Deep Links

The formlessness of lemons and strange lemonade

If there is one skill in which I excel, it is in turning the shit of the situation into a fertile experience. Of course, it's all a learning experience, and always material for the writer. And if you look deeper, a possibility for deeper practice. 

The last few days I've been considering the zen meditation, form is emptiness, emptiness is form. I've "meditated" on this phrase quite a bit this year. There is a mobius, fractal depth folding and unfolding in these six words. It makes perfect sense on so many levels. It is a dual - two opposing sides of a similar coin. But if you pull back and look at the phrase beyond time, you will see it has an expression in time and a different outside of time. Things move along the continuum from emptiness to the tiniest speck of possibility along the trajectory of manifestation of form, and then back to the dissolution of emptiness. The ebb and flow as waves lapping sand on a beach that shimmers inside and beyond time simultaneously. The phrase expresses perception coexisting in and beyond time. 

And hey, wanna blow your mind even more? Then just add multiple realities to the emptiness is form and form is emptiness. A constant folding and unfolding mandala through multitude perceptions of reality in time and in timeless. Yeah! Go brain.

What does this have to do with lemons? Well, as they say, if life gives you lemons, make lemonade. The sentiment to make the best of a bad situation. There's also the chinese parable of good luck, bad luck, who knows... 

Anyway, I got some pretty bad news about my favorite person, ahem, living being, my dog, Mr. Dog. He's an old man at ~13 and I've been steeling myself for something bad to occur that would mark the end of his time here with me. Well, news I recently received is he is diagnosed with lymphoma, a very common cancer of the lymph nodes for pets (and humans). Well, let's just say that was very saddening news to me. For 24 hours I kind of lost it. I lost all hope. I felt like I was at the end. That there was nothing to do... or worse yet, there were options and I had to figure out what to do. I learned an incredible amount of information (thanks to my friends) in those first 24 hours.

I had no energy. I gave up. I surrendered. I didn't want to fight. I finally knew the thing that would kill him. There is no cure. There is no hope for a cure. I was shocked at how quickly I surrendered. To have the realization that I am not a fighter. That this was a battle I knew I/we would lose. 36 hours in, I was coming out of my pit of despair. I saw other possibilities. I sprang into action. Could we help further science? I started researching clinical studies, to find a match. Nothing really presented itself, besides with the holidays people were out of the office. However, researching the clinical trials did cause me to understand the cutting edge research on this canine disease. Interesting data points presented themselves and I started formulating a treatment protocol based on science, my intuition, my own training in "weird shit," and having Mr Dog's happiness (he love avocados) as the objective.

Here's the good luck, bad luck, who knows, lemon part. All of a sudden, I have become excellent at dog care. I've put together a plan. I'm keeping notes. I'm using some skills I rarely utilize for this kind of thing, and in doing so, has caused me some deep reflections. Reflections about the metaphysical nature of disease as a form and its return to formlessness. As much as you could say life is a form to which it returns to emptiness, and perhaps disease is one way of the form of life returning to the emptiness. Can one life return to the formlessness of emptiness without death? So say the yogis, but that is beyond my pay grade. 

These are the strange lemons I have found in my holiday gift basket. And thus, I will make equally strange lemonade. Because good luck, bad luck, who knows?

Marsport

In the late afternoon light, the city of Twentynine Palms looks like a pioneer settlement on Mars. The mountains reflect the light of the setting sun, making all glow in the red light of our sun reflected in the clouds. The dust from recent storms soften the light, even while the crisp outline of the mountains glow - giving it that dusty look on so many scifi paperback covers of the 60s and 70s. The Marine base is flattened grid, tucked at an angle to hug the small range of neighboring hills. 

I am reminded the first time I set eyes on this place. Riding my motorcycle after a sleepless night. I knew then that someday I would live here. Today, I have just come out of the mountains and am physically exhausted, emotionally confused and probably hungry. I'm triangulating data to understand possibilities. Data points I know have disinformation braided through them. Truth and not-truth side by side, bleeding one into another. I am trained to hold many conflicting viewpoints and data at a time - believing and not believing, teasing out order and patterns from the chaos. I am thoroughly confused. I can see no way through this maze, and that is intriguing in itself.

But the view it spectacular. It reminds me why I came here. I'm curious, present here, taking in the experience through my body, to see what emerges from this very fecund alien landscape. Fecund is not a word I think many would use to describe the desert. I think about the fools who dream of dying on Mars. Do they not realize they live on their own alien planet if they only open their eyes and get outside of their comfort zone. At least here, in the Mojave, they can more easily go back to their lives in the city, with their friends and normal problems.

