Archive for February, 2007

My Letter to Becky

February 19, 2007

I knew that my appreciation of what Becky said to me yesterday (see yesterday’s blog first and this one makes more sense) about how when she has a relationship with me she has a relationship with everyone might bother her. She thinks it is a bad thing. I don’t. So, she wrote me a nasty note about how awful it was and she was sorry she was talking to me and what a waste of time it was. Then, a few hours later wrote and apologized for flying off the handle, but saying she still could not be friends.

Here is my reply:  

Dear Becky,

1.  I am not an enemy.

2.  I am not your mother.

3.  I cannot hurt you.

4.  We are not separate.

5.  We are one.

Separating ourselves, distancing, has never helped me to heal in the long run. It only recreates the “fall of man,” the illusion that anyone can be separate from God, echoed in appearing to be separate from each other.

Temporarily, it may give me the sense of safety that I am not finding when I am with a person who triggers me. Okay, for a while.

Eventually, when this sort of thing comes up for me, I want to feel safe and loved in that person’s presence. (Ideally, no matter what they are doing or saying or not doing and not saying.)

If the person was never a friend, and we don’t have common interests, we may not see each other a lot even when that healing occurs. Such is the case with my father. He can barely trigger me at all most of the time. We just don’t have a lot in common and live 800 miles apart. I talk to him about once a month on the phone.

But you were once a friend. We once shared some of my (our?) deepest interests with each other. Then we reached a place where your safety seemed to depend on silence and separation and mine seemed to depend on speaking and union. We defend ourselves in opposite ways. You have told me before to say whatever I need to say to whomever.

I held silence for you for most of the past 2 years because I love you, and because I saw that as the only way that there would ever be any possibility of healing between us – if I shut up and went away for a while. That’s what Jake and Jared told me might help.

It is not easy for me. It was a constant strain, especially at first. Now it’s become a bit of a habit. I don’t pick up the phone to share with you when I’m excited about something you would resonate with or understand, much less when I am upset and would value your insights. I don’t even speak much when I sit next to you at a party.

I hope to heal that.

My healing shows up when I don’t feel I’m “holding silence” and it is not a strain, but relaxed. I’ll get clearer with that part. I’m sure that it doesn’t help you feel safe when it feels to you like I’m constantly bursting with things I want to say.

Becky, we can heal this. Please don’t walk away. Please help me find a balance that really works for both of us.

I hold the possibility for renewed friendship in any moment we are together, even in my thoughts.

I don’t offer myself or my friendship overtly to you anymore. I do try to hold myself ready to respond to any slight offer you make. I thought that was what happened at Amante. I thought you opened a door when you told me I had triggered survival fears relating to your mother and triangulation. I respect that. I know what it’s like to feel I’m going to die or be hurt around someone who reminds me of a parent or situation that does not feel safe. (to me or to themselves)

It did feel good to speak for a couple of days and say the things I’ve held for so long. Thank you. And I’m sorry it triggered you.

That’s as much vulnerability as I can find right now and I don’t know how it is coming across in print. 

I wanted your friendship, Becky. I can live without it. It is neither my first choice, nor my ideal world to do so.

(end of letter to Becky)

I could send this same letter to about 4 women in my life who have responded the same way Becky did. Three of them are Libras. One is a Taurus.

I’m going to do a Worksheet (Work of Byron Katie) on this and see what’s in there for me.

I may post it here when I’m done.

Love,

Stacy

Advertisements

All One

February 18, 2007

I saw a bumper sticker yesterday that I want. It said, “All One.”

Wouldn’t that be a beautiful world to work toward? No?

All One… that’s GOD, y’all!

Spider Robinson goes into this in most, if not all, of his books. Especially read “Time Pressure” if you have trouble with the idea of strangers knowing about you.

Today Becky, someone I used to be fairly close to, said one of the most wonderful things anyone has ever said to me or about me:

  “When I have a close relationship with you I have a relationship with everybody”

I love that and hope it is true. 

Yes, I took that out of context. She was complaining that I might say something about her to other friends of mine that she did not know. Her complete sentence was:

“When I have a close relationship with you I have a relationship with everybody – potentially people I don’t know, people with varying agendas or biases, varying
worldviews, etc.”

It’s true no matter where I put the period.  

I can’t find a problem with her or you or anyone else talking about me to others and thereby creating a relationship for me with someone I “don’t know.”

That one is a little tricky. In a way, I know everybody. So do you. They’re all you, or all me or whatever that is.

