of the internet.
I didn't know anyone; I had only had a few cyber exchanges with one of two of the organizers.  We came from the four corners and spanned at least two generations, but we all shared one basic intention:  the creation of a self-sufficient and healthy eco-community, according to the principles and philosophy of permaculture.
37 strangers, one utopia.
For where is this place going to be?  Are we talking about one, or more communities?  What land(s) do we have available?  What does the process involve?  What resources do we already have?
Do we mean the same things?

Permaculture means that we recognize how fundamentally interconnected and interdependent we are.  It means we are ready to see, observe, and learn from what's before our eyes: the Earth is wise and she is teaching us about diversity, complexity, and unity.  She's teaching us about relationships, cycles, and change.  She's teaching us about equilibrium.

We have had enough of buying into the false promises of the capitalist system.  We don't want to waste anymore resources and time: we'll create the alternatives.  We'll build new models, propose new ways.

Changes happen at the periphery.  If Darwin was right, the fittest organisms will be the ones living on.

There is so much I would like to revel into while reflecting back on today's experience.  But I want to go sleep for now.  It is only the beginning...

A wonderful experience is in the works...

Sitting on the Dock of the

I wish it was summer outside.  I do.
My strong self knows I can pull this through,
but the truth is,
who wants to live like this?

I miss the sun.
So bad.
The green grass, even the rain.
(forgetting how brutally freezing a San Francisco summer can be)
This grass that's always greener,
on the other side.

I'm listening to Bjork, sitting on a wooden chair in front of this wooden table.  Pedestrians are bundled up outside, the sun is very bright.  My astrological planner to my right, an empty glass of orange juice, the English language, three juggling balls, a cell phone, two bandanas (two?)... and a pile of papers: my ''résumé'', flyers, a map, pamphlets and notes...
What's my summary? My résumé?
How to resume?
I would rather live in the present, with you
Wouldn't you?

It's hilarious, to be staring the process in the face like this.


A New beat generation, traveling through dubstep beats, gathering in festivals.
I must not give up.  I must.  Relax.

The truth is, I love not to work!!
Are you kidding me?  I'm sitting here LISTENING TO MUSIC AND WRITING, and learning and dreaming and watching the sun go around, on a different time wave, that's all.
Like the fool on a hill.
Pierrot la lune.

Et tous les souvenirs.
Ce romantisme chronique,
ces désirs.

Au-delà du romantisme et du nihilisme, je pense toujours à Nietzsche.  ''What would Nietzsche do?''
He would ask if this moment is worth living, over and over again.  He would ask if your heart is open so wide you could explode - or implode, as his did - of this passion for all things alive...
No, he wouldn't do that.  I would.

The truth is that I love to write.  I find the highest pleasure in feeling those waves of thoughts pulsate through my wrist onto the page, or to the very tips of my fingers, when it's a computer.
Otherwise, still.
''You may say I'm a dreamer.''

(Who are your heroes?)

In truth, right now I terribly miss San Francisco.  It crawled up on me last night, as I finally went to rest.  I had a heavy feeling in my stomach, the sudden pull of nostalgia, and my heart filling up with tears.  I didnt quite cry, but I let myself tear up and feel the pain.  I hadn't been feeling it.  I keep myself busy and/so I don't think about everything I left behind.
My life!  A clan of spiritual warriors, those streets and those parks I knew so well, all the stuff I tried so hard not to acquire but did, in the span of five years.  My things, my things I couldn't throw away.
They're in a bunch of boxes in the garage of my former ''boss'', who is also my friend...for we played in the snow and ''crazy carpet'-ed together.

I know that missing San Francisco doesn't take anything away from this new place.  Just as missing the culture of my former home doesn't take anything away from the hearts and mind of the people here.  I love you very much too, med ami(e)s, it's true.  Please forgive my absence then and understand that I am in a whirlwind, and simply trying to keep myself in the middle of the storm until it gradually winds down.

I know the value of time and timing.  I still have no regrets.  (Though in that wave of emotion last night, I did.)
And besides, I've already had a few of those moments since I've moved here... you know, those moments...  of pure grace, of great beauty!?  It's not the place, it's the state of mind.  That's a huge part of my experiment.
Spending my days thinking about the future of financial security, mine as well as the macro-scale's.  Spending my days thinking about what I want to be doing all day.  Turns out, that's what works ends up being: the thing you do all day.  What kind of days do I want to have?  What can we create?
Spending my days with flashbacks, flash cards of all the sublime encounters I have been blessed with.  Wondering if tomorrow can be as bright and light as what I had on the Left Coast.  Wondering about cold and industrial societies, industrious and creative societies.  Wondering about multiculturalism in formation, for ever and increasingly, the planet getting so small and the power of the few, so big.

Do you think that my degree in ''Philosophy, Cosmology, and Consciousness'' might freak out or turn off potential employers?  Could that be it?  What do they think?  What do they know about what it means?  I can barely articulate it myself!!  I wouldn't know where to start.

''Once upon 14 billion years ago...'''

C.I.I.S. meant that we were in graduate school trying to face and cope with the Greatness of the Universe.  We had our own language, our own micro-culture, our shared experiences so that we could talk about what lays underneath it all... And we would smile and say: Namaste.  (Not without an awareness of the cultural appropriation issue it represented- though the school was indeed founded by Indian scholars.  It was 1968.)

Where have I been?  I've been beyond the pre-Socratics to indigenous populations through the earth and the thirteen skies... to the Big Bang that resounded in the Heart of Brahma, Shiva, and Vishnu... beyond the first Sound to the eternal OM, and back.  I've been from the Middle Ages to the Far West, between lands and sea, running on a treadmill waiting in a traffic jam.  I've been.

Walking the ancient streets of Istanbul, Byzantine, Constantinople... taking strolls on snaky hilly streets after dark, breathing the air of history, getting lost, feeling the beautiful complexity and the tension reigning and breathing with its people.  Prague, Marseilles, Carcassonne, Granada.

Here.