He passed...walking with long strides, a bounce in his step and an apparent sense of direction. Telling us he has somewhere to go. Whatever was playing on that iPod, he was walking in time to it – so that his gait had the flavour of a dance. He was moving lightly on the pavement, and at speed. Not hurried, but with the quickness that comes at ease with length of leg and step. But it was his face that said the most. How hard to believe it was the facade of one projecting confidence to strangers. No, his smile was as if he were sharing a quiet joke with himself. No, not that...something had made him happy. One can only presume it was the sounds in his head connecting down into his core. That smile was... unselfconscious. True contentedness. Whatever might come, here in the now: this is him... in the moment: happy with his lot on this planet. And he glowed as he smiled.
Sitting staring into the street I find myself smiling, with a quiet contentedness in the knowledge of a fleeting moment in this day, when someone was simply happy when he thought no one was looking... must be catching...
LB, x
Thursday, April 13, 2006
mädchenenergie…
sorry for distinct lack of posting... this is a snapshot of the past 10 ten days, which has been in the writing since monday...
which i guess speaks to what's speaking to my soul...it'll probably wander all over the place.. you can pull any themes together at your pleasing...as i type, myself and jon preston are sitting facing each other on the CG sofas and nodding our heads in time to the arcade fire...
let me start by welcoming ben. nice to have you and your dreds in the neighbourhood my friend. i must also apologise that i omitted to disclose that two saturday's ago - the day i lost my wallet, ben treated me to a couple of my 'specials'. and that was before i knew i'd lost my purse. it was an oversight on my part. thank you ben. and thank you too for the gift of 'the preacher'. any comic compared to flannery o'connor has gotta be worth a look.
graphic depictions
sigfield gave me more homework. so this past weekend, brought to you by the word, disassociation, was filled with me drawing in a big sketch pad. jayne's hoping to study art therapy and we are both rather fascinated at the struggle it is for me to uncouple myself from the written word when faced with a task such as i have been given. there is something going in the need to be exacting, precise, to articulate myself in such a way that i can explain what i mean... a desire to not be misunderstood or misinterpreted perhaps? or is it just performance anxiety... words and sometimes images flow so easily when spontaneous, but ask me to write or draw and i battle with it... that's an apology as much as anything to paul for my delay in getting my work-in-progress for the greenbelt website completed... it's getting there my friend but not without a struggle... i was terrified to just find my name on the site...
group mentality
The group therapy session for Chris was a fascinating experience and he and the class seemed pretty satisfied by our performances. taught everyone a lot about the difficulties of building a safe space. the'facilitators' who were, as predicted, terrified, hardly got any of our back stories... none of us opened up any more than our individual characters would feel comfortable with in the moment... i'd definately revist the experience. it was an incredible feeling to feel one's own personality be taken over by that of my character so that i began to respond without my own consciousness worrying what the facilitators thought... there's something highly therapeutic about acting. food for thought indeed.
bibliophellation
Been reading zoe heller’s, notes on a scandal. I would have read it quicker but i put it aside for a week so the experience would last longer. but alas it's over... she uses the pen like a scalpel. chillingly cold in her characterisations and dissection of motivations. this is the kind of writing that makes me jealous. not a word out of place. superb economy. i'm not sure i'd rec this for the beach. it's too dark for sunshine. spend a day curled up in bed and read in a one-er. thoroughly gripping from start to finish.
well worth the ticket price
Tsotsi
family by choice
enjoyable hanging out time and chat with keli and mccleary on saturday. needless to say i am loving intentional time spent with the former - i think we'll do a more than okay job of this home sharing deal (we're level 5-ing as much as possible and committed to being open and honest from the get-gop about what we need to make it work) and i am excited that the pencil plan for mccleary is a return to his homeland post-greenbelt. it'll be a joy to have him back in the neighbourhood so here's hoping it all works out as he wishes.
the village
if i even start on this now i'll be writing for a week. needless to say, i watched this for the first time on saturday night with jayne, susan and 2 decidedly nervous 12 year olds, ella and julia, and LOVED it. this just might be my fave of night shyamalan's films so far. high girl power quotient. i felt this movie in my gut.
