Just Dance

I'm always amazed by what happens to me when a rhythm is played or when an increase of energy is present within music. I immediately want to move. I immediately want to feel the tingle of the electricity of the rhythm in every pore of my body. I am entranced when I dance. I lose all consciousness of what else is around me when I am connected to the energy that is me and the rhythm that is felt. It is me the music and the energy that connects the two parts. 

I danced for 3 hours straight without thinking or drinking. It was a good dancing night. For most of the night it was just me on the dance floor with the intermingling of my colleagues. I didn't care. I think tonight was the first night that I didn't care about who was watching, how I was moving, and whether or not I was dancing well. I was just moving and loving every moment of the freedom and the energy that I was able to create. Soon more people were dancing and then I started to get even happier, because I could see and feel them getting into the energetic tangle. It was beautiful. Everyone moves so differently, and it is just so fascinating to see how one person interprets a rhythm or a song and makes it his own. 

It goes without saying, I love to dance. I love music and I love feeling music in me. The more I learn, the more I realize that movement is something that I am fascinated by. I love the human body and I love how it works. The smallest movement of the body can change the entire energy of a person and can even go so far as changing the emotion of a group of people. 

Dancing is not something some people do, it's what we all do. It's present whenever we move. 

When you tell your mom everything

When you tell your mother everything
You know she's not going to understand
But you know you have to take that chance
Well at least you feel like you needed to at the time
When you tell your mom all the good and all the bad
When you tell your mom about your super powers
You are going to get a reaction
You are going to get the "worried" reaction
Information overload is a mom's injection to "worriedness"

But when you decide to start telling your mom everything
You feel freedom
You feel like you
You don't feel like a secret
You start to be you
You start to let the person that cares about you more than anything in
When you realize you never let her in
You are overwhelmed with what that means
You feel like a stranger to yourself and to the woman who did everything for you

When you decide to tell your mom everything
You are jumping off a very big cliff into a very unknown land
You know she won't understand everything, but you are finally willing to take that chance
You are finally willing to let her reactions to your words matter less than the truth you want to share
You are finally living and sharing your life with someone that you love and who loves you back
You are finally communicating without borders

When you decide to tell your mom everything
You have decided to start telling yourself everything
You are ready to be heard
You are ready to step out from your shadow
You are ready for whatever may come

When you decide to tell your mom everything
You feel the love she's been giving you from day one
And you will be surprised by how amazing that can be

The reflection of a trombone case in an elevator mirror

When you realize that you love someone, you never forget that moment. Every little detail becomes ingrained in you head. Even the location of the mustard seems like a still life painted by a marvelous artist.

When you realize that you love someone, an incredible thing happens a part of you wakes up as if an alarm clock just went off.

When you realize that you love someone, it may not be the first time that you realized it for that person. It may actually be days or months after you pushed aside any hope of reality allowing that love to become something of a committment between you, the universe, and that other person. 

When you realize you love someone, you have an undenying urger to tell them without concern for the consequences.

When you realize you love someone, you begin to understand the connection between soul, body and the greater universal spirit. When you realize that you actually love someone, there is no turning back...you will always love them in some way. 

When you realize you love someone, you feel completely out of control, and you know that you cannot really control the destiny of where that love takes you. But, having faith in that love will deliver you to a beautiful place even if in the end you are not really with that person. It was love, it was the realization of love, that got you there. 

And so when you realize you love someone, you have to have faith that it will take you on a journey that you would never trade no matter how big the heartbreak may be when reality shatters your perceptions of "what you thought might be forever." 

The thing is, you will love forever and love will forever be realized.

Today I realized that I will never stop loving the people who have made me "realize love" and I'll never forget the smell of the coffee on one particular day, nor forget the color of the trees and the smell of rain, or even think about dismissing the orange dinosaur shirt, or the reflection of a trombone case in an elevator mirror.

And so when you realize you love someone, there's no turning back. SMACK you've started living with your heart and your heart is the best compass you have. 

The reality of the AR Team: a real dream

I can measure it all in hours
2 hours in Cahuita at dinner
2 hours walking, dancing, and listening to reggae
30 some hours instant messaging
60 some hours of interrupted long distance phone calls
30 some hours of kissing
35 hours of sleeping, well I slept while you spent the night meditating and studying
10 hours of bathing
20 some hours of holding hands
2 hours of dancing to bad 80s music
12 hours of riding in cars
168 hours minus 20 hours--our total honeymoon
I can measure it all as if I were counting it on my fingers
I can measure, the life of Anne and Ruben, in a chapter that ends with no words
There is nothing more to say than, my reality of this feels much more as a dream
Teaching us beauty and helping us find a little more of who we both are
I can measure you in hours, I can measure us in telephone bills
There are no fairy book endings dear one, there is just the reality of this
We dared to dream of a life together, and reality set an alarm clock that was set much earlier than I expected
It's been 48 hours...I've already let go

Being human

Being human is fragile

Beautiful beyond expression

Dangerous for the most unexpected reasons

Joyful for the dance we take and make

Heartbreaking for the love we share and cannot humanly keep

Stressful for the burden of power we carry

Inspiring for the possibilities we have been granted

Reassuring with soul companionship

Believable when we see the sun and moon

A dream when we wake to find our body breathes

Energetically driven by the food we grow

Desired by the animal inside

Passion from the center of our every nucleolus

Being human is something to be respected

With our great power comes great responsibility

It's so easy to play in the shadows to search the light for more

But it is our bodies that protect us from the energies that shift

It is our bodies that make us human and allow our spirits a place

A place to manifest the ingenuity of something much larger

Being human is a gift of light

We have the ability to see what the power of energy can create

from the smallest seed to the largest galaxy

We are impeccably awesome and impeccably blessed

Jump

When do we learn to jump?

Is it before we run

Is it before we hide

Is it when we find joy

or is it when we are scared

When do we learn how to defy gravity?

Is it on the high dive

The graduation podium

The one-way ticket to a land far far away

How do we jump?

With eyes open or closed

With our nose plugged or unplugged

With a scream or with silence

How do we know?

With love

With pain

With intuitive wisdom

With our heart wide open

Where do we jump?

In our heart

In our homes

In foreign soil

On stage in front of 1000s

When can I jump?

Now.

Jumping is something we use as a way of expressing joy, or when we have no other choice. But, in my life jumping has meant facing fear. It has physically meant jumping off 70 ft waterfalls. 

Jumping has been a metaphor in my life that often did not involve the physical "leap of faith" but the "leap of faith" in myself. The physical examples of it are the best ways to describe the "leap of faith" --waking up one morning and deciding that I would ride my bike without anyone at the age of 4, climbing a 500 ft exposed piece of rock, doing my first back walkover on the balance beam, moving to Chicago without knowing anyone, and performing on stage in front of hundreds of people.

 

I have jumped so many times, and have fallen more times than I can remember. 

But, now there is a jump that seems higher than any of my previous ones. One that will land me in a valley unlike any place I've ever been. I keep wondering when the timing will be right. I keep wondering...I keep postponing this jump...this leap of faith.