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I like complexity. Binary world views are too simplistic and polarized for one side or another. I want to know what's really there - the complex, messy, worldview twisted back on itself. My worldview recoiling in the reflection. But it's hard to see, understand, respect and even enjoy, because so often we are triggered by fear and programmed with all kinds of things to control because of the fear. It makes my heart break for all of humanity - but mainly Americans right now. And so I go deep into these complex black waters, eat the dead flesh at the gash between us, weave some web of compassion between the the edges of our American trauma. I sit here and pet trauma's head, tell it is is ok, because there is nothing else that I can think to do.

Snippets from Instagram

Cross posting a few of my favorite writings/images first posted on Instagram.

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Completely and utterly in love with this beast. Photo from Friday, 5:30ish am, pre-sunrise, deep in the Mojave. Just me, my dog, and my truck -which navigated some super hairy sandy/rocky desert roads no worries.

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Cheese plate du offroad. Here we have a nice collection of roasted beets, yams and carrots. With pepper jack cheese and sweet Hawaiian rolls. And a nice Pinot Grigio. Who says you can't offroad both in luxe and roughing it? Sunset in the Mojave National Preserve, before me and Mr Dog tucked ourselves into the back of the truck. So glad I brought my down comforter and extra blankets. Worth it to open my eyes at 3am, moon all set and seeing shooting stars. Offroad camping is rough in some ways, but the beauty of the land makes it worth it. Also morning coffee made from my camp stove.

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Spent all afternoon in these horse troughs. Felt a bit Clint Eastwood.

This is only the third time in the pools today, if you count the almost 3 hour dip in the horse troughs this afternoon. Believe it or not, this is a work trip. Dome was booked for Thanksgiving, so I had to leave. And my LA place is already sublet, which made me homeless for the holidaze. And, I have a ton of work to do for the biz. No worries then, a couple days camping in the Mojave, and the a work/meditation/chillax few days in Death Valley. What you aren't seeing in the photos, is the work I'm doing. This afternoon, I finished something I have been working on all year. I also started on my 2018 goal planning (I pretty much finished my 2017 goals). So in typical Heather, contrarian fashion, I go to the desert and find the oasis. And I go on work vacation to finish/focus on work. I only wish I had brought more coffee. I'm officially out, and I have two more days.

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Dust storm in Death Valley this afternoon. This storm was pretty awesome to drive through. The wind whipped up in the badlands, dark clouds, looked like rain, but just dust for miles and miles. The wind on my skin electrifies me - I feel more alive than ever in a strong wind storm. As I crested the peaks back to Shoshone, water drops hit my windscreen. It does rain the desert. I returned back to the hot springs to catch the sunset au natural in the horse troughs with the wind whipping all around me, the moon rising behind me and the mountains glowing from the dying rays. Bliss this life I have created for myself.

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Humbolt county driftwood in the Mojave. Thanks to my friend Jena who made me these awesome beach collected driftwood mobiles. And I strung up some xmas lights (covered in playa dust) on my pine. With the last rays of the sunset, feeling very elemental - tapped into the power of the ocean - a memory for these sticks. The Mojave air, cool and still. The fire of the sun, waning in the setting warmth, yet cooling burning reflecting off an ivory moon. The earth of rock under my feet, that even in the desert sustains trees and growth. And all around us is space, expansive space, open with possibilities. Here, you reading this now, take a breath. A taste of the mojave in your lungs, in your heart. Here, you are with me under the darkening sky. Isn't it so beautiful, so calm, so refreshing.

Desert reflections

Something inside me is unravelling. The desert is doing its thing - evaporating all the tightness and crap and stress from the past months/year. My last three sleeps (here at the dome) have been deep and full of bliss. I wake up more refreshed and calm than I have in I can't remember. I've spent my days moving boxes, unpacking, sifting, sorting, identifying all the little fixes the dome needs. I play music loud. I keep things silent.

I throw out things that are no longer needed. You never know how wound up you are, until you start unwinding... and the desert (for me) is the best for this. The land, the nature, the sky, the wind, the air, the crunchy rock/sand ground, the spiky cacti, the clouds, OMG the clouds are amazing and food for my soul.

But there is something else here I will have to face, and that is the people that live here, and that I am an outsider from another culture. I can fake the redneck desert rat persona, but I can not fake the local. I did not grow up here.

I ran away from a similar small town to the big city, and here I am back, faced with all the same things, 20+ years later. I wonder what I will learn and how I will change, and how I will inevitably leave my mark on this place that called me here, from the whisper on the wind as I drove my motorcycle down the mountain into the glistening town on the edge of another planet - 29 Palms.

Zombie Lemonade

In 2006 I was at a gig-decompression party in/near the Brewery. I was among friends. There was a face painter going around giving all the women beautiful sparkly face accents. I wanted to be pretty like that and I finally tracked down the make-up artist when he was available.