marathon
sunday night saw an instalment of club du cinema (what we call the good dr’s sunday night film showings…). Recently music's been a strong theme and we have watched, sweet charity, all that jazz, rent. sunday saw us watching all 3 of the qatsi trilogy. i think the first is worth a watch - found huge resonances with the work of coupland and GenX fears in it myself, but the second and third i don't think i'd bother revisiting, although they had some moments that were impactful.
http://www.koyaanisqatsi.org/films/film.php
received with thanks
Danke für das Buch, mein hoher Freund. ich leibe die Fotographien.
highlights in brief
padraig and i pissed ourselves laughing as we had our first league of gentlemen conversation since he bought the first series boxset.
got to talk to jude on the phone. (looks like we're hitting Provence at end of june for some seriously redemptive relaxation)
presmo and me had some intentional level 5. its a cool experience to see someone open up to you. an honour. and today he gave me some fair trade chocolate as a treat in my take away from CGs... sweet. :0)
looking ahead:
good friday to be spent with mark, willow and i hope, the mullingtons
then
saturday-monday sees a roadtrip to Dublin with jayne and ricky. we're staying with my folks and plan to make liberal use of our cameras
right. that's enough for now. i hope to get back into the swing of posting in the coming few days. this blog in the past, i realise, has been a place for grounding me. now i have sigmund, i think i'm having to reorient myself a bit. it's changed the focus of my week and i've been busy doing my homework. i've filled about 10 A2 pages with images and words. it's been hard work but it's revealing a lot of stuff to me and i've been feeling brighter amidst the transition.
love to all. may this season of rebirth bring us hard core hope and clarity.
LB, x
which i guess speaks to what's speaking to my soul...it'll probably wander all over the place.. you can pull any themes together at your pleasing...as i type, myself and jon preston are sitting facing each other on the CG sofas and nodding our heads in time to the arcade fire...
let me start by welcoming ben. nice to have you and your dreds in the neighbourhood my friend. i must also apologise that i omitted to disclose that two saturday's ago - the day i lost my wallet, ben treated me to a couple of my 'specials'. and that was before i knew i'd lost my purse. it was an oversight on my part. thank you ben. and thank you too for the gift of 'the preacher'. any comic compared to flannery o'connor has gotta be worth a look.
graphic depictions
sigfield gave me more homework. so this past weekend, brought to you by the word, disassociation, was filled with me drawing in a big sketch pad. jayne's hoping to study art therapy and we are both rather fascinated at the struggle it is for me to uncouple myself from the written word when faced with a task such as i have been given. there is something going in the need to be exacting, precise, to articulate myself in such a way that i can explain what i mean... a desire to not be misunderstood or misinterpreted perhaps? or is it just performance anxiety... words and sometimes images flow so easily when spontaneous, but ask me to write or draw and i battle with it... that's an apology as much as anything to paul for my delay in getting my work-in-progress for the greenbelt website completed... it's getting there my friend but not without a struggle... i was terrified to just find my name on the site...
group mentality
The group therapy session for Chris was a fascinating experience and he and the class seemed pretty satisfied by our performances. taught everyone a lot about the difficulties of building a safe space. the'facilitators' who were, as predicted, terrified, hardly got any of our back stories... none of us opened up any more than our individual characters would feel comfortable with in the moment... i'd definately revist the experience. it was an incredible feeling to feel one's own personality be taken over by that of my character so that i began to respond without my own consciousness worrying what the facilitators thought... there's something highly therapeutic about acting. food for thought indeed.
bibliophellation
Been reading zoe heller’s, notes on a scandal. I would have read it quicker but i put it aside for a week so the experience would last longer. but alas it's over... she uses the pen like a scalpel. chillingly cold in her characterisations and dissection of motivations. this is the kind of writing that makes me jealous. not a word out of place. superb economy. i'm not sure i'd rec this for the beach. it's too dark for sunshine. spend a day curled up in bed and read in a one-er. thoroughly gripping from start to finish.
well worth the ticket price
Tsotsi
family by choice
enjoyable hanging out time and chat with keli and mccleary on saturday. needless to say i am loving intentional time spent with the former - i think we'll do a more than okay job of this home sharing deal (we're level 5-ing as much as possible and committed to being open and honest from the get-gop about what we need to make it work) and i am excited that the pencil plan for mccleary is a return to his homeland post-greenbelt. it'll be a joy to have him back in the neighbourhood so here's hoping it all works out as he wishes.