Take my hand

I'll hold on tight

we'll walk this rope

we'll fight this fight

Together

there is no letting go

interlaced in love

enlightened through life

Take my hand

I'll do my best to empty 

the promises of yesterday

into the truth of today

There's nothing to fear

my strength is strong

if you can handle

where I'll lead you

Take my hand

let me show you

what I need you to know

what I need me to be

where I need to go

Take my hand

trust that there will be 

a road

a sign

a resting spot

a journey with hope

for you and I

wherever we go

Can we move on from here

Can we move on from here

It's isolating

cold and dirty

slippery when spoken

a hole when silenced

takes peace and 

empties it with the noise 

of a garbage disposable

grinding to bits the seed

that was to grow 

Can we move on from here

the pollution is suffocating

boiling up with tears that

won't come 

dehydrated it is this place

ground unfertile to grow

Can we move on from here

I hate it here

it's dark the sun doesn't shine

words misspoken descend

like storm clouds

detonating lightning 

wiping out connection

Please can we move on

I cannot... 

I cannot stay

not here, not with you

not now

Please let me move on

these walls

I was laying on my nasty bedroom floor tonight, eating sweet potato fries with hot sauce and a good ol' cup of chamomile tea staring at the same bedroom ceiling and walls that I've been embraced with for 4 years. Cancun blue walls and a ceiling that's hardly white that holds one light bulb. 

I laughed. The ceiling is crooked with signs of water damage and foundation shiftage. Over a hundred years old, this house has held many secrets and has been called home by many people. I thought to myself about everything that these walls have witnessed in the past 4 years, and I couldn't help but feel all those memories rush back at me pulling me into the past. 

A lot of love, a lot of pain, a lot of sickness, and a lot of late night work. And through all the memories I saw change, I saw myself become who I am right now. All the stuff in this room makes me claustrophobic next to all of the memories. I see shirts, sheet music, shoes, and stationery that I never use or haven't touched in years. Some of the stuff just takes up space and I don't even know what it is. 

I want to get rid of it all and keep only what I need. This room, this house, reflects stagnancy and the past, yet it is a place where I have found comfort, yet never felt completely at home. The moments it's felt most like home have been the moments when I lose track of the space that I'm in. Therefore making the point that home is not about material buildings. 

These walls have held me safe, but as I look around all I see is the possibility to change. To make the choice to stay or leave these walls will be change. 

I saw another set of walls tonight that were very foreign and empty of memories, but full of peace and possibility and requiring me to simplify. They offered me a new opportunity to live with my beautiful friend and her adorable little dog Nutmeg. The synchronicity of where I'm at and this opportunity couldn't be more aligned. 

Of course, I hover. I hover on this change because of the responsibility it involves. 1)Simplify by getting rid of everything large (car, furniture, etc) 2) Helping to take care of Nutmeg 3)Living with a new person.

How it aligns is that 1) I have flexibility in staying 2) It's cheaper 3) I get to have a dog 4)I get to walk to work 5) I'm going after a dramatic shift that's already happening in my life.

As I stared up at the ceiling, I realized that this felt like a road sign and that it was a blessing. I am given a chance to go a different direction. An unexpected direction, but a direction full of many possibilities. 

When it comes down to it, I don't think this decision is about the money that I will be saving. It will be much more than that. 

Contradictions

When we look around at things in nature there is this juxtaposition of rough and smooth. A rough surf  next to the smooth sand of a beach. The porcupine's thistle next to the smooth outline of a bird's feather. The color blue next to the edge of a mountain peak. 

We take these visuals as normal presentations of how things are and use them to define our world. Smooth and rough--textural differences but a reflection of natural contradiction present in ordinary life. Contradiction in the sense that the eye sees and feels two different things simultaneously, consecutively, or disproportionally. 

Yet in human speech and human thought we often find contradiction as a place of weakness in thought, intelligence, or in ethics. We judge and assimilate inaccurate opinions of contradictions supposedly apparent in our own experiences, yet, without realizing it, we are also "walking contradictions." 

Deciding to believe something one day, and then changing our minds from one moment to the next. Evolving in opinions and dissolving into the line "to err is human." But, I'd like to argue that we are not erring, rather discovering that there is never an absolute and that there is always change present. There are great things to discover in contradictions about yourself and others. 

Rules contradict, words contradict, time contradicts (it's 9 am here, it's 10 am there). 

You are allowed to contradict. The important part is the reaction to contradiction. And in many circumstances contradictions can cause upheavals and judgments passed upon others that are frightening. Hence, the evolution, the cycle of change, the unavoidable nature of life.

I contradict so often I cannot keep count. But discovery always occurs. And forgiveness is always needed--whether for myself or for others.  As I move forward, I realize that promises are not a good way to live your life, because you're up against an absolute. More often than not promises have only led me to broken promises.

So I say this all now, and tomorrow it all may change. 

Unexpected-spectations

When I woke up this morning, I felt like I had been awakened by someone tapping me on the shoulder telling me I had to do something. So I woke up, made an awesome cup of tea. Drank some oj and ate my cereal--typical morning things. Sat down to write, but nothing came. That tapping finger feeling made me feel like I was expected, expected to know what to do, yet it was so very unexpected. 

I stared at the cursor, then I remembered the awesome Chaco sandals I bought. I put them on my feet and threw away the box. But, unexpectedly I flipped through the catalog and actually paid attention to the text. To my surprise I found 2 amazing little vinyettes about 2 amazing people doing really amazing things. I hate the word amazing, but this is the truest way to describe how I felt. 

I logged into their sites. www.bendinggrass.com, and www.wildernessclassroom.com.  And immediately knew what the tapping finger feeling was all about. "Hey Anne, it's time to wake up now." The wake up was literal, but there is some metaphorical truth to it as well. 

"Wake up. This is your life. Go after the pounding in your heart. Dig into the energy. They too were like you, and they went after that pounding in their heart, that crazy psycho feeling of wanting to do crazy psycho things that other people think you should never do. Stop listening to the crazies. Wake up."

Expectations of who I am and what I'm supposed to do have done some really crazy things to me. And, to be quite honest I don't like what they've done to me. More often then not expectations have led me to the unexpected and left me like a pile of poop out of a jackass. And grant it the unexpected have put me face down in my own poo to realize some really awesome stuff. But it's when the unexpected are preceded by expectations that I have a really really hard time pulling myself up by the bootstraps. 

Therefore, the unexpected-spectations are the best, the most beautiful, and the hardest bestest lessons life can hand you.  So, this morning after I woke up, I woke up to the fact that I have no idea why my heart pounds and my eyes feel ten-times wider when I read about the stories of women and men who dive into the ocean rather than taking the boat. All I know is that I want to swim too. I want to feel the water rather than fear it. 

The boat is an expectation of safety. But really the boat faces just as much unexpected as the swimmer. The swimmer needs to trust her strength, needs to use her own instincts, it is just her and nature. She doesn't expect anything more than that hope to be able to keep swimming and the hope to not be eaten by a shark. 

This metaphor has holes, but what I'm trying to say is that when we stop expecting to be happy, to know what to do, to find that man or woman of our dreams, to win the race, well then we'll always be thankful for what we have right now. Life is a surprise.

Start swimming. Take that longboard with when the waves get big. Let go of the GPS system and let that heart of yours direct. Staying on the boat is mistaken security--you still may drown. Yes there may be more risks swimming, but at least you'll have learned your true strength, your possibilities, and you'll go place you never would have gone internally and externally. 

