Ouroboros

The ouroboros is one of those symbols of some concept which is relevant to humankind in different times, and countries. India, Mexico, Greece, Egypt all have a version of the serpent eating it's tail.
The concept is the hungry nature of life- that creative cycle we can not escape.

Three or four days have gone down the drain under a cloud of despair. That familiar feeling, I've known since childhood. It's never so acute as to be able to name it, other than despair.
There is no I feel sad "because", or I would feel better "if"- when this creeps in, it creeps back out on it's own watch. Generally, there is some reinvention happening in the deepest currents of my consciousness, and I am aware of it only at the tail end of the ordeal, when there is a break in the clouds- a very definite "ah-ha" moment happens.
Whether it's an insignificant whiff of honeysuckle and roses caught heavy on the breeze, or a clear idea, concept, answer! The break in the clouds comes, with or with out trigger, and if a person's breathing could be emotionalized, then that would be the closest thing I can compare it to:
i can breathe again.
The despair comes in dressed in shadow, holds my head under the surface of the River, till I think I'll never make it back out, then is gone so fast as to make me think it was all in my damn head.

I'm trying to listen to my gut.
I think it's telling me to figure out how important it is that I meander and wander, alone- not lonely.
There is another leg of the individuation process underway, and I know better than to whine about the unpleasant feelings it tends to stir.

The Ouroboros and it's hunger for it's own existence, it's cyclic nature- just makes so much sense out of many angles of this life.
With every day lived, another goes toward the grave.
The nourishment of our bodies paves the way to the death of our souls.
Our nature is to dwell on the parts of our selves which we feel should be changed, while the parts which are changed all the time tend to go unnoticed.

My romantic relationships, and friendships, have had a bit of Ouroboros about them.
Usually the things I want so badly in the beginning of a relationship, like provocative conversation, intimate awareness, touch, laughter, support- falter in and out of the relationship like the sub-particles which make up matter flash in and out of existence, and this has not bothered me so much as it does now.
I have compromised the quality of the relationship, because I have been too grateful to have the relationship.
I need to understand the importance of calling things by their real names.
I need to start figuring out how to get to know people slowly, let time build the relationships of my life, instead of my dumb young ass.
The relationship is there, but to let it go on living in the toxicity of the unquenchable hunger for more, is to let the fucking thing just rot. There is nothing wrong with knowing when the relationship isn't what we'd hoped, our thought, knowing when to walk away, let go, keep on.
Life is too short, to be touched without emotion being expressed, to be conversed with but not heard, to laugh without smiling.
   

Same Damn Thing, Different Weather

So, there's the River that is the physical, powerful body of life and the universe and everything.
Within and around that river, there are biological beings- plants, fishes, slimy salamanders, birdieses, and of course all manner of exo-skeletal-ed bug/craw fish type gizmos- these are "us" as well as "them".
Well, on top of  and all around and in between, there is the Weather, the emotional/spiritual/energizing invisible but very affecting and utterly non-controllable spin that is put on things in and around the River.

You feed yourself the good, right stuff, you take yourself out for exercise, and you give yourself plenty of sleep, and you should, in theory, grow up to be a big beautiful...something.
However, some time's of the "year" in and around the River, the weather is not, shall we say, the very most conducive to pretty little poppies or begonias. The weather can be devastating, and if you aren't resistant, if you are not adaptable- if you do not figure out a way to store water for the dry, windy days, and hunker down and hold on to something during the flood days, you will be gone in the blink of an eye, absorbed into the scenery- made use of in some other way.

I've been feeling the weather.
Some storm is raging somewhere, I just know it. Hopefully it's not one of those internal storms when left un tended leaves a big mess which comes out sideways later. I've been trying to accept the internal atmospheric fluctuations of life on the River. I find it is easier to accept early on and ask questions later.
I scowl sometimes while I walk Maggs, thinking about "okay, well, that didn't kill me. In fact, its been good." But scowl on, "What now?"

This, that, the other aren't making sense, aren't "clicking", such and such just doesn't feel right- something over there is coming up and I don't understand just what the flying fuck I'm suppose to do other than stand around with a shovel/trowel/cup-o-joe/broom in my hands till I can't not react to it.

