124. DILUTING ONE’S AMBITION, OR, LEARNING TO YIELD

From the Archives

(July 2005) From Rob Breszny’s Free Will Astrology:

HELP WANTED. Practical dreamers with high emotional intelligence needed to become experts in the following subjects: the art of possessing abundant resources without feeling greed or a sense of superiority; the science of cultivating luxurious comfort in a way that does not lead to spiritual sloth; and a knack for enjoying peace and serenity without diluting one's ambition.

Rob has described the exact space I struggle to create for myself—somewhere with time and emotional space to write and make art that still allows luxurious hours with my family and time for attentive dedication to my students and their work.

He is so freaking cool, tells this great story about being on the highway beside a woman who was so busy talking on her cell phone that she cut him off in traffic. He slammed on his brakes to keep from rear-ending her and then she changed lanes again. His immediate response was to yell, especially after she slowed down to pull up alongside his window, glare at him, and shoot a bird.

Then he looked down at this cool origami star that a friend had made for him and was suddenly filled with love instead of rage. He decided that this driver really needed this gift more than he did, so he threw the star into her car.

It landed on the seat beside her and she picked it up and looked at it with a flabbergasted look on her face. Then she got into the far right lane and slowed down.

I love this story, especially because I am Road Rage Mama of the Free World when I forget to pay attention. I don’t like this attitude that assumes that everyone else on the road should be moving at whatever speed I deem most convenient for me, but sometimes get so wrapped up in trying to get from Point A to Point B on time that I forget that we’re all just fragile busy people, trying to live our lives as best as we can.

(but must we do it in the left lane?)

I drove to my parents' house in a daze after my grandmother died, still feeling her frail hand in mine as she drew her last breaths. Then my mom sent me to the all-night store for coffee and coffeecake (since people would be coming by in the morning to offer their condolences).

The store is beside the hospital and, as I drove by in the wee hours of the morning, a hearse pulled out carrying what had to be the body of my beloved grandmother.

(Yes, my parent’s town is that small.)

I loved her without reservation and can say that she was the brightest light in my otherwise difficult childhood. And, yes, I do know she was fortunate to live 86 years in relatively good health. And most of the time I understand how thankful I should be, but I just lost it when I saw that hearse and, without thinking, stopped my car right in the middle of the highway and began sobbing.

These days, when I get irritated at drivers, I try to remind myself that I work near a hospital and that the chances are good that some of the drivers who are sharing the road with me are there because someone they love is ill or dying.

And I try to, well, yield

(which sometimes works).

120. ENDLESS RICHES

From the Archives

(July 2005) To continue my riff on how American’s define wealth, here’s Rob Breszny’s

SACRED ADVERTISEMENT

Congratulations. Every cell in your perfect animal body is beginning to purr with luminous gratitude for the enormity of the riches you endlessly receive. You are becoming aware that each of your heart’s beats originates as a gift of love directly from the Goddess herself. Any residues of hatred that had been tainting your libido are leaving you for good. You are becoming telepathically linked to the world’s entire host of secret teachers, pacifist warriors, philosopher clowns, and bodhisattvas disguised as convenience store clerks.

102. COMFORT TOTEM

From the Archives

(June 2005) This is how you know that Medea is sick: I am curled up in bed on a summer afternoon in my blue-polka-dotted white flannel PJs with happy red piping, drinking diet ginger-ale and eating a bright orange bowl of artificially colored (and flavored and...) mac and cheese with my well-worn Tony the Tiger spoon ... and I actually put on clothes to go to the store to buy this fake-tasting stuff!

Got the spoon after saving cereal box tops as a kid and still pull it out on bad days. It’s how I comforted myself back then and I guess it still works as my little comfort totem.

Am pretty certain that I have a good old-fashioned sinus infection, but really don’t want to go to the doctor. Hence I’ve been lying here saving up my energy as I surf the Web and pop echinacea and hope that I recover.

Molly Ivins’s Alternet article begins ”The Texas Legislature gives itself a huge retirement pension and, the next day, cuts retirement benefits for teachers. Welcome to a Republican-ruled state.” The wonderful (but sobering) title of her article is THE VIEW FROM THE OWNER'S BOX. Ivins also notes “You know, it's one thing for Republicans to run year after year railing against government. But once you win, you got to run it, people.”

I love her spunky smart self, but she strikes me as someone who may be lonely deep down in her heart. I hope I'm wrong though.

Also checked out the Free Will Astrology site.

I’m not actually into astrology so much, but Rob Brezsny is really cool and insightful and always references obscure and fascinating things that make me think.

My horoscope this week is particularly interesting, given that a friend just informed me that a (now well-to-do) ex of mine apparently still tries to live up to my values where money is concerned.

Huh.

