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Does this make me a Born Again? A.k.a. RevolutionBEATS

22 Nov


I spent a great deal of my life making sure everyone knew I was fine. Everything was great.

Don worry abaout-et.

 I got hit by a car when I was six because I wasn’t paying attention outside of the church my family and I sometimes went to (for ten minutes or so before midnight mass on Easter—for the cheap thrills of fireworks and that cool candle lighting ceremony that happens). Except this time I was alone and I was walking home. My leg was bleeding, it wasn’t that serious, but the dude that worked at the church was very concerned. The only thing I said to him was “don’t tell my parents about this” and I treated him like he had done something wrong.

I was angry.

Not that I got hit by a car, but because I was seen getting hit by a car. And I wanted to make sure no one else found out about it.

Especially my parents.

This was my nature. I did this with everything you could possibly ever think of. I was such an angry child and it seemed with each person I came into contact with through the years my anger grew greater and more vicious. You always hear about how people try to be courageous or brave and try to mask their insecurities and fears, never knowing that what’s braver and more courageous is the act of expressing and losing sight of consequence.

For example, here are a few things that I got scared of:

Stagnancy and complacency, interacting with someone who refuses to like me (an uncommon occurrence really), that the people I love will get hurt, that I will end up alone and unloved. Expressing that I sometimes feel unlovable: too ugly or too fat to love. Or perhaps the underlying theme of it all: that I am unworthy of my greatest dreams, for whatever reason I decided once when I was a toddler or whenever you pick up yo crazy.

 Writing these things out makes them seem so silly.

Writing them publicly in your blog makes them sound insane.

 This is what Brenee  Brown, and so many others she has drawn from, means when she says vulnerability is strength. What happens when you transcend your neuroses is that you derive knowledge and love from them.

You understand better. You have more courage.

 How nice it is to wake up from a reality and realize it wasn’t real. It was basically a dream. It was never true, it wasn’t based on truth. You live your whole life believing an illusion about yourself until you don’t and all of a sudden you’re light, free and happy about the world and you’re finally ready to inherit it.

I’m hoping that someone who’s ready to read this will come across and become inspired to fearlessly look into their lives, their choices, their minds, their reactions and feelings and to have the courage to understand that they couldn’t be more beautiful or worthy of all the gifts that are so freely available to us in life.

#OWNED

#soflysofresh

Also, this is what Charlie Chaplin looks like without makeup on:

Positive Daily Affirmation From Master Yogi Poppins

7 Oct

Thinking is so very overrated.

I used to pride myself on intellect, on understanding, on maintaining a grasp on reality. Frequently, on maintaining a leg up on reality and making decisions for the well-being of my future and I had the suspicion that placing this much concern on how things will work out would find a way to bite me at some point. A suspicion that it was too much. But I never thought the very act of thinking would find itself obsolete that all this concern was truly in vain and that, to an extent, this much effort would be in vain. The more you care the better you are right? The more you want, the more you desire, the more alive you are maybe? That’s the same thing as passion?

The thinking, the stress, the anxiety, the worry, the over-analyzing, so much of it is a direct contradiction to the enjoyment of life. There’s a time for thought and for planning, sure, but that isn’t all the time! Just sometimes. And the rest of the time should be for enjoying. And that’s it.

I feel like anything’s possible now, because it is. And this thinking has gotten me away from what’s probable because I’m not in a place to judge what’s probable and, to a larger degree, what’s probable is a function of my own thinking that any objective reality would render.

That’s some quantum shiiiii.

Also part of this was inspired by my one of my closest friends, who was telling me about her insights on our chat conversations from five years ago and she held the rather cautious perspective that we are still in the same spiritual and mental orientation we held back then. But then I thought, well, of course we do, we still think about life the same way. It’s all been “in the future”, “when I”, “what I should do”, “you know what we need is…”-this is what we did, maybe what we still do, imagining a time when we have all the resources we need to do the things we want. Breathing life into this illusion that we need more to do the things we someday want to do.

What a separation that is, and how faulty. I have the things I need to do the things I want to do right now. I can do something I’ve been wanting to do for a while in five minutes if I wanted to. Plus we already said the worry about things not working out doesn’t exist because it’s a waste of time. There is no such thing as failure, and if you create a definition for what it means and you decide that you will then you will.

There is such a thing as experiencing love, joy and triumph in your life. All the time. You can do that every day if you want to. Your life can be filled with triumph, joy and love every day. If you want to. Joy, triumph, love, expression, resonance, understanding, learning, moving, doing, laughing, all that great nice happy stuff.

That’s such a great thing to believe in, and if I believe in it, then that’s what my life will be like. Just great things happening all the time and everything will be awesome forever.

