heathervescent

Borderlands Built

I was pondering upon things as I am wont to do, and I realized that the past few years that I have been doing "way out" stuff on so many levels, is because I've been building my borderlands. I've been going as far out as I could possibly imagine and then I'd go further to see what was beyond. I've been wandering in these borderlands going more and more out there. I've had moments of "wow, I really am way out here" losing touch almost with the places I used to be.

I've ventured far - and now I'm ready to come back to familiar places.

Reminder

This is just a reminder that there are good days and then there are really good days. Today was/is a really good day. Thanks Universe.

Update: Why was today such a good day? Nothing huge happened. No big life changing news. Just the regular stuff. Flexing with changing schedules, working in the morning, driving the convertible on Laurel Canyon, great client meeting, shopping at favorite store in Studio City, meeting up with a friend at Abbot's Habit and good conversation ("The truth simply is, its lies that must be spoken" - Chicken John), great exercise classes at the Y, lovely dog walk, boyfriend comes home and we decide to go out to a smancy dinner at Fogo de Chao, unlimited pao de queijo and meat, home again to awesome dog and best bed in the world.

Extraordinary in the ordinary.

A sense of calm

The past week has been one filled with bliss, peace and satisfaction. It's a strange feeling - as I am usually not satisfied with anything, constantly striving to improve. It's not that I've lost interest in improving myself, the world and living my dream life - I just feel no anxiety or rush associated with it. For the past week - I have been content to be.

All though my day I maintain this calm - and the late afternoon walks with the dog are downright blissful with the beautiful yards, gardens and flowering trees.

I am happy with myself, my life and what I have accomplished. I am focused on where I want to go next, what I want to accomplish and who I want to become. There is time to become that person, do those things and go where I desire. For now, I'm content and happy.

Mercy, Compassion, Forgiveness

"mercy is not receiving punishment that we deserve"

and how would we know what punishment we deserve? (compassion) and whose judgment is the correct one? Isn't it better to learn from the experience (forgiveness) and not interrupt the flow? and what stops the merciful from feeling like they got away with something?

(Here's an interesting blog post about Mercy vs Forgiveness from a Christian point of view)

All of these are ultimately about how you use your energy. Would you rather have your energy get stuck in holding onto petty bullshit (as I remember Bruce Wagner talking about) or using it to change your world? I remind myself that my battle is not here with everyone - but out there. This is merely the playground, the practice field. And that puts everything into a different perspective.

Hope and Practicality

Several years ago, I was exploring the concept of "hope" and how I felt like it may be the worst evil from Pandora's Box. Hope did nothing to change a situation and may stop someone from practical action - and never realizing their dreams.

In my morning web walkabout I found the connection. Hope is the turning point. Hope is seeing the light. Hope is the glimpse of some other possibility. However to realize/manifest the change, you must act. Hope is not an action, it is an attitude adjustment that allows a moment, a flash of energy to get yourself unstuck. Once your attitude has been adjusted, you must take practical action.

Darkworking

I sporadically read Steve Pavlina's excellent blog, so when I was configuring my RSS reader I popped in and caught up. One of his recent posts is on the DARKWORKER and whether they are evil.

As I'm reading this and it hits me - I don't get darkworkers. I understand their motivation and why they do the things they do, but it's not my bag.

Is a darkworker evil? From the perspective of a lightworker or from non-polarized people, you could say yes. From the darkworker’s perspective, there are basically two possibilities.

First, the darkworker might say, “No, I’m not evil. I’m pursuing my own good, which is the highest good there is.” Darkworkers are Machiavellian and expedient. They recognize that running over people is often more efficient than working with them. If you have to treat a human being like a slice of bacon now and then, so be it.

The second possibility is that the darkworker identifies with evil and consciously embraces that role: “I’ve decided to be evil, and I like it.” (See For Love of Evil.) In this case the darkworker identifies with the social consensus about evil and recognizes himself as having those qualities. However, he doesn’t see this as anything bad or problematic. Evil is equated with freedom and power. The darkworker views non-evil people as weak and sometimes stupid. If the darkworker identifies with the role of the villain, it’s because the villain is the smartest character in the game.

Either way the result is the same. The darkworker’s conscience is aligned with self-service as the highest possible good. Physical reality is a playground for the darkworker’s personal pleasure, and other people are merely tools to be used.

I've been used by these darkworkers and it hurts. I do what I do for the good of mankind and those darkworkers have taken my ideas and pimped their own ass not even thanking me for showing them the way. That's why the last and in some ways most important step in getting your heart's desire is to say Thank You. I constantly think about my teachers (they probably don't know how often I think of them) and thank people who have helped me. And I go out of my way helping people and connecting them to people and ideas that help them make their dreams a reality.

My motivation in doing what I do is because I want to improve the world - and the ability for people to achieve their dreams, having their dream life and the courage to do what they are here to do - not cringe in fear to follow their passions. So what about a darkworker applying my methodologies to make their egotistical dreams come true. On a theoretically level I'm down with that, but as darkworkers execute on their self-serving plans it makes me hate this world and want to be gone from it.

It sucks my motivation and gets me second guess the value of my work. I don't want to think that I have to protect myself from these types of people, because that stifles my own creativity and derails my execution.

So what to do? And how do I protect myself and my work from these vampiric darkworkers in the future?

Bruce Returns

Several years ago I went though several months of reading most of  Bruce Chatwin's work. He is one of my favorite authors along with Italio Calvino and Jonathan Carroll. At that time I collected and read most of his books - but not all. A collection of short stories stared it's title at me most mornings. (I have a bookshelf facing my bed in the bedroom) called "What am I doing here?"

I pulled it out the other night and started reading. Immediately I was taken back to the delight of reading his prose. I came across Chatwin's writing just when I decided to make my writing both more non-fiction as well as fiction. The line between truth and reality is often fuzzy perception. I prefer to fuzz the line in the direction of fiction as far as possible while keeping the story activities in the truth. That's why for the past several years I've been walkabouting through intense activities - creating the borderlands. That and the novelty factor.

But there's something about coming back to a place you know well. A place you not only know but love well. That includes the writing of Bruce Chatwin.

My inspiration to travel has returned. I use to feed that wanderlust by traveling to the furthest, exotic, difficult, rugged locations. I've flown into tin shack airports in the south pacific in the middle of two political coups. I've traveled 5 hours over sand dunes to get to a remote beach in the north of Brazil - twice. I've boated up and down the Nile, picking through Eqyptian Temples and hiking into the pyramids, not to mention navigating haggling for belly dancing costumes in the largest bazaar in Turkey.

But those locations are no longer foreign. The most dangerous and exotic small locations in the world are right here in our backyard - it is a small town America.

This first occurred to me when I went to a small town outside of Reno to demolish some cars. Let, me take that back. This idea first occurred to me in 1996 while driving the gravel roads in fecund Iowa summer. It was a comparison of the fields, forests and plains of the midwest to the savanna of Africa. The only reason we don't think the things around us are exotic is because they are so familiar.

That is why I think the small town is a most exotic place. If you've ever lived in a small town - it's freaking hard to make a living. It's much harder to make a living in Cedar Falls, Iowa than New York City. Hard to believe, but true.

Anyway, I've meandered. My point is that in my travel revival due to Chatwin's wonderful writing I've restarting my exotic travels - to the most exotic locations on earth - small town America.

a crazy thought // the end of an era

I had an unusual sense of relaxation and contentment yesterday. Even as I drove through traffic and had difficult discussions - I felt - content. Satisfied. I looked down at the floor of my metaphorical stage and saw the bucket of balls I usually juggle. They beckoned to me to pick them up and show off - if only to myself.

But I didn't want to juggle them. I was happy with the few balls I had in the air. And I was happy with the balls in the bucket. (I haz a big buket.)

Then I thought, maybe I won't do as much and keep a relaxed and leisurely pace. Then I sat down and wrote out my dream life requirements - which were quite different from what I thought they would be. I care less about achievement than execution, but I want to leave my mark and make my contribution to our mutual self-actualization and evolution.