In nature, the hawk swoops, kills, eats, preens, poops, preens.
In the River, human interaction is clumsy, slow- clueless even to the best of us.
The thing that never changes is the fact that nobody can know another's heart. We just have to focus on the changes in our own, prepare for foul weather, enjoy the breaks in the rain.
Try and share our own truth, it's the only way we will truly know if anyone out there understands or appreciates "it", or a similar analogy to our truth.
We can not peer deeply or patiently enough, into the River, to find the answers to the questions which come from our hearts.
Sometimes we attract sturdy old beach pines to shelter us, rattly snakes to hide in our bushy twigs, and we aren't as vulnerable to the storms, or at least, we aren't alone in our awkward vulnerability.

Bookie

I've been reading this book, Female Chauvinist Pigs by Ariel Levy, and let me tell you!

"Women and the rise of raunch culture" pretty much sums it up, only there's so much I want to say about it!

The feminist movement was about equality in colleges, the work place, society- but for me, it's also about underlining the powerful truths that are the differences between men and women, that they make women not less, but greater in suffrage, in the responsibility to give birth, along with our equal if not greater ability to achieve the same professional, academic goals as our male counterparts. Feminism to me, was/is about our right to individualism as human beings, not individual as only women, separate from the rest of society.

This book so far (I"m in 93 pages of 200) is rubbing our noses in the spectacle of raunch culture, and the so called feminists who've spawned it in the name of women!
There are women out there claiming full-heartedly that women choosing to strip, be involved in porn, live "male-ishly promiscuous" lifestyles, do so in the name of feminism. Somehow, we've taken a concept like the right for women to be taken seriously as human beings with our male peers, and turned it into some sexual revolution. Be aware, as Susan Brownmiller is quoted, "you think you are being brave, you think you are being sexy, you think you are transcending feminism. But that's bullshit."
Just because it's our idea to objectify ourselves, it's okay?
REALLY?
Shame on you, I say!

I am realizing that my role as a woman has been bashed and bent by a male's idea since I was sixteen, wanting nothing more, or less, than a marriage like relationship to be part of.
I am living a more developmentally appropriate lifestyle than I have, EVER. I am probably feeling so damn good, because I am not going against the grain of who I really know I am, have always known. I am not staring agape at some male counterpart, ready to be made whole. I am looking at ME, at all I've been through, and I am taking myself seriously for the first time.
My desire to be the sexual plaything of my male peers has come from something so not sexual, and I can only hope that my female peers find this out for themselves sooner than later.
 

The You Set Me on Fire Blues

Things have been really good.
Really Really good.

I had been noticing that feeling of looking over one's shoulder, waiting for the shoe to drop, so to speak- things have been going so well.
I've felt like that person I knew I was supposed to love and appreciate, but didn't feel authentically enough like to truly adore. There she is, I keep saying.

But what was I thinking, for so long, so dearly, so truly loving that man? What business did I ever think I had in his life?
I must remind myself, it all started the night he shoved my feelings under the rug he shagged braceface on- last fourth of july. Every female friend he had either gave him money/work, or at one time was his fun bag.
The chip on that guy's shoulder was monumental.
He was monumental, to me, for whatever reason- I can't recall at this time.
At this time, I see clearly a flood of the way he really was, how toxic he was for me- his little pals were never so invested and hopelessly devoted to him to get to see it, and I can't help but see these deep character flaws in my own self for having been so devoted.
Having been so very, very weak- so self destructive, that I was so ready and willing to murder myself for not living up to his expectations of  not even what I should be, but even worse, that I should be this generic box definition of what a good woman should be.
I thought I was fighting for a relationship, a lasting love- but now I see more clearly every damn day, I was fighting him, just him. He was good for fighting with, I loved so dearly, to hate him, and to belittle myself next to him.

I shudder.
I'm glad he publicly demoralized me that night at the bar with his dear friends, and came home to cut me loose.
I am glad it didn't drag on any longer.
I am glad the people he associates with, the ones who judge, the ones who follow in shallow single dimensional-ism, believe his crude A.D.D. illusions about human behavior, my behavior. I am glad that they listen to him- this way, I can hope, they won't touch me with a ten foot pole.
It's a good way to weed out the vampires.

Meaning Without Belief

I have spent many a day, of the admittedly few "under my belt", studying and trying to live the lifestyle of several different religious type "walks". The structure, and community of such organizations becomes the whole point of the thing before too  long, and the doctrine, the teachings, the wisdom which the congregation exists to pay attention to becomes some white elephant in the room.
That's the right expression, isn't it? The big, huge deal- which we all try not to notice.
I usually go to a sermon or whatever they call it in whichever church or gathering place, seeking something spiritual, something wise and old and huge like a blanket which drapes over generation and culture- wind up leaving, feeling nasty about the human race.

