i love beets!

as i read the first few lines of the previous post, i thought, ah, this one's written by ruth (sometimes it's obvious right away, and sometimes i have to read a few lines) so you can imagine how pleasantly surprised and proud i was to see that YOU, myriam wrote it. you wrote all about your beautifully colored beet poop, and with pride and joy. you write a gooood story, mj. i was right there with you. just as i can still vividly visualize the beads of sweat forming on ruth's upper lip as the panic swiftly set in her face when max was having a melt down in the quaint and cozy wine store filled with people and i wouldn't come rescue her because i didn't want her to pay for the wine... i can vividly visualize the expressions on your face and the emotions that filled your body...i can picture you relaxed and proud and happy, eager to share with us that you are not only proud of your poop, but already writing your poop post in your head...and then i can clearly see the panic set in fast, the whirlwind of chaos that quickly followed and the toilet overflowed, as kerry was abruptly awoken from a sound slumber, the horror, the horror, the horror. so great. it's so fucking great. i love it.

what i WAS going to write about was love. i was going to write this post with pictures because they make me smile with gratitude every time i see them!

Beet Trauma

I awoke to a a warm welcome from the morning sun. I slowly made my way from the bed to the bathroom as usual. With thoughts of the day ahead, I sat onthe cool porcelin seat, that each morning greeted me. As I finished my business I looked into the bowl as I now do regurlary. To my great delight, a beautiful glow of fuschia peered up at me. For last night I had eaten 6 large beets for dinner. I was tickled with gratitude as my body had processed this and gifted me with big, long fuschia poop. I giggled thinking of the two of you and how connected we are. Ironically, I have a photo of us in the bathroom and so it's as if you are right there with me saying "good poop Myriam!". I flushed the toilet and continued to watch the colors change as water filled up the bowl and then the UNTHINKABLE happened. Yes, to my HORROR, the bowl continued filling and suddenly my heart started thumping with despair. It was happening so fast, and the fear paralyzed me. I stood there in shock as water continued to fill the bowl and the water started OVER FUCKING FLOWING that GODDAMN fuschia that only moments earlier had brought me such joy. BETRAYED, I was BETRAYED by the beet poop! As the water and poop flowed out of the toilet and started dispersing in every freakin crevice in the bathroom, I let out a shriek that echoed death. Standing in the bathroom terrified and naked, I screamed, I screamed from the depth of my being. It's all a blur but somehow I had the good sense to turn the valve and stop the flooding, only after piles of pink poop floated around my feet. Of course by this time, my love had woken by the shrieking and came running, curly hair all in his face "Baby, baby what is it?" "No, I screamed, you can't come in, it's horrible, save yourself, save yourself..." I sobbed through muffled tears.

I leave you with this...

The beet is the most intense of vegetables…Only the beet departs the body the same color as it went in.
At birth we are red-faced, round, intense, pure. The crimson fire of the universal consciousness burns in us. Gradually however we are devoured by parents, gulped by schools, chewed up by peers, swallowed by social institutions, wolfed by bad habits, and gnawed by age; and by the time we have been digested cow style, in those six stomachs, we emerge a single disgusting shade of brown.
The lesson of the beet, then, is this: hold on to your divine blush, your innate rosy magic, or end up brown

(Tom Robbins, Jitterbug Perfume)

Heartache...