You'll never be ready for it. There's never a guidebook of how to prepare for things, you just have to go through them. Failure does not exist, your expectations are the only things that will tell you to feel like shit when things don't pan out the way you "expect." 

Live. It's ok to be afraid, that means you've got the energy to get through it. Fear often tells you what direction you need to go so long as you have courage to let it direct you smack into it. I need to tell myself that every day. 

Little by Little

After a 10 day sabbatical from the comforts of my own home, but the joys of 5 am dog kissing alarm clocks followed by the humm of a space heater and my own sacred space to breathe, practice inversions, and wake up to the world with prana, I feel very grateful. 

Although I was a mere 10 miles away from my own familiar life, I feel like I just returned from a safari on the other side of the world. You don't have to go very far in Chicago to feel like you're in another land, time zone, or perhaps at times dimension. Garfield Park a place that transported me into a different level of awareness. (I made the comment a few days ago, that it was like going scuba diving for a secret cove of seahorses. I had to go deep into a void. A void filled with a lot of fear.)

The best part about it was, I had no choice. Dogs, cats, and an entire crop of garden seedlings were depending on me to take care of them. Responsibility was consistent, the fear was high, but I had no way of turning back. It was like climbing a 5.11 without having a choice. There was no other way to return without going up the path that seemed challenging. 

Like everything in life, the journey through a very unexpected experience with fear, gave me strength, healing, and a more heightened sense of self truth and trust. 

A dog, Wasabi, taught me something that I will never forget. Hesitation and fear sends out doubt of trustworthiness. More accurately it sent a message of "trusting myself." 

Wasabi was abused as a puppy, and his current parents rescued him. He does not befriend strangers and without the right type of energy present, you cannot touch him without him growling, barking, and biting. He does not trust what an emotionally healthy dog would love--touch. 

He sensed my fear or hesitation around him by the way I'd walk or talk. Yet when I would be tired or not thinking about him barking/snapping at me he would cuddle up beside me in bed and fall asleep. After 8 days and a lot of gentle tests and a lot of awareness on my part. Finally, he let me in. 

I came home from work, started playing with him as if I were another dog, laid down on my back and he started licking my face. I was ecstatic, and hugged him. No barking, no biting, we had come to trust and respect that neither one of us was going to hurt the other. 

I was ecstatic. More accurately I felt like I had learned an amazing amount about working with something scary and learning how to trust myself to be strong enough to change and allow someone or something in. Energetic presentation. I'm continually working with it in everything I do. 

It's very very hard work. 

The other dog, Hana. In many ways brought me a lot of peace. Her personality is so beautiful, so loving, so humerous that no matter how bad you're feeling she knows how to woo you into a smile or a laugh. 

The dogs practice yoga with me and when their parents are home, with them. They sit on this big cushion, snoring and beckoning you to breath the peace that so effortlessly put them to sleep. I was meditating one night...I lost track of time, and I started crying. I was angry about love. I was battling the lesson of loving, forgiving, and letting go. I thought I had come a long way, but some days it creeps up on me. 

That night, I had my own space and I felt surrounded with really loving energy, so I just cried. I let stuff go, and Hana got up and came over and started licking away my tears. I clung to her like I would cling to my dad or mom after having a nightmare as a child. She kept licking my face. My anger began to dissipate and Hana just sat there staring me in the face. Those brown eyes told me everything. They told me that this pain that I felt brought and would bring more love into my life, and she was a reflection of that. 

Garfield Park in and of itself is an environment that tests your panic buttons. As a white fair-skinned woman, I was the minority, and I could feel it everyday I'd walk down the street. At first I would feel just radiating amounts of nervousness as cars would drive by honking at me. I'd avoid making eye contact with every car. I just wanted to get from point A to point B. 

After a few days I realized that I was creating the nervousness unnecessarily. I realized I was wasting tremendous amounts of energy being afraid. And asked myself, "What are you afraid of?" I had no answer other than the fact that I was afraid of being who I was where I was. And that was not going to protect me even if I was in danger. 

Little by little I stopped. I made every effort to walk without fear down a street that was supposedly one of the most dangerous neighborhoods. Little by little I started to laugh when a car full of men would honk and yell out their window "Hey pretty lady." And little by little my awareness let me see that intuitively there was nothing to fear unless I wanted to attract it. 

Little by little, that's all we can do to transform our awareness and to energetically present our truth.  

Hot Tubs

The world would be a better place if a hot tub was a prerequisite to every house and family. Hot bubbly steamy water is one of the best things in life. Maybe I should ammend what I just said, and say, the world would be a better place if everyone and their mother/father had hot water to soak in for at least 20 minutes every other day.  But the bubbles and jets...they are really key, especially if you're a mover and shaker. 

Every ounce of crappiness dissolves into the steam and suddenly your brain is like an empty cauldron. Nothing but tranquility. You forget every little annoyance and you suddenly realize why Miss America contestants always answer the question, "What do you want the most?" "World Peace." 

Ah yes, World Peace, I saw the solution in the drops of steam and in the smell of lavendar.

Hot tubs for everyone! 

If you know me, you've often heard me say, "Well, if everyone just made love a lot more, we'd be a lot more peaceful." However, I think Hot tubs are bit "safer" to some extent, and well...yeah...no comment. 

Hot tubs were invented way way way back "when." Way back when the Romans and Greeks ruled with really hot warriors who I'm sure needed really hot baths to relax...or so I'd like to think. Or maybe they just knew it would erase all the crappiness and they'd dissolve into the essence of pure bliss. 

Actually, ammendment needed. No one really invented the hot tub per se, rather the earth deserves all the credit. Chuckle.

Of course, everything in moderation. But seriously, dude, hot tubs are really the answer. 

Hmmm...maybe I should consider going into the hot tub busines...

I can see it now...Anne's hot tub emporium, solving World Peace one tub at a time. 

Or not.

Let's just say that I was and am soo geeked about the hot tub in my house that I had to write a blog about it. 

There was more...but I lost the point after I left the bubbling waters.

Passing out from hot tub coma.

Bubble out.

Pushing Comfort Levels

Sitting cross-legged on the floor. Ethernet cord plugged in. Gosh, I can't remember when the last time I sat on hardwood floor with an ethernet cord. Maybe when I was moving out of my college dorm, but lets just say this orange ethernet cord is giving me a little bit of comfort. 

"What did I get myself into?" was the first thought that crossed my mind as I unlocked the gate to a "Harry Potter-like" house and then found myself greeted by 2 dogs. One of which, Hana, was very very happy to see me, and the other, Wasabi, wasn't so sure he liked me. I got a nice little growl and a couple barks. "Here goes nothing." 

After adjusting to the fact that I was not going to be best friends with Wasabi, and feeling a little squeamish about the situation, I wandered around the house aimlessly as the two dogs hung out in the gated Garfield neighborhood yard. 

Talk about being present. Yeah, I was and am very present. Every noise every dog breath, everything was/is heightened. 

I call my dad "Oh yeah, everything is fine...I'm just getting used to the situation." I spilled a bit of cat food on the floor, which created some dog drama as Hana licked it up and Wasabi wasn't too happy he didn't get any. 

