On storytelling

April 19, 2013 § Leave a comment

Sometimes I think that a story is just putting two unlikely things together and trying to make sense of it, seeing what happens, letting the two things repel, swirl and then merge into an impressive concoction for our memory to store away like preserves in a dark, cool cellar. The end.

Poetry vs science

April 10, 2013 § 2 Comments

Why do we say our feelings come from our heart?
It’s true that intense emotional reactions can inspire fluttering abundunce in our chests
But the heart is an organ of many
Why do we swoon over the pump that keeps us going?
Maybe we think of feelings blooming from our heart because emotions are what keep us going
Feelings are
our pump
and when we cannot feel
we stop

Furious Rabbit

April 4, 2013 § 11 Comments

The furious rabbit has been rattling its cage today. It is carrying out its usual business of tearing up the inside of my heart, lungs, and stomach. It runs its path of busy, futile escape again and again.

The furious rabbit is my anxiety and I am its helpless pet. I didn’t realize this comparison until a friend admitted his anxiety to me the other day and I said, without thinking first, “Oh yes, I know, it’s the furious rabbit”. As the recognition spread across his face, I realized that this simile had been a secret I didn’t know I was keeping. I had given my demon a face, some fur and some really long ears. The furious rabbit is just an innocent being born from all the goodness in humanity but because it has lived so long trapped inside my body, it has eaten holes in my insides and started gnawing on my system wires, growing too large for its cage and scratching and scrambling for a way out. It senses that it will never be free and this tiny flame of knowledge ignites a fire in its feet. Furious furious rabbit churning me into a storm of fear and paranoia. Settle down you touched fucking creature. Let me sleep and breathe and smile like the others.

And then I went to yoga. « Read the rest of this entry »

Grief or Memories of Sally

March 28, 2013 § Leave a comment

Grief lurks in the most unexpected places. Like the lecherous single man in the seamy bar, it leans in the creepy corners of our bodies and comes lurching out of the dim light to startle us out of our busy, happy moments.
When I get sick in the car, always as a passenger, most often on winding roads, I usually experience the unpleasant shock of the most particular smell. It’s the stench of my childhood dog, Sally, panting at the back of the car as she gradually dried out after a swim in a river or creek. On long road trips my dad would stop at some spot he had noticed while coming around a bend, never a designated rest stop with signs, toilets, garbage bins and picnic tables, never assigned social encounters with other people wearing wrinkled country traveling clothes and eating humid snacks. We would stop at his spot and get out to quietly explore a place that felt like ours for fifteen minutes. Sally was allowed the most uninhibited enthusiasm for the experience and she would run over her own legs just to get into the crisp water as fast as possible. I always envied her as she splashed, plunged, and grinned her way through the rushing stream named something like Otter Tail River or Castle Creek. On the hotter days I longed to join her and feel the rocks on my feet as I submerged myself in the clean, wild relief. Oh sometimes, we took our shoes and socks off, or gathered handfuls of water to our faces but no one was as free as the dog. « Read the rest of this entry »

It is

March 24, 2013 § Leave a comment

isn't it

I confess, I’m awesome

March 24, 2013 § 10 Comments

Here is the post in which I tell you about my own “mental health”. Can you even read that without cringing and wanting to leave? Me neither. While I hope you enjoy this experience of selective honesty, I ask you to be generous about the pace of it. I need you to understand that I cannot share all of it at once. It isn’t a grocery list or a river of narration in stereo. It isn’t ordered or poetic or even particularly interesting to anyone but me. To me it is both amazing, as is the first cell I started from, and mundane, like the way I part my hair after I wash it in the shower.

I’m learning more and more that people really like it when you share yourself. Now I’m not looking for likes here, I’m only searching for a deeper connection to myself and therefore to you and ultimately to the Great Pulsing Now-ness. So. In the spirit of extending my humanity to you as a plant turning toward the sun, I confess to you, I’m awesome. « Read the rest of this entry »

Yours Troutly

March 23, 2013 § Leave a comment

Dear Future Trout,

I am writing to you from the past. I hope you are taking care there, in that future that none of us is supposed to think about if we ever hope to achieve enlightenment, which in itself cannot exist without the concept of future but never mind that now. Listen Future Trout, Everyone is going around defining Itself in this public parade of inside-out masks called the internet, and I think it’s high time you made your own statement. Declare yourself. Step away from under the burnt-out light bulb and show your naked face in the laser bright machine screens. Here, I’ll start.

I’ll tell you about something that I, Past Trout, called Speaking Freely. At the present moment, which will be your past, I’m the only one who knows about the movement. It’s a revolution of one but I believe in its sweeping power all the same. Basically the movement relies on a concept currently known as, “making the world a better place”. Do you have that there, in the future? I really hope so. Please tell me the future is the better place we all dream about. The current world seems to be having what we’re calling a mental health crisis. The human species is shaping a suicidal world and Earth is slowly turning into a psychiatric hospital with no staff. And none of us are seizing the opportunity to speak freely now. We’re all so busy recording our lives for the future that we are pouring our present voices down the drain. I hope you’ve got a whole happy world of Free Speakers there, in the future, and that the oppressive shepherds of fear are the minority, instead of the other way around, the way it is now, in your past.  « Read the rest of this entry »