somebody needs to fire me

hiding in my room safe within my womb i touch no one and no one touches me

Hey, so I was going, for the second time this week, to give notice today at Joe on my way to ABQ by train (by bike as the car's broken beyond repair). But then the rusted seat of my bike rammed my balls as it fell off, hence I missed the train and didn't give notice. I got my RIGHT THUMB x-rayed instead, after a box of yogurt yesterday fell directly on the tip, jamming it straight back (x-rays negative), in the stupid fucked overjammed box i was trying to start cleaning up, while everyone else was stark mad with delusion on our horded 8th anniversary party weekend, with one bozo deciding it'd be a good idea to remerch the beer section, on a $200K day. They are hiring by the way, you could transfer right now if you wanted. I won't be here though, my incredible almost-girlfriend has inspired me by so directly pursuing her life calling that the only way i could possibly match her strength is by pursuing mine, which means leaving her and leaving here.

I may post this to my blog, you are more than generous with the space you allow me to blab. Blessings, at 11 1/2 out da Sox got em right where they want em!

here

How is it Spirit comes to me
when I least expect it?

It is something of a awakening to pray hard
and be received

to find that despite massive disspation
I am able to access strong dreams

amidst restorative sleep
which has left me completely liberated

with nothing but the present moment
to meditate in

-----

I have tried rigid attempts at yoga
only to tear a knee

rigid chants
which left me insane

and massive searching of phenomena
which left me exhausted

but the tender desperate plea
somehow generates the greatest result

and today I am filled
with peace and gratitude

-----

so now the cosmic pause
in response to my planned launch

job changes and knee changes
no apartment and no car

a maybe relationship
well beyond the rational

all leaving me liberated
to meditate and pray

one pedal in front of the other
right now and strangely

here

for all the dreamers

no right wrong this time
just a long breath in
before launch

there will likely be regrets
shoulda couldas
but no matter

some of us are born to live
without shackles
on our learning

no matter the suffering
we would choose
again

this moment of freedom
to be with the beloved
rain and shine

like everyone i have hesitated
wanting a bigger stockpile
better teeth

but there is a society
to belong to
somewhere

it might be the wwoofers
of the world
digging

it might be the dreamers
shapeshifting
to heal

revolutionary fiddlers
lovers dancing
drunks

better to die broken
on the battlefield
of longing

a shameful beggar
tattered in
disgrace

amidst like-minded
journeyers
in space

having lived truly
at least this

once

opportunity

Why is the blog nearly defunct?

I find words troubling. I am compelled to try and use them to communicate, to find meaning and express it. But as often as not, they create disconnection.

Who is this seeking the communication anyway?

Is there really a someone in here, who needs to be expressed, and if so, who would that be? The serious worrier, who realistically appraises 30+ years of relationships, and says impossible? The medicated adventurer, who more confidently dances? The barely competent, barely American economic entity, with no home, $300, and a car about to tank? The traveler, permaculture idealist, tantrika, in search of shamanic bioremediation? The stock clerk pushing 50?

Maleness is internally, culturally, environmentally as challenging as ever. Go too fast and get stuck in the selfish stupidity of romantic fantasy patterns. Go too slow and die, consumed by self-consciousness killing everything in its wake. Rely on hara power and find meaning full enough to run the gauntlets of paradox! Watch as a knee blows out and then there are no words left at all, no strategies, meaninglessness!

-----

In my most recent destructive affair, I was at once too masculine and not male enough.

I was too eager, too romantic, too sexual... and also too scared, inept, and lightweight. I was too caring and too uncaring. Needy of conversation and yet unable to generate it. Unintentionally injurious, and unable to help heal. In a two-day span, I traveled from stranger to friend to lover to ex. It was nearly two months ago now, and the time has passed in the blink of an eye. Why does it take two months to process a misguided two-day affair?

Time is the conundrum and also the savior of meaning here. Amidst all the failures and fuckups, with medications and incompetence and ideals all accounted for, there is still never a moment to waste in worry.

This living Now, with its living practical relational needs, is a Higher Power.

-----

And now suddenly you? What are we doing? What is your dream? How does any of this fit together? Put a hold on the expat strategy!

I do need to come clean about both my intense idealism and these edges that I live on... lacking any belonging to this capitalist system. Then we can talk across the unacknowledged chasm from my actuality to you here, and see if a bridge is worth building.

My search for integrity and willingness to love are both grand. The scattered points of reference which define me also include my New York intensity and speed, my introverted impossible delay, all my shadows, my desire to give over to someone so completely that I am revealed, my love of the liminal and need for directness.

Someone once told me that tantra is everything on the table in service of healing. I like that. A lot.

Do you have more structure than I do, a self to protect, greater sensitivity and need for clarity, as well as a greater capacity to direct? Is there space for my male desire to give to you, in a healthy way, more spiritual than romantic? Can I slow down enough to allow your process, yet still be present enough with healthy unselfconscious male drive to co-create this? What does maximum mutual nourishment look like?

Perhaps beauty

-----

Then ugly speaks, in turn, claiming its space!

Maybe things are both a lot less serious and a lot less rational than we are trying to make them. With all deliberation and pace, love is always a crap shoot of dysfunctions which will either align or not. It ultimately brings us face to face with the most naked ugliness of ourselves and another, our deepest fears and pain beyond our ability to bear, impossible choices...

And then with whatever prayer we can bring--conflict transformation, adventure, emptiness, hara--we again choose. Life is ever an opportunity to learn to say

yes

words

sometimes it's perfect

unloading six tons of pallets before breakfast
then contact dancing a couple hours at night

on a sore knee
not tonight

often pushing the envelope kicks
the life energy in

and it is absolutely rejuvenating
to feel it circulate across chakras

right now not so much

-----

tonight the dancing was too sensual
even for me

and i don't react well to anger these days
i just get angrier

underneath it all there is vulnerability
sad and most of all loneliness

i feel so near to love sometimes
on the other hand decades pass

and i am out of the last bit of patience
with everything

monsanto still makes billions
bombarding nature's seeds with radiation

and now g e and company follow suit
with humans

while people hem and haw
about every bullshit thing

that comes into their heads

-----

dance and work I can manage

for despite suffering joints
and hours spent on the clock

i am fed
but words

i've had it with
they get me nowhere but lost

they do not soothe my need for touch
or buy me ice cream

they stress me out with their stories
and create dramatic arguments

maybe some wordless camping
alone but at least by choice

can help this desperation
to imagine any pleasure

out there