up all night . .very high winds blew against my house and rain pelted the windows of my office . .insomina held me captive starting around 2a.m. and with the full moon approaching i found myself unbearably restless (of course my caramel macchiato earlier in the day was still buzzing in my blood). . so i decided to pull a card from edward hoffman's
kabbalah deck and i came up with "hod" (glory) which is actually a "sefirot" (one of ten) on the jewish kabbalistic tree of life. a "sefirot" is linked to vital forces within the universe and is associated with a large array of attributes and symbols including color and music and patterns within the human physical body. pulling the "hod" card last night was timely since lately i've been struggling with "telling the truth" and positioning my words so that they are a true reflection of what is held within myself. "hod" reminds me that it is imperative to communicate with clarity and accuracy. the kabbalah states that "one must always speak honorably and never use smooth deceptive language." in fact, "it is forbidden to delude one's fellow creatures."
this particular "sefirot" is also associated with one's spiritual essence, maintaing self-restraint, and living a life of service and simplicity. these cards are a useful reminder to me right now to meditate on my own ability to communicate clearly and to cultivate patience and perseverence. meanwhile, the strong winds of march rage on . .
"you only see what your eyes want to see. how can life be what you want it to be? you're frozen, when your heart's not open"--madonna
i've been thinking a great deal about this whole notion of intention and self-disclosure. how true have i been to my intentions and deepest promptings and how willing have i been to share my truest feelings? i'm not always willing to share my most accurate assessments with myself. in fact, i lie to myself all the time. looking over my past bloggings, i asked myself the question--what if i told the truth? i've been thinking a lot about what i leave in and what i leave out. surely what shows up in the blog are things that i sometimes don't even know or fully understand about myself until i write about them. but many things are left out . .ephipanies, deep insights into my relationships, rantings about life in general . .and so forth. i have close friends who i'm able to share myself with, so i find i have good outlets for this kind of analysis . . .but what about the blog? there are things i want to put here, just raw self realizations ..but i still don't have that level of self-disclosure where it's all pure and fearless. and then, if i were to take that risk, to just spill . .i would have to really examine my deepest motivations and my childhood terrors. i don't know if i can be that brave, but i'm willing to try harder. i find however that for some reason i can fully disclose in my other writing. i don't seem to have any shields in my poetry or my prose. i'm able to relive the moment, discern the truest impulse of that moment, position it into language and let it be. but in the blog, i'm still worried, ultimately i think, about having to face up to my own shortcomings, my own inability to embrace what is, those pervasive demons or as jung would say, my shadow self. perhaps if i make a commitment here, tonight, right now, to write with a more searing honesty .. perhaps then, if i realize that as i write, i create myself . .then i will be more vigilent in bringing out even the darkest truths.
just found a great new link for margaret cho's stance on same-sex love and
equal rights!
leap /leep/ vb: 1. to jump in or through the air. 2. to pass abruptly from one state or topic to another or from nonexistence to existence; to rise quickly. (definition from the longman dictionary of the english language/1984)
today . .the dampness of the earth, a warm breeze, little goosebumps on my forearm, simply red on the radio singing "it's only love," spring coming forward a bit . .just a bit.
last night i watched the brilliant film "lost in translation" and i still can't get over that last scene when bob jumps out of the car on the way to the airport and catches up to charlotte . . ."hey you" . . .the look in her eyes when she turns around is breathtaking. there are so many extrordinary moments like that throughout this visual poem. the way tokyo glitters over charlotte's face when she's being driven back to her hotel after a night of karaoke. or when she is resting in bed next to bob, in a kind of fetal postion, drifting into sleep, talking about life. what can be more important than to be able to lay down safely with another human being and simply be? to be that comfortable with someone. that secure. to talk and be listened to. to know and understand that you both matter to one another. no other expectation but to simply share a moment, to listen and respond to one another with the full intention of being present.