If you don't have a cup of coffee or drink in your hand, you may want to stop reading and go pour something for yourself as this is going to be a long one. Yesterday morning during our weekly management meeting, one of our Deans shared a story that touched me so deeply, I could not shake it all day. A professor from our college had a meeting with the Dean last Thursday. He shared the news of his two wonderful daughters. With love in his eyes, he talked with great pride about his daughter Rebecca, graduating from Princeton with a Ph.D. this spring and his youngest daughter Mila graduating with her medical degree from Yale. In addition to her academic accomplishments, Mila would be returning to her home state of California as she had also recently been selected for a position at a clinic here in LA. He was even more delighted to learn that she and her boyfriend became engaged and would marry once she finished school. This humble, difficult, cantankerous professor, revealed a sweet gentleness about his children that came from a place so deep in his heart,it was clear that his thoughts surrounding his children, sustained his life. Which is why, I spent yesterday in a fog of confusion and melancholy, when the Dean announced that on her way home from the gym on Satudary morning, Mila was struck by a speeding car just a few feet from her apartment. She was rushed to the hospital and died later that evening. I could not get the image of Professor Rainof out of my head. I felt that pain so deeply all day. I went on-line and looked for photos, articles about the event. I found so many posts and listings about her. "Mila Rainof esteemed medical student, dies at age 27." It was a very strange awakening for me on many counts. First being, that I have prayed and pleaded with God to take my life. Ever since I was a teenager, I have held this desire and longing. I beleived that as life continued with its challenges and hardships, the pain and suffering I carried and the wounds I had yet to heal would certainly engulf me. Even now, just this past January, I held that wish so close to my heart. I spent countless evenings driving around, desperately crying for God to hear my prayers, take me, bring me home. I realize now how little reverence I have had for life, my life. It's true that gratitude can be a profound teacher of appreciation, and though I do feel gratitude, my fears consistently outweigh it's potential.
I think I've mentioned that in recent weeks, my Mother and I's relationship has been strained by resistence and fear of Melissa's decision to move here. Unfortunately, our estrangement has kept us silent and turned away from one another for almost three weeks. Yesterday, without hesitation, I picked up the phone and dialed her number. When she answered, I apologized, I told her I loved her, I told her I too was scared about the future, but could we please talk, could we please come back together. She accepted my apology and I told her we would speak later that evening. When our home phone rang yesterday evening, as much as I wanted to remain cuddled watching a movie, I went to answer. My Mother told me she had bad news. Her Mother had passed away. I sat down and listened as she spoke and her sadness began unfolding. My Mother's mother, left my Mother when she was a baby. She left her to be raised by a Grandmother, who died shortly thereafter. My Mother was passed between relatives until, her Father finally claimed her and brought her to live with his new wife and four children in another city in Haiti. My Mother was 12. Though she was treated with some kindness, she was always clear of the fact the she was an outsider and I don't beleive she has ever really reconciled that belief. When she turned 17 my Mom came to the United States to reconnect with her Mother, who by then lived in Florida. For the next several years, her mother abused her repeatedly physically and emotionally. My Mother fled Florida and went to NYC were she had a half sister living. Her half sister is my fathers cousin and from there you know how the story goes. Some 20 years later my Mother reconnected with her mother and though they developed a relationship it remained dysfunctional and strained. 12 years ago, my Mom made the decision to sever ties with her motther. Her voice on the phone last night was so pained, so sad and though she stated that she felt no remorse for the time and distance between them, she longed for the feeling of loss as a daughter would or should. Through her tears, she spoke of how she never imagined her life to be this way. She cried for my brother and sister, she cried for her desire to experience true love in her life. She described her thoughts from earlier that day as she came home another evening to an empty house and sat still with an empty heart. My God, my God, these moments of such despair, they move me to a deep aliveness that I almost cannot endure. I listened for some time as she cried, all the while grateful, so grateful that I had the inclination to call and apologize on this very day of her loss. When I hung up the phone, I fell to my knees and wept for what seemed like hours. I wept for my Mother, I wept for my family, I wept for myself, I wept for my mistakes, I wept for my courage, I wept for my love, I wept and I wept. When the tears subsided, I lay in my beloveds tender embrace and listened as he gently spoke. For the first time I believed him when he said "baby, it's all going to be alright. We will think of something to make it all okay."

oui

Dreaming awake. Yes, I believe that to be true for you. It's such a dreamy life you are living and allowing yourself to inhabit, and you will disregard my dreams request.
I'm sitting here in at Starbuck's Cal State Long Beach wanting to get into this post because, as usual, I am thrilled to have gone to our site and found something new and important. More important than the preacher man who is trying to save a desperate young man and is buggin the fuck out of me right now. Talk about pain body and ego - Mine, that is. : )
I just want him to shut up. I want him to be quiet right now so I can give you reverance, the reverance you deserve, and tell you that I believe you are dreaming awake. How cool. And that you can forget the dream question - I wish I hadn't sent that question. I realize now that day to day existence isn't to look ahead but to practice inhabiting each moment and the emphasis right now for you is to stay put and see your dreamy life beautiful as it is. And it is. So forget the dreams question. I'm just happy to know you are living your flower essence filled life. That's right, Drop it right under your tongue. Let is dissolve into your cells. Just like you do so well.