I do not want to ride the plow through the ocean waves.

This thought dovetails the arrival of my next intimate collaborator - a tricked out Thinkpad T61 that replaces my famous T42 (who was on the cover of the LA Times with me) that I've had for almost 5 years. I already see the emergence of one of my most secret and yet visible personas with T61. It's quite surprising it has not shown it's face before, but the time is now. I don't expect the gun wielding culture jamming explosive fire making hbomb will go away, but it's time to let her run free in the desert and get down to some serious work here in the city.

The Kindness of Strangers

Earlier today I was irritated. My web walkabout caused me to go down the path of thinking "now why didn't I do that?" when I could have easily done these same things a year or more ago. The answer to that question is "I didn't want to do those things." I must remember that just because I see the need for something doesn't mean that I have to do it. It's ok to pass up the idea for another one I am passionate about. But I fall back into stupid human mode and start questioning myself and that's a slippery slope leading to my favorite existential questions. I walked outside and the sky brightened my day for a moment and then it was the LA traffic. Late to a meeting. Circling the block in the heat, sun in my eyes. No parking. Film crews taking up the spaces. The place was packed. There were people waiting for a table - all the things I hate. My mood went back into a nosespin. I went inside looking for my partner, no sign. A friendly guy asked me how I was doing, and I could not pretend to be the cheerful effervescent heather. I believe in answering the question "how are you?" truthfully of the moment. And at that moment, I was fucking irritated at being alive. So I said as much, as detached and not directed my irritation at the nice man asking me. He asked why? and I said something like, it's one of those days... he took it in stride and I went outside to wait for a table.

I put my name in for a table. And tried to let it all go as I leaned on a signpost looking at the sky. Not thinking of anything. Nothing mattered. Looking at the black painted building with swirling yellow logo. Looking at the Hollywood Hills. Thinking of the weekend and my irritations coming  back. My phone ringed and it was a client. I was happy for the distraction. I'm really happy with my current clients. The minor drama scared away my own irritation for a moment. Then my lunch partner pulled up. Then our table was ready, and then it was into the zone of the meeting - irritation retreating again.

After lunch the nice man who asked me how I was came out with a red velvet cupcake - one of my favorites - and hoped that my day turned around. By that point, it had, and him giving me the cupcake was the icing on the cake.

It's so easy to give kindness to strangers. And sometimes, it makes all their difference.

Desert Diamond

I am sitting here thinking about the red strata mountains. Feeling the wind from my open window. The delight as I speed along the two lane crumbling pavement. Sand dunes off to the left. I remember the Jerky stand at the Tecopa turn off. I stopped and talked with the guy running the stand. He was a nice man and it was a pleasure to stop. I love stopping at small stands along the road. That must be the Midwesterner in me.

I'm thinking about other desert driving trips. I was surprised at how green and lush the Tucson desert was compared to my Mojave. I wondered again, what is it about the desert that appeals so much to me. Partly the wide open spaces. Have I forgotten the forests? The fields of golden grain? Why do I love so much the piles of rocks?

As I was driving through the Sedona red rocks, I looked at the crumbling plateaus. I thought about something someone told me. Something about a 16 year unveiling and I thought of the image of me as a plateau crumbling away to unveil what I am, that is hidden so far to the world.

1300 mile highlights

Eight hundred miles in the past three days. (A total of 1300 in the past week.) Three states. Many states of mind. Much stimulation of the brain. Meeting new people. Getting to know acquaintances better. There are not enough words in my exhausted brain to even begin describing all that transpired the past seven days. I returned to Los Angeles a few hours ago - a car full of packages and a bit more worn for the wear. Both my fog lights were blown out Friday night after hitting a raccoon just outside of Sedona and a rabbit about 30 minutes south of the Hoover Dam.

I will try to pull out some snippets from my memory.

Most recently I returned from Death Valley this afternoon after a sleepless night filled with stars and conversations. A friend brought up two concepts I realized during our conversing I don't really know or use: Mercy and Happiness. I am not motivated to live my life with Happiness in mind. I have other emotions that motivate me. And about Mercy, well, it never even occurred to me. I don't think I even know what Mercy is. I generally wield the ax of justice and it definitely severs relationships. So this concept of pondering mercy and how to be more merciful, is intriguing and something I will meditate on - and perhaps practice.

Hiking at dusk in Sedona. I wanted to go to a magical place and instead the trail I chose went along an Indian resort. I was irritated and frustrated. It was getting dark, and it was not my idea at all to drive 5 hours to Sedona only to be surrounded by the sounds of cars and air conditioning and civilization when I was supposed to be in a magical place. I guess the Indians need to make a living too.

When I stopped to catch my breath on the trail at the twisted juniper right where the sign was posted "You are on camera, so don't jump the fence you stinky hikers" complete with industrial lights destroying the natural darkness. I spied a ledge - right in the middle of the light. I had a flash of inspiration and went straight to the spot - straight in the middle of the spotlight under the surveillance cameras and proceeded to meditate upon being in the spotlight. And so, instead of fighting my self about NOT being in the spotlight because that's not where I thought I wanted to be, I understood why I need to be in the spotlight because that is really where I must be. Inner conflict resolved.

I can't even begin to express how much the conference I attended in Tucson effected me. Over the next few days I'll try to write up some notes. I attended the conference to learn more about what science is doing around the study of understanding and explaining consciousness and the human brain. I left with the beginnings of a new language and awe for ourselves and awe for science. I plan to explore my interest in this subject more and more in the coming years.

I love driving in the desert at night. I put the top down and looked at the stars, felt the wind in my face as I drove back from the official conference dinner Thursday night at the Desert Museum. I put on Orbital Blue Album and took in the wind, driving fast and taking the curves. I am happiest at the wheel of my car, alone on a dark two lane twisty highway. My car is an extension of my body - I feel the vibrations of my tires on the road through my stick and wheel. I listen to the motor as I increase RPMs and slow down, shifting accordingly for speed or coast.

I wondered, why does this make me so happy? To be alone, a bullet speeding along. But then I stop thinking and enjoy the ride. This is truly something I love.

I felt the same way when I came upon the Hoover dam past midnight. I had spent hours driving through Arizona. Napoleon Hill was speaking to me in those midnight hours (and when the rabbit met her death under my wheel). I passed through the check point and then was upon the dam. A huge bright lit construction was being built above me. I was in awe at modern engineering. I slowed and looked at the new bridge. It was beautiful and massive.

A moment later I crested a hill and a city of twinkling lights unfolded below me. It was beautiful. And for once in my life I saw the beauty of Las Vegas. I found my way to the Strip and a posh hotel filled with friends. A strong difference of my last days in the desert.

There are many more stories to write. Many more things I want to share with you - my anonymous readers. But tonight I sleep. For tomorrow another adventure begins and I must tend to my dreams.

Enlightenment

"If you can go ten minutes without a conditioned reaction, then you are illuminated".
- A Sufi saying via Ninja Sorcery Site

That reminds me something that Noah Levine said at his meditation class this week (which I attended). It went along the line of "peace might be boring. everyone wants to think that being at peace is blissful - but it might be boring. we learn tolerance. and that could be a neutral feeling."

My Friend, Reality

The line between fact and fiction is blurry. How many stories am I telling, do I participate in - at this one moment? So many. I can barely keep up with the activities of all my personalities.

I spent the weekend reading fiction by Jeffrey Ford about his Mrs Charbuque. I accept her eccentric characteristics as if she really existed. Requesting a portrait by a painter who has and will never see her? Oh it's so cliche - reality is stranger than fiction - as a writer you often have to water down reality for the masses to exist the possibility. But what about when you create possibilities and they emerge dripping wet, even more stranger than fiction that you could have never thought? I guess that's your children for you.

Anyway, that is just to say that people and things in my life are stranger than fiction - and that tends to skew my world view. But that's ok, cause I prefer to have a skewed view on this world - and it's really no more skewed than anyone else's, just in a different direction.