He asked what I wanted, and I told him that I really liked what he had already painted and to be inspired. He stopped for a moment, paused, looked at my face and my outfit (I was wearing black pirate pants and a men's ruffly tux shirt and boots) then whipped out his brushes. I was excited to see the colors and sparkle and glitter he was creating.

When I looked in the mirror, I saw that half my face was a painted as a skull. Internally, I was like WTF. I was really disappointed. I wanted to be pretty, sparkly, colorful. But all I got was this half face skull. But I said nothing. Other than thanks and went back to the party to make the best of my new face. In typical heathervescent fashion, I choose to own it.

If the make-up artist gives you the only half a skull face at the party, live the undead lifestyle, even if it's the opposite of what you wanted. This was way back before zombies became popular. It was also the same year I started my Zombie Cabaret.

I'd be lying if I said that makeup artist didn't inspire me to do the Zombie Cabaret. So while he failed at making me "pretty" and "ladylike" I got something much more... something I made my own. How many people can say they had a Zombie Cabaret in Los Angeles for 10 years? I know 2 of us.

Lori Lisa Visit

Back in 2008, I bought this haunted shack deep in the Mojave desert. It's like 30 minutes from civilization, unless you count the one bar between 29 and Amboy, where the PRB drafts are like $1.50. If you follow the sandy road all the way out to the pole line, and snake around following the roads with women's names, you'll come upon Lori Lisa.

The original idea was to convert it into a place of respite, or a school for wayward girls. But the truth of the matter, it's too damn hot out there in the summers to do much but lay around in the shade. It's 120 degrees, no joke. The Marines train out here before they go to the middle east. The Mars Rover trained out here before going to Mars. To be honest, the climate kicked my ass.

Now, I rent out my haunted shack for film shoots, or give my friends a Breaking Bad adventure where we have mini-photo shoots. It's my dream that a film company will pay me to blow it up. Or maybe SRL will come down and do a show and blast it on fire. Or maybe someday I will blow it up myself. Anyway, here's a photo from my latest antics out there. Come visit me, bring some cameras, costumes and maybe I'll take you out there to experience it for yourself! xxx

Flawed

I am not infallible. I only pretend. I have created this shell around me to protect my (fecund loamy black) heart. The shell is cracking. The flaws in my persona are showing. Wings protrude. I only pretend to be strong. To be a bad ass. To take care of myself. I had no choice in the matter. I had to become strong. It was become a bad ass or ??? be overpowered? give up the possibility of being who I wanted to be? a possibility I never for one considered. I never had a choice to be soft. To not take (my own) power. But being who I (thought I) wanted to be and who you are, are not the same. I only wanted others to feel free in their expression. I only wanted to be free in my expression. (Free, not push the expression to the extreme.)

O Queen of Angels, I now understand. Here in the magical arms of your asphalt streets, it doesn't matter. You have wiped our slates clean, like after a Catholic confession. We come to you with our dream, our ambitions. We leave the who we were behind, in the street of San Francisco or midwest fields of grain. Here we create who we want to be. Even if that is not who we are. An illusion based in our own reality. Empowered by you. Our hearts are broken. Our hearts are lifted. Our lives changed. We change ourselves through you. We become the self we always dreamed. Our dreams come true. 

And now I am done. I have breathed your air deep into my lungs. Every cell in my body has LAified. And I am ready to change again. I have become who I wanted to be. And it is very satisfying. An achievement in itself. But perhaps that is not who I actually am. A shocking idea. Of all people, have I betrayed myself by being so true to my ideal of myself that I have missed some aspect of my authenticity? We shall see. 

Goodbye, my Queen

I never thought this day would come. Although here it is. So unknown and so clear. These years of understanding, devotion. I have loved no other, as I have loved you. Here I am, heathervescent, one of 4 million, wrapped in your asphalt paved arms, under your vanilla sky.

I have wondered, at times, where I might go, should I leave you. No city in the United States can match your tough elegance, your grit and glamour. Where in the world could I go? West Texas? Rio de Janeiro? The answer: unknown.

I shouldn't be surprised. I've been bored with my life for a bit. I've been asking for, desiring an adventure. Be careful what you wish for right? I'm never careful for what I wish for. It's what my heart desires. An adventure pulls up, a door opens, and I get in. Life is short and we all die. And life is long and has many twists and turns.

This time, you're the Queen of Spain sending me off to the new world. Except you're my Queen, La Dona, and we're already on the edge of the world. Where can I go from here? I have no idea. But I know with the same certainty that lead me into your arms, that I'm going.

The end of a chapter has begun.

A list of emotions

A list of emotions I had last night. I'm all about understanding complex emotions, so when I had a super juicy reaction last night, I sat down in the eye of the storm of my emotions and identified them. Why not post them on my blog for future reference? Because this set of emotions triggered a string of similar ones (and a bunch more) from a few months ago. And I'm actively working on de-threading all this stuff.

Here we go again.... 

