What feels like the end of the day.

Wow. The last time I updated this, it was March 9th. So much has happened since then.

I lost my job and got cheated out of a lot of money at a time that could not have been any worse. I was finally feeling an upswing from the miserable winter, when all of this came to a head.

I faced having to leave Chicago, the home I've built for myself, to move back in with one of my parents. I spent three weeks furiously searching for new employment, which is definitely hard to do when you're unemployed.

I took a lot of handouts from a lot of friends, and even more from my family. If it weren't for my loved ones, I doubt I'd be here today. That may sound petty, but it's the truth. A person can only take so many kicks to the ribs, head and heart before vital organs stop responding.

All of these things have had me in such a horrible place, that other things from deep down have been coming up and wreaking their havoc as well. Things that I am normally able to deal with, but haven't had the strength lately to do so.

Luckily, very luckily, I just got a dream job, working with a design company just a mile or two away. Salary, benefits, standard work week, no dress code.. and it's a career builder. It's exactly what I need to get myself back on track after these five horrible months, and I'm very excited.

I guess listing things out like this really sort of robs them of their impact. 2008 has been awful. It's my sincere hope that this new job is the beginning of a quick turnaround. I'm looking forward to summer so much.

What bothers me most is that I was in such a good place—emotionally, spiritually, financially, holistically—until this year. I feel robbed of that. But I am very anxious to get it all back.

Hopefully I will be able to write more again. I want to get back into poetry. After all of this, I expect a big release. A purge of sorts.

Janufeb takes its toll.

I know I have not written anything here in awhile. These months are hard on me, and they seem to get worse every year. Janufeb is about as much fun as solitary confinement, from what I can imagine.

I've been really sad and hopeless lately, without going into it. I hope warm weather will change that.

That's all.

The cafe.

I sit at this table, in a favorite cafe of mine, drinking coffee grown in another part of the world by farmers I will probably never know, though I already know them by the fruit of their labor. They are in the coffee they grow. The people who roasted the beans are in it, too, and I therefor know them for it.

With my coffee, I ate a muffin. A ginger-carrot muffin baked in-house by the people who served it to me. They are in the muffin which is in me, so they too are in me.

I am, in this place, a part of the couple sitting in front of me, the three old men sitting next to them, the other solitary people in the room.

Together we are here, manifestations of our collective essence. I live for them and they live for me. This brings wonder and joy into each moment spent here.

When I leave, I'll bring them with me. They have changed me uniquely. When I am home, they are there with me, and I with them.

There can be no greater joy than what is found in that. One day we will return to the suchness of everything that is. There can be no greater peace than what is found in that. May I learn to see this in every action, every thought, every moment, for it is absolute.

The body.

Our bodies: what exactly are they? How much importance should we attach to them? What is the meaning behind the desire I feel for an attractive, naked body when I see one? Is it a manifestation of sexual instinct, or is my relationship to that desire deeper than just sexuality? Why do feelings of sadness and inadequacy arise alongside feelings of sexuality when it is triggered? Is that self-consciousness? Or is it self-deprecation?

What is the attraction to the shell of another human being all about, given that I consciously don't want children, which should rule out reproductive instincts? Are our bodies so pivotal to our experience as humans, and our relationships to one another, that they govern our sense of self? Is that true of me? Are my social inhibitions a product of my self-image? If so, is my self-image inextricably tied to my body to a significant degree? Or are those inhibitions a product of my experience? Is it both?

How can I practice to remove the emotional impact triggered by a desirous body? Is that possible, and is it healthy? Should I instead practice to achieve balance between good and bad feelings? How can I transform that suffering?

Fences.

Why is it that we raise so many fences around us to keep love out of our lives? I'm not just talking about love in the romantic way, though that's necessarily a part of it, but more in the general sense of the warmth you feel for another person when you know them intimately (again, not just in the sexual way).

A few months ago I made a conscious decision to take down the fences I had been putting up for a long time. I made myself and my love available to everybody. Or at least I hope I have. I hope I've not made a single person reading this, or those who can't, feel as though I wanted to deprive them of that.

More recently, and this time I am talking about the romantic or sexual kind of love, I made a conscious decision to welcome the opportunity to love another person more deeply than most others. In the land of sunshine and blue skies, you'd think the flood gates would open and all of this love would come rushing at me. Obviously that's not the case! I'm not that good-looking. But I have to say that I am surprised by the amount of solitude I see in other people. The various ways a lot of people have of sheltering themselves from others. I'm sure a lot of this has to do with vulnerability and the degree to which we're all comfortable with it. But man, it seems so contagious and epidemic.

Do people look you in the eye as they pass you on the street? Do you look at them? Or do you avert your gaze? Do you smile when you notice somebody noticing you, or do you look down, showing them your stoic side? Do you invite the interest of other people, or do you do you invite it only on your terms, for your needs?

I'm not saying we should all go around making as many loving connections as possible in the sexual/romantic sense, because certainly that's not healthy either.

But I do think what is symptomatic of one kind of love is also symptomatic of all the other kinds. Fewer meaningful romantic relationships lead to fewer meaningful relationships of any kind. The more we push one kind of love out, the more we push it all out. If we, as an American society (this problem is more a local one than a global one, from what I've seen), cannot be comfortable in intimacy of one kind, we dull our ability to be comfortable with other kinds of it.

And really, what kind of lasting satisfaction can you get from being that boy or that girl who attracts attention from others, only to ultimately shun it? If you have that ability, if you are graced with that kind of charisma through your appearance, your outlook, your thoughts, your activities, or whatever else, what good is it if you give it a deviant name and live your life trying to avoid it, unless you directly benefit from it? You can't benefit from it until you open yourself to others.

