more thoughts on home from the vaults

may 6th:

well i grew up in chicago
and around the southern parts of
this great lake. but am i FROM here?

my lens on truth was the lens
of hyde park racial tension
of bare muscley oaks in winter
of freezing, thawing, boiling
of mourning dove and big skies
of friendly neighbors whom you don't love
of folks makin their life for their family

but is this as removeable, as workable
as the capitalistic/patriarchal/white supremacist/sexist
world&structures that i grew up in? those were also the lenses i was raised in and am livin it and i don't have to be attached just because theyre what i know.
...and that's it. what/where do i really know? no where. my body knows and loves many places, seasons, sensations. i don't know this land.

so should i decide to move to wisconsin, it could/should be out of desire to learn here,
not to "live where I'm from"
yes, similar weather patterns to my youth, similar trees.
but those were the only things i paid attention to.

live in a place that calls to you.
calls to you where you are at.

what would foucault do? What would jesus do? what do I do?

Power is not, as we are taught, to move up in a hierarchy (advance my career path, gain social prestige, etc.), but to recognize the glances and postures that create hierarchy and help ourselves and others to move beyond it.

The greatest power is allowing your own power to empower others.

This return to Chicago is a tremendous lesson about my own power and my life path. jedi guerilla healing agent of bliss! check yes in the career box.

krishnamurti says, "Only the mind which has no walls, no foothold, no barrier, no resting place, which is moving completely with life, timelessly pushing on, exploring, exploding- only such a mind can be happy, eternally new, because it is creative in itself."

If we are always present with this mind, a mind not monadic but naturally open to confrontation, risk, and collective consciousness, rather than being inscribed in our patterns/pre-conceptions/memories, we will re-generate in symbiosis with the unceasing-every-moment regeneration of the universe.

Power is believing in every word you say, acting genuinely in every social interaction.

It's also about vulnerability, accepting criticism without fighting back. It's a tremendous power to be able to cry in front of strangers, even more to cry in front of friends.

It is really easy for me to be powerful right now. I am fire and light. I am a little fearful that when I return to the west coast amidst so many experienced gypsy light travelers, I will again feel anxious and uncertain of my self. I'm grateful to this time in Chicago for teaching me that such a fear is unnecessary and will be overcome.

Power is knowing that the universe will always take care of you, and so you don't always need to know the answers or feel that womb of security. The power of Christ is his surrender. Power is faith and trust. Knowing that you are an awesome cook but allowing somebody else to spice the curry their own way.

Power conjoins the ordinariness of daily life with the sublime.

I invite power into our lives!

happy birthday lelz!
another pisces... geez, all my friends are dreamers.

I am in San Marcos taking shiatsu classes and learning magic tricks from little Guatemalan boys.
quite happy, brilliant, etc.
but thinking... that maybe this central american journey is soon coming to an end.
how will it end?
I am starting to rely too much on my tarot cards. the hanged man says chill out, go with the flow, wait and the answer will come.
but my tendency to jump the gun says... I would love to visit chicago. wow. so, pregunta:
will those I love currently living in Chicago be there for the duration of april? perhaps bike around town with me for a couple weeks?
will it be warm yet there?

imagine... flying! no more crowded chicken buses and ladies selling coconut water and cashews. sterile grey seats, sterile little plastic food trays. time-space leaping.

i am coming to resent white people here, somehow. like, we talk alot about all of our internal baggage that we are letting go of, delving into the harms of our past, releasing...
and then I talk to veronica selling banana bread on the street. my age, providing for her 5 sisters and brothers. smart, beautiful, funny girl.
somehow, I can connect with her better than the folks at the meditation center.
somehow.

also, parasites, geez. need to stop being a raw foodist here.
also, cacao is really yummy. i´ll bring some back for you all if i come to chi-town

the la la humdrums

in the grey huge castle, we all the know the one;
dust stains my hands black that collects
atop the books sitting on behalf of their makers
who lie dead somewhere. the might of this school stands on their spines
and upon ours bent with the hours click clacking

instead of putting barcodes on their spines
i whip up play delight for myself
i urge the lights to flicker out
my brain spits pink light
imagine a neon violence

yellow clouds gather around my crotch

one by one bones crack

i walk fast through the aisles
stirring the air up with hands
do my spells convince?

and i joke myself into desiring nothingness
laying on the cold linoleum floor there is
simple ease and relief from the endless grey

to be or not to be has never made so much sense
to care or not to care
to nap or not to nap
destruction/boredom/rigamortis/waking up/soft belly/where did everyone go?/candle light/computer haze

so if you post your life
ill post my death
and together itll be like a bright night
something ill be running through

dissonance my enemy
but not my jailer
if i feel enough of it
ill set myself free

move-out week at the bäo (a thought in verbs)

sweeping painting moving smoking hoping poking hugging lugging missing packing sweating readying tracing pacing feeling singing washing reddening confusing checking double-checking dismantling renewing finding dreaming cleaning listening looking waiting waiting wanting wanting wondering

Q: What are you doing for the revolution?

A: driftbicycling, wanderwalking, gravestonelooping, furnituresquatting, eyeopening

t-rex and I wandered around chicago by bike today 10:00 am to 12:00 am without direction, observing city fabrics and stitches, car lots and cigarette stores, garage sales, vine-covered duplexes and block parties. an august afternoon, not too hot and chicago is celebrating.

my eyes, feet, butt, and thighs are exhausted.

this city is a place that I will miss.

oh oh starlight compost how will we drift through the california foothills? will there be mariachi music? will there be revolution?