Sure, we’re not always aware of that place. We’re often in the black/white, right/wrong, you/me, us/them of this beautiful creative dual world. Okay. So?

I know that I have a really different take on these things than most people do. Frankly, it is one of my most precious gifts and something I cherish about myself. I can be sad sometimes when a former close friend like Becky chooses to distance herself (seem to distance herself) from me out of what looks like fear or separation or something. (I don’t really know. I’m not in her head, but that’s how it looks from what seems to be “out here.”)

I ran into this same thing with another friend. Well, he’s an ex-lover, but I’m not supposed to say that. No wait, I can say that part. It gets all confusing for me when I have to remember what I can and cannot say. I loved my ex-husband, Marvin, for completely agreeing with me about just sticking to the truth and not worrying about who we could say what to. That really worked for me. Totally.

Anyway, this lover’s name is Cricket. Well, that’s what I call him. Anyway, I’m about to go to some parties where he will know more people than I do. It’s a group he’s been hanging out with for a couple of years. One of my friends invited me, and I decided it was worth it for many reasons.

Remember the “Medieval Girl” blog?  It was right before this one.

This group has guys with long hair! I just have to go and see if I might have anything in common with them. Or the women, for that matter. Maybe people with similar interests. I’d love it if they do.

So, Cricket writes me and says, “my personal life is private.” I replied and said, “My personal life is public” and asked how he wants me to handle this. He says I can say we dated and that’s all anyone needs to know. Well, we actually lived together for nearly a year, so I’m going to go ahead and say that. I ran it by him. But I know the stuff he doesn’t want people to know.

It’s the stuff I’m blogging about all the time!

Sex, connection, relationships, etc.

What’s not to share about that?

Well, okay, I may not choose to share all of that with everyone all the time, but I share it with my friends and I do hope that by extension I am sharing it with all of their friends!  Good grief! This isn’t just anyone they would talk to about me! These are their friends!  

And so what if I don’t like all their friends? Or so what if they get me all wrong and don’t “understand” whatever that is? What harm does that do me?

If they really want to know, they can get to know me. If they don’t, okay.

So what if they publish it in tomorrow morning’s newspaper? And the whole world reads their opinion about me? People survive that all the time. Hell, they make good money off it!  

I can keep dealing with who and what is in front of me.

I somehow don’t feel threatened by it the same way Becky does.

What other people think of me is really none of my business.

Love,

Stacy

Medieval Girl

February 12, 2007

Something inside me relaxed in gratitude and comfort yesterday at brunch when Steven turned to me and asked, “In what century do you think you should have been born?”

Isn’t it wonderful when your friends know things about you that are so integral that you miss the forest for the trees until someone says something? I got all warm and fuzzy inside.

I said, “I don’t know. Medieval times. What year was that?”

I checked Wikipedia. Pope Gregory started our calendar on February 24 in 1582. No wonder I didn’t know what year it was!  We didn’t use those years. Somebody was just about to change our whole concept of time!

Wikipedia also says that medieval times date from the 5th to the 16th century. I’m kinda part of the latter period there, I think. I didn’t read it all. That’s about the period of kings, queens, courts and . . . courtesans!!!

How’s that for a Valentine’s Day thought?

I love castles and the idea of dungeons and lots of things.

I love men with hair down to the middle of their backs and leather lace up boots and knives at their hips, wearing billowing poet’s shirts and speaking with British or Celtic accents. Pirate types, too. Think Johnny Depp in “Pirates of the Carribean.” And gypsies!

They melt me into a puddle.

I know a little more than just the romantic version. I know a little about living without plumbing and heating with a woodstove. Not much, but I lived a year at 9000 feet. After 3 nights at 18 degrees, I could keep the fire going all night. Necessity being a mother, and all of that.

I sometimes describe myself as a cross between a courtesan and a tavern wench. Courtesans were generally educated. If you have never seen the movie, “Dangerous Beauty,” I highly recommend it. If you’re female and love sex and giving men their fantasies, take your tissues, you will need them. “Princess Bride” is another one.

Turns out that the woman sitting next to me at brunch, someone who had not been there before, loves “Dangerous Beauty,” too. We made a date to have dinner and chat about our common interests.

Here is the Wikipedia entry on courtesans, with a note that “the neutrality of this article is disputed.”  Ha, I’ll bet.