Dreaming the best

What I like in an event/activity

• something captivating - new, novel, exciting
• interesting people - to look at, to talk to, to learn from
• creative, passionate, authentic
• beautiful location, connecting
• subcultural

The way to the mainstream is by any subculture. Once in the mainstream, that subculture....

I'm really excited about my upcoming trip to Tuscan Arizona. I'm going to the Science of Consciousness Conference. Chicken John gave me the lowdown on the best place to stay and one of my friends from the Bay Area is going to be there. I'm leaving town next Sunday and will drive through the desert I love. Not quite passing my new rachcita, but dreaming of it and which possibilities to manifest first. Then on my way back I've detour through Amargosa to visit another dream come true. Ah, the desert, I can already feel your refreshment.

Not Feeling Enlightened

A few months ago I had a dream where I was cleaning out these long hollow pipes in my garage. There were a lot of them and they were stuffed with grease, lint, dead insect carcasses. Just the usual delightful stuff you find in your garage. I realized that the dream was telling me that it's time to clean out all the reminding bits of junk.

I've been surrounded by the dust and dirt of my own Karma and I'm getting dirty cleaning it out. It's frustrating sometimes.

All the while I have been inhaling several books. I finished Jonathan's Narcisa - Our Lady of Ashes (it's not publicly available yet). And then straight on to Dharma Punx by Noah Levine. Both talk about addiction, doing crazy shit and in the case of Levine's Dharma Punx, a path of service and redemption. That's Jonathan's story too. I remember talking with a friend about AA and being intrigued at the 12 steps and AA support. It sounded a lot like the stuff I have learned on my own spiritual path. In some ways I wish my path had taken me down and up into the AA realm. The work is hard stuff, but the path has already been laid out.

Anyway, so here I am in my own pile of shit, sorting and sifting, cleaning and attempting to replace mechanisms and processes that have built up over 30 years. I've done the processes before, but it's on bigger, smaller, trickier, twistier stuff.

Would I want it any other way? This is what I've chosen.

Differentiation

"Care for nothing in yourself but what you feel exists nowhere else."

I've been pondering this part of my favorite phrase. Does it mean, if someone else can do something better than me, I stop? Does it mean, I stop when someone does things that I also do? What if they suck at what I do? What if they are better than me? At what point is the line drawn? Do I continue to do those things that others do, but care nothing about what I am doing?

These questions don't matter if this one is answered: Am I passionate about it?

And the dreams came true

I recently went to a workshop where the focus was on how to get your heart's desire and manifesting your dreams. I had leave after 30 minutes of it because I realized that I no longer needed to learn how to have my heart's desire. (I wrote my process for doing this in 2005.) Instead of sitting in a conference center for 2 days, writing down my dreams and how I might go about realizing them, I went out and did it.

That was the trip to Salvation Mountain.

That morning, before I went to the workshop, I stopped at drugstore to buy a toothbrush (I had forgotten to pack mine.) At the checkout counter were these packs of green M&Ms specially marketed for Valentines Day (which was over). I realized that here was the manifestation of one of my childhood dreams. You see, the green M&M's were always my favorite - and it was my dream to have a package of only green m&m's. Here it is - almost 30 years later - my dream come true. So I bought the package.

Checkmark: childhood dream come true.

Which made me start thinking - what happens when all your dreams come true? Is that life Bo-ring? Do you dream more dreams? What happens when you can have anything you dream? It sounds like a magical place to be. To conjure up whatever I want. And yet, that's the position I'm in right now. So what do I want? More bigger dreams? More harder challenges? More proving grounds?

There are always more dreams. For me at least. There will be challenges associated with those dreams. And I've just jumped my most recent hurdle (thank you to my ruthless ego). I've proved myself. I can make all my dreams a reality.

So what is beyond dreams?  *** *******

---

ps. and don't go thinking that all these dreams will be destroyed. I have already had all my dreams destroyed. That was my first experience with dreams. It was destroyed dreams that would never come true. And then there was the time where all my dreams came true, but then my dreams changed.

My New Favorite Blog - The Scabvendor

So my new favorite blog is starting to get some traction. It's by Jonathan Shaw - who could be called the "father" of modern tattooing. (Disclaimer, JS is one of my clients.) He's pretty much the guy who broke tattooing into the mainstream and tattooed a bunch of celebrities. He's also the inspiration/real character behind Captain Jack - from Pirates of the Caribbean.

Over the past 3 months, I've worked with Jonathan and his assistant Alessandra on all the standard things I do: branding and online marketing specifically for his upcoming book about his crack-whore girlfriend from Rio de Janeiro.

Now, anyone who knows me, knows that I have a passion for Brazil and the Brazilian life. I won't go into my several life changing experiences I had within her borders, but needless to say, she is probably my favorite country in the world. Brazil - she is full of possibilities.

Anyway, I digress - Jonathan is in Rio right now, with Narcisa - his girlfriend (whom the book is about) and he's writing about his day to day experiences. It's not just the day to day, but the pieces of enlightenment hidden between the cracks of the mundane. Take this for example:

I’m out on the street dropping her off later and I look around and see the people running amok like it’s the goddamn Mardi Gras, my people, ignorant little replicas of Narcisa with her tv eyes and childlike mind and it hits me, it’s not just her, it’s the world, it’s Brazil, a whole mind-warped brainwashed culture, a nation of whores and beggers and petty thieves and crooked liars and pipe dreaming slaves, with or without the crack habit, its all the same ratty fairy tale happy ending mind of slavery to ego and self and the belief in eternal satisfaction at the end of a magic consumer wand or a machine gun or a beer can or crack pipe or a polititions promise or a whirlwind of romantic love boat wedding chapel angel cake whiter than white flouride toothpaste smiles and shit eating grins on skulls that will soon be rotting in the ground no matter fucking what. Whatever whatever, so maybe Narcisa’s right to just burn it at both ends like she does and do the best she can to live as intensely and dangerously as possible and so what if she fucking dies, at least she provided me the inspiration to write a fucking book cuz she is that interesting and authentic and beautiful and that’s more than I can say about 99.999999 percent of the fucking human race.

It's about authenticity. It's about being real. And sometimes that authenticity is too much for people - and goes against the grain of "good morals". But it reminds me of something I used to think about. And I was reminded of this when watching Bjork's video on Declare Independence. If the most authentic thing for you to do was to do drugs - then why should anyone stop you from it. If that is your most authentic self - then you should do that. And screw anyone who should "intervene".

And, although I have not met Narcisa, I like to dream that she is that person.

Making Room, Getting unstuck

I've gotten stuck in a role - probably by my own making. My community validated self-appropriated title as "LA Tech Maven + Connector + Visionary" has got me stuck. I feel like a mom who doesn't like who her children are becoming and doesn't like who they are hanging out with. My passion for promoting LA tech has fizzled. I've been trying to rally myself and get excited because of all people here, I should be able to take this to the next level - and that was my dream. I am also not a quitter. I also don't shy from competition. But, I also don't do something that has no more passion for me.

There are too many cooks in the kitchen and I don't like the cooks or what is getting cooked up. I wonder, is it too hot for me to handle? Can I stand the pressure? Why not just bulldog my way through? If I had the passion and drive, yes, but the passion is gone.

Where and when did that passion go?

• It left when I got pushed out of BarcampLA leadership (yes, that story has not been publicly told) and those leaders became hypocritical.
• It left when all these tech events exploded on the scene and no one was coordinating w/ each other.
• It left when throwing a tech event became a business.
• It left when LA events were replications of SV events.
• It left when Silicon Valley came to LA looking for a red carpet stroke my ego circle jerk.

I have big big dream. I dream of a connected LA Tech community. But right now it's like a 12 course meal being prepared by 12 different chefs; competing, jostling to hit the same target market. It's a land grab, mad rush to create your event, your brand and make a stake. Ugh. Sorry, that kind of activity make me want to puke. I can't help but remember Gloria's words about how the universe is abundant. I agree with her.