Dreaming...

arabian proverb: "a friend is one to whom one can pour out all the contents of one's heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that the gentlest of hands will take and sift it, keeping what is worth keeping, and, with the breath of kindness, blow the rest away. "

I don't dream. Well, what I mean is I do dream at night during sleep but during the day, I don't. It's strange because I am aware of some longings that I could interpret as dreams or hopes. I feel them sort of brewing under the surface but then I close up shop. Squash them down...Even while reading your post Rufus, I started feeling the dread, knowing at some point in that post you would be asking us about our dreams. I love reading about yours. It's so wonderful to witness your life unfold. I am inspired and amazed.

It's almost as though I'm overwhelmed by possibility. The possibility of this or the possibility of that, why choose just one? I have yet to fully embrace the notion that life keeps evolving, my life keeps evolving. If I could really get that, then perhaps I wouldn't be afraid of just picking one. Maybe I could just surrender to picking "this" one right now knowing that it will absolutely change. The change does not always have to be bad or tragic.

I've had so much free time lately on the weekends it's unnerving. I excercise, I watch movies, I water the garden, I meet friends for lunch, I read, I eat, I drink and then the next day I wake up and do it all over again. I realize that I am not present during most of it however, I am very grateful to be doing it and recognize that one day the two entities will connect. The doer and the being-er. (is that a word?) I am hopeful that this slowing down, this open space will become confident enough to start dreaming.

Last night I had some wonderful friends come to visit me. My freind Espi and her amazingly beautiful 80 year old aunt. We sat together in my lovely studio and I listended as she shared wisdom with me about my life's persepctive. She doesn't speak any English so Espi translated her beautiful words. With love and grace she opened her bag of love and created a flower essence for me to place under my tongue several times a day all the while assuring me that this would help me shift my spirit. She talked to me about the miracle of flowers and how they are the true balance of the earth. How flowers are made from earth, sun, water and air and without any expectation live harmoniously in nature.

My life has so many beautiful moments, perhaps I'm dreaming awake?

I go to the coffee shop everyday almost these days.
Viento & Agua and order the same thing. A double americano. delicious, hot, steaming and in a big pottery cup usually too big and awkward to hold. with at least one near spill per cup....delicious.
Viento & Agua is an oasis to me in the middle of a mad mad world.
good music playin' - not too loud. just enough to lubricate my emotional brain and inspire a couple hours of good work or a couple hours of talking with strangers. Myriam, you will be glad to know, I'm trying to be less discerning when it comes to strangers and letting people in a bit more to my energy field. sometimes, i'm frustrated i did let them in and send hateful thoughts to them as they speak, but mostly i'm feeling tender towards the human condition and everybody's journey through the life.
but that's not why i'm posting so very soon after the last time i posted. (stoner) : )
Viento & Agua has a stack of angel cards and a book that defines the card you choose.
So while I'm waiting for my custom coffee ("worth the wait" is posted at the cashier and it is) I try to center myself and ask the deck, "What is it that I need to know today?" and then I pick my card. Yesterday I picked 'laughter' and the definition essentially said "lighten up, bitch".
Today, I went through the same obsessive ritual and chose 'goals'. Here is the definition. Good.

Goals -
what is your goal in this situation?
consider it from all angles.
you may be surprised with what you learn.
it may help direct you to become more clear and focused in your direction.
Great results can be achieved when positive effort is directed toward
your goals; focus on them
It is important when setting goals to carefully consider how the
thought of them truly makes you feel.
It may be time to define your higher purpose. What do you truly want
in your life? What are you aiming for? can you see or feel yourslef
being lead in a new direction? follow that lead.
There is a need for you to stretch. Follow your intuition. It is a
great time to get up and go for it.
Perhaps it is time to re-define old goals that you have set for
yourself. There is an opening of positive energy available to you at
this time. Go with it.
Maybe what you need is a good hard kick, aimed at getting you moving
in a positive direction. Move forward.
Incredible heights can be reached, but it all begins with a single
step. It's time to take that step.