I’m not really opposed to money—you can do a lot of good things in the world with it, as Paul Farmer can assure you—but I do hate to watch the way so many Americans spend it and am continually appalled by what we throw away. I also refuse to sell my soul for the sake of having more money and try to make decisions that further the care of my soul first and foremost. I want to be fiscally comfortable, but don't really care about keeping up with the proverbial Joneses otherwise and view conspicuous consumerism and those horrible McMansions as pathetic commentaries on our emptiness.

I also took enough advertising classes to recognize marketing manipulation when I see it.

I do have "money issues” though, as this ex pointed out to me on more than one occasion. Grew up in a working poor family that struggled, but have spent most of my adult life around people from solidly upper- or upper-middle-class families. This translates into sometimes feeling out of place around folks who assume that their references include me—and, well, they don’t.

Here's reality: Poor Americans are hyperaware of the fact that they are considered failures by their culture (and their current president). They're are aware that they are believed to be stupid and unmotivated by the more well-to-do around them (even though they often work two jobs in an attempt to keep up with their bills). And they're aware that their poverty makes people who have more feel uncomfortable.

We grew up knowing we were Other.

My best friend and I talk about this and how differently we grew up. Her family of origin was working class, too, but in a mostly working class town. And there were very few books in her house. My family of origin was working class in an affluent town, yet our house was filled with books—architecture and philosophy and science and art and history and arecheology—and my father spent a lot of time talking about philosophy and ideas. We struggled financially though, in part because he was a dysfunctional creative type who made consistently bad financial decisions and turned down raises that required him to relocate because, as he said, "I like where I live. It's beautiful here. And my flag is stuck down here."

All-righty then.

I'm also aware that my education and professional employment require me to spend most of my time around people who do not live the way most Americans live, that I spend most of my time among the most highly educated people in the country.

But what's that MLK line: "We must rapidly begin the shift from a thing oriented society to a person oriented society."

Yea. That about sums it up for me.

Anyway, here's my Free Will Astrology reading for this week, which actually does tie into what I've been blabbering on about:

I live pretty simply, and often have an allergic reaction in the presence of people who have their own jet airplanes, travel with personal servants and style consultants, drink $300-a-bottle champagne, and vacation in palatial spas on private islands. Having said that, I am duty-bound to report that you now have an astrological mandate to indulge in as much extravagant pleasure as you can afford. Your watchword for the week comes from Frank Lloyd Wright: “Give me the luxuries of life and I will willingly do without the necessities.’"

Meanwhile, apropos to, perhaps—but not really—nothing, I noticed in the grocery store last night that there is a magazine called Billionaires and wonder, do people actually purchase this periodical and take it home to read it instead of living their lives? The f*ck?!

READING: Aureole by Carole Maso (mmmm)

LISTENING TO: Until recently, I was listening to KRS-1, because I need a good beat to get me moving. He’s singing about Afrocentric education: you don’t know that you ain’t just a janitor coz no one told you about Benjamin Baneecke: A brilliant black man who invited the almanac. Can’t you see where KRS is coming at?

BEST OF SPAM: Does Ur Cock Hard Enough?

44. WATERS PRESSING MIGHTILY

From the Archives

(March 2005) From Rob Brezsny's Free Will Astrology:

NOW, WHEN THE WATERS ARE PRESSING MIGHTILY

Now, when the waters are pressing mightily
on the walls of the dams,
now, when the white storks, returning,
are transformed in the middle of the firmament
into fleets of jet planes,
we will feel again how strong are the ribs
and how vigorous is the warm air in the lungs
and how much daring is needed to love on the exposed plain,
when the great dangers are arched above,
and how much love is required
to fill all the empty vessels
and the watches that stopped telling time,
and how much breath,
a whirlwind of breath,
to sing the small song of spring.

-Yehuda Amichai
translated from the Hebrew by Leon Wieseltier

38. HOROSCOPES AND MO(U)RNING

From the Archives

(March 2005) I woke up sobbing this morning—big, gasping, painful sobs—and all I could do was curl up into a ball and wail. I don’t remember what I was dreaming either and I wish I did.

Started my dang period last night too, blast it all, which made me think about that bad penis envy poem I included a couple of entries ago.

Here’s the thing. I don’t envy a dick—can replicate it fine for fucking purposes and love the pleasure the body parts I have provide me—but I do envy the ability to have any kind of sex I want any day of the month I want without bleeding everywhere and do not particularly like spending 5 or more days a month bleeding.

Gotta get back to work now but, first, let me add Rob Brezsny’s latest Free Will Astrology horoscope:

A recent poll revealed that more and more people are enjoying oral sex. In the last three years alone, the percentage has increased from 74 to 79 percent. For members of the Aquarian tribe, that figure is likely to zoom precipitously upward in the coming weeks, as will the sheer number of erotic encounters involving the lips and tongue. In fact, all activities involving pleasure with the mouth are likely to lead to success and happiness, including (but not limited to) gourmet eating, loud singing, and wild talking. For extra credit, try combining two activities: gourmet eating and wild talking, for instance, or singing and oral sex.

I recommend champagne and sex myself. Mmm.