I also have to question my motives when my mind wanders toward the altar.
This time around, I think the appeal, as it was even when I was too young to have really ever done much to feel relatively repentant over, is a good guilt trip. I have always sought a good moral wringing out during times of discomfort and misunderstanding. I have always looked for an answer in the places which first require a person to prostrate themselves and bellow from deep down, I am wrong, I am bad, I am not okay as I am.
What a very powerful thing. and it does cover over generations, cultures- but is that the idea the belief, these practices really intend one to focus on?

Lately I've remembered kindly the sense of community, and the sense of betterment a choice few individuals within congregations. I look to the other side of the spectrum, and see tattooed, chewed up and spit out belief-less souls, and I still find congregation, community and a few choice individuals bent on being/getting better. I have been trying, and not noticing that the love I shared with somebody was not a big enough blanket to cover the complications and differences we brought together between us. I had prayed, meditated, wrote my wishes, feelings, confusions, admittedly messed up accusations onto paper and burned them, published them anonymously on the internet so strangers could critique them for me, buried them in jars of water and lilac in the dirt! All sorts of ritualistic devaluing of my being- my personal development, went into the relationship. So many things to try to make sense of, make excuses for, feel terribly about.

I could follow my old pattern and try relentlessly to string them all together with the needle of some God somewhere, some karmic past life direction, some sort of fate or destiny. But that shit is exhausting. There is never enough wisdom or knowledge in a single person, and when a person thinks they have done "right", there is always another person standing over them, criticizing, correcting or making suggestions.
Not that there is anything wrong with people thinking, or rather, knowing, they are wrong. Knock yourselves out. However, I think biologically, we have a natural tendency to contain a boundless intuition, which needs to be developed and trusted. In a natural state of balance to an individual's survival, there is contentment- there is peace. So often this search for peace rakes people over the coals of their own fear and hatred- leaves them a bit humbled but deeply ruined.

The Deftones "passenger" plays for me on jango. The music by the deftones is something I regularly visit, but have never really consistently explored. It's not happy, thoughful- it's mindbendingly thoughtful, and so brutally honest it's cruel, but somehow extravagantly beautiful to me.
A Perfect Circle, Nine Inch Nails, The Deftones. I like this kind of creative spark. This music is to aggressive to be pleasant, but it is incredibly inspiring and moving.
Dylan's voice is too coarse to be pretty, but it's beautiful just the same.

Early in the Morning

Little rooster crowing, must be something on his mind!

Since changing up my whole existence (okay that's an exaggeration and I know it!), I have been waking up at 6:40am despite how late I stay up, reading and watching movies, avoiding the lonesomeness of my new bed.
Maggie sure appreciates the early mornings, I like knowing that she is comfortably relieved even before I am awake enough to worry about it.
This little routine we are getting into suits me just fine. My fuzzy-wuzzy widdle girl dog likes her place in this world to be anywhere, so long as she is close to me and so far we have been able to do that.
She comes to work with me and is learning the rule about no doggies in the coffee part of the shop fairly quickly, however her terrier-ness invokes a bashful forgetfulness now and again, as she can't seem to help herself- she feels that she must greet and 'check out' the customers as they enter. Once things become too busy, we will have to start leaving her upstairs during my shift- I am nervous about that. This doggie throws a fit just about exactly the same way I do!

Yesterday was my 23rd birthday, the full moon, the fourth night on my own, the hopeful doc appointment, the yummy exotic dinner, and over all a very very good day.
I took my car to the shop after first pooping my dog at the brisk beach, in the brisk morning.
Found out that my Yoshi car needs a shoe replacement of some sort. The man at the shop is incredibly- I don't know, good. Good at his job, good at listening, good at communication. It will be affordable to fix, and he will have it fixed quickly. I wonder if he has daughters, the way he had dealt with me.
Then it was time to lay out an outfit for Indian food dinner with the Ya-ya's of Adelaide's, my bathing suit for the post yard labor-pre supper sauna and spa, maggie's away bag for her day with my lovely brother Allen- much preparation was required, much baggage was toted from stop to stop, but all was worth it in the end.

