Tabula Rasa........... Again.
I imagine that this has to happen eventually. It has been dragging for reasons obvious to me, but ones that I can't really share with you. All obvious things; obvious things that we have to hide behind a pretty sheet of normalcy in order to "fit" into things the way we are supposed to. This has been a difficult transition for me. As anyone who knows me can tell from my last blog, one that documented over five years of my evolution, I do not pull punches, and I sure as fuck do not candy coat anything. It would not have been possible to so successfully log a journey without documenting everything, especially the ugly stuff. I don't get the luxury of ugly stuff anymore, as much as I find beauty in it, and a strange joy in writing about it, like my own little Gonzo-esqu interpretation of the absurdities that exist in this perpetually surreal landscape. I have been absent. I dare not. Besides, I'm no Thompson. That was a stupid reference. That would require opportunities. I'm still a nobody, stuck in a little mountain town. I have been writing openly for the better part of a decade to an audience that is comparable to one that might gather around a mediocre street musician on a side road in Hollywood: most nod their approval or scrunch their face in disgust, then move on; while a few might genuinely appreciate it, at the end of the day there is barely enough change in the hat to buy a pack of cigarettes.
lAvaNyamaya came about earlier this year while I was flailing to let go of the old creative process (and girl), and start over with something new. She (the last new girl) had asked me what "Beauty" was in sanskrit, apparently thinking I was far more intelligent than what she discovered I was later. I did a little research and found 201 words for beauty or involving beauty, which were mostly loosely translated, and I am sure entirely relative to use and structure within the language itself, which I assume exists in other languages, but I don't really know because I DON'T SPEAK SANSKRIT. I live in Southern California and have worked in kitchens for the last six years and I have zero grasp on Spanish. I have always noted words that I would find in ancient and Zen literature and tried to remember them, but that rarely goes well. With that, I also have a small library of phrases in my mind from other languages that I found in strange places, but they usually go misunderstood, like immer etwas (always something)[Bukowski] and che male fortuna (that bad luck)[Hemingway], or the ever elusive aufgeben (give up)[my dad]. The latter isn't even German, but "high" German, if that's even a thing.......Amish... it's fucking Amish. The point in this language detour is that I've always been obsessed with more beautiful languages, but have never had the motivation to sit my ass down and learn them, or, god forbid, go to school and study them. Regardless, even walking away from Bukowski and Hemingway novels, little language quirks are usually the things I remember.
Amongst the clusterfuck of translations for beauty I found lAvaNyamaya, which translates to "consisting entirely of beauty"... maybe. There is a very good chance that it is relative, again, to context, like it actually might be referring to having a nice shit or something; I don't really know. So, gauging by what I wanted the word and translation to be, and what I wanted my life to be a year or so ago, I held on to it and created it as a place to transition to. Life then proceeded to happen. Promises dwindled into conditions. Dreams slowly deflated into realities. The magic turned to mundane. Nothing different really happened than what happens in every relationship: it's just life. One thing that has been severely missing from my life is writing about the day to day. In trying to become more "professional," my posts became more like little, isolated and separated events, which were also complained about for not being candy coated enough.
She complains that I don't talk enough about my emotions, like every woman (or emotionally verbose) ever, but this was my outlet; this was my place where I could really just vomit out everything I was feeling and going through, and if the girl (the last girl) cared enough to read it, maybe she would understand (insert blank face). The obvious problem here is that it's not just me anymore, it's "us"..... mostly it's us. So, I can no longer write as I, unless I basically throw her under the emotional bus, which is fine for my private journals, in my frustration, but isn't fair at all on a public platform, even if no one is reading it. That feels strange to say, but that has been my conundrum for the past six or so months.
I've been tip-toeing around potential fights and trying not to piss anyone off, but wanting desperately to continue my own literary journey, and really write about the shit that is life, which makes life consist of beauty. I need to find some sort of way to vent without making anyone involved sound like anything less than humans being, because that's what's going on. I'm not being victimized by some silly little girl's negligence; I am no longer a victim to the system, while I remain a victim to a very few, sad, ignorant minds; I am living my life with someone; I am still shooting, and want to shoot, but am navigating judgement; even in doing things the "right" way, I am not doing things like that anymore; I am desperate to write, but fighting with my Zen understanding from 2015 that I am basically useless; I am usefully useless. I'm sure there is a balance in there somewhere.
Lavanyamaya (I have no idea why the A and N are capitalized, because, that's right, I don't speak fucking sanskrit), consisting entirely of beauty, has become a beautiful little irony in my life. Everything is beautiful, even if it means staying up all night explaining the same thing over and over to someone who doesn't seem to hear it, or dodging dishes because you may or may not have been "cold" when you got home. It's all beautiful, and it's all absurdly hilarious. It is life. Life is ridiculous.
How's that for a random, odd collection of photopraphs?
*waits for fight to happen*
I thrill and respect your mind full and consistent struggle to seek, find and document the beauty in and around you. There is a vast amount of Integrity underneath it all that I find inspiring. Coming from a place of honesty, using integrity to reach your destination, that of the beauty of living --and your commitment to this new part of you(this new partner you have and the family she is giving the both of you...keeping that blessing in mind as you write about her...surely would not , by and by, cause any one to accuse you of "complaning' or her to feel as though you have written her to be "less than human'. If striving to be more "pro" in your blogging/writings is a goal you are transitioning to, do it by keeping honor and love and honesty and beauty and integrity as your frame work. Ask yourself what would the this piece of my soul on the screen translate to in my most loved ones hearts and minds and life were you to pass, and all your daughter or best friend or mist compassionate stranger that you never met--what would you written record begin and end with in that framework--how would it affect there day to day existence. Write about now to your future self and your lives to be.if the struggle you feel has a scent of conformity to it, don't fight it, get to studying it, ask as many questions as it needs to understand the why of it --and then honor the findings in your writing, realizing the struggle was not trying to kill your hard won evolution, the struggle is a messenger trying to show you I inner gold hidden inside you that you need to excavate via wrestling and getting to know the components that formed the resistance you feel. Cause maybe the initial look of the resistance seems to threaten your ego so you may want to run from it, when underneath the 'normalicy' there is wisdom to gain that will open up more acceptance and beauty. A paradigm shift is what needs to infiltrate your fears and doubts, same as all of us that are seekers of the better Good, us light keepers. If a balanced is found she will find all she seeks in you by reading your posts and she will fall in love deeper and be enriched by it, even if some of your truth pulls at her ego because if it. My husband Mark and I used to pray together every night for like 6 months, just a few minutes of hearing what he prayed for allowed me in to his emotional world better and faster than hours of talking at random would ever do. Make your writings a prayer, as for or describe victories in your writings and offer then up as your gift to her and all who read this post...step out of your day to day at night when you write it all down, then step into your inner higher self and ask Him to edit your findings with whatever parameters matter to you the most, and I'm betting joy and ease, freedom from the normal into the plane of the spirit, and glory:these emotions and other like them as you press PUBLISh will let you know your on the healthiest and most authentically human path. Who won't , by and by , be able to accept and be great fun for such parts of you coming to life in your shared written reports in your existance?
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