the village
if i even start on this now i'll be writing for a week. needless to say, i watched this for the first time on saturday night with jayne, susan and 2 decidedly nervous 12 year olds, ella and julia, and LOVED it. this just might be my fave of night shyamalan's films so far. high girl power quotient. i felt this movie in my gut.
marathon
sunday night saw an instalment of club du cinema (what we call the good dr’s sunday night film showings…). Recently music's been a strong theme and we have watched, sweet charity, all that jazz, rent. sunday saw us watching all 3 of the qatsi trilogy. i think the first is worth a watch - found huge resonances with the work of coupland and GenX fears in it myself, but the second and third i don't think i'd bother revisiting, although they had some moments that were impactful.
http://www.koyaanisqatsi.org/films/film.php
received with thanks
Danke für das Buch, mein hoher Freund. ich leibe die Fotographien.
highlights in brief
padraig and i pissed ourselves laughing as we had our first league of gentlemen conversation since he bought the first series boxset.
got to talk to jude on the phone. (looks like we're hitting Provence at end of june for some seriously redemptive relaxation)
presmo and me had some intentional level 5. its a cool experience to see someone open up to you. an honour. and today he gave me some fair trade chocolate as a treat in my take away from CGs... sweet. :0)
looking ahead:
good friday to be spent with mark, willow and i hope, the mullingtons
then
saturday-monday sees a roadtrip to Dublin with jayne and ricky. we're staying with my folks and plan to make liberal use of our cameras
right. that's enough for now. i hope to get back into the swing of posting in the coming few days. this blog in the past, i realise, has been a place for grounding me. now i have sigmund, i think i'm having to reorient myself a bit. it's changed the focus of my week and i've been busy doing my homework. i've filled about 10 A2 pages with images and words. it's been hard work but it's revealing a lot of stuff to me and i've been feeling brighter amidst the transition.
love to all. may this season of rebirth bring us hard core hope and clarity.
LB, x
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
the invitation
(acting as Lynn's offical memory bank:
takk by sigur ros
the space between us by craig armstrong)
anyways, chris read this at tuesday group last night...
::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.
by
Oriah Mountain Dreamer
copyright © 1999 by Oriah Mountain Dreamer.
p.s.
i'm trying to complete a draft posting but turned out i had more to cover than i thought. but i determined to have it posted by bedtime tonight.
takk by sigur ros
the space between us by craig armstrong)
anyways, chris read this at tuesday group last night...
::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.
by
Oriah Mountain Dreamer
copyright © 1999 by Oriah Mountain Dreamer.
p.s.
i'm trying to complete a draft posting but turned out i had more to cover than i thought. but i determined to have it posted by bedtime tonight.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
5 years, so it is...
'Bout ye!
I’m sitting in Common Grounds and Baby is back up and running with juice aplenty. Although this return to technologically dependent normality is tempered by having forgotten my mobile phone today.
I’ve really missed having my iBook and the concomittent regimen of writing on a near daily basis. I’ve been longhanding in my note book but there is something altogether more therapeutic about sitting cross legged on the sofa here in my local just letting my fingers run across the keys like I am doing now and seeing what comes out.
So: i've discovered the first major benefit of therapy:
you have a shit week, and at the end of it you get to process it and work out ways to have less shit in the days ahead...
half of my homework this week is to do nice security building things for myself. i considered installing a personal portable peace line known as an iWall but my internl armour is already too heavy to carry. so here's wot i done on my weekend...
I had the kind of Saturday that even the loss (albeit temporary) of my purse and subsequent (needless) cancellation of all my bank cards could not spoil. Although I was quite impressed that I reserved my response to merely spitting out some forceful expletitives and not a full blown foot stamping tantrum that have so often been a feature when faced with such inconveniences. Is it possible that I am developing coping mechanisms? Or growing up? Or god forbid, edging toward a philosophical stoicism? Walking up to the fall’s road in the aftermath of said loss, ricky espoused the virtues of the latter but what this sermon on foot really came down to was a reminder that I had followed through on my homework, crafted a fabulous day for myself with some great contribution of some loving others and the loss of said purse was surely not enough to tip the balance. He was right. A day that started by buying desserts in st george’s market, segued to coffee and the Saturday guardian, which was interrupted by a phone call to let me know I was being given the gift of an Indian head massage by the good dr at kyle’s salon – now that’s got to be the definition of a welcome interruption, followed by a refreshing walk along the lagan tow path with stu and keli (complete with the unexpected joy of seeing a man cycling along on a penny farthing), and a trip to No Alibis bookstore, which resulted in the reserving of some graphic novels (that's comics not pornography btw and to be purchased when I get my new bank cards) under the enthusiastic tutelage of the proprietor, which led to dinner chez padraig with the aforementioned ricky and the mullingtons and the neverbeforementioned mikey, who is Padraig's housemate. Beautiful company all, entertaining chat across a range of subjects from fundamentalism to bad wedding sermons to weak bladders, and as ever, great food and wine. and port. Stocisim or no, in the balance, Saturday was a secure and nourishing day.