I've been angsting over what I want to do for months. What is best for the community? For my dreams?  There is no good answer. And bottom line, I don't like some of the personalities in the mix. (And I'm not one of these people who dislikes people for no reason - I have to have reasons to not like you otherwise I keep giving you chances.)

I am going to take a break. Work on my metaphorical broken watches or lamps. I am going to focus on the things that have my passion - like my new desert ranch, learning to professionally stunt car drive, building my company - The Purple Tornado, and helping my clients take their companies to the next level.

I'm not leaving, nor giving up. I'm watching you LA Tech Community (and community leaders). Watching everything. And I'll keep doing what I do, to make it stay real - to make you stay real - and ultimately for us all to evolve into something bigger than ourselves.

People do Change

We die to each other daily. What we know of other people is only our memory of the moments during which we knew them. And they have changed since then. To pretend that they and we are the same is a useful and convenient social convention which must sometimes be broken. We must also remember that at every meeting we are meeting a stranger."
- T. S. Eliot's _The Cocktail Party_

and

"Yes people often change, but memories of people can remain."
- The Kinks

Path to Tao

"Path to Tao"

Seek Knowledge to Strengthen Will

Strengthen Will to Transcend Your Boundaries

Transcend Your Boundaries to See Non-Locally

See Non-Locally to Learn about Yourself

Learn about Yourself to Unlearn Yourself

Unlearn Yourself to Widen Your Senses

Widen Your Senses to Find Self

Find Self  to Dissolve Self

Dissolve Self to Find the Tao

- Tatsuo Hirano

Countdown to Blastoff

So every year I take the 30 days between Jan 1 and 30 to finalize my goals, plans, ideas to execute and kick ass on. You see Jan 30 is my birthday, and this year, I am turning my birthday into the Official Kick Ass day. It's the day to celebrate your ass-kickedness (or at least, that is what I am going to do on that day.)

I'd also like to take this moment to invite you to celebrate the day of ass-kickeningness, although a few days later - on February 2nd. I don't really have time or inclination to plan an extravagant birthday party (not like the naked sushi or flaming cake @ Ground Kontrol). This year I am going to perform a little dance on stage and eat cake at my favorite dance club - Bootie LA.

So come along if you are so inclined. I won't be wearing a banana suit. ;)

Not so Rainy Morning

I've been watching a lot of westerns recently. Last week I saw The Good, the bad and the Ugly. I had never seen early Clint Eastwood and I loved this movie. The silent dialog. The long sweeping panoramas. Character development. Journey adventure. It reminded me of Sargasso Manuscript, where one story leads into another. Double crossing, impeccability. 

Last night I saw Unforgiven. More sweeping views of the plains. Blood sunsets, dusty towns. It made me miss the midwest. Fields and forests, rivers and mountains. I dream of my farm, my ranch in the sierras. I ran into Mike Jones from Userplane at Twiistup and we were talking about consulting. One of my goals of consulting is to make enough to buy my ranch and have goats.  Three hours from LA, on a plateau overlooking the mojave I will sit on my porch and watch the mountains, the clouds and desert. I will disappear into the mountains to explore and discover. My workspace will be filled with shop tools, a kiln, plasma cutter, welder and materials.

At that point, perhaps I will be ripe enough to produce art. The stories with have inspired me with expression.

Poetry

Last night as I was slipping off into sleep, I heard a word, plaintive on the breath, a tiny voice saying hello, remember me, my passion, my soul, you used to care, you used to play, you used to feel, you used to......

I said the word aloud. I remembered my passion with words. I remembered the feelings, the unfathomable expressions that somehow got captured in letters and stanzas. I remembered the muse, the architecture, the foundations and free-form. I remembered the discussions about the your death, your revival in rap and your fractal patterns in free verse. You were an old love of mine. You have gone neglected, I admit. But I do not know, when I will pay attention to you again. However, for the moment, I remember the sweet goblin fruit and the sun and the interplay of magic with words and Iowa landscapes and meanings that reveal themselves eventually or not.

Respect for the Silthery things

It was a dream. There were lots of teeth. Sharks, fangs, things coming at me. Ready to devour me. I was not terrified. A friend and I went walking through the valley of the slithery things. They were peacefully sleeping. Our walking did not disturb them. I was not disgusted. We were not afraid. We realized that they have every right to be here as we.

Just as everything has every right to be here. It is not my job to slaughter the slithery things. In fact, as I walked through them, I felt affection, love for them. I no longer fear them. 

What do I fake?

Being authentic is probably the most critically important thing to me. So when I pondered the question "What do I fake?" I was terrified what I might answer, lest I find a chink in my authenticity and not walk the talk.

However, it took me a mere moment to answer it. I fake circular breathing.

I've got a couple didjideroos and can make some pretty fun sounds with them, but when it comes to circular breathing, I fake it. In fact, as much as I want to actually be able to play the didj, I'm really just a faker player. I pull it out as a fun toy, pipe some sounds on it. It's my "hey I can play an instrument, instrument." And that saddens me, because I really think it is an awesome instrument and I really wish I knew how to play for reals. I know how to solve the problem - just practice. If I want to really get serious I'd take a few lessons. But it's always on the back burner.

Asking myself this question made me wonder what other people fake. Since authenticity is so important to me, I would be fascinated to know what you fake (and why). Would you answer this question on your own blog?

What do you fake?

Being my own Hero

When I first moved to LA, I had no plans. I didn't have a job. I didn't know anyone. I had a 1 month sublet in Venice. I woke up one morning, packed the car and drove to LA. The first morning of my new life, I stared at my white board. It was blank.

I remember sitting in that house. I had no expectations. Mind like water. I was listening to one particular grateful dead album at the time. I fell in love with Franklin's Tower. Especially the sentiment "if you plant ice, you're gonna harvest wind." I woke up with those words in my head yesterday and dug out the CD.

As I listen to the smooth caressing music, the interplay between instruments, I remember that time. My love affair with Los Angeles. The possibilities. Discovering the contradictions. Finding the hidden gems. The kernel of authenticity under the props. That was what delighted me. That was what kept me in Los Angeles. That was the LA I fell in love with.

I remember being ruthless in Berkeley. Standing on my redwood deck. Watching the sunset into the San Francisco Bay. House hidden between 10ft hedges. I'd gaze into the Mizrach skyscape and practice martial arts. Focusing on my dreams. Plucking them from the wetness of the unknown and making them a reality. Jumping into the possibilities.

When I was in Cambria this weekend I walked along the tidepool beach cliffs. The rocks had been worn away and I jumped from slick seaweed covered rock to another while the waves crashed nearby. I'd venture out on the long tendrils of rock and get caught in a dead end. It was leap of faith across a wide churning channel onto slicker rock or backtracking. I chose to backtrack - there was no need to make a leap of faith on this solo excursion. I wondered if the backtracking was worth the journey. In the end I decided it was, because it's more about the trip than the destination.

 

--

"Without love in the dream, it will never come true."
- The Grateful Dead
--

"I have already given over to the power that rules my fate..."
"I fear nothing, so I will remember myself."
   - Silvio Manuel

Culture Shock

I should have known better and not gone at all. I just attempted to go to Drinks 2.0 Developer night - yet another geek event here in LA. But it was only 15 minutes from my house, a bunch of my friends had RSVPed and the boyf actually wanted to go.

I've had a lot of concerns about the LA tech community explosion and some blew up on me tonight. One, I really should have known better than go after spending 4 days of awesomeness with the closest group of people I've ever found in my entire life. Cutting lose and being the ultimate expression of heathervescent (minus the fire) with 100 people at the same caliber of creative expression is a hard act to follow. I've been having culture shock just getting back into the grind. Then there's the 2 week cold I've been fighting, culminating with my throat as raw as it's ever been. Then there was the questioning of my newest avatar which I can't really write about because she's secret. That's a lot in itself, without my other topic specific reservations.