Breathe. Lots of deep breathing. 

I said I wanted some space. I said I wanted to do this. I said it would be a vacation. Right now, I'm definitely feeling the "I'm alone in a not so safe neighborhood, taking care of two dogs, one of which is not that cool with me. But, I have a hot tub, and I have a yoga room. And...and I have space." 

Careful what you wish for, couldn't feel more true right now. Both dogs are laying on my bed--I guess I won't be sleeping alone. I find a little comfort in that.

It was interesting to see and feel my first reactions to this comfort popping situation, and as I talked to my mom tonight she seemed remarkably more at ease with me here than I felt. "Oh sweetie, you'll be just fine. Call if you need anything, but enjoy this, you really deserve and need it." 

"I do..I do..." I think. 

I surprised myself with my first reactions. First, to try and calm Wasabi and to try and get him more comfortable with me, I immediately started singing, and to my surprise, it felt really really amazing, and the house felt a lot more alive and warm with music. So I sang and sang anything that came into my head, and I felt the energy of Wasabi calm down a bit. Grant it he's still not letting me pet him.

I was also really glad to have purchased that bottle of red  wine last night. One glass helped my nerves relax a bit. 

I didn't know where to eat, I sat down at the dinner table, but felt really out of place. So I decided to go upstairs. Plopped in Golden Compass and listened, but didn't pay any attention. Then I decided to check out the music collection. Tons of records lined the walls and cds were plentiful too. "What do I choose?" 

TLC popped out at me and I kind of danced around as I unpacked. Then let the dogs out, and wondered if I had done everything. As I worried a little bit about the dogs again "Did I do enough for them? Are they happy? Am I going to be good at this?" I realized that I was worrying too much, and that I really needed to do something that would let me express myself. 

So I'm writing. 

This feeling of living outside my comfort zone without anyone around, is new to me. So new to me that I really don't know how to get comfortable.  Everything is grabbing me, including the pain in my butt from sitting on this wood floor. "Oh well."

Typing with two dogs next to me and random car alarms going off outside has taken me outside my skin. 

Is this what it's going to be like to travel for those months that I'm planning? Yes. I believe so. 

Getting comfortable in my own skin has taken on a whole other meaning in a matter of hours. I am point blank face to face with everything. All my shit. All my fears right in front of my face--Wasabi. He can feel them all, therefore, he's not letting me get near him because he doesn't trust me. 

His ear right now is standing up perpendicular to his head. He's so anxious. I know it's not all me, but rather his parents being gone, but dogs have a sixth sense. I've never had a problem with any dog, but this one, he sure pushes my buttons and I push his. 

As I write in circles and tangents. I am beginning to realize that I have been stuck. Stuck in a very comfortable lifestyle that doesn't require me to really face certain things. 

These 10 days I can tell, are going to be powerfully revealing. 

I hope I am ready.

Now let's see if I can sleep. 5 am is sure not too far away.

You

I miss.

Planting Seeds

I took the carton of seeds labeled "munchkin tomatoes."  

I looked inside and saw little itty bitty specks...about as big as a pin head. 

My response, "Wow, how small a seed for such nourishing fruit."

I took 3 of the itty bittys and placed them in my little pot, covered them with some soil.

I said a prayer as I held the pot with the three munchkin seeds.

These seeds represented my newly set intentions and how with love and care, great and beautiful things can grow. 

Pouring a gentle trickle of water over the soil, I fed them. 

And then I fed myself.

Twisted Interlocking Warrior

There are moments when we suddenly realize, "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. This is really scary." Our heart races, we shake, scream, cry, stop, fall over, whatever...we have discovered something within that has caused us to want to run away. 

I had a "holy shit moment today" but instead of running away from it, I fell straight into...actually I was pushed smack into the wall of "holy shit." And really it is holy, because without it you would cease to discover something about yourself. 

Sweat running down every part of my body, breaths stuck in my stomach and my hip moaning for relief. I am twisted into Interlocking Warrior. My arms interlocking underneath my left leg at my lower back. Breathing up through my core into my heart, I feel it, I feel the "holy shit" and as it comes, my breath buckles...and my teacher, somehow sensing my "holy shitness" gently sticks her knee behind my back to balance me and pulls and directs me to breathe from my hip all the way up into my heart. As she does this I feel a pulsing sensation and my collar bone area and shoulder region sends out a scream, and the whole world inside my body comes out in tears. 

I am at my core, face to face with what I've been sensing throughout my body for the last two weeks. Me. I am face to face with me. She slowly lowers me to the ground. Her loving hands sending energy into my body that turn me into a puddle on my mat. Class continues, but I can feel everything, everything that I've been unable to recognize in the last few weeks in my throat--one huge rock of "holy shitness." As quietly as a child I let the tears come out, and breathe as best I can...

Managing to make it through the rest of class, I stumble home, the rock in my throat is ready to be thrown-up. I crawl beneath my comforter and smother the wails of something locked inside me with my pillows.

I am tired, tired of falling into patterns of ignoring. Ignoring what I need. Not requesting it. Not having what I need. I am tired of the fear that makes me buckle from doing what I need. 

For the first time in my life, I have a freedom and a grasp on who I am that I don't remember ever having since I was 8 spinning pirouettes in ballet class and playing tennis with my dad. For the first time in my life, I feel like I can't get enough space. There's no boyfriend, there's no crazy job, but there's this feeling that I can never have too much time with "me." 

As I've told many in the last few months, I'm having this tremendous love affair with myself. I love sleeping alone and I love the peace that I am able to find without anyone doing it for me. 

Now, I will admit, it's not always great, because I fight with myself, I fight with my fears, and I try to fight off the signs, that say "Anne, instead of going out tonight, you know how much you need some space to recharge." Being who I am, trying to do and see everyone, but lately, like today I can feel the toll it takes on me. 

Pop...I'm face down in my pillows wailing because I've ignored the tenacious pounding things that I need to work through. And I'm like "holy shit" I had no idea. 

I was talking to my friend Ruben the other day, explaining some stuff, and his reply couldn't have been more accurate or more needed. "Darling, you are a warrior princess. This is the path you've chosen. Sometimes the battlefield we do not choose. But from it all there are lessons."

