mystic_savage

I left the house today at 2:00 and took the bus to Traveler's.  I was to meet Chuck at 4:30 at the convention center, and wanted to groove around downtown for a bit before I went.  So:  I wore my lucky vest, and went to Traveler's (which is always lucky) and drank a cup of their chai (which is beyond luck -- it's actually magic, that chai).  I sat there and soaked up the atmosphere for awhile and went into the shop part of the store and looked around, not needing to buy anything but just happy to be there.  Exchanged a few words with Liam, the proprietor, who recognized me although he doesn't really know my name.  But we have a distantly pleasant relationship and I like him a lot.  Left Traveler's and went around the block to Babes in Toyland and then to Edge of the Circle.  Again, no need to buy anything.  In fact, in Edge of the Circle I looked at all the magic books and all the spirituality books and just had this moment of recognition that after thirty years of reading about all that stuff, I'm really tired of reading about it.  So I left and continued down the hill.  Stopped in at a furniture store that I'd never been in and had no intention of staying in, but was there for quite awhile because they didn't have just furniture, but also really cool candles and fans and desktop fru-frus and cool greeting cards.  It was a good place to explore.  Stopped in at a coffee shop, Uncle Elizabeth's, which I pass on the bus every morning and have always been curious about.  It's one of those places that's cooler on the outside than the inside, and I won't need to go back again, but it was a good place to spend ten minutes and the espresso, while nothing to write home about, wasn't too bad.  Continued down the hill.

Got to the convention center about an hour early, so headed up to the lobby on the second floor and hung out and read.  The security guard passed me once but decided I was well dressed enough he wouldn't hassle me (although I didn't have a convention badge).  I'm reading "Digging to America" by Anne Tyler and it's really good.  Went down to the meeting place with about ten minutes to spare and didn't have to wait too long for Chuck.  And had a very, very happy time catching up with him.

We sat and talked for a minute or two and then walked toward Wild Ginger, where we were seated at Table 9, which, as it turns out, is the same table I've been seated at the last two times I've been there.  Wild Ginger isn't a small place -- it has easily -- what?  40? 50? tables...more?  So it's quite a coincidence to be at this wonderful booth where I have good memories.  Chuck and I had a good meal -- a tuna thing and a chicken thing and a wonderful bok choi thing, and I had a mango daquiri and a vicodin and the conversation was mellow and loving and interesting and as always when I'm with Chuck I fell in love with him.  It's impossible not to.  I defy anybody to spend an hour or two with Chuck and not fall in love with him.  I don't think it's possible.  It's not that he's terribly suave--in fact, he's not.  He's sincere and has integrity and he's thoughtful and there's just something undeniably super wonderful about him.   After dinner, we walked to Bartell's where he picked up some headache medicine and I shopped for makeup and chatted with the clerk about skin care products.  Her secret is to mix baby oil with grains of sugar.  Mine is oatmeal.  Her name was Amy.  We had a great conversation, enhanced no doubt by my general feeling of well-being from being with Chuck and feeling like we're in a good place with each other.

So...we walked toward my bus stop and kissed a little bit while waiting for the bus, and I gave money to a guy whose sign said he just wanted money for pot, and money to my favorite busker (a drummer who is often outside of Nordstrom's at rush hour--the blond guy with the beard who plays a variety of drums and rhythms from different parts of the world and is pretty damn good.  Also, he looks like Jesus.  The blond Jesus.) And after another fifteen minutes, my bus came and I kissed Chuck good bye.  It was the perfect Saturday afternoon/early evening date.

I ran into Frances and Anna on the bus and we talked about writing and work parties and cohousing until we got to Duwamish.  Disembarked and walked with them through the community,  and found myself at Kevin's house with Kevin and the kids, sharing the lovely biscotti Chuck had brought me with them, and talking about family stuff with Penny and Sar.  Kevin and I are on the same page with parenting more and more these days.  It helps, I think, that the kids always make it pretty evident to us when things aren't good for them (eg, too much tv).  Anyway, made a plan for hanging out with them tomorrow and that was a wonderful cap to the evening.  Got back home around 8 pm, and am now updating this before I do my creative writing for the night. 

