My New Year's Resolution, sort of kinda'...

I have no New Year's Resolutions. Not because I'm so perfect and nothing needs to change. (well, actually ...) But simply because Life moves so fast and when you're truly in the moment, nothing is a conscious act.


You just move, you just do and you don't know why you're doing it anymore. Because you want to? Because you have to? What does it matter? It is simply your life. And you are living.

The present immediately becomes the past. You can't capture and bottle a moment or a feeling anymore than you can stop Time. You have to keep moving, even when you don't want to, even when you don't know where you're going.


Don't get me wrong. I get into my contemplative moods. It's how I get my rocks off. Thinking and analyzing has always made me feel safe and secure. Living in my head has always been an extreme comfort. I always thought, "If I can figure it out, it can't hurt me."






It's been a safety mechanism for me--almost like, "If I'm a good person, good things will happen to me."


But in reality, you can't protect yourself from Life. You can't innoculate yourself from it's unpleasantries. We really are not in the driver's seat when it comes to this life thingie. We are all just passengers. I like to think of myself as a collie, hanging my head out the window, tongue out, catching the whizzing scenery as it goes by.


Just hoping to get a bone at the next rest stop.




Okay, maybe I do have one little itsy bitsy teenie weenie minnie winnie (okay, I'll stop now) resolution...

...to continue to forgive myself for not being perfect. Now that may sound like one big "Duh!" to all y'all. But you have to understand. In a previous life, before these two, I was a Mother Superior or damned near close to it. And although I have fucked up countless number of times in this lifetime--enough to know that I won't be getting the Jesus Christ/Buddha award this time around (ha! shut up!), I am still addicted to being "Good" and "Honorable".




Don't applaud me. It's all connected to the ego.




And worse, I am still wracked with guilt for what I perceive to be my 'failings'.







It's hard to be just a lowly human.

Why Do We Cry?

So Christmas was awesome. My husband had to work, so I decided to enjoy a day in the city.

But first, my Christmas gifts:

Yes, my husband and I totally believe in indulging our inner children. I couldn't have been happier. Do you know how much courage it must have taken for a grown ass man to walk INTO a Hello Kitty store, first of all? And then actually WALK OUT with that? Come on, the man is a saint.

Anyway, back to the city, so yeah... Christmas is like New Year's Eve in America. It's actually considered a big date night. Folks dress up and walk around and look festivally sexy and stuff. And depending on where you live, you may have to pre-order your Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket WAY in advance of Christmas because of sheer demand.

Yeah, that's right. Everyone wants to have a Kentucky Christmas (as they say here).

Really. I'm not joking.

So, of course, I had to bring some home, much to my husband's delight.

And I bought him this, too:

Just kidding. I WANTED to, though. But he might try to be funny and put that thing on in bed one night and scare the hell out of me or something.

But anyway, back to the city... And by the way, there was this robot moving, walking, rolling around or whatever and I don't know why. It looked like no one else knew why either, judging from the looks Homeslice received.

So yeah, the whole commericalism thing---in the midst of all that, guess what emerged?

An actual contemporary African American-styled GOSPEL choir. In the middle of the mall. REAL Christians (with blinged-out crosses and everything!) . Singing their hearts out with joy and like I said before, I don't subscribe to religion. But Christianity is my roots, my home, my family, my heritage and so hearing the sounds of Donnie McClurkin immediately brought tears to my eyes.

So they're singing in praise and I'm walking through the mall visibly crying at this point and that's when I decide to just give it up and plant my ass in front of the gospel choir so at least my crying in public will look a little less....insane.

So I merge in with the crowd, who is appreciative but strangely quiet and immobile and I remember, yes of course, they don't know anything about this, do they? I remember a (Japanese) friend of a friend asking me once at a party, "Why do people cry when they sing in church?"

I said, "Huh?"

She repeated with the utmost sincerity and curiosity, "On TV. I see them. Why do they cry?"

There was no way I could answer that question. For her or for myself.

For me, it is the experience of being human combined with the hint that we are actually something quite more than that which simply bubbles up to the surface at that particular moment. Overwhelming me. Choking me. Freeing me.

It is Yearning, it is Guilt, it is Wonder, it is Awe, it is Sorrow, it is Grief, it is Pleasure, it is Gratitude, it is Union, it is Love so unexpected and frightening and intense.