Twisted interlocking Warrior, is definitely a test of strength and courage, even if it's merely an asana. But simple things are sometimes the best reflection of what we are fighting inside. 

headwaters of fear

The Mississippi started as a trickle in Itasca

I puddled through it

skipped rocks at its banks 

canoed down its trail

swam in its stream

ate fish from its waterbed

I feasted on the Mississippi's beginnings

with spirited laughter and a camper's hunger

Mark Twain gave me a different story of 

two boys adventuring through Hannibal

I spent an evening on a paddle boat

wondering where Huckleberry was

and wondering where the raft 

floated down the wide 

rustic river that is so very Mighty

The beginnings of the river

led to a now polluted river

its fish cannot be eaten in places

its waters can't be waded

its smell burns nose hairs

and Huckleberry and Sawyer

well, their raft will never sail again

The river's been infected

and it's Mightier than ever

Fear began in headwaters

much like the rocky trickle

that I played in 

Fear flooded the land

polluted peaceful villages

and spread across the world

in raucous oceanic waves

it's an epidemic 

Painting anxiety on people

with words of hyper energy

filling the holes of openness

engulfing children innocent to

anxiety but magnetized by energetic

shifts

Fear began as a trickle 

and as people clung to its

magnetic power

floating down with it

clinging to a life preserver

not knowing how to swim

not knowing how to settle

not knowing where to place

sandbags, not realizing the 

epidemic, not realizing the 

natural disaster that fear

would be

a virus that started as a

trickle,  blew up bombs

destroyed nations

obliterated cultures

eliminated species

polluted streams

and closed doors to peace

If there was one way to solve

world peace it would be to 

acknowledge fear, let it trickle

but build damns 

conserve its harboring forests

respect its power

dillute its poisonous watering holes

ration its food

respect its knowledge

meditate on its resolve

feed life with love and compassion

forgive

Forgive fear

without that we will forever be flooded

we will forever be chasing our tails

Crayola Blue Skies Umbrella Twilight

Just when you think your day has been full to the brim with unexpected things. There is always room for more.

After a long day huddled over my keyboard, frantically writing toward deadlines. Led Zeppelin cheering me on with his amazing guitar talents, chocolate cookies, and a bit of caffeine. I am torched. The focus and intensity have drained me. 

I walk through the revolving door out onto a rain glossed Wacker Drive. The fresh air hits me first with it's surprising warmth. Next comes the sound of the bus that sloshes puddles to the curb. Then the vibration of the EL. And I look up, first my eyes see the Wrigley clock, it's a minute before 8. I breathe in and my gaze goes skyward. I am taken aback as a rain drops hit my cheeks because instead of black or cloudy skies, my eyes are enveloped in blue. The blue you choose to color the sky with when there is no "sky blue." The blue of Crater Lake. The Blue of sapphires. 

I stop and stare upwards, as if I'm a tourist gawking at the skyline that borders the Chicago River and State Street. I cannot help but feel that this moment was worth the wait, worth the day's sweat and toil, worth another night of postponed climbing. 

I slowly puddle my way down the street, no umbrella, but loving the feel of water on my head. 

From my window

The yellow room lights up with sunlight and makes patterns on the white curtains. I bask in it and drink spicy chai while reacquainting myself with the world. Me and my laptop, the sun, a hot cup of chai, and lots of warm blankets greet this Sunday morning with openness. 

As I look up from my email and my facebook wanderings I catch glimpses of runners trotting pass; I can hear their exhales and feel the earth shake a little bit as they pass. I always think it's interesting that even though I'm inside I can still distinctly hear the world outside. Many a night and morning I will just listen to it. 

Secretly I am spying through these windows of mine. Observing the path that so many take that crosses right in front of my eyes in earshot. The green shrubs and the big evergreen have grown very tall so that my peeping view is smaller than in the past. Now I only see the color of the car and the top of a runner's head. 

Little girls are singing the Alleluia on their way home from church. Their voices stream in with joy. It didn't matter that I couldn't see them, I could tell they were happy. Happy to be singing on this beautiful day. 

When I listen closely to the cars I can feel the energy of their pace. Sometimes I feel a tension rise up as they zoom by. Everyone so in a hurry to get somewhere. To be somewhere. To not be fast enough to get there. Hurry Hurry Hurry. The noise of hurry is not one that entices me. And it's a noise that I do not like to portray, although it's difficult when you're surrounded by it. Hurrying is not really that effective. That's all I got to say. 

It disturbs the nervous system flooding your brain with thoughts of "come on, go faster, I need to be there in 5 minutes, honking horns." Just by writing those thoughts I immediately feel a string of tension thread through my spine.

Things can wait. Knowing that it's your responsibility to take care of yourself and how and when you arrive somewhere makes hurrying even more personally damaging. Face it, if you're late, you're late. Apologize and face up to your responsibility, but it won't help to rush. Rushing just exacerbates the problem and turns you into a tizzy.

"Non-hurrying" practice is one that has instilled a lot more patience in me and with life. Waiting in lines becomes more enjoyable, because you stop the thought pattern of "Oh my goodness this line is moving so slow...they should really have some more people working here." Instead, (this happened to me in an airport security line) see what and who is around you, observe and maybe start a conversation. Really you're all in the same boat and you've all been given a chance to learn something from someone that you may never have met. 30 minutes flies by in a heartbeat and you aren't so gosh darn annoyed. Annoyance is just a waste of energy, more so than waiting in line. :-)

A couple walks by their faces highlighted by the sun. They are enjoying their path. My roommates' DVD plays loudly from her room. She coughs consistently. Sickness persists even when you don't want it to. A sign of weakness in the body, a sign of vulnerability, a sign of unbalance. 

The day has begun the world outside is calmly laying down it's journey for the day. I snuggle deeper under the blankets and enjoy the solitude and stillness. Paying attention to the fatigue of my body--very sore abs and hips from yesterday's asana practice--I let things slow down. 

27

Dark chocolate infested with ginger
4 bowls of Lucky Charms
IM chats with Ruben in Costa Rica
Dinner with the best roommates
My first Spanish Lesson
Yoga with Steve
Messages from friends around the world
Netflix before midnight
parents in Chicago
Thai food and Sushi
a vegan peanut butter chocolate cupcake

Adventure brewing
Happiness surrounding
Peace in my heart
I embark on my 28th year with hope and love

Chocolate, Hard Work & A Walk Down the Magnificent Mile

When there's nothing to worry about, but the typing of my fingers or the speed of my creativity. I become overwhelmingly giddy and goofy. And when a deadline is hours away and I know I'm going to work until I get loopy, I become uncontrollably weird. So weird that I buy chocolate eat it and then spin around in my chair until I'm dizzy. Then as if on cue I dance in front of each person in my dept and offer chocolate and a personalized dance move.

Sometimes the stress level is so high I can feel its thickness. I have come to recognize the frosting of stress and cut it with laughter rather than falling into its crypt.

Creative people do not do well in certain situations, and they definitely do not do well when they are being leashed and tied up like a dog outside a really awesome restaurant. Creative people need fresh air, lots of color, humor, and in my case space to move.

Movement is essential for creativity. So much so, that I sometimes do headstands in my cube, or strut down the hallway with high kicks and kung fu punches. Creativity for me is about moving out all the junk to get to the good stuff. The physicality is essential. More for me to release the control that my brain so often traps me in. The control of perfection is what I've come to recognize. When I'm in that place--it's in many ways a day of doom. Forget getting me to write anything short of crap.

Since I work in a field where judgment is constant, it is essential that I do not judge, but rather associate. What does that mean? Well I'm still learning how to practice what I call "association," but what I've discovered is that it's very abstract and requires nothing of the brain but more of what many people refer to as "the gut." As soon as the brain makes the move, Screwage. You're doomed, because ultimately you'll be plagued with taking the project too personal no matter if it's good or bad. You're doomed because it's suddenly become about you. Or as I should say "me."

Association with intuitiveness is a much more...hmmm...selfless act of creativity. Mark me, it does not mean that you can't "enjoy" or have "fond feelings" for your work, but it cannot be the ultimate reason for doing your work. Rather the work just "comes" and works the way it works because it was inspired to do so.