Love to all !

V.

This is our household FAQ, still in its draft stages.  James & Karen & I have been working on it for the past few days.  I've lived here since last September and though we started as mostly renter/landlords and friends, we've become more intentional as a community.  I'm excited by how many of our values we share in common, and by how well things have been working so far (knock on wood).  So, yeah, for those interested, here it is.  

What is Dragon House?
Dragon House is our home.  We are currently two nuclear families assembled into one chosen extended family.  Full or part-time residents are 3 adults and six children.  Dragon House is also the way we extend our home and family to others in our circle.  Our honorary members are people who choose to contribute to our household by eating, working and playing with us.     

Why dragons?
Dragons in most traditions are fierce guardians of that which has value.  Particularly in the Eastern traditions, dragons are guardians of people, land, and wisdom.  They make terrific friends, but it is unwise to seriously piss them off (for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.)  Dragons are long-lived and have wings, letting them look at problems with the perspective of distance in both time and space. They are often introverts, living in solitary caves, but can also be extroverts in flights of dozens or hundreds of dragons.  They shift shape and model flexibility and situational appropriateness. 

The dragon's strength and ability to fly is related to its flame.  In Dragon House we are deeply aware of and respectful of the power of human flame, anger.  When wielded wisely and carefully controlled, anger is a source of power that we respect as a force for good.  However, we are also deeply aware of the destructive power of uncontrolled rage.  In Dragon House we strive to have the loyalty, the wisdom, and the perspective of dragons.  We also strive to avoid the destructive aspects of fire and strive to keep our flames well bounded as a source of light, life, and flight.  And cooking!  We dragons are into good food.

What are our interpersonal values?
We value and try to model for each other self-awareness, clear communication, effective problem-solving, respecting personal boundaries and courtesy.  In addition, adults are expected to back each other up when interacting with children and manage significant disagreements with each other in private.  Both residents and visitors are encouraged to ask questions about why we choose to do things a particular way and whether that is really serving our highest goals and interests.

How does our home work?
The house is owned and the mortgage is paid by James and Karen.  Other adults (that would be me right now) pay rent.  Karen is the full-time kid wrangler and house manager.  All members of the household contribute to the household by doing chores.  We strive for "a labeled place for everything and please return it to that place after you are finished using it."  (Sometimes we actually achieve this goal).  When possible, house rules are written and posted.  In general, rules apply equally to children and adults (ie:  kids can remind adults to clear their place after dinner too).  A rather impressive food pantry is kept in common and most meals are prepared and served in common.  Silent hours are midnight to 6am (a running washing machine is fine, cleaning the kitchen is not).  Quiet hours are 8pm to 8am (cleaning the kitchen is okay:  power tools are not).  Theoretically, breakfast is served at 8:30, dinner is served at 6:00, and lunch is sometime in between. 

What do we hope for ourselves as a household?
We try to be a safe haven for people of all ages, from adult friends who need a crash space for a couple nights to neighborhood children who have accidentally locked themselves out of their house.  We value slow living, recognizing what "enough" is, and questioning the dominant culture to determine what is authentic for us. We explore deep sustainability in very human terms, seeking to support the development of a culture that is healthy for body, soul, planet, and wallet.  We model our household values and lifestyle to visitors, especially children, many of whom have no previous experience with homemade bread, raspberries that can be picked in the backyard, and clearly articulated values and boundaries.

 What is our house motto?"Light a damn candle" (or in Vulcan:  Tanilau ta'hal; wafu ornat, which is literally "Provide illumination despite irritation").

Translation:  It is better to light a candle than curse the darkness.  However, we acknowledge that sometimes we may occasionally light that candle with a great deal of annoyance.

I'd like to learn how to love without either a) trying to find constant distraction in a partner, or b) trying to find constant comfort with a partner.  I'd like to trust life, live it without looking at the constant act of breathing as a struggle.  And I don't.  Trust life, that is.  Suspect that if I could, the loving without seeking rescue or entertainment -- that would just happen. 

