Thursday, November 30, 2006

Zzzz....

I've been totally slacking on my posting. I apologize. I have at least 3 different posts in various states of completion, but somehow I don't have the energy to finish any of them.

I'm in the middle of editing a documentary about twin brothers who travel to Norway for a family reunion and discover some family secrets, holiday season is upon us, AND I'm embroiled in a situation that has robbed me of many precious nights of sleep over the last 3 weeks. I am simply exhausted, but it's the exhaustion that comes from living life full-tilt (finally!), so it's all good.

I promise to post properly next week, after I've caught up on a few zzzzzzzs.......

Have a great weekend everybody. Hopefully I'll get some sleep!

Thursday, November 23, 2006

So I Never Went Back

If I have one true addiction, it's got to be music. Turning on my music is the first thing I do when I get home from work. Even before taking off my shoes or coat. If I'm in a room, there's music playing. If I'm in transit, I'm listening to 1 of my 2 iPods. I don't even take my headphones off when people are talking to me. I try to read their lips! If there's no stereo available, I turn the TV to one of the digital music stations. When all else fails, I sing. Yes, it's a total obsession.

I probably have about 90GB of music on a hard drive on my computer at home. When you have that much music, it's difficult to give proper attention to everything that's there. So when something catches my ear, I consider it a gift.

I've heard this song a million times before, but this morning I actually really listened to the lyrics, when it played on my iPod. I was totally present to them. And they were so achingly beautiful, sparse and sad, that I cried on the bus.

I Will Follow You Into The Dark by Death Cab for Cutie

Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black
And I held my tongue as she told me
"Son, fear is the heart of love"
So I never went back

If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

You and me have seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
It's nothing to cry about
Cause we'll hold each other soon
The blackest of rooms

If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
Then I'll follow you into the dark

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Rebel

Archetypes can help us shed light on the dark or little-known corners of our souls and amplify our own brilliance and strengths.

Rebel (Anarchist, Revolutionary, Political Protester, Nonconformist, Pirate)

Our images of the Rebel may be too closely aligned with cliches of youth culture to let us see the deeper significance of this valuable archetype. Whether politically inclined like Martin Luther King, Jr., Betty Friedan, or Lech Walensa, or an artistic innovator such as Van Gogh, Joyce, or Coltrane, the Rebel is a key component of all human growth and development. The Rebel in a support group can be a powerful aid in helping the group break out of old tribal patterns. It can also help you see past tired preconceptions in your field of professional or creative endeavor. The Rebel can also lead you to reject spiritual systems that do not serve your inner need for direct union with the Divine and to seek out more appropriate paths. The shadow Rebel, conversely, may compel you to rebel out of peer pressure or for the sake of fashion, and so become mired in another manifestation of conformity. The shadow Rebel may also reject legitimate authority simply because it is asking you to do something you find difficult or unpleasant. Be especially careful in evaluating your rebellious impulses; even if the Rebel is not part of your intimate circle of archetypes, you probably have it to some extent and should pay attention to its urgings. - From Sacred Contracts by Carolyn Myss


I have spent much of my life on the shadow side of rebellion. Even the event of my birth was utter chaos. After putting my mother through 24 hours of labour, I chose to make my appearance at the exact moment that the nurses changed shifts. No one was around, and I'm told that my mother had to scream bloody murder to get some attention back in that 1970s era Seoul hospital.

Perhaps this untimely entrance into the world marked me formatively, for I have shown up late, more often than not. My rebel's disregard for "legitimate authority" figures manifested into years of floating through work in total (apparent) apathy. In fact, I'm not sure if I have ever shown up for work on time. It's a wonder that I haven't been fired more than once.

This is nothing compared to the years I spent not showing up at all though. To not be present in your own life is surely the worst disservice you can do to your Self. How many years did I spend in a drug haze, running from the voices within? How many needless arguments and fights with parents, sister, brother, friends, bosses, co-workers, strangers? How much energy did I willfully disperse struggling against what is? All of this in the name of rebellion.

Look for the gift.

Those years feel like a waste. But of course, they are not. For every experience you have is a gift you've given yourself. Those experiences taught me that fighting what is, is just another form of conformity. Participating in the act of rebellion does not help you seek out your own path. All you are doing is reacting to everyone else's path. You are effectively scattering your creative power and energy uselessly to the 4 winds.

No more.

Thank you Rebel. You have taught me well. But you shall no longer own me. From Now on, I will own you and use you well.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

The Invitation

The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.


This is what she says about the poem: "I wrote what I need to remember, what I need to hear again and again: that life is full of beauty and pain; that the world will break your heart and heal it, over and over, if you let it, and that letting it do both is the only way to live fully; that we are not alone but deeply connected to that which create, and sustains all life."

And that is the struggle, isn't it? Having the faith to let it.

Monday, November 06, 2006

Gasolina

My memories of Miami will always be tinged with the feeling of freedom that comes with riding on the back of a motorcyle. I'd hop onto Josep's Harley clad in only a tank top, jeans and sunglasses, and we'd take off for Key Biscayne or the beaches of Fort Lauderdale. Dangerous, yes, but nothing can compare to the feel of the Florida sun beating down on your bare arms and shoulders, the smell of the sea in your nose, and the wind whipping through your hair, as you roar past beautiful, blue vistas. Besides, when in Rome...

The first time out, we nearly ran out of "gasolina." Charming, even though it was accompanied by plenty of swearing and hitting of the Harley's gas tank. It's amazing how much a Spanish accent helps such situations.

"What will we do?" I asked, as the motorbike started to sputter.

"We will have to park the bike, find the gasolina, and take the bus."

In this moment, I decided that I would manifest a gas station. Partially, because I did not want to park, walk and take a bus. Partially, because I was having too much fun on the back of this bike. But also, because I had been doing so much work and reading on the Law of Attraction and quantum physics that I wished to try out my powers of reality creation. It was a grand experiment.

Quantum physics says that the universe is an energy soup, with all probabilities in it, happening at the same time. Time and space are illusions. We create our realities by tuning into the chosen frequency, and with the power of our belief, certainty and observation. Theoretically, I reasoned, this is possible.

I closed my eyes, got into a space of certainly, then said to him, "Don't worry. There's a gas station right around the corner."

"Ahhh, have you been here before?" he asked, relieved. This was, after all, our first date.

I hadn't.

I'm not really someone who consciously prays, but somehow, someway, I must have been, for when we rounded the corner, Josep exclaimed with wonder, "Look, there it is!"

I couldn't believe my eyes. Was this a bizarre coincidence or did I actually manifest reality?

Honestly. It doesn't really matter. All I know, is that in that moment, I felt magical. I started to believe in myself as the creator of my life, circumstances and reality. And as I continue my exploration, it becomes increasingly obvious that this is how it's always been. I just wasn't conscious of it until Now.