“A courtesan of mid-16th century usage referred to a high-class prostitute or mistress, especially one associated with rich, powerful, or upper-class men who provided luxuries and status in exchange for her services. In Renaissance Europe, courtesans played an important role in upper-class society, sometimes taking the place of wives at social functions.[citation needed] As it was customary during this time for royal couples to lead separate lives—commonly marrying simply to preserve bloodlines and to secure political alliances—men would often seek sexual gratification and companionship from a courtesan. There have been a few isolated cases of courtesans providing services to wealthy females, however.[citation needed] Courtesans usually enjoyed more freedoms than was typical of women at the time. For example, they were financially stable and independent. Being in control of their own resources meant that they did not need to rely on their spouses or male relatives to survive, as was the case for the majority of women.”

So, the Medieval period is first, then there was the Renaissance, followed by the Protestant Reformation.

You lose me at the Renaissance. I am a little out of my depth and preferences by then. You get a little too intellectual and stiff there. That’s fine for those with 1500 different interests and talents, but that’s not me. And I prefer not to put Decartes before the horse.

The Protestant Reformation was sort of kind of a step forward, in my opinion, from straight Catholicism. At least people were starting to think for themselves a little more, but it is nothing compared to the ideas that Christ actually taught, as far as I can tell.

Christ taught us to “seek ye first the Kingdom of Heaven.” And then he told us where to look, “the Kingdom of Heaven is WITHIN.” Not in a book, not with a guru, not in a church, not in an organization… INSIDE.

Yeah, I have some affinity for that time, too. Mary Magdalene is my patron saint. She is indeed a saint in the Episcopal church.

I really love the castles. Can I have mine with heat and running water?

This prompts many people to ask if I am a member of SCA, the Society for Creative Anachronism. The answer is “no.” Oh, I might fit in with one group or another. I’ve gone to an event or two. I’d love to learn the dances. But for some reason it isn’t quite the fit I’m after. I don’t want to play at it, dress up in period garb and go to SCA events, really. Oh, I might with the right person.

And yes, I’ve been to a few Renaissance Festivals in a couple of states. (No pun intended.) They’re alright. I’m not a fan of large groups of people I do not know doing a multitude of different colorful things. (This aversion keeps me from Burning Man, too, since that’s often another question I am asked. That and the desert and the heat. No thanks!)

One of my favorite albums as a child was Oscar Brand’s “Bawdy Songs and Backroom Ballads, Volume III.” I had it memorized by the time I was 13 or 14.

Try this one:

She’ll Do It Again  

And for a sheep-skin, she’ll do it, she’ll do it,
And for a sheep-skin, she’ll do it again,
And for a cow’s horn, she’ll do it all morn,
And merrily turn, and do it again.

Among our young lasses is Muirland Meg,
She’ll beg you to do it she’ll beg and she’ll beg,
At thirteen her maidenhead flew to the gate,
And thedoor of thecage it is wide open yet

Her kettle-black eyes want to tickle you through,
Her lips seem to say it, “Kiss me, please do,”
The curls and the links of her bonny black hair
Would put you in mind that the lassie has mair.

An armful of love is her bosom sae plump,
A span of delight is her middle and rump,
A taper white leg, and a stomach in style,
And a fiddle nearby you can play for a while.

For love’s her delight, and kissing’s her treasure,
She’ll stick at no price and she’ll give you good measure,
So take her warm hand, mon, or better, her leg,
And sing of the praises of Muirland Meg.

 Here are the lyrics to one of my favorites, “Kafoozalem.” The tune is “London Bridge,” basically. I found 2 spellings and several versions worse, or better, depending upon your taste, than this one, but this is the one I learned as a child.

You can find the rest of them on this link:

http://www.google.com/musicl?lid=HdS1NX2xxcB&aid=Hpg2T_mzPSI

Chorus:

Hi ho Kafoozalem, the harlot of Jerusalem
Prostitute of ill repute
Daughter of the Baba.

Come listen to my tale of woe
It happened many years ago
When women rarely answered no
Way down in old Jerusalem.

(Chorus)

Kafoozalem was a wily witch
A horny whore, a brazen bitch
She caused all the lips to twitch
That liveth in Jerusalem.

(Chorus)

There was a prince both lean and tall
Whose manly arts made all to fall
His victims lined the Wailing Wall
That standeth in Jerusalem.

(Chorus)

One night returnin’ from a spree
His customary leer had he
Looked down the road and chanced to see
That horny wench Kafoozalem.

(Chorus)

With artful eye and cunning look
She led him to a shady nook
And to her bounteous bosom took
The pride of all Jerusalem.

