Searching for Old Dyke Tales By Lee Lynch The only information I had on old gay people when I came out was that we were doomed to be alone and thus miserable. Oh, and lesbians would have lea…
Source: The Amazon Trail
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on waking up with a mission
i am reposting this because here, in this now… i need a reminder
i am really slow but eventually it all sinks in, and the dream of happily ever after takes on a different twist. it’s time to start focusing on realizing that this is the way it is… and that it has become what has always been in the back of my mind. 30+ years ago, i had a dream. I was in the back seat of a car, just sitting there waiting. suddenly the door opened on my right and i put my left foot out into what looked like blue glass. the minute i stood up and the other foot cleared the door i spiraled up. it was the most amazing feeling and heights are not my favorite thing. it is the only dream that has stuck in all these years. most people interpret it as being about death but there was no sense of the infinite, no sense of going home so to speak, never having believed it was about a white haired, bearded old man, harps, wings and endless clouds. now going over the details still etched in my brain (soul, mind, psychie?) my hands were not young, looked more like my mom’s than my own, and my body felt soft. but there was a vitality in that spin and the fresh air and i can remember laughing and smiling and excited because finally i was doing what i was supposed to be doing and life was going to be amazing from here on out to the infinite.
so maybe all those years ago, in the midst of being “famous” and a teacher (damn good one eventually) and being a presence on stage the universe was saying “yeah, you’re a star but that’s temporary and you will have to come to terms with the fact that the infinite has decided on something a bit quieter. you will have a lot of people you will call friends but you will do what we have planned without someone at your side. and it will be amazing and you will smile and laugh and take pleasure in the simplest things and that is how you will teach.”
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On Judgement.
Inner Thoughts of An Extrovert
There used to be a girl in my homeroom class,
who always sat by the window and stared outside.
No matter the weather or the day,
all she did was focus on that same window.
She was quiet, spacey,
and a target for constant ridicule.
Teachers would yell at her to pay attention,
people would make fun of her,
but she never stopped.
Nobody knew what she was staring at,
why she was waiting,
or when she would stop.
We could only assume
what held her rapt attention.
One day,
she wasn’t at school.
The girl was always at school.
Regardless of the day–
this girl was always there.
Except, today she wasn’t.
People made jokes,
told stories about why she wasn’t there that day.
I never joined in,
but deep down,
I wondered just the same as everyone else.
After the period was over,
I waited for everyone to…
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The Liberation of Lambs
‘Liberty for wolves is death to the lambs.’
-Isiah Berlin
People often speak in similes and metaphors. We find comfort in symbolism and allegories, creating a sense of spatial separation in our minds from that which we desire and those that haunt us. Business men refer to themselves as lions when they wish to appear dominant or king-like; school children degrade one another by calling their peers a chicken, a dog, or a pussy. And a person of low morals can often be labelled as a rat or a snake.
Even free thinkers are not exempt from this kind of hackneyed pigeonholing of their peers; labelling those that they consider to be mindless drones suckling on the bosom of society as lambs or sheep.
It’s no coincidence that we choose animals to explain or understand our behaviours either. After all, we are merely another creature that rose from the primordial depths and…
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Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down.
what i am feeling but said oh so much better! excellent.
My life is on fire.
Skin burning and tingling,
your words are kindling as I go up in flames.
But you– you don’t care.
Not now, not yesterday, not ever.
Smoke from our burning memories fill my nose and eyes,
but I promised myself you wouldn’t make me cry ever again.
It stings, but it’s bearable compared to the pain I’ve felt
these last five years.
These last five very long years.
Your voice is the wail of the fire trucks in my ear,
Promising safety and security, but came a little too late.
Promises–the words that kept me chained in this old house as it burns.
each convincing, conniving letter just another metal link.
In the end, I stopped fighting–there was no longer any point.
There are worse ways to die than under your charcoal touch.
My ashes will fly away in the wind, finally free from you.
Finally…
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there’s that wall again
life looms lonely and smiles turn to ash
choices made create loneliness and loss of life creates the canyons
that the universe has chosen to bless me with
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teaching an old bitch new tricks
let me preface by saying that the bitch referred to in the title is me and is of a canine variety, not an expression of temperament… although there are some who would argue that.
recently had an accident of sorts which required a bit of surgery on left forefinger. it is truly amazing how losing the use of one digit can create such a huge change. i do hair and now that things have healed up, i fully expected everything to go back to normal… and it didn’t. so much for creative visualization. the fingertip is so hyper sensitive that running it through hair causes a kind of electrical pain shock and also makes me slightly nauseous. this is unfortunate since it is my job to “handle” hair. i am trying to desensitize it and am looking for some kind of numbing creme to use for work but until then i have to change and relearn something i have been doing for 43 years. now i understand that losing a limb or a digit can create changes that must be accepted and my forefinger problems are nothing compared to the life experiences some have to face. this particular blog entry is a simple observation of the way some accept the things the universe throws our way, karma be damned. i don’t accept them well and the temptation to whine and act the martyr is, well let’s just say tempting.
this comes on the heels of another revelation but that will be a later post. not ready to put it down and actually look at it… forces one to acknowledge its existence and i am not ready for that…
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a saturnian morning…
up at 430, wide awake and pleasantly surprised at how happy i feel. drinking coffee, juiced all the lemons and limes and put them in ice cube trays for the freezer, made 2 vegi smoothies for the day and the egg sandwich that makes up my daily breakfast. went through all the crap on the table, threw most of it away, organized 2 stacks for weekend projects, 1 recipes and 1 belly dancing. topped the morning off by ordering 5lbs of yumearth organic lollipops for the salon. i feel amazing! have a great day.
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The Lion’s Gaze
There is an ancient fable from Terma in which Padmasambhava, a literary character, appears before a Terton and teaches him how to better focus his emotions. Padmasambhava says that when a stick is thrown to a dog, the dog will chase the stick. Yet when you throw a stick to a lion, the lion chases you. A dog’s gaze will always follow the object: the stick. The lion gazes steadily at the source: the thrower.
Yep, that’s right. After a brief absence from this site I’ve returned to drop some obscure philosophy served with a side of self-indulgence on you that’s sure to leave you scratching your head wondering why the hell you’re even reading it.
But hear me out. Open your mind and be prepared to look beyond the stick and instead focus on what is really important: the thrower, and why they tossed it in the first place.
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Eclectic Haze 