The doctor explained to me her experience with people whom are chemically imbalanced from the get go. As babies they tend to display depressed behavior, are particularly moody, as children they ditch their birthdays, as they become older they learn to cope but develop triggers and weak points, teens flake out, become bored with school- as young adults they struggle to keep focused on their life path, by the time they are in their mid twenties, they tend to begin to notice the patterns of ups and downs, the confusing clash of their good intentions and failures. Any how, for women, the hormonal chemicals associated with menstruation can be manipulated in such a way as to take the edge off of the up and down cycle, and more "naturally" encourage the chemicals in the brain to re-balance.
So today, I am going to fill a prescription for Seasonale and take my first dose this evening before bed, so that I do not have to deal with chemically induced morning sickness which will ensue until I adjust. Bleh.
But it is a new approach to the same old problem, and I am keeping an open mind, hopeful heart!

The yard work with Lenane was wonderful! I forgot which Fred how good I really am at it- not to his fault, it was just always a power struggle with him, or maybe I should just say it was more complicated to go out with him. Lenane and I get to have conversations with multidimensional undercurrents and understanding even when blissfully stirred by the gentle discombobulation of the herb.
In the spa afterward, the conversation became even more rich, but I noticed that unlike the time I've spent with women my age (and just fine and dandy, they have been) I didn't grow exhausted my her presence.
Dinner was a little exhausting as the underlying power struggle of folks around me makes no sense and crowds out the possibility for a simply good time, but none the less, the ya-yas behaved for the most part and we all left with smiles, kisses, hugs, and full bellies.
Astoria's waterfront marine drive got a little bare in the past few years. Shops emptied with the coming of the recession, so the bark windows between the few remaining shops made the street look like a toofless grin. Himani is a mother-and-sons owned restaurant- very beautifully decorated- especially when the young son is visible! I am very glad to see the shops start to fill back in.
Ethnic food, as I guess it can be referred as, Thai, Indian, Bosnian- are all so unbelievably flavorful without a lot of fat, or expensive ingredients. The food traditions have been developing for ages, practiced and perfected using the resources at hand through drought, famine, disease and are so unique to their own culture.
Reading Shantram piqued my interests about Indian cuisine, reading words like naan, masala, imagining how in the hell lentils and garbanzo beans could possibly be forced to be delicious.
How is it that you hardly see an obese indian person, though so much of their food is rich with butter, cream, carbohydrates?

This year I received a few cards, the cards from my grandmother are always elegantly beautiful- so I have one pretty card on my tv, surrounded by one on either side depicting funny babies. It's a good reminder of  how I am getting up there, have a couple decades under my belt, I am still very much an overgrown baby in the scheme of things. I feel as young as ever, maybe just a little more steady, a little more patient, a little less prone to cycle and circle pain and pleasure like I used to. But still very young, fearful and in awe of the big bad world "out there" but hungry for it, infatuated by the idea of it more and more so every day.

Shop Girl

I have moved my life into the apartment above Adelaide's, the 1800's built, historic Taylor House.

There is so much history here, if these walls could talk they would have so much to say.
I feel at home, at peace here.

The break from my lover has been a good thing.
I have never lived alone, felt the security and serenity of my own domain. I have never needed to reach out to non-romantic relationships for support. I have never had to only cook, clean, think, schedule for one.
I have never had to sleep in a place, far away from family or lover through the night without promise that eventually one would be there with me again. My moods have always received comments from the people I live with, and so often those comments are misunderstood, judgmental, though well meant.

The spikes of "happy chemicals" came from others, and I  have been shown a tendency of mine to leech, to depend on like nourishment these relationships for the balance of love and respect in my heart.
I have been shown that I am strong, and I am responsible for my moods, my actions, my inter-actions. That no other person should ever have the power to "make me feel" anything.
These things, as well as so many other intimately intertwined themes or truths of life, are things I have ran from. These lessons I have not learned, this responsibility I have not taken, manifests in mood swings, suicidal depression, hatred toward the person/people I some to rely on for so much, rage at my embarrassing moments and failures, at my short comings.
I am seeing a doc about these bad things, and the words I've heard from so many important people in my life keep ringing through my brain: "Ali, there's nothing wrong with you that you need medicine for, you just need to change your thinking, to change your behavior."
Mom and Papa Bear can tell you, have told me, that since I was able to express a bad attitude, I have.
Good attitudes too, but my spotted memory is refreshed when they talk about my high highs, and low lows, and how I go from one to another in the blip of a comment, gesture, or idea.
I have also been told that I am intelligent, loving, funny, and hard working (that last one has an on and off switch).
I have to consider the possibility that I was born, or was pre-disposed so from early on developed, imbalanced neuro-pathways, or chemical tides, or whatever they call them.
I know that this life change is for the best, and that I am on the right track.
However, as an insurance policy for the skin on my wrists, I am going to go on meds, so poo on you all who think that I just need to buck the heck up!
It will hopefully not take the five years docs and I spent on an unsuccessful voyage to find "the right one"  before my year and two months of this unmedicated horror movie to find something that works, and that I can afford.