I know I should be happy about all the events springing up. I know I should be happy about the people taking initiative organizing things for the community. I know I should be happy about the community growing. I know I should be happy about that LA Times article. It's all validation of my dream. It's success. And it's that's the case, why am I all tore up? Why do I hate everything I have worked for? Why do I feel like it was all for nothing. Why am I not celebrating my awesomeness and pimping up my ego for TOTAL LA TECH DOMINATION?

*sigh*

I've analyzed this to no end - and I will probably keep analyzing because I'm just not satisfied with my answers. Maybe I'm jealous? I really wish it was that simple. That would be a great answer and then I'd just let time do it's healing, or I could strike back, cause we all know "business is not about being nice." But I'm not jealous.

Am I mad because I "should have been doing those type of events?" Those types of events being ones where I make money or pimp my company. I'm sorry, I'm not interested in selling out the community I spent years building. I feel very protective, because I spent so much time creating space for it to grow. I watched it to see what it needed, to know where it wanted to grow and tried to give it that.

Maybe I'm burned out. I've been doing this for almost two years - and as anyone who knows me, I don't do anything half-assed. Look at my results, I got people to pay attention to LA's tech community. LA - a city of glitz and Hollywood and smoozing and swankiness and deals and movies and blah blah blah. And LA, what did you in return? I wanted to make something real, something that wasn't all slick and polished. I wanted to make something that was real, authentic in a city where you're always talking up the next thing.

And that's what you did. You took it and made it slick. You talked it up. You got everyone's attention. It's probably going to be as disgusting as the tech scene in Silicon Valley.

Maybe I'm not satisfied with my results. Maybe the results aren't what I expected. And when it's a community of volunteers, it's not like you can fire anyone. And who am I to know what's best anyway. Who put me in charge? I did. (Well, I do remember an email with the BarcampLA1 organizers who said there needed to be a benevolent commander and I might as well be it.)

It's because I don't like to do what other people do. I want to innovate. I don't copy. I'll borrow and steal ideas, and I'll improve upon them. Why shouldn't other do that with my ideas? The voice inside says I should take it as flattery that I have inspired people. And logically I do. I mean, that's what I want - I want people to follow their dreams, their passions. But don't follow mine. Don't copy me.

Which leads me to _my_ dreams and passions. What _am_ I passionate about? What gets me going? What excites me? Being authentic. Re-defining. Trying new things. Constant invention. Never satisfied. Un-categorizical. Culture-jamming. Pushing the envelope. I just happen to be very good at organizing groups of people. And I happen to have a lot of experience building technology products. Technology was a passion of mine. Los Angeles was a passion of mine. Where has that passion gone? And if it's gone, then there is no point to continuing down that path - no matter how many others are beating down it. No matter how many people tell me what they think I should be doing.

If it's not a path with heart, I might as well shoot myself now.

A Story on Firestarting

I occasionally attend a multi-day gathering with friends at an old homesteader cabin in the Mojave. The area is desolate, and for one weekend we bring in generators and DJ equipment, a stage and about 80 people camp, party and generally have a good time. We shoot guns at the private range and generally engage in standard desert activities: eating, drinking, esoteric conversations and taking in the natural beauty of the desert. At night it is cold, so we have fires - inevitably started by yours truly.

In this particular weekend, it was unseasonably cold and as the sun set, everyone was gathered in and around the cabin. It was crammed in there while no one was paying attention to the cold desert beauty at dusk. So I went outside to start a fire. At first, it was just me and Sam, and a friend or two stopping by. We chucked more wood into it and really got it going. Then others came out and started adding wood and pretty soon there were a lot of people by the fire. The fire was going really well and people were enjoying adding wood and taking care of it. Since there were 2 other fire pit possibilities and plenty of wood, I moved onto start another fire in another location.

Same story as the first one. At first it was me and Sam (my firestarting partner) stacking the wood, the newspaper, twigs and lighting the match in several locations. We always get the fire started on the first try. Again, we were alone with the fire, but slowly folks moved from the first fire and others from the cabin came out to be around the second fire. It was closer to the stage and dance area so people would stop by to warm up between dancing and wandering.

The same thing happened for the third fire. At that point I would occasionally need to add wood to the previous other fires.

I feel like that's what happened here in LA Tech. There are tons of people around adding fuel to the fire, chucking on their own pieces of wood. Making a fire bigger and even starting their own. The fires are beautiful and roiling. It's very hot and going quite nicely.

Recap 2007: A Year of Pimping and Promoting

I knew 2006 was going to be a hard year to follow. I didn't even try to come up with a goal as big as "to kick ass" for 2007, because I thought there was no way I could even come close. Instead 2007 was the year of 007- double triangle - the Jesus Year.

My goals were to 1) find my reason for existence; 2) pimp and promote; 3) simplify; and 4) create. At the bottom of list in my 2007 guidebook I found this in my own handwriting: "Rally myself into an unstoppable brand." I find that humorous. My only specific goal was to spend 40 days in the desert, because hey - it's the Jesus year, right? I didn't hit that one. I just couldn't take myself away from my projects for 40 days. So how did I do? Pretty awesome actually. Specifics after the jump.

More Thoughts

What a strange day yesterday was. Woke up in R's gorgeous house. Being in R's house was so comfortable, it felt like home. More home than the place I inhabit in Hollywood. Packed up and headed to San Mateo for breakfast date. "I was an asshole the last time we met here." I've forgotten those times. I've acquired the ability to drop/ignore/neutralize the negativity of past interactions - to remember only the abstract affection.

Then I was on my old commute freeways, driving it LA style - the way I always drove. "Tires kissing several highways". Threading the needle. Remembering 10 years of driving these roads, looking at how things had changed - and yet stayed the same. (So cliche for a reason.)

Cell phone talking speeding across the San Mateo bridge. Three full lanes both ways. So many nights I took this home. Engraved neural pathways, body never forgets. I allowed myself to go on an old autopilot in an upgraded plane.

Then the central valley and brainstorming with Chicken John. He was headed back to SF, while I was going the opposite direction. Fate caused a pause in our travels for a cup of conversation in Santa Nella. We talked about shows, tours, communities, sortition, technology. He talked about exit strategies and death, I told him of my stair stepped bell-curve, a way to trick "death"; he pointed out the larger fractal picture. Death, ending, exit strategy is always there. That reminded me of the Void to Full (and vice versa) polarity. Something can not become full without first being emptied. We walked dammit in the parking lot. And then he went north, while I went south.

I hit the bad traffic and pulled out of the mainstream - took a side road. But a quick stop caused another surprise. I ran into Uwe and Ji - old colleagues from iAmaze/AOL days. They were on their way to LA. I tipped them about my secret route and told them to call me when they got to Hollywood. Then I was in the desolate lands. 33. Through orchards and oil wells. Remembering the last time I took this road. I was taking Lady Knight to LA. It was my first big solo motorcycle trip. In August, it was a hot dusty quasi-desert - desolate is not a word to describe what the landscape was.

All this way I am listening to Jim Collin's Good to Great. 10 hours of instruction, revelation, understanding.

It's almost too much to take in. Data swirling into the tornado from different areas: Open Space Technology. The Shocking News. Jim Collins. Chicken John. My Obsessions. Possibilities. Revelations.

I am exhausted. I sit at the center with my tea set. White linen tablecloth. Tea pot, milk, sugar on hand-crocheted doilies. The winds of possibilities build the tornado stronger and stronger, my calm in the center, calmer and calmer.

I was distracted. I was knocked off course. I lost faith. I questioned myself. But I have returned. You can not know order, without getting swept into the chaos. You can not create, without tasting the destruction. You can not know your own strength, without doubting it. You can not move through fear, without being intimate with it. You can not do the impossible, without questioning whether it is possible.

The mortar between the bricks. // The glue that dries clear.
I have plowed the sea.
That scene in one of the Sargasso Bronte romance.
An eternal golden braid.
yes, and...
  "In the process i hope i become irrelevant"
Leave no trace.
The journey is the destination.