Maybe I just wish I lived in a world where people were more receptive. Where social anxieties weren't as prevalent. Where the well of prejudices and pre-assumptions wasn't as deep and plentiful. Where you didn't worry so much over first impressions, because you see the impermanence of them. I don't really think that's a utopian vision, but maybe it is.

Local vs Corporate

Is it better to buy your commodity goods at giant corporate chains like Whole Foods and Trader Joe's, knowing you're buying better quality products that are more "wholesome," to use that term loosely; or is it better, if you can, to buy your commodity goods locally, even if it means not buying organic or supporting the small-scale producers that seem to end up on the shelves of "health food" stores?

I thought I had reached clarity on this, but I'm having a hard time following-through with it. I decided a few weeks ago that it's better to buy locally and support local economy, even if it means giving your economic contributions to a mass-producer like Goya than a more holistic company like some (and I can't stress that enough) of the producers who stock Whole Foods shelves who don't operate under the umbrella of an MNC. Would I rather buy black beans in bulk? You bet. Would I rather buy them in a can from Amy's than from Goya? Of course. But I think that local economy trumps that concern. If I am buying "ethically," again a term I am using loosely for a lot of reasons, I am still supporting one of the fastest growing, union-busting, independent-grocer-crushing giants in the country. Yes I'm talking about Whole Foods. Ultimately I sleep easier at night knowing that money went to profit a local owner who might own another grocery store on the other side of town called "Fresh Foods 2" or something hoaky like that. At least I know the profits being made are going back into my community more efficiently than Whole Foods can do it.

But yeah, there is still a lot to be said for supporting producers and manufacturers who operate more ethically. The argument could be made that local business owners model themselves off of bigger corporate entities, and that if demand for Amy's vegan black bean burgers trumped Boca, local places would stock Amy's. But then how big will Amy's become, and for how long can they uphold their ethics while producing on that big of a scale? It all comes full circle in that sense.

I'd like to hear what you all think. If you have a few minutes, which you obviously do if you've read to this point, comment here with your thoughts on the issue. It's becoming a very important issue in what some people, including myself, see as the next necessary step in our economic evolution if we are to become a sustainable species: consuming more intelligently, and ultimately consuming much less.

Stay warm.

So far January has fallen in line with the tradition of being the year's asshole. People just get less social, there is less to do, there is more time to spend at home thinking about everything I spent all last spring, summer and fall keeping out of the foreground of my mind. Loneliness, inadequacy, how difficult it is for me to make new friends, the meaning of my work, the reality of my debt, what it is I'm actually trying to do with this life, the fact that I'm a year older and that much further removed from my youth.

I'm sure something fruitful will come. It almost always does. I hope it doesn't take the rest of the winter for me to start feeling good again. I like having joy in my life. Who doesn't? Some of us are less adept at keeping it there, though. I don't think I do a very good job of holding precious things and people for their true worth. At least not as often as I should, which is all of the time.

Right now I know that I do not have the capacity to see the unwholesome seeds that are growing in me. I see them when they flower, but I do not see them when I sow them. In spite of the strong healthy relationships I have with people I love now, I feel lonely and incapable of drawing the love out of others. In spite of all of the wholesome seeds blooming in my garden, my attention dwells on the unwholesome ones. I don't know why I feel that way. I hope to reach clarity on that soon.

This weekend has been particularly difficult. It's funny how one thing can open up your eyes to a new horizon of suffering. That is probably for the best, though. I cannot be happy if I am ignoring suffering.

Black Holes are an Honorable Way to Go

It's been quiet on here this month. Strange how that in no way reflects the reality of my life! December has been so busy, so overwhelming, that I'm amazed I got as much done as I did.

One of those things, and one which I'm particularly proud of, is finishing the short story I started writing a few weeks ago. I'm proud of it because I tend not to finish many of my creative endeavors, and I met my deadline of January 1st for finishing this one. Not only did I finish, but I finished on time! That deserves a woot woot, believe me.

I'm also proud of it because it's my first serious writing attempt in several years, as well as the first thing I feel I could put into a portfolio as a developing writer.

It's a story based on an idea I had awhile ago, and I'm proud of how it came out. You may not like it, but that's not what's important to me. What's important is that it's good from an objective, literary point of view. If any of you who have training in things like structure, character development, language, etc are willing, I am for sure open to constructive criticism. But if you just want to tell me it's not good because you didn't like it, then respectfully keep your opinion, to which you are entitled, to yourself.

Please keep in mind that I wrote it in two sittings and edited it once, so it's certainly not perfect. Also, I am pretty up on my grammar in general (including the use of contractions), so please figure that in, too. Unless something is an obvious oversight, I used the grammar I wanted to use.

The title to this entry contains a link to the RTF file if you want to give a read. Just please don't plagiarize! I won't know if you do, but you will, and karma's a bitch.

I dropped the ball.

No doubt about it. Lots of working, relaxing, and sleeping this month. It's December, so what else is there to do, really?

Yesterday I finally started writing something. It's a short story, and I'm about half way through it. I can't really tell if I'm doing a good job with literary technique, but I think it reads ok. Mostly I'm just happy to write something again. It's been a really long time.

It's hard to believe that it's December 17th. Christmas is one week plus one day away. That's kinda fucked up.

Click the link for a great way to spend your down time at work! Reading a zine on the interweb!