Things in the not so far reaches of my mind include but are not limited to ;)
I become a student! (Imagine all of the people I can meet! Practice making and KEEPING friends!)
I save money to follow my family to Olympia!
Don't run back to Him- stay in the care of myself and my friends and my family until I have mastered responsibility, so I can repay someone for the pleasure I receive from having them in my life.

Things to force into the Front of my mind:
I have knitting fun with my sister, and make time to go to groups where knitters knit!
Sit in the Spa with Lenane!
Garden for fun and for money, now that I won't get to garden fun my own garden.
Take maggie for hikes in the hills, long long walks on the beach and in my cool new neighborhood.
MEET NEW PEOPLE.
Volunteer, help people- make time for this instead of drawing energy to cook, clean, resent, confuse, be ashamed.
Save money, now that I have learned how!
I won't be missing the family reunions this year, because I won't have to dance around the business of anyone else! And, I will have clear head space, a full heart, and attention to give to my family- which I have always wanted to do, but have been too distracted to take initiative and do!

I will need to start changing the way I cook, the way I think about cooking and shopping for groceries. But I know that I have fantastic resources in my family and friends to so that.
I will need to take care to stay busy- and when all else fails for entertainment, work= money and that's sure not bad!

Anyway, to my few followers, I just wanted to play on the computer and let you know about what's going on.
Sending love into the Web-
ALI

Crescent Waxing Moon

The Moon, and sun and our relationship to them have been obsessions to the human race since before the wonderings and findings could be painted on the walls of our first dwellings.
As a time obsessed culture, folks can now decipher and study the oldest studies and tell us the primitive conclusions and beliefs of our ancestors. Now-a-days, people can decipher more technologically advanced figures and findings about our planet, the moon and the sun.
Available to us are the exact exposure of the moon at any given time according to the earth, the axis of the earth and the moon, the approximate age of the sun, as well as the approximate outcome of the sun's ending life cycle and the impact it would have on the entire galaxy in which we exist.

As a woman, I can say that I have recognized the cyclical nature of my emotional/physical body as a monthly phenomenon. I have always been aware of the moon's monthly cycle, but gave it no mind until I experienced life with a fisherman, whose schedule hinged upon the mood swing of the moon through the sky.
I realized that the tides are affected by the angle of the moon in relationship to the sun, the earth.
I started reading about optimal planting times for seeds and tubers and starts and woody plants according to the phase of the moon. As this awareness grew, I noticed that certain patterns occurred during the month, concerning my vulnerability to the negatives in the day, more sensitive to the feelings and positions being expressed to me during the same times of, not the  month, but during certain times when the light of the moon is scarce.

This has been an interest of mine, but certainly not a definite belief or path.
But I have done some reading and talking, and after figuring out that the human brain is close to 80% water, that sex hormones are water soluble, and that the synthetic hormones in birth control inhibit ovulation and "fool" the brain into thinking it's body is pregnant, as the doctors say- I found that the body actually goes into a form of temporary menopause, where the moon is still affective, though in different way- I have come to pay attention to the moon, as it changes, so do I. And that is okay.

My cycle starts with the waxing moon. This is generally a time of tug of war between what I feel and what I want to be feeling.
Times of the full moon tend to be good times for revelation, clarity and confidence.
The waning moon reminds me that ovulation occurred, sometime, and I tend to feel run down and negative.
With the New moon, I tend to draw inward, become more contemplative and find it more necessary but less easy to spend time alone.

The crazy witch people- the pagans, have kept the primitive wonderings alive.
The waxing moon is associated with a Maiden Archetype,
The full moon is associated with the Mother Archetype,
The waning moon is associated with the Crone Archetype,
The full moon is associated with the Enchantress Archetype.

All very interesting.