It is Release. It is Realization. The brief awareness that far from the illusion of our individualness, we are all actually one and the same. That there is no you or me. That the delicateness of our existence is far more profound and beautiful and wondrous than we could ever know.

But how can you explain that?

Or the fact, that after such a metamorphosis of perception, that after such tranformation, Life simply goes on.

And that, after that, well... you get on the train with your KFC, try to read a little, get a wee nap in and you take your ass home to your husband.

Christmas Memories

So in hopping around the Blogosphere, I am seeing a few of my peeps doing a Christmas tag where they each list 12 Christmas memories or anecdotes concerning the holiday. I was tempted to join in only for a second.

Until some Christmas memories emerged that I would rather forget.

My stepfather died on Christmas Eve. It is a shame now, I think that his legacy, at least for me, lies in his being a violent alcoholic who terrorized our family for years. But I suppose that is the way it is. Doesn't take away my love for him. Can't. But in some ways, Death can be a tragic relief even as it remains a loss....

I also remember a Christmas Eve which my mother and I spent riding the bus in the lightly falling snow in Brooklyn. We were going to the hospital to pick up my older sister, who was being released from the psychiatric ward after having attempted suicide. She overdosed on painkillers and when that didn't work, tried to jump out of the sixth floor window of our apartment in the projects.

I have always longed for the holidays in which the shadow of pain and tragedy were not lingering over the heads of those I love.

But, I think the worst thing is to be broken, to give up, to say, "Hapiness is not possible for me. I will simply suffer until God deems enough is enough."

That, even in spite of the not-so-good things that have occurred on Christmas Eve, is the worst thing, in my opinion.

Happy Holidays.

Meditation Montage

Hello all!

If you find you've got a minute or three to spare, please check out my first youtube video! Yaay! (I'm so proud...sniff) I was inspired by a beautiful song ('The First of Autumn' by Enya) and the beautiful, awe-inspiring sights I've been privileged to see--from Beijing, Hong Kong (China), Bangkok (Thailand), Pusan (South Korea) and Japan.

Relax and let your mind drift wherever it wants to go!

The Audience

Allow me to present an e-mail that I typed to my sister most recently:

"As for me, I am doing well. Being here is great. One of the challenges for me is learning to live my life without the audience. (The audience is the group of folks we carry around in our minds, judging us and comparing us to others.)

I can`t say the audience has been a negative thing in my life--if that were the case, I would have thoroughly rid myself of it by now. The truth is that I enjoyed being competitive with the rest of the world or my imagined peers or whatever you want to call it, even as I lamented that I had fallen short of my potential.

It was an addiction.

I needed to compare myself to my peers and imagine that others are watching and debating my every move. If it weren`t for the audience, I would have no criteria by which to judge myself a success or failure (in various arenas) so I needed the audience--even as much I even complained about it sometimes.

Now, here in Japan, I am rid of the audience on a large level. Of course, the audience remains in my head to a degree, but much of it, simply by way of being in a foreign culture, is removed. I can`t say that I am entirely happy with that. It feels uncomfortable not comparing myself to my peers--even though such comparisons were definitely lowering the quality of my existence.

On a large level, I want to rid myself of the need to compete (compare) with others, but at the same time, I really don`t know how to truly live and feel satisfied without the comparisons and competition.

But I am learning to release the need little by little.

I think we would be so much more satisfied with ourselves if we were not comparing ourselves to others and living with the audience all of the time.

Anyway, that is where I am right now, learning how to maximize the enjoyment of my life and forget about the yin-yang. hahaha!"

picture: Me, Nakatsu Japan.

Oh Wow, This is NOT an Extended Vacation!

So we got our internet service shut off for a few days. I guess that's what happens when you ignore your mail--including the envelope with the returned application (for automatic deductions from bank account) because it was sent unsigned.

Remember just because you can't read it (Japanese mail) doesn't mean you shouldn't read it (ie. find somebody who can). Haha!

Other than that, a girl has been very busy at work. Our students put on a Christmas presentation on December 15. It was quite fun preparing for it. I love making props and dealing with sets and music and dancing and acting. But it was a tremendous amount of work.

Now it is finished and things are winding down as we prepare for the holiday. A girl has been doing quite a lot of thinking about her life lately. So many things I have been putting off because my mindset has been, "When I get back to America, that is when my REAL life will begin."

