Some(no)thing

 

Writing negative was my way of pushing toward the positive. I realize that people got sick of hearing it, my life. I say it's been a rough couple years, or 12, but it is all what I wanted. Only after I decided I didn't want that tortured genius ideal was I able to escape, somewhat. It took a couple years in the desert by myself, and extensive exploration into my being an idiot, but I managed to get out of it. I managed to force a beautiful life, only to find it to be mundane. I can't argue anymore. This is my muffled disappointment. Maybe that's just life? Maybe there is no beautiful place, really, just subjective delusion. That's what they keep telling me: enlightenment doesn't feel any different, it's basically just understanding what it all really is. In my naivety, in dokusan, I asked Tenshin Roshi why everything was so focused around suffering, pointing out that it seems

to only perpetuate the misery: life is suffering. The response I got did not refute the suffering, but redefined it, or legitimize the mental science argument. I don't imagine I have anything figured out. I suppose I got caught up in the subjective delusion. One thing I love about Buddhism, that seems to overshadow my hatred for any and all religions on a fine print level, is the discipline involved. I stopped shaving my head. Tenshin also mentioned that you hit a kind of wall after studying for about 18 months. I haven't even started "studying" yet. I just work, and ask stupid questions.

People get stuck, and it's ok for people to get stuck. My writing about it was my way of putting it out there and letting it go. Only, in my particular case, things just kept getting worse. When I thought they were getting better again, I quickly discovered the painful truth that things just are how they are. What I need to figure out is how to accept that without falling into the subjective delusion, which really just makes you question the relevance of life...again. I was done a while ago. I wait. I kept doing what I love because I felt like it was making some kind of difference; I already have serious problems with delusion. Maybe I gave up on people because everyone is stuck. Maybe the profound thought here is that the precious few get unstuck, "unfucked." After I suffered accidentally killing someone in 2008, and was very open about not wanting to live my life like that anymore, I was told to "unfuck myself." The better part of a decade later my life is considerably less fucked, but life itself seems to not have gotten the memo. I'm fine. Nothing happens. "Let's accomplish something beautiful" seems the motto of some old bum, wandering aimlessly down the no-streets.

I still fail to understand why so many people settle for mundane when they could be a work of art. I still fail to understand what "art" is. No one seems to be able to give me an answer that will settle the debate, so it remains subjective delusion.

She punishes me because I won't tell her what's wrong. If I could define it, I could fix it. Should I go back to trying to define it and make myself unreadable again? like this crap? There is a punchline here. Do you see the punchline?

Life keeps going; the world keeps spinning; infinite death and birth; we are insignificant specks that sometimes have the opportunity to reflect light on the other specks; but most only want to be great in relation to what they are conditioned to believe great is, which is mundane, hamster-wheel bullshit. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow...

This is just my frustration. This is just an uncontrollable drive in me to do what no one else seems to be interested in: extraordinary. There must be something wrong with me. There must be...

My little mountain town smells like winter. I'm cold. I refuse to wear a jacket because I don't want to be cold.

The zen lesson is to let go of everything and do this. Don't worry about how big of a failure you are, or how disappointing you are, or whether you fit in anywhere, ever, just do this. It's cold; wear a jacket. Life sucks; do the dishes. Nothing happens; do nothing. People don't read; stop writing. They don't want extraordinary; stop trying.

I just wanted to do something beautiful.

Everything is beautiful.

The future will be what it will be. I am excited for everything that will come. I just wish it would fucking start, but if it did I would miss out on the journey getting there, and in the journey is the story. Right? I'm not shooting like I used to, or writing like I used to, but ...

... nothing is like what it was... so... I'm figuring this out now... thus.

Everything is as beautiful as it is.

After Yokoji (idab ws blog)

The time has come for me to lift my head out of the water and gasp for air.

I have been all over the place, and no where.

Never have I choked on words quite like I do now, feeling the glare of seemingly everyone, waiting for me to say something so they can complain about what I said or how I said it. Things are how they are; they are never how you thought they would be.

I am still here; I am still doing this; it may be in little incomprehensible grunts, like air escaping your lungs that happens to brush your vocal chords, but it is still what it is.

You may not have noticed, but I have been missing; absent. So much has happened but nothing happens. I have been struggling with self, strangling self, while searching for purpose in the infinite clusterfuck of endless life. Words have lost their meaning. Photos have lost their significance. All that's left is breathing.

In the meantime I stuttered out this website.

On July 10th I attended my first sesshin at Yokoji, having only "sat" twice at Sunday services that my girl took me to. Yokoji was founded in the early 80's by Maezumi Roshi, whose children I went to school with, but I didn't realize it until about 6 months ago. Yokoji was created to be a mountain training center to accompany ZCLA, the Soto center in LA. I was conscious of this place by the time I was in high school, it being just down the mountain from my little mountain town, but I was always terrified to poke around there because I felt like an imposter. This girl that found me basically forced me to check it out in February, the 22nd (that's important), and in July, shortly after officially moving back to my little mountain town, I attended this "beginner's mind" sesshin... a little too conveniently perfect... in exchange for work. I would go on to spend three days a week working with Tenshin Roshi and Jokai for the following couple months. By "working" I mean digging ditches, pouring cement, roofing, staining decks, weed-wacking, and recently remodeling a bottom corner of the Zendo. Any time I mention being interested in "officially" training to attain monkdom, I am met with wonderfully Zen answers, like "right here" to "where do I start." My interest in everything has left me somewhat disappointed by everything, but I keep showing up and keep working, because I said I would, and that's who I am. Most of the summer the center was closed due to potential flash floods from fire damage a couple years ago, so there was nobody there but the few who lived there. I'm not going to lie, it felt pretty amazing to be included in such an intimate group, being a total outsider. Recently I got a job in an amazing kitchen, so I've only been able to help out at the center on my day off, and the training period at the center has begun, so a lot of people are showing up that I don't know. I had found comfort in this place, but I'm starting to feel like the stuck wheel. I still feel like an imposter, but, strangely enough, this is where I always wanted to be. I feel like I need to take this with me. As my luck would have it, this job that I love, and got to help support this family that is learning to love me, makes it nearly impossible to train like I want to. I'm not harboring any resentments, I'm just doing what I need to do today.

I feel like all of this information is irrelevant.

I feel irrelevant....... Zen relevant.

The beginner's mind sesshin opened my eyes to a lot, not just that I was capable of sitting still for an hour and endure the pain of sitting for an hour four times a day. In this last week I attended two days of a seven day sesshin, where I would go on to make a "doom and gloom" comment in dokusan that I don't think Tenshin or Jokai will let me live down very soon. I have made a fool of myself a lot. This last sesshin showed me that I have finally become comfortable enough on the cushion to fall asleep... so..... that sucks.

This summer has sped by. I've accomplished a lot, but I've shot no one. This has been the year of the cancellation, until I finally just stopped making plans with models. Honestly, I've been busy cramming my life into someone else's, learning to deal with a 1.5 year old again, and now devoting most of my time to a kitchen.

We sometimes find things to shoot when we are out and about, but it's not really what she wants to do.

This has been a rough year.

This has been a beautiful year.

This has been everything and nothing.

This has been I don't know what.

I don't know.

Right now I'm just trying to keep my head above water.

Tomorrow, I'll deal with tomorrow.

Now what?

Write a book?

Why?

Keep shooting?

Why?

Everything is empty.

I don't know if I like that or not.

I don't know if I like.