Thursday, September 14, 2017

in my love apocalypse...

in my love apocalypse, i stop seeking fame or fortune
in my love apocalypse, i rest in faith and friends
in my love apocalypse, i don't measure my worth in tallies of the masses
in my love apocalypse, what counts is how alive my soul feels
in my love apocalypse, i let go of the energy of push push push
in my love apocalypse, there is truly no reason to rush (except, when there truly is)
in my love apocalypse, i stop giving myself away to dissociative experiences
in my love apocalypse, i embrace a self love that's fearless
in my love apocalypse, i nap way more often
in my love apocalypse, i take way more baths
in my love apocalypse, my business ins't about transactional winnings and losings
in my love apocalypse, it's run on straightforward, relational negotiation
in my love apocalypse, i'm brave enough to make art
in my love apocalypse, i do it for the joy
in my love apocalypse, i let my fear and fragility show
in my love apocalypse, i trust that the truth is: i really know what's best for me
in my love apocalypse, we all learn how to suffer better
in my love apocalypse, we all learn how to dance freer
in my love apocalypse, there's less heavy lifting
in my love apocalypse, there's more trusting the mess
in my love apocalypse, i unwind the notion of scarcity
in my love apocalypse, spontaneity runs the show
in my love apocalypse, we breathe in some sanity, and deactivate our drones
in my love apocalypse, there's nowhere to get, nothing to be
in my love apocalypse, everything is truly, truly the way it's meant to be
in my love apocalypse, there's a new idea of holiness--one that lives inside us all--tap tap tap--we wait no longer
in my love apocalypse, we learn to stay longer
in my love apocalypse, my teachers are children, who haven't yet learned the rules
in my love apocalypse, my teachers are elders, who've unleashed themselves from shoulds
in my love apocalypse, we are together and we know it, more than we ever thought we could
in my love apocalypse, there's time to grieve the losses and dive all the way into what's good
in my love apocalypse, we put down the guns we've held to our heads--the shame, the blame, the hate, the pressure
in my love apocalypse, kindness is a worthy measure
in my love apocalypse, we don't need reminders to breathe
in my love apocalypse, there are places we can just be

what about you, friend? let's pretend friday is the end of the world as we know it. when i think about that, i can't help but break a smile. what are you letting go of? what ways do you dare to begin anew, truly?

i, for one, will be changing my business model (for real this time), and quitting social media (i just can't do it AND feel like i'm not putting on a show. not now).

violence, truth, love... you know

With every ounce of suffering I'm experiencing, I feel like I'm growing entire limbs of empathy. I bought myself a slice of cake tonight. I don't even like cake. But I felt really rebellious and childlike buying it, and when you've had knots in your stomach and knives in your throat for 48 hours solid, cake matters.

Alexander is my heart music. Like, when I want to sway in my room and cry, he's the one. This song was the only thing that could loosen my ice-cold heart today. Half-lotioned, half-clothed, hair wet, (finally showered), I cranked this song as loud as it would go and let my stomach hang as free as possible. I felt like I was carrying a child of grief inside me. And I danced. Wailed for like, 7 seconds. Then finished getting dressed and left for work.

I came home and landed on my roommates' couch where two sweet hearts snuggled mine for a bit. And finally, I found words for all the sadness that's been welling up within me. They bumbled out through tears:

Him caring more about having his desires met than my sense of safety or health... it's not just selfish, it's violent

Demand is truly the root of violence. "Or else" energy. Force, in order to get what you want. Tantrums, out lashes, threats, manipulative words... they're all pens of... violence.

But when I remain voiceless or act powerless, that's its own form of violence, too. It's an internalized force; a contracting of self so that I'm more agreeable, and therefore, in my mind more lovable. Compliance is my contribution to the equation...

Demand + Compliance = Violence 

It truly takes two.

I'm going to talk to him, I told them. One roommate responded, I'm more lazy. I'd just kick him to the curb.

But he's not an idiot, I said. He's not evil. He's just asleep. And I'm going to tell him what truly happens to me when he's so demanding. And also draw the line. Because I can't put myself through this shit. It's not healthy.

After which I stumbled into a rant on healing societal ills one person and relationship at a time.

Maybe hurt is inevitable. Yes. Of course. Death happens. Tragedy happens. SHIT happens. But mortality and violence are two different things. Let's not pretend like they're the same damn thing.

Violence is a symptom of societal ill. And yes, I'm sure society's always had its ills, but who are we to toss the towel in on healing? If not the whole fucking society, at least ourselves? Our families? Our relationships? The people we spend our waking hours with? The people we claim to love? 

Can we at least take on the practice of increasing compassion in our personal lives, and waking up to the ways that we're violent?--To ourselves, our communities, our friends and loves?