In essence everything that is creative needs to be "spiritually" driven. Now, I do not mean "religious." But I do mean "spirit." The incorporeal part--the part that is not driven by our brains. The brain does nothing for creativity but cloud. Well, that's not entirely true, but 95% true. The brain provides memory, but memory is still rooted in the incorporeal part.

Delicious. Creativity is so delicious. When you're in it, you're in it and there's nothing else. It's presence personified--Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel, the Golden Gate Bridge, a Shakespearean sonnet, Tosca...Nature is a perfect example of creativity. And well, to "create" means to be creative. ...

Tonight after being drained from the thickness of stress that surrounded me and eventually clouded a lot of my presence. I walked. I walked for blocks. I contemplated walking all the way home, but I was hot. It was 60 degrees out and I was wearing a wool coat and my wool fleeced boots. I walked as far as I could down Michigan Avenue. Breathing in the air of the city, relaxing into the darkness and staring up at the clouds that were backlit by the bright towers that balanced around me.

In my head I went to Cahuita, Costa Rica to clear away the claustrophobicness that I was experiencing. I felt the ocean breeze through the stale air of the taxi-driven streets, I felt the energy of the stars, although the lights were from the offices and storefronts around me, I heard the birds in the ambulance sirens, and I saw the ocean in the frozen lake.

I smiled and felt the energy of the city. For the first time in two weeks I felt an energy that wasn't weak, but one that was full of hope. It was on the faces of the people, and it was in the pace of the cars. Things felt slower. The weather must have brought out the warmth and the hope that "Spring will birth new things."

Spring is the time of creativity. The time to plant new seeds, the time to fertilize dreams, and the time to let the cold mourning winter go.

Where we walk there is a path. Where we work there is an energy. Where we are is right here.
Where we create we are present.

My Costa Rica

From my journal entry Feb 22, 2009

A parrot sits sipping sweet coffee out of Marcelo's coffee cup. Nibbling on Marcelo's ear, the parrot friend coos as he samples dessert after sweet coffee and nuts. The hungry green feathered friend with a red forehead can't stop enjoying the generosity of Marcelo and his compadres.

The wind chime's melody dances with the percussive folding of the waves, and the chirping of the birds backs up the mellow improvisations that the wind makes when rippling the pipes into a purposeful pattern of perfection.

In a country where blue and green create harmony in every space, people feel joy next to the jungle where creatures hide and surprise the passer-bys in dark hours with a brush of leaves or a hoot from high above.

There is a melody in every moment, spirit in every breath. Prana, the life force, beauty inhaled and exhaled immortal feeding mortal for now and evermore. Peace, purposeful and poignant in people and in place, personified pools of blue and green.

Oh, Costa Rica, a rich coast of energy from spirit, may we meet again as the moon rises and falls and brings in the tides of change. Bless me forever more my blissful beach jungle land.

Anne

What do you want to be when you grow up?

The question "What do you want to be when you grow up?" is one that has forever been rooted in the American psyche. A question that once seemed so innocent and inspired by imagination, but which somehow steamrolls out of control in your mid teens as your hormones lash out at you and destroy the balance of your ecosystem.

Suddenly you have no idea who you are let alone what you want to be and the pressure to discover the answer creates an unbearable amount of strain on your emotional and intellectual belief in yourself. And many times you fall. Or, begin embarking down the road of self-destruction because somewhere along the lines these questions "What do you want to be?" and "Who am I?" become an assumed necessary responsibility.

You search for the RIGHT answer day in and day out, and many times you lose yourself in depression, anxiety, addictions, and other self destructive behaviors that ultimately blind you from enjoying "Who you are and where you are at the moment."

I have always wanted to be a great many things, but the funniest and awesomest thing is that everything "I thought I wanted to be"turned into something better than a "job title".
Age 3: brain surgeon
Age 7: ballerina and art teacher
Age 14: actor/model
Age 16: doctor
Age 18: professional clarinetist
Age 22: editor
Age 26: happy

At the moment, I am happy and somewhere in the last two years I stopped associating "What I want to be with who I am." Freedom and inspiration followed as soon as I stopped boxing myself in.

The other day an associate who was having a hard day, said to me, "You're always so God damn happy. I don't get that. You're always laughing."

I wanted to say a lot, but instead I just smiled at him and said. "It's a choice."

Yes crap happens, but as soon as you let go of trying to "control" everything and everyone. You discover how freaking amazing things can be and how freaking amazing you are and the power that you have to take on challenges that are really freaking painful.

So as I learn to appreciate and accept that I am not definable by a category, and that "Who I am" is not a question that needs an answer. I am able to acknowledge that I am a powerful being whose talents are to be used to show love, gratitude, and compassion for people and experiences that occur along the trail of life.

Life doesn't have a pause button, it's happening right now and you are who you need to be right now. No translations necessary.

A funeral

The circle is strong, sacred

Breath takes transcendence against the waves

his smile strengthens what I'm about to do

Words unspoken pour down in sync with tears

The circle holds me in presence

Fire cracks and I throw the anger into the fire

It dances in smoke and releases into air sucked into the jungle

absorbed by the trees and the plants, balancing

He is very close transposed against this jungle 

Grieving and loving

He helps me feed this fire with peace

as I energetically cut my ties

I free him, I free me

Love energetically lifting the boughs of darkness

I offer him peace

I let go

The fire cracks

I open my eyes

Silence

The circle holds

Bending Backwards

you take me in your hands and breathe

whispering "I've got you" 

I bend 

slowly

backwards

you hold me

my heart

screams through my ribs

breath entering space

closed in darkness

you 

take me farther

heart racing

mind fearing

you guiding  

with calm breath

tears rain down my cheeks

the storm outside mimicks my howling heart

inhale

exhale

trust given

darkness fills with light 

between my collar bones

connecting me

heart

voice

intellect

20 breaths

energy released

distance discovered

Gratitude offered 

you teach through touch

to open space for more

Ruben

My last day and night in Cahuita touched my heart in many different ways. I think that is why I'm struggling to adjust, I miss the people that taught me so much in a very short amount of time. Each one of these people deserves their own poem, their own blog, their own story to be told honestly and beautifully. I dare to tread those waters.

One man in particular touched my heart. It was not so much his words, his actions, or his image. It was his spirit. There were no barriers, no extraneous words, his silence was communicative and his smile was one that remains imprinted upon my heart.

Randomly and purposefully the universe connected us. Aloca unexpectedly showed up when Sabine and Magnus and I were eating dinner Sunday night and a man about my height wearing his hair up in a bun like Aloca (which I will write more about later) walked in with two bags of fruit. His smile was infectious, or maybe it was my smile. Whatever it was, there was an instantaneous amount of joy. It was as I so often say "instantaneous friendship."

I was caught off guard and forgot his name as soon as I met him. 20 minutes into conversation, I apologetically requested his name. "Ruben."

As the time flew by and the taxi driver interrupted our conversation--Sabine, Magnus, and I had asked him to pick us up 2 hours since we arrived. "Excuse me, did you still want a lift?" he asked.

I was shocked back into the environment of time and the 5 of us quickly paid the bill and crowded into the cab and spent the next 2 hours listening to a local Reggae band. All the time Ruben's energy and stories were teaching me inarticulable things.