It's not about the messed up ball of yarn at the beginning; or the perfectly coiled yarn at the end. It's in the unwinding. And then in what you make of the yarn. In that, the yarn is unchanged.

"The geese in the sky have no desire to leave a shadow across the lake. The lake has no desire to receive it."
- A Zen Koan

SF Thoughts

I've been San Francisco for the past few days. It's the first time since I left that I haven't had weird twangs from my past life. I've started to make new memories. I'm staying at one of my oldest friends and her house is so comfortable, I feel at home. The first night, I rolled over half expecting to find S and was surprised not to.

I've really enjoyed the brisk mornings and my commute up 19th Ave through the Park, watching the two orange horns of the Golden Gate appear behind the hills of green. Then it's just historic buildings and the bay and a room full of people with interesting activities, learnings from very many diverse backgrounds.

I had some surprising news last night. Shocking in fact, because it hit me like a baseball bat out of left field and knocked my emotions into a pulpy bloody mess. News that makes everything else in my life so small, my recent angsts so petty. The only reassurance I have is that possibilities I know will never exist in this limited reality, must exist in another. It's a second golden ticket from the universe. And the pain and payment for this one is much greater. "The broken mayonnaise jar on the white kitchen floor." A hard reminder that every moment counts. Every infinite moment in the actual past or future. I will not grieve yet. Not for the future that can not be or lost moments of the past. There are moments now - today. And if I am aware, I can make each moment last for infinity.

There is a trick in there. But here, on this longest, darkest night of the year, I can't find it. I have found the faith to be what I am and had it shattered in the same day. That makes my faith stronger and makes me hate it - the strength binding me. It makes the drive for me to be what I am even stronger. That is trick in this ticket. The shattering of what will never be. And because it will never be, I must become what I am. No more hiding in the curtains.

2008 Thoughts

It's December and you know what that means in Heatherland? Time to map out my "goals" for 2008. The past couple years my goals have more been topics for pondering. 2007 was easy - it was the Jesus year because I turned 33. I was fretting a couple months ago that I wasn't going to make the 1 specific goal I made this year - my 40 days in the desert and was beating myself up about it, when I realized, hey - I can still do that. I'll give myself another year to do it. In fact, 2008 is 2007 Version 2.0.

The biggest thing I've gotten out of 2007 was my complete and utter success with Pimping and Promoting. Prior to this year, most of the projects I've produced, created or seriously participated in, I have under promoted. Kept secret for the most part. Hidden, underground, invited only a very select few to participate. That changed in 2007. I started pimping out my friends who kick ass, I pimped events I produced and most of all, I didn't feel like I was selling out or being a slimy marketing person with my pimping.

Prior to 2007, I never mentioned the geek stuff I did in LA on my blog, barely mentioned a geek dinner - and now I'd like to think that some of the LA geek event explosion has to do with my raising the flag of awareness of the geek things I did/do. I know I've inspired many of the tech events in LA. I can't specifically tie that back to my goal to pimp and promote this year, but I'd like to think it effected/created it. If I was more egotistical I'd say, "I created this renaissance!" but I know it's been created by all the participants, I've just been the primer iter parus.

So now, 2008, I'm taking 2007 thoughts to the next level. I'm meditating on the concept of "pimping the bellcurve" aka taking it mainstream. Taking my projects, clients, ideas, friends and most of all - myself - to horror of horrors - the mainstream.

This terrifies me. But I remember I felt terrified this same way when I decided chose to work on pimping this year. It's no big deal to talk about all the cool stuff I'm doing, the cool projects I know about and how cool my friends are that kick ass, doing awesome stuff.

Is the world ready for heathervescent, aka hbomb aka heather schlegel aka my other monikers? Hell yes. The world has been waiting, goading, pushing me, I think I'm just finally getting the balls to come on stage.

Rising to the front

I've recently become obsessed with Gwen Stefani. I've got the beat of Hollaback Girl tattoed in my brain, mostly because of DJ Schmoli and A+D's mashups and the three performances I've produced with Gwen mashups: The Original Hollaback Thriller, Hollaback Thriller Redux, and Hollaback Headhunter.

I was often surprised to find out a song I liked and heard on the radio was hers. What really made her stand out in my brain though, was when I saw/heard her song "wind it up".  I don't usually see music videos, so just seeing it was a major accomplishment for me. What I heard blew my mind. I thought it was a mash-up, but it was so obviously her song taking from various inspirations. Brazilian batucada,  musical mash-up with a club beat and a rap ripple going through the song. I was blown away - this was the most innovate music by a single artist since I heard Suba.

I've started listening to her entire discography and I continue to be impressed, inspired you might even say, so much so, that I'm making Gwen my role model for 2008. I'll add her to girl crew of Pippi, Aeon, and Ivy. I need to add some pop-bling to my image and she's the perfect polish.

Innovator Paradox

The problem with being an innovator, or trendsetter, is that eventually your ideas will go mainstream - and that's exactly when the innovator/trendsetting loses interest in them. Who wants to live in the frontier-land when it starts booming. Sure, the innovator or trendsetter can set out for new innovations and trends, but the problem with that is they don't always stick around long enough to reap the benefits of the bell-curve. How to do both? Innovate and pimp the bell-curve? Birth something from the wet possibilities of infinity and shape it up to ship to the craving mainstream masses?

hmmm.

Bullseye

In my awake/dreaming/trancestate this morning I was mulling over the archery:bullseye concept. There are many targets - some of them require different type of arrows. Some are closer, some are farther. Some are ones I've hit before, others I haven't. One arrow can hit only one target (and only one bullseye on that target) - no matter how good the archer.

Which targets do I want to hit. Which arrows do I need to hit them. And which targets/arrows can I retire - or minimally put on the back burner for the moment. And what criteria do I use to decide which targets I'm aiming for?

As my dad always used to say, and I've taken to heart, "Aim High".

Update: and what if instead of using a bow and arrow, I want to use an AR-15? (In that case, I'll have to move out of California to begin with, or borrow a friend's.) Wait, I thought I already went through the hardware upgrade. But a machine gun would give me the possibility of hitting more targets and there for more bullets. Hey, Heather, I think this is where the metaphor breaks down. Yeah, I think you're right. I'll go back to archery now and focus on the once and future bullseye.

The Return

4 hours till showtime at BootieLA and I've just gone through 4 months of mail and cleaned my desk. Why is it I get hit with the office cleaning bug Saturday night before a performance?

A performance I might add that I found out about a week ago and making last minute changes to as we speak. And yet, I am not the least bit nervous, concerned or scared. I remember when I did my first Bootie show last October. I was terrified about it. More terrified than pitching or presenting to a client or corporate VP or CEO. And now, without a second thought, I am brainstorming a major US/European tour with a troupe I have yet to form for next year. In fact, that reminds me - it's the month to wrangle all the goals for 2008. What is the theme for 2008 going to be? Well, I'm pretty sure it's going to be along the lines of Archery: Bullseye.

Points Along a Line

These things, these beginnings we think we create. These edifices we think we have invented - are not our inventions. Something came before us. Something caused, created us. And it is the us that has created this thing. It is a beginning for us, we are but a vessel for these things, these ideas, to manifest. But we are not responsible - and yet utterly responsible for making it happen.

It takes a village to raise a child.
Everything in this world is because of the way the world is.
Nothing can be taken out of this world and looked at objectively. Objective is a different point of view.

But it is still a point along a line. In a matrix of many points on many lines. Mostly you are bound to which points on which lines. Sometimes though, you can move from a point or a line to another. But you must be willing to abandon everything that has brought you to the point/line from which you wish to move.

Texas and Cormic McCarthy

I just got back from seeing the Cohen's Bro new movie - No Country for Old Men. I always think the Cohen bro movies are different from what they turn out to be. I had no idea what this one was about, what story would it tell, what was the style. I knew nothing, my mind was zen blank as the lights dimmed and the screen came to life.

