The mind devoid of...

Sometimes the reality of our situations is staggering. When whittled down to all of the terrible or amazing details, at their absolute rarest, it can literally take your breath away. Makes you question how surmountable the truth actually is. Is this fixable? Is this even worth it? How is this EVEN happening?!

But the mind is a clowntastic playground. In those moments, it is completely devoid of the illusions that make these realities sustainable; but give it a few minutes and the Monet vision will reappear and soften the incredibly harsh edges. And once again, you'll move forward with little hesitation.

It's pretty amazing. The mind devoid of empathy and illusion face plants into the pit of despair or joy and still comes out alive. The reality of what we're actually able to cope with and celebrate in this hopelessly manic/depressive life is nothing less than exhilarating.

And that's all I have to say right now, at least that's all that will come out...

short babble.

I see faces in things. Lots of things. I used to think it was neat and mystical, but now I find it arrogant. What is it about me or about anyone that makes me see myself or something human in everything. 

Everything from flowers to stone walls to water to art to anything.

But really, what I do know about this arrogance, as I've touted; is it's driven by the genuine quest toward self betterment and understanding. If I can see myself in a flower, maybe I too am beautiful. If I see myself in a stone wall, I am strong with an eternal danger of avalanche. If I am water, maybe I’m unending and cleansing. If I am art, I am a creation, and I'm perceivable.

If I am you, maybe I have compassion for both of us.

And what is human anyway?

hu·man

  [hyoo-muhn or, often, yoo-]  Show IPA

adjective

1.

of, pertaining to, characteristic of, or having the nature ofpeople: human frailty.

2.

consisting of people: the human race.

3.

of or pertaining to the social aspect of people: human affairs.

4.

sympathetic; humane: a warmly human understanding.

noun

5.

a human being.

In #4 I back away from said arrogance and know, that this 'seeing,' is part of becoming that understanding and effectually being human and humane.

That's all I have to say right now.

the heart is a muscle...

Image from this site, which interestingly enough talks
about scar tissue... 

"The heart is a muscle and has a memory.

I wonder how far back it goes?
If it remembers incidents of other dimensions, dreams, past lives and the ethereal.

Maybe this is why difficult people are in our lives.
Maybe they aren't really difficult.

But our heart knows something we don't and it remembers them.
Remembers what they "did to you."
And so they rub you the wrong way, just by being.

I wish I had an eraser for my heart.
Clean off all the things they "did to me."
And start over.

I tried to scrub it clean with my mind.
Heart called mind pretentious and held on tighter.

So I tried again, to love with these hateful cell memories.
Clenching and strengthening the stubborn muscle.

Alas, at day break, it remembers you again..."


I had this conversation with my mind today and decided to be shameless. Tomorrow we begin a new emotional cycle with the New Moon in Aquarius. This is a very active new moon and lends a solid opportunity to begin again. Begin with compassion for man-kind and acceptance of individual differences. Aquarian 'brotherhood' if you will. And so, I thought just maybe it's a fortuitous time to detach from these heart memories. Call upon some higher philosophy to stretch the fibers into a more tolerant being.

Just maybe. And that's all I have to say right now.

redundant vision

It's time to start looking with different eyes. Untrained eyes. Eyes that see directly into, instead of outside of people and nature. Humans and things very much alive. The ones that bleed and breathe, but we look past them because they have some form of varicose veins, cellulite, other uglities and strangers aside. They walk around just the same as the 'beautiful' ones. Look past them, unless they appear to be what we're taught is beautiful. Unfortunately, I've found myself doing this very thing and such disheartening has me realizing how far I may have strayed.

But, today! I am moving on from that redundant form of vision and back to the more gentle person who lives in this shell. A woman was walking towards me at the gym tonight. An older lady, wearing ordinary clothes, short, wide framed, big legs and no smile. Not the kind of friendly older lady, you know the one who smiles at you or says hello, excuse me, etc. and as a result you definitely notice her. The other kind, the one who ghosts right past.

Anyways, I was walking towards her and glanced slyly at those walking next to me and nobody looked at her. I know, from experience, had she been the right shape, size and gym scant in clad, they would've stopped what they were saying and looked intently or 'skillfully.' Right...

Well, I looked at her, and I kept looking and this sort of subtle softness emerged and quickly too. It had nothing to do with her appearance, it was something entirely enigmatic about her humanness. And maybe it was just me, maybe there was nothing inherently 'special' about her, but I was suddenly back to being me and seeing the way that I do.

All this to say, striving tomorrow to do the same. To look at all humans, animals and living creatures through satiny eyes. I fear the trouble will undoubtedly be the other side of the sword. Seeing only the superficial in those the media has designed exactly for a trained eye.

We'll see...

two 14er's and other "unrelated" stuff

Gear Up. Leave Fear. Climb.

Last year we climbed Grey's Peak, a Colorado 14er. I remember being weary and cursing many languages on the way up and fraught with doubt and shudders on the way down. Fearful musings of falling and tumbling like a weed only to crash into a rock filled my melon. Dramatic fantasies of death as a shadow following me down the steep. And really, what's the worst that would've happened within those tiny avalanches speaking under my feet? Falling down and spraining an ankle? Taking a trekking pole to the ribs? Cuts and scrapes? It is in these times I remember, I am entirely too dramatic and my brain takes pains in adding such sensationalism to that which is really quite okay.

This past Saturday, we climbed Mount Democrat. A much steeper Colorado 14er outside of Breckenridge. It was cold and the mini-avalanches were slippery slushy snow underfoot whilst traveling uphill. Coupled with a rather steep, rocky climb to the summon. "I'm not going any further." I said, knowing I would end up doing it. It's almost as if somehow the fear of falling added to the dramatization of the "great feat" ahead of me. I mean really, isn't it more fun to make something really big and accomplish it? I'm just saying.

I can't say I've ever been one to feel the need to prove anything in this particular way, physically, so why bother? I'm not really sure, I think it was just the right time. Like the way life sometimes feels so enormous that the smallest of accomplishments become their own reward. Or the way, as of late, it's seemed my insides have been on a slow and steady climb on their way to some proposed view at the faraway top. Simultaneous internal and external determination amidst aggrandized fear and it somehow makes sense.

At least to me.

And in between all of this, something once again occurred; tell stories, paint pictures, make music and be out there. The reason humans create, sometimes just inside the mind, but to put forth all the extra that mundane life has no time for...

Alarm Sounds
Wake Up
Take Shower
Make Coffee
Eat Breakfast
Dress
Drive
Work
Workout
Eat
Sleep
Repeat

But these insides? They are busy 'doing' other things. Like writing great works about bettering the world or at least relating to some random individual, and momentarily, we are connected. Or postulating on the state of world affairs and how to better them. Or mapping a way to financial freedom to have the time to find one's purpose and impact the greater good.

I don't know. Maybe this is just the way I think. All I know is, after climbing 2 mountains in under a year, I still came away with that which is otherwise intangible. The sullen stripping of ego and understanding of inherent dichotomy and mundane imprisonment. Is that weird?

And that's all I have to say right now.