I can thank the Tao of MP for that. Love you so much, Mary. You knew it all along, Mary!

BOOM AMEN SISTA OUT

Antidisestablishmentarianism, 2KOOL4SKOOL

24 Jul


When I went to college for the first time, I was sorely—dramatically disappointed. In everything—the system, the professors, the infrastructure, the people that went. It was very difficult to make friends because I was full of hate—something I thought was very unfair at the time. It was pandemonium.

The thing is, I couldn’t have been more delighted to go and embark on a profound mental journey. A magical place where merit and intellect served as hooks for latching onto the weave of substantive learning was exactly what I wanted to attract into my life and eventually I did, but not before a demoralizing search riddled with failed attempts at connecting more intimately with professors.

Wink wink. JkJk.

But seriously. I didn’t really want the college experience. I had lots of friends already, I hated beer pong and everything that came with it; I didn’t need someone to hold my hand, I needed someone to light me up. I spent a great deal of effort fighting with the administration over various annoyances that only seemed to waste time: parking, off campus/on campus, study abroad, taking classes without pre-requisites. Then there’s the one time I was unjustly accused of plagiarism.

Made me go ballistic.


 In a world where colleges don’t make money and students only go to college for the joy of learning (and not because it’s what you do), I would have gotten exactly what I was seeking—and without a moment’s hesitation. I wouldn’t have had to fight through countless disengaged professors to find the few diamonds in the rough (that are now destined to know me forever).

 But more importantly: I could have cultivated an environment that would have worked to enhance my contributions to society, not stifle them.  All’s not lost of course, it was still years of my life that went on and I still learned stuff… and yet I think… why does it have to be such a fight.

DAMN IT.

 Keeping with the vagabond theme of today, I think you’ll appreciate this video. If you can manage to listen to a 33 minute video that’s more of a recording…

I think you should.

JU Get ET? Tao. Pow. Love.

23 Jul

 

I mean… Yes.

I’ve done the Forum and the Advanced Course which are two seminars provided by Landmark (in exchange for money) and I feel pretty good. It was like an integration, communication overhaul.

I’ve learned the following things about myself:

  • I’m a lot more selfish (entitled, manipulative, self absorbed—but you already gathered that last one) than I thought I was (and I already had come to terms with the very consoling belief that “we are all selfish to a degree, OBV”)
  • I don’t listen and I never have because I’m so busy talking
  • I assumingly enter situations thinking I already know how things will go, and oftentimes the mind points to a negative resolution because fear of failure is always present and indulged, somewhat religiously
  • I would be more capable of manifesting the things I want in my life if it weren’t for the many shackles of the past I choose to carry around with me

That last one is pretty abstract and I get that… but if we think about kids, and how smart they usually are, we can start to see that if we embodied their same craving for curiosity and unabashed expression of spirit, we would realize a potential that frequently remains untapped. I know this isn’t a groundbreaking concept, but it is one worth exploring. Each of us can be invited to entertain how they might perceive the world if they had this fresh pair of eyes, which, in many ways is far more liberating than our tired, cautious eyes would ever allow us to be.

 Kids serve as such an excellent example. They don’t know anything. Sort of… and we foolishly believe that because we teach them the ways of the world, that they act as vessels which we fill with the knowledge we possess. Things like what’s appropriate according to societal convention, what to be careful of, what to fear and what to protect yourself from. Then we try and teach them good stuff too, like what kind of pursuit will turn the odds in your favor and what it means to embody the higher ideals of grace, honor, strength and courage.

 And what’s too bad is these higher ideals mean different things to different people.

 I think we’ll be talking about things like this for a while, there is so much to say. But lets not be sad for this moment of sobriety. Instead we rejoice, for all the expansion, exploration and expression to come!

 

The universe is a strange strange place…

9 Apr

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My online persona has been acted out by strangers.

I recognize how strange that sentance was to write and to read, but I guess I’ll get that out of the way now: Someone played me in a play, in front of my very eyes. I didn’t know what to expect, since this has never happened before. To anyone I know. It was a black box play, so the only thing that was lit up was the stage which was almost surrounded by 50 or 60 seats. Some of you might be wondering why this happened: I don’t know why.

I have no idea why.

The actors were prop-less and used only the lines in our posts and the conviction in their voices. That sheer will alone was truly inspiring. I couldn’t believe they memorized these posts. They’re taking from blogs, so it’s not like they’re brief little snippets. These are long winded, descriptive, sometimes arduous posts that the actors executed cue free in front of all of us. Not only did they not mess up or forget, they made the posts attractive and were very effective in stimulating the crowd’s attention. These people had read through this material for months and they were probably very nervous on Wednesday (opening) night and just did an awesome job.