Sunday proved almost as beneficial and featured beautifully open conversation of a level 5 nature and laughter that went off the scale and had me in tears and more walking. Stretching the legs in the fresh air is proving good for my spirits.
Today marks 5 years of living in Northern Ireland. Such an occasion warrants some kind of marking. I couldn’t have ordered better weather and much time spent relaxing, reading and writing here has been appropriate celebration. For however different my life is now compared to this day 5 years ago, and howevermuch some of those changes are tragic and a table of comparison between the 4th april 2001 and today might suggest to the glancing passerby that things have hardly been as successful here as i might have hoped now that i am seperated, about to move home with no knowledge of where i'll end up and with no job security beyond a month at a time, I have so much to be thankful for. As I have reiterated time and again on these pages, i mark the quality of my life in the relationships i have. and i may have lost the safety of the most significant chosen relationship of my life thus far but i have spent these past few days in the company of some truly beautiful people, who shine so much. their persisant creativity and commitment inspires and enfolds me in equal measure.
there is much to look forward to this week beyond the indian head massage... jayne called to say the coat we picked out for me has arrived at the shop where she works - it's called miss loren - is utterly impractical (off white for starters) but it is fabulous and i look forward to playing dress up in it on dry days...
i'll soon be able to go and collect the aforementioned graphic novels,
and i'm going to perform an undercover operation on thursday. i'll be taking part in a group therapy training session for students that chris is teaching in the therapeutic centre where he works... i get to "play" someone with issues that make mine look a lot less scary. wednesday evening will involve going over my backstory and developing a sense of my "character" so that i can react accordingly to the 2 poor sods who are going to be thrown in at the deep end and told by chris that under the watchful eye of him and their colleagues they have to facilitate me and 4 others (all of whom i know in real life) in a 45 minute group therapy session with less than 15 minutes warning. and they don't know we're acting.
and for anyone who right now is thinking this may not be a good idea for me right now given my vulnerabalities of late, please trust that i would not be put in this situation if chris thought it would be in any way harmful to me (he hopes in fact it will be an insightful and beneficial experience), and i am "acting" (albeit without a script) in order to help the students - this will be a hands on experience for them and will hopefully help them develop skills to help others with problems like those on whom our charaters are based. i haven't acted since i was 13 and so i'm quite excited and just hope i can pull it off with some kind of authenticity. and i can't wait to see what behaviours the others are getting to improvise. chris assures me that when i see the terror in the facilitators' eyes all stage fright will disappear. yup. poor sods is right.
i will let you know how it goes.
if you are of the kind who believe that sending good thoughts into the cosmos for others is a good thing to do then would you consider doing so for Willow and Lynn, both of whom are under pressure in work.
peace be upon you. or in the words of john o'donohue... attend to yourself with courtesy and care. you are a beautiful creation. more from him in my next posting...
LB, x
I’m sitting in Common Grounds and Baby is back up and running with juice aplenty. Although this return to technologically dependent normality is tempered by having forgotten my mobile phone today.
I’ve really missed having my iBook and the concomittent regimen of writing on a near daily basis. I’ve been longhanding in my note book but there is something altogether more therapeutic about sitting cross legged on the sofa here in my local just letting my fingers run across the keys like I am doing now and seeing what comes out.
So: i've discovered the first major benefit of therapy:
you have a shit week, and at the end of it you get to process it and work out ways to have less shit in the days ahead...
half of my homework this week is to do nice security building things for myself. i considered installing a personal portable peace line known as an iWall but my internl armour is already too heavy to carry. so here's wot i done on my weekend...