Growing up in Moravia San Jose, Ruben gave me a better grasp on the country that so eagerly engulfed me with beauty and energetic love. He came to Cahuita to write a documentary about the history of politics and international economic relations of Costa Rica with the United States and the United Kingdom. And as I write he has begun writing his story.

Sentences do not describe Ruben, I really think music is the only way to capture his spirit.

The night drifted into jungle and as Aloca and Ruben walked us back to La Diosa. I was very sad that I had to leave in less then a few hours. But was grateful to have been given a few hours inspired to once again be reminded of me and the wisdom of connections made in journeying down a path that sometimes seems full of potholes, detours, and dead ends.

So today as I felt silent and homesick for a place that taught me love, forgiveness, and strength in it's beauty and in it's people, I received a message. A message that reminded me to "pay attention."

I could not have written a better message, nor do I think the message was merely from Ruben, but from something bigger. Because I needed to hear them.


"It was proven that the Universe is to be trusted with clarity, wisdom and joy in the wider sense of love that holds the balance of our planet Earth. Also, the proof that Karma laws work in every decision that we make and its manifestations are given to us in ways sometimes we cannot even imagine, but once you've known where the dots are connected there is nothing left but a great joy and reverence towards life and others."

There's nothing more to say other than Ruben was a very unexpected messenger, and an unexpected friend. And my gratitude for what he taught me about me cannot be expressed. At least, I am at a loss for words.

Pay attention, you don't want to miss anything.

Dear White Faced Monkey,

We met a week ago in the jungle. You were flying amongst the branches dangerously close to my head. And you attacked a random Cahuitian chica.

My curiosity begs me to ask several questions about your life and your random attack. And, if I can be of any service to your peace of mind, I will gladly inspire a clan of monkey-peace followers. 

I can only imagine how us opposable-thumbed mammals cause jealousy. But let me say this, we opposable-thumbed mammals are just as jealous because we are not able to have your agility and fearlessness when facing heights. 

So, maybe there is still a chance to find a bit of understanding in our mammalian blood to stop the "monkey business" and enjoy more harmonic hiking in the Cahuita National Park.

That leads me to a series of questions that will help the court understand your random attack on the Cahuitian chica. She suffered dearly. Internal bleeding, stitches, and had to undergo a series of rabies shots. You are being charged with second degree murder.

Seriously monkey, how did she bring about such violence? Was her smiling taunts of "Oh isn't she cute..." aggravating? Was she sleeping with your mate? Did she just look so good, you had to have some? Was she carrying bananas? Are you a vampire monkey?

I apologize if my questions are too personal. You do have the right to a non-opposable thumbed lawyer, but the 5th amendment does not apply. Actually...the 5th amendment is irrelevant because we were nowhere near the USA.

Oh my white faced monkey friend, I can only hope you and I are able to negotiate a peaceful ceasefire between our biological differences in thumbs. If you need an ear to listen, or a place to escape for a bit, I am here for you. 

May we meet again.

Your opposable-thumbed friend

Costa Rica Epic: A few Poems to begin with

I'm so tired at the present moment. I cannot sleep because I miss the sound of the jungle and I miss the warmth of the jungle air and the rain that pours down to cleanse and feed the soul of earth.

I returned from my 10 day sabbatical in Costa Rica very very early this morning, and all I can think about and feel is the spirit of a place that brought me so much healing and peace. A journey that I will forever feel everyday for the rest of my life.

This is just the beginning of several entries about my trip, but I am burning up with the desire to write even though the energy in my eyes and fingers is very low. I feel my writing is fatigued so I will share a few poems from one of the last nights of my trip.

Connection

Where there is connection
there is truth
there are teachers
there are friends
there is wisdom

Connection requires no more
than a minute second
a sheer glance at the right angle

Connection is electric
satisfying all elements

Connection is sacred
never developed
but ignited and earned

Journey is about connection
There is a path in front of us
Each connection aligns us with that path


*******

A Sloth's Lesson

balance bends

baby sloths hold on
treading treachery
through trees
towering toward sky

we gather with bended heads
to treat love as a mystery
and celebrate its blessings

balance bends

motion creates
balance where it's
needed the most

****
Vortex

There
high in a tree
crickets sing tweedle dee

tonight you hugged
beckoning for warmth and connection
thirsty
for my energy
you gulped the boltage

I channeled from beyond
for a refill of my own

Laughter

Today I got to see my friend Emily use a Bobcat to the sound of the chicken dance.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P2fEHtzx-C4

Emily is my saving grace lately. She has been my laugh sastisfier. You have to understand that if I do not laugh, I go nuts at the smallest things. Like today, I was so hit over the head with how awesome it was to be back at work after being sick for what seemed "forever." Everything was funny. And at one point, I started crying for no apparent reason because I was laughing at nothing. Then everyone started laughing, and the contagion spread and the world felt lighter.

I need to laugh like I need to breathe. If you know me, you know that you will not be compatible as a friend or lover unless you can make me laugh. (Believe me it doesn't take much, but if you don't have a sense of humor. Forget it.)

When I was little, one of the first movies I saw was "Fatso," and my dad to this day still says that he'll never forget that sound of me roaring. I'm a loud belly laugher.

In tennis, for silly awards, I won the "loudest laugher" award, because you could hear me all the way across 16 tennis courts and my friends in cross country could hear me as they did sprints around the track.

I tend to laugh at random stupid things, really witty things, really dirty things, or myself. I actually think I am the funniest thing ever created because I'm so gosh darn strange and random. I also think it's because I've had to entertain myself for as long as I can remember--that's the only child part coming out.

When I'm really depressed and crying I'll start laughing hysterically. I think it's a trained response because I think it's so hilarious what hysterical noises I make when I'm crying. I also think it's because I'll try to think of something funny to snap out of the insanity. My dad would always come into my bedroom and slam the door in his face--I'd be in roars within seconds.

My dad is the funniest man I know. Although, I do take him too seriously at times. But if you've ever met my dad, you'll know where I get my crazy sense of humor. And my "roll with the punches" attitude. I learned it from the best.

Laughter I believe is one of the best ways to say "I love you." It's the purest form and it does not hold expectations or a negative connotation unless what you're laughing at is for "vicious wicked witch of the west" reasons. Bottom line, humor me. :) I know I can crack myself up, but I really hope you can do it just as well.

I'm not one to crack jokes--I'm actually really bad at telling jokes and that's usually what cracks me up. I'll start laughing while telling the joke. Haha...

There is a quota of a minimum of 35 minutes of laughing/day that tested by fellow Anne laugheteers that I must consume. If 35 minutes has not been met I am going to be a bit crazy. :)

Emily, however, seems to have upped the ante to 70 minutes, but I don't know if that's her or my new found love of the internal ab workout. This workout, I've discovered, can only be achieved through crazy yoga breathing techniques and laughter. :) Rolling your belly in unusual ways is fun, but I'd rather laugh. :)

Hi, I'm Anne, I'm a laughaholic.

3d

I went and saw Coraline last night. I got to wear the cool 3d glasses and watch things pop out from the movie screen. I haven't done that since my visit to Epcot Center when I was 5!