A story unfurled. Wide beautiful shots of desert scrubland. A desert I didn't recognize. It was Texas. Some scenes reminded me of my desert trips, minus the dead bloated bodies and drug deals gone awry. (I did once dream of that life, in a country on a border far far from North America.) As the story continued, wide shots, spare dialog, characters that were not Hollywood beautiful, perfect, but interesting and a delight to look at, to watch unfold. Who was this like? What was this like? Fellini came to mind.

Scenes took place. Guns and mayhem, and surprise and ingenuity. And then there were post action come across the scenes, which reminded me of the Bashar and the last 4 chapters in Book 5 of the Dune Series. (I remember you Bashar. I remember you from that summer in Des Moines, when I was 19 and had not yet read Hyperion and learned of the Shrike. You are not just the Bashar Teg, but inspiration for other characters in stories, myths that I love.)

Until the final credits this was just another movie, until, until, I saw it was based on a Cormac McCarthy novel. Then everything fell into place. I should have know. The movie perfectly caught the difficulty, challenge and utter sensual delight of a Cormac McC novel. They are hard, rough, bitter fruits - nuanced and faceted. I went home and picked pages to read aloud from Blood Meridian. I remembered the story. I remembered who gave it to me. (Alfonso, your other name.) And I remember what I learned from that time. The love of the desert and compete and utter ruthlessness.

The Best of all Possible Worlds

I've taken a bit of a blogging hiatus. It wasn't planned, I just wasn't inspired to write much. I've been working on some things, reviewing others, trying out personas, roles, possibilities. And I've been traveling. I'm sitting in the Houston airport right now. It's been a rainy several days. I'm here celebrating the boyfriend's grandparents 65th wedding anniversary. The party was last night, and I have to say, I was excited to come and see his family again.

His grandmother, Fanny, told me a story from when they were first married, and Louie was an Army officer. She would follow him around in an old Packard. This was quite a feat because of the war gas rationing and she had to travel long distances. She didn't often have gas stamps for the gas. So she'd roll up, tell em she was the wife of an Army officer and she didn't have any gas stamps and they'd have to give the gas to her. She told me she was never refused. What really caught me about this story was her attitude when she started out - "I didn't think about how I would have to do it or how I couldn't do it. I just did it."

I found this attitude so refreshing. Especially in an 80+ year old great-grandmother.

It's an attitude that's important - that makes us alive. It's doing what we must, to have the life, to do the things, we most desire to do. It's living as if there is no other choice. A good friend of mine reminds me of a quote along this path:

"Aut viam inveniam aut faciam" (I will either find a way or make one.)

Which path do you make your way?

BarcampLA4 Preso

Here's the preso I gave at BarcampLA 4. It spans online branding, blowing shit up, doing things and how to get your heart's desire. As in all things, be authentic, manage risks strategically and be safe KICK ASS.

xxx

-Heather

ps. I'm a kick-ass integrator.

 

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ps. photo credits in the preso go to Kmo and Jenna.

Technology and conscious evolution

I've been having a conversation about technology and consciousness evolution on a mailing list I'm on. Someone had said that technology has not improved our lives. I had to categorically disagree with them, based on the concepts of the Progress Paradox. But then I started thinking about it. Beyond the day to day survival - has technology really improved our energy? As in, the energy we have to use at our disposal everyday? And the added energy we have, how are we using it? Technology uses a lot of energy today to participate in and maintain. And technology hasn't made us more efficient with our energy either. Sure it pretends to give us all this free time, by doing things for us, but many people spend the same or more time managing what's supposed to help them free up their time.

Anyway, I digress. The point in bringing up this topic on the blog is that I found an interesting book about technology and expanding consciousness in the infosphere called Digital Dharma. I'm intrigued and yet repelled. WTF? Matching up yoga chakras with levels of internet activity? I don't know. I like the concept, but from the excerpts, it's a bit out there - even for me.

Edges

"An edge means there is something beyond it"
"A end means there is something beyond it."

A beginning and an end are container points.  Differentiating, clarity, probing creates the dividing lines. What's in the container?

Mending

It feels so good to be friends again. Our friendship had almost just begun when we went into a two year exile. Two years of mixed feelings: confusion, empathy, anger, hate, detachment, acceptance. An estranged relationship - the possibilities eliminated. Paths rarely crossed. Respectful distance.

I'm so glad that's behind us. And that you're moving back to LA, where I hope we will collaborate in many exciting, geekertific, explosive projects and plans. You're another side, part of me, and yet, very different. (Isn't it always like that?) And our story, already full of interesting, strange plot twists, has taken another, as we open this chapter.

It gives me hope that other estrangements may some day be mended. I know the important ones will.

Things are so much easier, when there's no infighting. When we realize we're on the same team.

Getting over myself

I've been having the most insane dreams in the mornings. They have been generally very violent. Three days ago I drowned in a pool (after a long drawn out dream walkabout), this morning I was in the middle of a war in a hospital where I saw many people die (again after a long drawn out dream adventure). I wake up at 6:30 wide awake thinking about the many things I have to accomplish, trying to get the dream out of my head so I can go back to sleep. These dreams have absolutely nothing to do with my daily reality. They have but shadow fragments of daily life. I wasn't freaked out by drowning. The thing that pulled at my heart in that dream was my last thought "but I thought I was supposed to be revived." Wow - imagine that being the last thing you think as your drowning? Sad, huh. That feeling has stayed with me for days.

These dreams are a sharp difference from the commands I was waking up with a few weeks ago. They were specific and pithy items about helping/doing something with/for people I used to feel slight animosity for. My ego stepped in for one second and tried to bash the plan down, but when I thought about it, they were really perfect people for the situations. I had nothing to lose. So I got over myself. Once that happened something shifted in me. I stopped giving a shit about people I thought I used to hate/dislike/get irritated by. I got detached from my egotistical judgment. I didn't care about my personal opinion in the scheme of the larger plan. And that opened a much wider view.

Letting Go, Cooling down

It's October, my favorite time of year. Cool crisp air. A breeze blowing. It's a nice break from the heat of Los Angeles.

The city has been wearing me out. I used to get revitalized driving around. Exploring the new areas, being delighted by the ethnicity and variety. But that no longer has my draw. I used to get excited exploring the hills, the roads, the streets in the city. But it's already mapped. Which makes me wonder. Where's the next step?

We create our world - or do we?

I've recently been reading about phenomenology.

Literally, phenomenology is the study of "phenomena": appearances of things, or things as they appear in our experience, or the ways we experience things, thus the meanings things have in our experience. Phenomenology studies conscious experience as experienced from the subjective or first person point of view. (source)

I am not an academic nor scientist (yet), but this is the primary way I gain information. I start with observation - of myself, of others, of my interactions with others, of the world - and I look for explanations. This is different from the scientific method or starting with a question and then going on to prove or not prove it.

Anyway, I digress. I wanted to write about a conversation I had a few months about, about a cockroach on a loaf of bread. I want to believe that we create our world. Now, the problem with that is there is this mutual reality and it's harsh sometimes. At the same time, you see what you pay attention to seeing. And people miss seeing a lot of things. (Pls Note: the Gorilla in the basketball game, your blind spot and the fact that our eyes perceive the world "upside-down"). So where is the line between hard reality and the reality/world we create?

I don't know the answer to that question. And I'm not sure I necessarily have any leads - but this is my favorite thing to think about, observe the world for more data and attempt to unravel. A few months back, I had an interesting experience, that led to a detailed conversation on how I see us composing the world.

We had a problem with a rat getting into the house, and he had chewed through the plastic on a loaf of bread. I was trying to find where the rat was coming in, so I placed the bread in a strategic location to gather more data (before I attempted to kill him). We left the house for several and left the light on in the kitchen. I made note of how much chewing occurred on the bread before we left.