I had the kind of Saturday that even the loss (albeit temporary) of my purse and subsequent (needless) cancellation of all my bank cards could not spoil. Although I was quite impressed that I reserved my response to merely spitting out some forceful expletitives and not a full blown foot stamping tantrum that have so often been a feature when faced with such inconveniences. Is it possible that I am developing coping mechanisms? Or growing up? Or god forbid, edging toward a philosophical stoicism? Walking up to the fall’s road in the aftermath of said loss, ricky espoused the virtues of the latter but what this sermon on foot really came down to was a reminder that I had followed through on my homework, crafted a fabulous day for myself with some great contribution of some loving others and the loss of said purse was surely not enough to tip the balance. He was right. A day that started by buying desserts in st george’s market, segued to coffee and the Saturday guardian, which was interrupted by a phone call to let me know I was being given the gift of an Indian head massage by the good dr at kyle’s salon – now that’s got to be the definition of a welcome interruption, followed by a refreshing walk along the lagan tow path with stu and keli (complete with the unexpected joy of seeing a man cycling along on a penny farthing), and a trip to No Alibis bookstore, which resulted in the reserving of some graphic novels (that's comics not pornography btw and to be purchased when I get my new bank cards) under the enthusiastic tutelage of the proprietor, which led to dinner chez padraig with the aforementioned ricky and the mullingtons and the neverbeforementioned mikey, who is Padraig's housemate. Beautiful company all, entertaining chat across a range of subjects from fundamentalism to bad wedding sermons to weak bladders, and as ever, great food and wine. and port. Stocisim or no, in the balance, Saturday was a secure and nourishing day.
Sunday proved almost as beneficial and featured beautifully open conversation of a level 5 nature and laughter that went off the scale and had me in tears and more walking. Stretching the legs in the fresh air is proving good for my spirits.
Today marks 5 years of living in Northern Ireland. Such an occasion warrants some kind of marking. I couldn’t have ordered better weather and much time spent relaxing, reading and writing here has been appropriate celebration. For however different my life is now compared to this day 5 years ago, and howevermuch some of those changes are tragic and a table of comparison between the 4th april 2001 and today might suggest to the glancing passerby that things have hardly been as successful here as i might have hoped now that i am seperated, about to move home with no knowledge of where i'll end up and with no job security beyond a month at a time, I have so much to be thankful for. As I have reiterated time and again on these pages, i mark the quality of my life in the relationships i have. and i may have lost the safety of the most significant chosen relationship of my life thus far but i have spent these past few days in the company of some truly beautiful people, who shine so much. their persisant creativity and commitment inspires and enfolds me in equal measure.
there is much to look forward to this week beyond the indian head massage... jayne called to say the coat we picked out for me has arrived at the shop where she works - it's called miss loren - is utterly impractical (off white for starters) but it is fabulous and i look forward to playing dress up in it on dry days...
i'll soon be able to go and collect the aforementioned graphic novels,
and i'm going to perform an undercover operation on thursday. i'll be taking part in a group therapy training session for students that chris is teaching in the therapeutic centre where he works... i get to "play" someone with issues that make mine look a lot less scary. wednesday evening will involve going over my backstory and developing a sense of my "character" so that i can react accordingly to the 2 poor sods who are going to be thrown in at the deep end and told by chris that under the watchful eye of him and their colleagues they have to facilitate me and 4 others (all of whom i know in real life) in a 45 minute group therapy session with less than 15 minutes warning. and they don't know we're acting.
and for anyone who right now is thinking this may not be a good idea for me right now given my vulnerabalities of late, please trust that i would not be put in this situation if chris thought it would be in any way harmful to me (he hopes in fact it will be an insightful and beneficial experience), and i am "acting" (albeit without a script) in order to help the students - this will be a hands on experience for them and will hopefully help them develop skills to help others with problems like those on whom our charaters are based. i haven't acted since i was 13 and so i'm quite excited and just hope i can pull it off with some kind of authenticity. and i can't wait to see what behaviours the others are getting to improvise. chris assures me that when i see the terror in the facilitators' eyes all stage fright will disappear. yup. poor sods is right.
i will let you know how it goes.
if you are of the kind who believe that sending good thoughts into the cosmos for others is a good thing to do then would you consider doing so for Willow and Lynn, both of whom are under pressure in work.
peace be upon you. or in the words of john o'donohue... attend to yourself with courtesy and care. you are a beautiful creation. more from him in my next posting...
LB, x
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