So I've taken the first step. I've been sitting at this coffee bar at the window - letting the sun shine in on me - and am letting myself dream instead of work. I've forgotten how incredibly important it is to dream. It seems like the human body is so damn smart. Once you give it a taste of what it truly wants - good healthy food, time, sunlight, rest, creativity - it really won't settle for less. I've realized that I've been in a stoner state because I've not allowed my body to sit.....much like I did in Virginia and dream and rest and imagine - and so my theory is that my body's intelligence is growing in confidence...it understands that it has an influence in my life.....and that it can permeate and overtake my mind's discipline to WORK More....STAY focused ....just until the semester ends....my body creates the stoner feeling.....until I actually give into it.....does this make sense?
What do the two of you dream of? What have you been dreaming about lately? Let's keep em alive.
Here's a streaming of my trip to France......I will continue to dream it and share it with you.
Love.

My goal in this situation to let life lead me where it would like me
to go. My goal would be to experience France...Go to Europe, see it,
be there....embrace a new community..stretch....learn
french....live in a different culture...support mati....see what is
available there....maybe go to school.....keep a reverance for life
and its components...My goal? What I would like to try? I would like
to go to Rouen with my love, cook the food, go to massage
school...dance, live in a place that has a LOT of natural light coming in the windows
quiet and serene at night for good rest and a
comfortable big bed for mati and I to sleep in. A big kitchen where
we can prepare our meals.....to be healthy and explore ...to be able
to travel.....to not worry about money.....to have our bills paid and
be legitimate in the culture......I would really love to go to massage
school there....more than teaching english....more than anything.....I
would like to study massage....to continue my study of the human
body...to have the time to be able to do that .......to continue
writing......in Europe with my best friend Mati....for a year....and
then come back to our life.....here and continue teaching
anatomy......go to Mueller holistic school and get my liscence and
begin a massage practice and teach part time...that sounds wonderful
and continue to teach.....to design my own massage room to be able to
give shiatsu massages.....to continue the fascinating human body
study......that is my goal.....when i carefully consider this.....i
feel a warmth and excitement about the possibliity......
What do I truly want in my life....time with mati....time by
myself...time to write......time to study massage......time to
teach.....
--

Eeesh.

I've been walking around my life lately and getting things taken care of. but just barely. I've been in this crazy haze. And its this weird combination of excitement and being really really stoned. Its kind of like that feeling in your dreams when you're being chased but you're running in slow motion or sometimes in my dreams, I go to throw a punch and it feels like I'm really putting some power into it but in reality I'm delivering this extreme powder puff blow that doesn't even connect. Yeah. That's pretty much like its been lately. So from what I can tell, I'm not grounded. In past semesters....(I live my life by semesters) I've had significant amounts of time to absorb and process the goings on in my life. If it sounds like I'm complaining, I don't mean it to be. The events that need to be absorbed are things like: I'm moving to France in 5 months. whoa. moving to france....that means I must complete the following with a high degree of decisiveness and clarity:
1. contact a friend to care for smokey for the year
2. go to the french consulate - show proof of residency in U.S, 3 copies of valid passport, 3 applications legibly completed, proof of health insurance coverage that will be valid in france, financial guarantee showing bank balances, savings and brokerage account statements (Huh?), proof of sufficient income, pensions, dividends, affidavit of support from applicant's host family, police clearance!!?? stating i have no criminal record??!! (what if i do??!!)

yeah. i'm too stoned to even go on with the list you've begun reading above. and i realize this may not sound at all overwhelming to the well adjusted reader...but first ...there is soooo much more that i'm not saying here...secondly....i forgot. can you see the precarious state i'm in?? Eeesh.
But here's the thing I was thinking.
I'm going to figure out what my absolute best possible case scenario would be: including a mid-august visit with my dearest friends before I go and then I going to hold that energy and vision very close as I begin completing the very long list of to doos.....but right now i'm still stoned and trying to deliver a muscle, heart, lymphatic system exam in which i've misnumbered the 85 questions, didn't realize it until i printed out 40 copies of a nine page exam (oops) (stoner) and then i must very carefully label dissected cat muscles with sharp pins and scissors....and then plan a nervous system lecture that i've not started yet....
none of this would be bad if i felt more alert - more lucid....but no....i'm more your woodstock type these days...eatin' granola and swaying to the grateful fucking dead.
i love my friends. i'm tryning to check in. i'll come back soon. aug 13 is looking promising for a visit.
love.