When we came back, I went into the kitchen for something and glanced over at the bread. There was a big fuzzy black spot over the area that had been chewed through. I stood there for a moment looking at it - not knowing what I was seeing. Then a feeling like the world flipped and I realized it was a huge cockroach on the hole eating the bread. I was surprised by the size of the cockroach. One, I don't think I have ever seen a cockroach in California, and two this one was the size of the ones I had seen in Brazil. And I immediately thought/compared of that Brazilian cockroach. Whether the thought of the Brazilian cockroach came before or after I identified the thing on the bread as a cockroach, I couldn't say. It was quasi-instantaneous.

Once I identified the cockroach, I called to the boyfriend to check out this crazy thing. He came over and after we identified what it was (I think I said, hey - it's a cockroach!) we started thinking about how to kill it. Well, actually he went about killing it.

Now, this probably sounds like an ordinary experience. Nothing strange about it - except maybe the size of the cockroach- but I saw it differently. Let me explain.

First, I didn't know what I was looking at. For a quite long time, I could not identify what I "saw". I really saw a darkish blob on the bread - and the kitchen light was on - the kitchen was not dark in any way. My sensory input told me there was something different on the bread, but I couldn't tell you what it was - yet.

It took me a moment to identify what I was looking at. How did I do this? How did I know what it was? And how did I know what to call/name it?

The way I explain it, is my brain went through it's database of images/identifiers until it found sufficient information to make a match or suggest something. How it searched? I don't know. I'm a visual person, I suppose it found the brazilian cockroach memory that linked it to the cockroach word and that's when I identified it and said in my mind - oh, it's a cockroach.

The strange thing is that this did take a noticeable amount of time. Usually when we identify something, it is immediate. A word. Chair. Empire State Building. King Kong. (See whorehouse scene in The Purple Rose of Cairo.)

But in this case, I did not immediately identify it. And I got to "see/perceive" what the thing was, before my brain pigeonholed the perception into a definition.

Now, here is where I will sound like a crazy person. I had to use my database to identify the cockroach. My database contains items I have been taught, commanded to learn, learned, etc from this reality. The cockroach is a definition of this reality.

Now, I do believe (and I suppose this is based on faith, because I haven't directly experienced this enough to assuage my skepticism) that there are multiple worlds. Multiple worlds of perception and beyond perception - other worlds. And I believe they exist simultaneously, right now. Like different TV channels. Only you can only tune into one at a time. If you want to tune into another TV channel, you first have to realize that there are other channels, and only then, can you start to understand the TV, what a channel is, and who is holding the remote control (and can you get it away from them).

But let's not get distracted by these otherworldly possibilities. I don't live in those worlds. I live in this one, where the cockroach is sitting on a loaf of bread in my kitchen.

Which leads me to my next point.

"Between stimulus and response, there is a space.
In that space is our power to choose our response.
In our response lies our growth and our freedom."

I've finally identified the cockroach - now what am I going to do about it? Here my database comes in handy again. Not only does my database include identification modules, but it also includes "approved reactions" to a variety of situations. Approved responses can be any number of things - social morals (women must stay home and raise children, homosexuality is bad), things we were taught (eat with your silverware, not fingers), things we were commanded to learn (the alpha-bet, the pledge of allegiance) to other things we pick up along the way (or inherited from family, parents, teachers, peers).

Back to the cockroach, I go to my database and pick an approved reaction. But first, do I really have the ability to choose? What about the reaction. Re-Action. Doing an action again. Like picking the action from a database. Not much awareness in that, is there? Maybe so, maybe not.

Here's the space where the phrase above tells you of your choice.

Reaction is not choosing your response. Reaction is going to your database and responding to the item in the pre-scribed way- or one of your prescribed ways without pausing to decide how to act.

Response is choosing the response. You can stick pick the response from your database, or you can do something outside your database. (More on this later. This is a fractyl hole that I love falling into, especially when it mobius flips. See: Zen detachment, controlled folly, Respond-ability)

The difference between a reaction and a response (my terminology above) is only known to the individual. (The feeling is different.) The outcome could appear exactly the same. Let's go back to the cockroach. There are a variety of approved reactions in my database. I could have jumped, screamed,  immediately smashed it, reached for insect killer - any of these are perfectly acceptable responses. But instead, what I watched. I was curious - curious about the cockroach, my response to the cockroach and myself. In the pause that I decided to be curious, I could have easily decided to grab the first thing at hand and smash it. And I almost did that, but I saw the opportunity to turn the cockroach on the bread into something more than taking care of household pests.

That self-observation - feedback loop is right there in the bottom circle, and for me - it directly feeds back into my database - further educating my database, aka the memory of my life experiences. Next time I have an interaction with a cockroach, I can utilize my new to my database experience. This is one reason why I self-observe, question, analyze and watch the world around me. To update my database. (Another reason, is to identify where the data in my database came from - because I don't necessarily agree with everything in it.)

So in creating, updating, using my database,  I do create my world. Or perhaps I re-create the world in the image I would like it to be. And isn't that the sentiment of "be the change you would like to see"?

what this is about, accd to you and google

I'm a conflicted blog writer. I write mostly for myself, my memory and because I like to create images with words. I like to transcribe experiences into text. I might polish up the actual events a bit, but it's not hyperbole. I write to remember who I was. I go back and read my blog. I remember what I was going through, what I was thinking and can see immediately how I have changed, evolved, what I have learned. What goals I have reached, what I was struggling with in the past, that today, seems so small. I often wonder why I write much of this in a very public place, for anyone to read.

The answer comes down to, I'm lazy and I type fast.

I also keep this blog public to expose my thoughts/stories/obserations. The good ones and the bad ones. The good stories inspire people, motivate them to evolve, do things they dream of or are just plain fun (explosions, unicorns, the desert). And the bad stuff, well, I write about them to expose those things. I don't want them to be bottled up inside of me. My blog is my witness - as you, the readers are too.

It's this part of my blog writing that I fear the most. I'm afraid what people might think when they read about the heather that is less than ass-kicking. The heather that questions her motivations, the world's motivations, the heather that has lost her faith. The heather that struggles to understand people, hoping, waiting for the best, and constantly disappointed in the unevolved unawareness. (Hey, I am 10 times harder on myself than any other individual.)

Bottom-line: I'm a human struggling to transcend the animal meat and this blog is one track on that path.

But, just because I write this blog for my own reasons, doesn't mean you come here for the same ones.  In fact, you are probably here for very different reasons.

Maybe you just want to find out the next geek dinner and don't care about my philosophical ramblings (hey, I don't blame you, I'm self-absorbed about my observations and analysis of my world). Maybe you're stalking me (a fair amount of you do search for my name and I don't blame you either, I'm an interesting person). But more likely, you're on my blog because you're looking for Aeon Flux Costumes, you want to learn how to write goodbye letters to someone or more recently you've heard about Craig Hightower's death.

So although I write this blog to probe the deep thoughts in my mind, google brings you here for your own reasons. I hope you find what you came for. And if you didn't, I hope you enjoyed the stories.

On Seeing

You see what you want to see. If you don't like what you are seeing,  change what you want to see. Or maybe you are seeing a reflection of yourself. If you don't like that, maybe it's time to change yourself.

On Dreams, On Living

It's not about how to achieve your dreams
It's how to lead your life
If you lead your life the right way, the karma will take care of itself
the dreams will come to you.
- Randy Pausch

Wow! That is one of the most inspiring things I have heard in a long time. And, yes, I did hear it. Thanks to superviva for the pointer.

Don’t miss this Wall Street Journal article and short video in which Randy Pausch, a Carnegie Mellon University computer-science professor, full of happy, positive energy—yet soon to die of pancreatic cancer—delivers his “final” speech.

Achieving your dreams, or goals goes hand in hand with living my life. As I live and work to achieve these things I desire, I get to practice being the person I want to be. I get to test out new ways of being, trying new methods, giving people breaks, expecting the best from them - just as I do that for myself.

Because life is not an us vs them fight.

Nobody is doing anything to anyone, let alone to a warrior - Nyei

There are infinitely more beautiful and amazing things to focus on in this reality. Projects to do, ideas to create. There is only one person worth fighting against - and that's my old self - to change, to mold myself, into the best person I can. It's a never ending process.