The workshop I did in Colorado was about expanding consciousness and then somehow taking that expanded consciousness back to your daily life and incorporating it.  The expansion itself was challenging. We worked on moving from an "I" centered viewpoint to a "we" centered viewpoint without losing the "I".  I am conscious as I write this of the tribe that I developed there, wondering what Cynthia's doing today; whether Atma and Dana made it to Durango yesterday; how Paul is; what Karen and Gregg talked about as they drove back down to Florida.

The most difficult thing for me during the earliest part of the week was the impending divorce and the move tomorrow and the anger & grief I found as soon as I was a safe distance from home.  The most difficult thing for me as the week moved on was struggling with parent/child dynamics (my father taught the workshop and my mother assisted) and also feeling like some of the meditation techniques were a huge stretch.

Most of the people in the workshop had been doing Corestar work for years.  Most of them were graduates of the 3-year program, and many of them were teachers, either at Corestar or in other energy healing modalities.  I've had the introductory workshop, a 1 day affair, and I've talked to my father during his 18 year journey through the Barbara Brennan School,  through writing his book, through establishing first his healing practice and then his own schoool.  I knew a lot more than I thought I knew (a self-chelation, for example, was not hard--was one of the first things he taught me to do).  And I was familiar enough with the language and systems of Corestar to follow all the information about the 8th, 9th, 10th & 11th levels of the field.  But the meditation practice -- the energy work itself -- that was a stretch, and well-worth the workshop time all on its own.

There is more--a lot more, but I don't have time/space to write it here.  Mostly at this point I'm wondering how to incorporate this stuff in my daily life; how to live it and model it -- particularly during the next two days, when I feel like I'm going to need it the most.  So.  that's the recap (such as it is).  If you want to take me out to coffee or feed me dinner and hear more, email me at mysticsavage at gmail.com.

Love,

Virginia

I do clerical work at a hospital right now and this morning I was downstairs and ran into one of my friends from the downtown bus-stop.  We talk sometimes while we are waiting for the bus.  She doesn't speak much english (she's from Africa) and she's always wrangling these twin 5-year-old boys and I think she must be fairly alone.  So we talk at the bus-stop once in awhile and she practices english and I try to learn even a few phrases of Meru. 

I ran into her downstairs.  She was lost, wandering around with one of her boys (who was dressed in hospital garb) and she looked a bit frightened.  When she saw me, her face lit up and she hugged me and I hugged her back and then I helped her find the right elevator to her floor. 

Later today, I was down by the elevator on the ground floor and as I was approaching the elevators I saw a very frustrated man in a wheelchair. His wife was trying to placate him.  I asked how long they'd been waiting, and they said they'd been bypassed by two full elevators already and had been down there ten minutes.  At that moment I noticed the door to the freight elevator open in the hallway to the side of the main elevator bank, and I ran over there to stop it and hold the door open for them so that they could ride the freight elevator up to their floor.  It seemed to defuse the situation.

Returning to wait for the main elevator, I was joined first by a teenage girl in a wheelchair with an IV attached.  She wore a neck brace and had crookedly bent hands and one leg in a cast from her ankle as far up as I could see.  A minute later, a guy in a wheelchair joined us.  He was wearing shorts and had some raw skin rubbed off of his thigh.  The girl asked about if it was a burn.

"Nope," the guy said, "This is where they took the skin to put on my shoulder and on this foot".  He pointed.  She kind of blanched.  He was missing a finger.  He continued to talk.  "They also took this finger and this leg."

"Oh," she said.  "I'm sorry."

"I'm not," he said.  "I'm alive!  And I got something too!"  He seemed to be enjoying the conversation.  "I took 1500 volts electricity from Seattle City Light." 

"Wow," I said.

"Yup," he said, "And it was free!"  The elevator came then and he continued to joke with me all the way up to the 7th floor. 

Another conversation: most days  I stop to talk to L, one of the mailroom guys and he's usually quite cheerful.  This morning I asked how he was doing and he said, "I wish I could say ok.  But I'm not."  I told him I was sorry and asked if there was anything I could do to help him.  He said no, it was just early and he'd probably feel better as the day went on.  Later I checked in with him and he was his cheerful self again.  He said he'd felt better since he'd had lunch, but it was hard for him to forget his past sometimes and stay in the present. 