It swirled like a tsunami so strongly through the room that one roommate said he needed to take a nap. Ha!

how to be depressed**

1. Spend all your time on Facebook.
2. Read and reread old texts, trying to decipher what went wrong, when, and what might happen next.
3. Deprive yourself of your basic energy boosts like healthy food, exercise and INTERACTION WITH NICE PEOPLE.
4. Read blogs about how to be successful.
5. Spend a shit ton of money you don't have.
6. Look at a screen most of the day.

Hello friends,

I've had a revelation. I've been teetering on the edge of exhaustion/depression/totally losing my shit for the past, oh, 8 months (around the time I realized my marriage was ending). I'm reaching the point where I can no longer try to hold myself together.

I feel like one of those stuffed animals in Toy Story that sits still (ie--meets everyone's expectations) when humans are in the room, and comes to life (ie--is not what the humans think) behind closed doors.

It's its own form of torture. I want to just let myself live behind the closed door for a while, not having to stiffen up when someone walks in the room. Or realistically speaking, I want to be more real, whatever room I'm in. Or more plainly stated: I want to be allowed to be depressed. Okay... I want to be depressed. Okay.. I AM depressed. And I don't want to fight it/hide it anymore.

But because I've got deep rooted shit around keeping it together in front of an audience (don't we all?) I'm going to give myself the real space to disappear into my metaphorical 13-year-old bedroom until I actually feel like I can sincerely walk out into the world feeling alive and positive.

**by depressed i mean, more sad than you're used to for longer periods of time than you're used to. i'm not speaking in clinical terms. i have no training for that. but this shit might still help.

1. give a head's up, in writing, to your friends and family, inclusive of deep gratitude for taking you as you are these days... a totally imperfect and beautiful human who's just going through some shit. after all, you're depressed. connection HELPS. do a tiny bit of pre-work to make connection easier.
2. identify a bitching partner. someone you can call up for 5 minute cries, complaints, or frozen-still attacks. do not abuse this person's generosity.
1. stop asking, "where is the space for my depression?"--that's like asking, "where is the space for my breath?" there is no such thing as not enough space. space is infinite, always. you choose to walk into it, or not.
2. don't pretend you're happy when you're not. be with the truth. let it engulf you until it falls away. full-body experiences always eventually fall away.
3. give yourself permission to stop trying so hard. work from a place of humble hazy intuition, instead of push, push, push.
4. make your art. share it. humans are exhausted by trying to make summer last year-round. trust that your blanket of white winter snow is more needed than you think, than you could ever imagine.
5. forget that you're a healer (or whatever you are). just show up and do what you know how to do in your bones, because even in all this muck of depression, you still really like doing X.
6. let yourself be healed. where are your books? your movies? your coaches? your favorite sweater? your favorite soaps? where is your manifesto about what really fucking sucks right now? and where is your follow-up release?
7. remember that life is long. so so long. nothing lasts forever. that's what got you into this spiral from the get-go. (something major ended, no? the love you thought would last, the life, the inspiration). not even this will last.
8. did i mention to take care of yourself? for every caring output, i dare you to do a caring input. you know that this is needed. don't want to care for yourself? too tired? here's a 3 sentence e-mail to send to all your friends: dear friends, i'm so much more depressed than i'm prepared to admit. will you bring me dinner, send me texts, call me, or lay in bed with me while i cry sometime in the next two weeks? i love you. i really need it. thanks. ps--i can't even believe i'm sending this e-mail, but this blog told me to, so i am.
9. say "bless you" to your dear and terrorizing resistance. how far you've been from understanding humanity. how much closer you're getting with each spout of anxious doubt.
10. close the damn laptop and cry already. don't go 80%. the trouble with committing 80% to your depression is it's never really satisfied. it lingers far too long on facebook's homepage, a crush's photo page, and 1,000 sad love songs. CLOSE IT. CRY.
11. take a month off for 100% commitment to being with your shit. (or a week, or a weekend). book yourself a room. no facebook allowed. you and i both know, you've earned it.
12. potential financial losses? worth getting your power back.
13. potential work set back? worth getting your passion back.
14. plus, investing in your mental health is a consistent positive feedback loop. period.
15. look your shit straight in the eye like a deep, true love. it is, more than either of us know. yet.
16. create a culture of acceptance around sadness. you're not the only one suffering from no place to put it. make a box for the local coffee shop/library/bookstore/bar: "a place to put your sadness" with little slips of paper. every week, collect the sheets. burn them. say a prayer.
17. buy yourself flowers and fresh fruits and veggies. constant reminders that things are born anew in beauty.
18. ask yourself for forgiveness. you know what for.
19. write your thank you letters. and your forgiveness letters. no pressure to mail them, just extra joy if you do.
20. watch the movie short bus. it'll give you hope. promise.
21. don't hold onto your depression. okay--now that you're really embracing your feelings, let them be in their truest state: fleeting, momentary, here & gone. do NOT build an identity around being depressed. it is only an open door for more torture and pain. really. you're suffering plenty. promise.
22. instead, let the tiny flickers of light be your truth. in the dark, there is still ____. what's light where you are? what beauty do you still have eyes for seeing, even in your lowest spots?
22. don't postpone joy. you've gotten so used to the dark, that you might easily close your eyes to a bright flashing light in your face! don't postpone joy, sweet friends. answer that call with rapid fire speed. we all need relief. we all deserve exhaling tender laughs.
23. read any of these books as if they're wise sages sitting under a tree, imparting quiet knowing or your tired, seeking soul: tantra by osho, anatomy of the spirit by caroline myss, peace is every step by thich nhat hanh (and whatever else people recommend in the comments below).
24. bonus for the healers: tell your clients, with love, where you are and what you can and cannot do. in my case, i'll be sending a gentle e-mail to all my clients with the following stated: dear lovely clients, i just want to send a heads-up that i'll be practicing what i preach of truly being invested in my process for the next while. i'll be creating public art and honestly expressing where i am. where am i? well, i'm kinda depressed. that said, you be the test of whether you feel it, or not, in our coaching. clients have been reporting to me lately that it's the best coaching they've ever received from me. i've been feeling more present than ever to my clients. and in the dark, coaching feels like the most beautiful light i have! so all this to say--worry not if i look exceptionally dark in art and expression. it's healing and powerful for me. thanks. i love you. i know you really get it.
25. be a freak. it's fine. we knew all along. most of us are too busy worrying about keeping our inner-freaks in the closet to notice, anyway. let her out. you'll be doing a service to the world, showing that we can be both sad and powerful, honest and humble, tired and transformative... or sometimes, not. and that's okay, too.