But what I realized while watching the movie is that 3d is different for everyone in life. Not everything pops out at us. I'd like to make the really stereotypical analogy of a woman in a crowded bar looking for the man of her dreams. She looks around and certain things pop out "That man smokes. Gross." "He's too fat (big belly bulging)." "Player (guy who's surrounded by a lot of women)." And then there's those instances when the whole man pops and her girlfriends hear her say "Oh my God...look at that guy." She may or may not have met her match but something from her perspective gave her that 3d element. He popped off the screen.

Of course we are 3d human beings but the coolest part about the 3d art form is that the artist is able to tell you what is significant in what oftentimes appears to be a 2 dimensional dreamworld. I will admit that I enjoyed Coraline for the fact that I felt like I was inspired by the creativity of the animation and the 3d idea that brought me to the position of typing about it on a Sunday morning.

We all have things that pop out in our life and I think the poignancy of realizing what is 3d is important to be aware of. There's a story there. There's a compass there. There's a path to be followed. So whether you are a Wall Street investment banker, a composer, a writer, an illustrator, a grocery clerk, a plumber, or even an independently wealthy person it's important to pay attention to what "grabs" you.

When I look at my life, I've noticed that "popping" is really important. If something doesn't pop--and I mean that in the most literal of senses (including the mysterious balloon popping)--I tend to turn a different direction or feel let down. Hmmm...so there is something to be argued with that point related to expectations and presence...but I would like to take a 2d approach to what I'm saying. I do not mean to disregard presence because it is presence that makes things pop, and I do not mean to deny the fact that expectations have an impact on what you "think" will pop.

Putting that aside...my intuition about certain perspectives have determined many life changes. I've fallen in love. I've moved to Chicago. I've traveled. I've jumped off waterfalls. I've climbed very tall rocks. I've made lifelong friendships. I've gotten lost only to find something very beautiful. I've won competitions. I've learned how to say "no." All of these things I've learned and lived through a 3d experience of sorts.

Now mind me, the little things in life are the most precious but sometimes you must pay a bit more attention to catch them. :)

chocolate chip cookies, cups of tea, a smile from a stranger, a butterfly, laughter, an unexpected hug, kisses, music drifting from a lone apartment building, the sound of OM...the list goes on but all of these are part of living in 3d

And I guess I must not exclude the fact that living in 3d is not about honeysuckles and sweet flavors and smells, but actually the most 3d experiences are the ones that hurt. But from this hurt beautiful thing grow as I like to say. "From shit, flowers grow." Loving shit is as important as loving flowers there is no possibility of having one without the other. Unless maybe you are an earthworm...

So I must end the clock is popping out at me calling me to yoga. First day back since being sick.

Blind Belay

When he said
“I hope you never get over him.”
I thought
“I never will”
When he said
“Some people never get that chance”
I said
“I know”
When he said
“I mean it”
I thought
“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about”
When he said
“What’s wrong with you?”
I said
“Are you serious?” “You don’t have any idea.”
When he said
“You should have tried harder”
I thought
“Go fuck yourself”
I just laughed and said
“Whatever dude…”
When he said
“Well these are the things we talk lightheartedly over while having a beer, but really we don’t get over stuff that easy.”
I laughed
He wasn’t worth my time
And said
“Sometimes people belay blind”

Miami Transit

Take a deep breath
Exhale
and you’re beyond the border
Beyond sleep
Beyond dreams
In the motion of movement
In tune with a cornucopia of sound
The energy stimulates the sleepiest
Dropping caffeinated rhythms
As the air fills with electric sex
And tumultuous beats prevail
Smoke inebriated motions
Cast spells over my body
Spilling from my toes in short
Staccato stiletto rivets
Making way into my hips
Swirling the digital motion seen
In comic books of Supergirl
Seducing my torso into
Rainbows of dips
My hands alone clutch
The electrified air
The feeling of life pouring
Down my face and filling
My lungs with intoxicating
Enticing moments where
Nothing matters but
The beat in my feet
Mixed with the lights
Dancing on me
No pain just movement
lust pours in
Motion without a moments warning
Hands fill my palms with stickiness
I follow letting the musicians guide
Faster quicker slower
Undulating underneath the careening
Trombone and rapper
Thirsty for more, more movement
Free me from the bondage
The chains of intoxicating pain
There, my toes staccato
Spinning freely
Cascading through the smoke
A silhouette of a man leading me
I’m unaware
All I feel is the movement
The freedom of being part of the energy
“Bonita” a word
Flattering, not digested
Only the motion of bonding with
Energy that is so toxic
I am not human
I am motion
Motion of connectivity
The simplest motion
The slightest eye contact
Wildness everywhere
Heat, intensity, crazy
There’s nothing but now
And the liberation of being
Caught
Caught in the grasp of
Nature’s rhythm
The motion of life
In transit

Disclaimer

I will never be perfect. I will never have a perfectly written blog. But I will thank you for catching my imperfections and will be happy to oblige you with edits. :)

Pink Eye

To tell a story requires insight on something interesting, right?

Perhaps. I beg to raise the question that perhaps every story is really not that insightful but rather a necessary energy release of built up chaos which manifested itself into something a writer of any sort calls "inspirational noise."

Hmm...perhaps.

My default as a writer is the period. The period in punctuation and the period in which I may have the slightest chance of writing anything that really seems to resemble something other than chaotic noise etched in digital space.

Right now, my perspective of inspiration comes from two swollen puffy eyes that require eyedrops to heal. I am in some degree seeing things a little more "pinkly" and perhaps taking the risk of writing about the "pinkly" side of this moment I call "couch potato, lemon tea, snot nose blowing, atrophying musculature, healing time." It has inevitably allowed me to start this "blog" of sorts and encourage me to stop holding the "period" as both a punctuated end to my beginning of writing and as a punctuated beginning to the energetic inspirational rip of digital typing about my life here in this space I call "Anne."

Me, myself, and I like to think that looking at things in different ways creates a little more entertaining story. Today it's easy because all I can hear is the echo of my breath and the cacophonous coughing in my congested head...oh and yes things look a bit more "pinkly." Ha...

Being sick has always been a unique perspective. Ah yes...that word again "perspective". What does she mean? Why that as her blog? It seems so obvious, right? Well aren't the best things in life obvious? And don't you find the things you've been looking for in your life as "obvious" once you find them? My point is that you chose your perspective. That's why art is so damn cool. You can't create the same perspective on anything no matter how hard you try.

Ok...ok...I will stop with my tangentitzed writing. I've never been one to write in linearity. I never know what is going to come out. Therefore my perspective in written form is always "me at the present moment." As soon as that alters...I have to stop writing because then I'm really just writing bs.

Today's perspective is brought to you by "pink eye" it's not only a child's dirty poop infested finger, but perhaps a little extra shit just got stuck in my eye on accident--don't know where it came from. Let's hope you don't catch it.

Quote of the day comes from "The Alchemist" which I am currently reading in preparation for my Costa Rican yoga retreat in a week! More to come later...

"I don't live in either my past or my future. I'm interested only in the present. If you can concentrate always on the present, you'll be a happy man. Life will be a party for you, a grand festival, because life is the moment we're living now."