1. There is nothing I can do about this.
2. DISAPPOINTMENT UBER ALLES. ANGER. SADNESS. WTF!!?!!
3. I don't want to make another effort.
4. This is totally legit. I want to be accommodating. "NO WORRIES"
   BUT I AM FUCKING PISSED.
5. No, I'm not really. I'm just sad. "Here we go again, just like with the ---- thing."
6. I don't want to make an effort.
7. Trying not to identify with things that are triggering me. Like I'm not worth it .... this whole thread of self-pity, but also laced with the fuck it double-down I have nothing to lose to try again.
8. But then there was that sparkly feeling in R's office and I told her to BRING IT! So I ALSO TRUST IN THE ME OF NOW. 
9. Good luck, bad luck, who the fuck knows.

All this while I am on the dog walk, cheerfully chatting with my neighbors, looking at the moon, breathing in the cool air.

So there. These are all the top level emotions I had roiling. You wanna know where that effervescence comes from? There. 

It's pretty amazing to feel this cocktail of emotions at the same time, and yet, with my meditation practice, to both identify and fully taste the emotion and be able to detach from it, give a name, and be non-judgmental about all these feelings I am both feeling and not feeling.

And in the end, to be kind to myself. Because I trust myself. I trust what I am doing, and good luck, bad luck, who the fuck knows. I'm not in control and I don't want to be, so I'm just gonna have these emotional experiences and watch them, feel them and learn about myself. 

Emotional Aikido

I spent a lot of Sunday morning looking through my feed and equally getting updates on Houston flooding, the protests in SF and Berkeley. But here in LA, the weather is great, I've walked Mr D, talked to my neighbors, gave my landlord (who lives next door to me) a loaf of bread I made for him yesterday, and I'm gearing up for some writing. As I was taking all this in, I was thinking about that Chinese proverb, goes something like, good luck bad luck, who knows - basically saying you never know whether something that seems "good" is going to end up "good" or "bad."

I've been corresponding with a new friend about our shared meandering paths around the warrior ethos - we both studied Aikido, have been exposed to US Military culture, and ended up with a Zen perspective. He wrote:  

"We are drawn to Zen to help accept what we cannot change, but also to focus our power on what we can."

Which caused me to revisit a thought I've had in recent months - as I grapple with my inner conflict for protesting and confrontation (two things I am not normally meek about). I have this feeling like there is maybe something more I should do... that I should want to fight the fight with fighting. But I don't want to fight. The whole aikido attitude is about taking the energy and redirecting it back to a place where the attacker is not able to harm anyone, even himself. But I wonder, how am I able to do that?

From my research writing about trolling, gamergate and online harassment for my Cyber book, I know one of the points of all this emotional roiling is to infect others with these destructive negative emotions.

It's like this scene from Princess Mononoke. 

You see this in trolling online. If one is not careful, the emotion can infect and take you over. And maybe this is where the aikido comes in, but not through physical interaction, but the emotional interactions.

My mantra for the past year or so has been "Calm and Drama free." At first I was focused on reducing the things in my life that caused drama - the things I had control over. That was relatively easy. Then it became clear that no matter how calm and drama free I made *my* life, others would bring drama into it: my upstairs neighbors, clients, normal dramas dealing with people, hey, even I create drama at times. So I worked on techniques to minimize the drama that was created. A big part of that was in not getting hooked by the emotion and create a kind of vaccine against these negative emotions.

Meditation helps a lot with this detachment. You go ahead and feel the emotion, identify it as such, but make no judgment about it. You let it go and flow. Non-identification.

Sometimes I feel like I'm metaphorically smacking a negative emotion down -  someone brings some drama into my circle, I then attempt to "catch" the emotion and pin it to the ground - ikkyu works great. Now that I'm writing this on the ole blog, I think the concepts of tenkan and irimi work with the concept of emotional aikido. You can enter into the emotion, and you can turn away from the emotion so you and your opponent are both facing the direction. In both cases, you want to disarm the emotion so it doesn't hurt you or the attacker.

Irimi takes heart, vulnerability, and courage. I would say this is the emotional technique I am working with most right now. Taking my vulnerable, courageous, electrified, chain-mailed heart to battle for humanity. Entering into their fear with a calmness of my own. 

I remember some times practicing on the mat, back in the Berkeley gym. The level of intimacy of practice at times remains terrifying even in my memory. I wanted to be a warrior of force, but I find my strength these days is that of using my heart. To enter into places no sword can go. I have practiced aikido more years off the mat by now, than I did on.

So maybe in writing this, I've answered my own worry about wanting to do more about the whole "protesting stuff."  For me it's more about the emotional warfare. Instead of the protesting in your face stuff, I'm fighting for the freedom of your heart.

Thanks to my awesome new friend for provoking these introspections. I look forward to our continued conversations. <3.