Somehow, my time here has just felt like one long over-extended vacation. It didn't feel like 'regular life'. Now, we are faced with the prospect of actually staying here perhaps a little longer than I intended and I have been faced with the realization that my life is going on right now, right here, all the time. I don't have to wait to do certain things in my life. I don't have to wait to live.

I've been doing it (living) all this time!! Who knew??? Looks like I've got some plans to get in motion, hunh?

Toodles,
DMB

Scenes Of A Weekend

Saw my first NOH performance last weekend. Think Opera. But with less singing, less music, less costume changes..... I think you get the idea. I thoroughly enjoyed myself (honestly), even though I couldn't keep my eyes open. I felt bad about that...

until I realized that neither could 30% of the audience.

But it was lovely to see all of the older ladies in the theater all decked out in their 'kimono'. It's not a sight that you see very often.

Speaking of sights you don't see very often,

Sumo wrestlers. Small. Trainees. Perhaps.

And nothing beats meeting new friends...

And seeing old friends, doing, er, the strangest of things...

And speaking of the season, nothing screams HOLIDAY more than ambiguous English.

I'm sure it's not as selfish as it sounds.

And nothing beats the best thing of all..

An amazing sunset.

Cheers, Dahlinks!!!

Wow...Who Knew?

I am pretty lazy person. And I've come to terms with that. I'm more of a be-er than a do-er. I don't need a lot of stimulation and I don't enjoy being busy.


Of course, I admire energetic people and their quest to always have a purpose, an activity, something to do. And yes, I envy it just a little.

One of the reasons why Motherhood frightened me was the idea of always being busy, being permanently 'on call' to another person's needs.


Didn't sound like a whole lot of fun. And besides, can you imagine us going from this..



and this...



and this...



To this?





I don't know....But, I guess I've really grown up because a girl is feeling the urge. I want to breastfeed. I want to experience childbirth.

I remember one night a few months ago, my husband and I were riding our bikes to one of our favorite restaurants, American Diner (where Bob Dylan and the blues are on constant rotation). As I trailed behind him, I remember enjoying the inky blackness of the night and the awesome silence. It felt like we were encased in a cocoon of Love and Tranquility and Strength and suddenly I had this thought:

'I'm okay now. I don't have to worry about me anymore. I'm bored with always merely obsessing about myself. How nice it would be if we had someone else to think about.'

I suddenly realized that I finally had enough confidence in the BOTH of us to actually do this, to actually take care of another person and not totally f#*k it up!

Wow. Who knew?

How I Got Everything

A lot of times, when I look at my life, I am a little surprised. I don't have much money. I don't have any of the things by which the world would rate me as a 'success'. My childhood was traumatic, for many reasons. I struggled with depression for most of my existence. But things--my life... it's so different now.

Somehow, I've become the girl who has everything.

I don't know how it happened. Really, I don't. I worked on myself, yes. But something met me halfway. God, the universe, I don't want to attach a word to the phenomenon, the experience, the miracle. Grace? No, let's just leave it alone.

The craziest thing is that some people I know look at me with envy. People whom I think ought to know better. When I tell them I know of Pain, they look at me like I'm lying. I can't convince them of my yesterday.

I only know now what I didn't before: That there is Hope. That no matter what you feel or what you are going through, you can get over it. You can transcend it, look at it with different eyes, become so distant from it that it feels like Yesterday happened to someone else.

It's possible, but you can't fake it. You can't pretend to be where you're not.

My grandmother had a very long chat with me one night, not too long ago. Of course, my grandmother has been dead for wow, going on, ten years now. But I digress....

She told me to go through the cemetery. I asked if I could take someone along with me--preferably a big, strong man (I was single then) to make me feel comfortable along the way.

She said no.

I told her I was terrified.

She said go.

When I woke up, I instantly knew that the cemetery was my mind. The deepest darkest feelings that lay in my psyche. I had to be what I truly was-- unevolved and immature and deeply yearning --and not pretend to be the person I wanted to be.

I had to take the time for me, to express myself, to cleanse, to heal.... I needed to siphon the pus that lay beneath my skin, inside the wound.

And what I thought once would kill me (Pain) eventually made it's way on out.

It can happen.