Marry Young, Divorce Young: The Conglomerate Conversation I've Had with 100 Doubters

for brian, who's still my partner in doing things differently, who I still love to the moon and back.

"I always tell people it's a bad idea to marry young!" he says, after inquiring about my wedding tattoo and discovering that I'm divorced. "So I guess THAT was a mistake!"

"Nope. Not at all. It was a great idea. We wanted to celebrate our love. We believed in ourselves, each other." I'm a little smug on the subject, to be honest, deflecting so often the assumption that I regret my decision to marry.

"Well now it's gotta suck, doesn't it?!"

"Nah. Not really. We kept it real. Called it what it was when we didn't want each other anymore. Split up so we could stay in love."


"He's a great guy. It didn't end perfectly. It never does.  But I wanted him to be happy. And he wanted me to be happy. And we knew it meant breaking up. Hard as fuck, but it's how we still love each other. We're not together, slowly making each other miserable."

"So it was a mutual break? That easy?"

"Uhh, not exactly..."

The conversation continues. Confusion ensues. In the end, we land here:

"Dude, basically, when you go all in, you get a lot of results. Wonderful, hard, easy, scary, memorable, human results. When you go half way, you get a lot of regrets. Anxious, unsettled, wishful, mournful regrets. We married. We divorced. We celebrated. We grieved. We both moved on. Faster than we would've if we were still half-assing our way through shit, too afraid to be real with ourselves and each other about our honest-to-god desires. I feel seriously accomplished to be 26 and divorced. Like...YEAH, BABY--GOT THAT UNDER MY BELT!"

We chuckle. "Better you than me."

"Psssh. Better this than that."


"I'll take results over regrets any day."

"But a lot of them suck."

"But nothing lasts forever, either way."

"I dunno, girl. I couldn't deal with the shame... my family, my community, everyone there as I make this huge promise. And then telling them I failed?"

"So you'd rather never go for anything?"

"Not the shit I'm not sure of."

"No one gets married thinking they're gonna get divorced. I thought I was sure. Shit happens. Nothing's sure."


"ONE CIGARETTE AT A TIME. Just kidding. I basically slept for a year."

"I don't have time for that."

"Yeah. There's not a lot of societal space to be a really alive human in this world. But then again, it's possible. You just have to stop worrying about looking good. And then you start developing all kindsa crazy faith... Start discovering that having the rug pulled out from under you doesn't actually kill you. It's weird and relieving."

"But how do you know that you'll get your shit back together?"

"You don't. You just HOPE. Or you just STOP HOPING and see what happens. It's really fucking humbling."


"Oh my god, you're the best, I love you, let's hug."

The end.

Your Life is Your Art: A Manifesto