I talked to G., the receptionist, on my mail rounds too.  She told me she'd missed work yesterday to be with a friend whose uncle had died the night before.  She and her fiancee had both gone over there to cry with her and hold her.

"We just went there to love her," she said.  "She needed love.  And that's what it's all about, isn't it?"

Yes, G, it is.  It really is.

I don't know how I ended up dating people again.  I really just intended to have coffee with a few people; maybe something would grow with one of them.  But I've found myself meeting people and thoroughly enjoying myself and having all kinds of energy around being social.  I caution myself that I need to be responsible, stay centered, keep my life moving forward spiritually...but I find myself playing. 

It's been wonderful:  I've met long-term LJ friends this week and figured out instantly why we are LJ friends.  I've met OKC matches.  I got back to the Grind* last night and saw people I haven't seen in awhile.  Met someone for coffee, which turned into walking, dinner, dancing, seduction.  I wish life could be just a happy dancing ever expanding circle of love and pleasure.

But (I remind myself sternly) there's more.  I'm on a path.  I have a family.  I have work to do.  And it's time to find the balance between the various elements of my life, to keep what is most important in the long term somewhere in the foreground of the immediate.  And now, to work.

*The Grind is a dance night hosted by the Center for Sex Positive Culture in Seattle.  Wiki here.

Andrew is in town and so, for several hours at a time, all is right in the world. 
Penny and Sar got published in their school paper.  Penny's story was called "12 Princesses and Me" and it includes the phrase "and then we all danced in a golden gazillion".  Sar told a surreal story about a tongue that ate the school.  They each authored a fortune cookie and their quotes were featured (along with their other classmates' ) in the paper.
Penny:  Someday, you will get what you always wanted.  Like a Hannah Montana toy. 
Sar: You will have different dreams, good and bad.
He'll be six (six!) in another 10 days.  How he has grown in the last couple of months since starting school...it's been astounding to watch.
I'm feeling physically better now than I was yesterday.
Karen and James got the wall up in their basement and now they have a real bedroom for me.  It's 8 and a half by 15 feet...long and narrow, but certainly big enough for me & my stuff.  Karen's taken up the powder-blue carpet and I think we're going to paint the concrete underneath.  There are several steps involved in painting concrete right, so it'll take prep and time, but I'm planning to help finish the floor in July, start moving stuff in during August, and start paying rent and living there in September.
Kevin has the kids in Vancouver this weekend, so I have the house to myself.
I had a great phone conversation with my grandmother a couple of days. She's 93, still living independently in Ransom, Kansas, and always a joy to talk to.  A conversation with her ranges from politics (she's a Barak Obama supporter in a land of Bush Republicans), to literature (she's read more National Book Award winners than I have), to local news (the minister's young wife has multiple tumors and has been flown to the Mayo Clinic for treatment). She's always gracious and polite, but if I'm blunt or even crude, it makes her laugh.  When I think of the world she grew up in...riding three miles to school on the family horse...and then think of everything that she's seen and lived through, adjusted to, accepted and affirmed...sweeping political and technological changes, a son who has a poly marriage, a bisexual grand-daughter and great-grand-daughter...I am in awe.  When I grow up, I want to be more like her.
I've talked to Mom and Dad on the phone recently too.  So they're up-to-date on the latest and supportive.  I'm lucky to have parents that really understand depression and who hold hope for me when I can't hold it for myself.
I had a date with Charles this week.  It was too short--a couple of hours between work and his drive back to Bellingham--but it was much anticipated and much needed.  I'll see him and Laurie and the kids again on July 5th, when I head up there on the train to spend the night.
And I have a job I kind of like, which is no small matter.  It's not the most stimulating job in the world, but I do a lot of walking all over the hospital and find that I'm more toned than I am on other jobs.
Fibromyalgia and depression have been kicking my ass, but I suppose there is something there to be grateful to as well. Or maybe that's stretching it.  Yeah, that's stretching it.  But I'm glad to have been able to write this much tonight.  Maybe the summer solstice heralds something better...

"Sar, I love you. I love you Elessar."