There’s so much I want to say about this event and I’m going to try and tackle almost all of them in order of importance:

1. The actress that played me was SO COOL.

She: Told me about her own teacup collection and her fascination with snow suits, had good style, went to the Beehive with us as her friends and my friends all had after-show drinks, we exchanged business cards and found out we had people in common through other people and I hope we become friends who hang out. Her blog was listed on her business card so i went on it to see what the deal was and it turns out that she mentions the potential-me in one of her posts (before we met) and her description of potential-us was:

“In an alternate universe where we meet before i played her blogger personality in a show, we would’ve been those cool friends who wear vintage clothes without trying too hard and we make fun of hipsters at bars in places like Harvard Square or Allston where we may or may not also sort of be hipsters but would never admit it.”

Uncanny.

2. My friends came and showed support, which I just love. I already celebrated a birthday party about three weeks ago and the idea of forcing more people into a situation where I, essentially, monopolized attention again seemed too much. But they came out anyway, with very little notice, and that’s why I love my friends. Also, the perplexity of this event isn’t lost on them, since most of them greeted me with raised eyebrows and smug smirks at the introduction of each post they recognized only through the characteristic tone I couldn’t objectively describe. I’m sure they could.

At one point, during the play’s rendition of my Bucket List post (which I found a surprising choice), all of the actors were up reciting the various tasks I’d like to accomplish before I died. Some serious and intimate, some silly, all very readily screamed: “These are Irene’s Goals Duh”. As our eyes darted from each actor, and, then amongst each other, in what ended up resembling a fireworks display of cognative, emotional and volitional brian activity, I just kept thinking about how fantastic this all was.

I wish I had written: “Have my life written into a play of some sort and then go see it” on my bucket list. Who would have thought something like that was possible.

I gotta start making my dreams, hopes and wishes a bit more creative.

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I’ll settle for five out of six.

Fame. Blogoliloquy Boston Fun. And I’m gonna live forever.

2 Apr

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This isn’t a real blog post. I mean, it exists, obviously. If someone reads it and shrieks in disappointment, and no one is around to hear it, did the post still get read? Or however that analogy is supposed to go? Yes.

But what I’m here to talk about today is: my blog (along with 5 others) is being made into a show! Yay! If you think this is unfortunate, I’m SORRY. I can’t please everyone.

I know I’ve mentioned this before, but, it’s happening this week! Yay again!

What I would like is to reach a level of fame where I can get paid to show up at parties. You know. Cool parties. And I’ll wear supercool free clothes designers send me in neutrals and have my picture taken as I’m looking, earnestly and complacently, into the camera. Obviously if this happens enough, I’ll have to move somewhere near the airport for practical reasons. Then I’ll sit and count my money in the privacy of my gorgeous castle fortress and laugh manically with the light of sweet dreams realizing, resonating, from the twinkle in my eye. I’ll make my way towards the vista bestowed upon my balcony and offer the world my dazzling song.

Ah the future.

But for now: buy tickets to this show if you want: Here

The show is called Blogoliloquy by Turnstyle Theatre.

4/4/2012 – 4/7/2012
Turnstyle Theatre Company
BCA Plaza Black Box @ Boston Center for the Arts

Wed/Thurs: 7:30 PM
Fri/Sat: 8:00 PM
Sat: 3:00 PM

I think I’m going on Wednesday! In case you’re an Internet friend and you want my autograph.

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Zebra Tea Time

21 Nov

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You really have to treat yourself every once in a while. Money’s only good for so much, and, really, paying for an experience is a gift– a privilege that isn’t bestowed on as many as you might think. One of my friends took me to tea at Upstairs on the Square. I had never been before, it felt like being inside Alice’s Wonderland.

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I’ve found a blog that’s gone out and rated places that are open for tea. They gave Upstairs on the Square a 90%. As did I. I’ll always knock off ten percent points for not having macaroons. I don’t see what the big deal is. I know they aren’t necessarily easy to make, but they’re never around. I’m in the midst of a confectionery dream, sitting on a firm, stuffed pastel purple suede booth–next to a three tiered silver platter–anticipating macaroons. There were little finger sandwiches, profiteroles, tarts, scones and cakes. Everything but macaroons. Why.

The Taj reigns supreme– the only other establishment to beat out Upstairs on the Square–with 96%.

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Next up: The Taj. Then the Athenaeum. Then Novel Cafe at BPL. Julien Lounge at Langham hotel has flower teas that open up in hot water just like in that scene from Marie Antoinette! L’Espalier has tuna profiteroles in the shape of a swan! From what I understand, none serve macaroons.

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