(Chorus)

But he was too abrupt, alas
And so he made a hasty pass
That knocked Kafoozalem to the grass
That grows in old Jerusalem.

(Chorus)

But Kafoozalem was overgassed
She arched her back and loosed a blast
That sent him flying far and fast
Sailin’ o’er Jerusalem.

(Chorus)

And when the moon is bright and red
A flying form sails overhead
Still raining curses on the bed
Of that brazen bitch Kafoozalem.

(Chorus)

I also loved “Dynamo Hum,” by Frank Zappa, and dozens of others similar to these. 

That may be another blog, for another day.

Goodnight, boys and girls. 

Love,

Stacy (aka Anastacia)

Go See the Movie, “Freedom Writers!”

February 7, 2007

Really. Now.

A significant portion of your movie dollar goes to support the Freedom Writers Foundation. See www.freedomwritersfoundation.com 

I saw it last night. You know me, I leave the theater feeling high and  connected after a movie full of truth that makes a difference. I guess I was safe to drive. I got home alright.

I cried. Take your tissues.

I don’t know how to tell you how impactful and moving this movie is.

Yes, I am impacted and moved by many things. My responses were most likely colored by my deep desire to teach classes (more than I do). Also, I recently met a man who was abandoned by his parents at 13 and lived on the streets until someone took him in. He was also one of 2 white guys in an all black school in Colorado. He lived this movie. 

What I did not know, until the end of the movie is that it was real. This movie is based on a true story. I cried across the mall to Borders and bought two copies of the book. One for me, and one for the guy I mentioned above. The clerk at the bookstore was sympathetic. Her husband is a teacher, too. I delivered my friend’s copy to him this morning about 6 am. Why not? I was up. It was important.

OMFG

Erin Gruwell, the teacher who inspired these students to finish schools and help others, is a real person. The book is a real book.

Buy it. Proceeds go to the foundation to provide similar inspiration and training to to more students.

Here is the link to go buy the book. This link takes you to the 1999 cover with a picture of Ms. Gruwell and her real students. There is a movie version of the cover out, too, now.

http://www.amazon.com/Freedom-Writers-Diary-Teacher-Themselves/dp/038549422X/sr=8-1/qid=1170890103/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/102-8152290-6856167?ie=UTF8&s=books

If you have children. If you have ever been a child. This book is likely to be very, very moving.

I hope I can do a fraction of the good this woman is doing.

Love,

Stacy

Abominable Snow! Man!

February 1, 2007

Is it ever going to stop snowing?

Yes, the planet needs water. Colorado has been having droughts. I never thought about the fact that if the drought was to clear, it would most likely happen with snow, not rain, Texas girl that I am.

This morning I fell down go boom. Yeah, I slipped on black ice in a parking lot. Shoulda worn the snow boots. I’ll do that the rest of the week, for sure. The rear wheel drive 83 Toyota made it to the temp job, praise Shiva! I travel up a highway, so most likely I’ll be able to get here and back, although I will most certainly not be traveling at the 55 mph speed limit like the SUV’s all around me. They’ll just have to go around me. I’m just happy as a clam to be driving my own car somewhere.

This has been a very isolated, cold, snowy winter for me.

Last week I started using “Here Comes the Sun” by the Beatles as a sig line:

“Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been clear
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it’s all right
It’s all right.”

                – The Beatles
–>

Looks like next week we have mid-40’s temperatures. Humidity has been staying in the 50 to 70% range where fungus and mold love to grow. I’m sniffing, nearly losing my voice for 2 weeks now. I’ve had just about enough of this. I’m thinking maybe Arizona if it doesn’t clear up!  Nah, I’ll stay here, Lord willin’ and the crick don’t rise.

I’m looking for places to go do The Work of Byron Katie or Quantum Wealth work, perhaps paid, perhaps as a volunteer. Got any ideas? Send them to me, tell me whom to contact. I’m wondering what to say and how to go about it. I just want to be doing something and I love that stuff. It works.

I went through an exercise of writing little paragraphs about many of the things I can teach and submitting them to a school here that has not replied to either my initial inquiry or my follow up. I guess they’re not interested, but it did give me some ideas. I want to create some new groups.

Oh, and if you’re local, ask me about the Light Reading (pun intended) group that is meeting on 3rd Saturdays 10 am to Noon. That was fun. We’re going to do it again!

I’d love to see comments, calls and letters when you can!

Love,

Stacy