Independence and freedom may seem similar and connected but not always certain that is true.  

I am thinking about diversity and privilege.  I find it easy for white, middle class folks to talk about independence and freedom as "siblings" but i have known many folks that are very independent but do not enjoy the same freedoms that white folks do.  White folks go shopping in a mall and can do so without being followed.  can drive their cars at night without being stopped for "driving while Black".  they can interview for a job without their color being the most distinguishing factor.  Can go to college without every white person questioning if they got in because of affirmative action, which for the record has aided an advanced white middle class women more than all the people of color collectively.

So no, i do not think independence and freedom are connected, except for those who already experience freedom.  I would write more but i am getting fired up and don't want to turn this into a rant any more so than i have already.

Peace, michael

Offense #2 expressed itself earlier today.  We were cleaning and scrubbing living room walls of the apartment that the couchsurfing host is moving out of tomorrow.  The walls are being scrubbed because the apartment has served as a bit of a shrine for a small community of friends who have expressed and shared their love and experiences with life together all over these walls.  I will go further into what these walls look like in another piece and have discussed it briefly in the beginning of this one.

I do not even remember the subject matter we were discussing while listening to the hosts computer pound out music for 13 hours straight.  She, one of the folks who have slept in this shrine the last year, had said something that provided an opportunity for what I perceived as humor.  It was something about women that just left me smiling and I said with that smile on my face, “But that doesn’t really matter since women can’t read or write anyway.”  The two other men in the room, one the host and the other a young man who is a student at the school he teaches at, both clearly understood that I was playing.  She did not.  She stared at me as if I had killed a child.  I felt her stare go through me and stab me in the spine.  I let her know I was kidding, as did the host, but she did not change her facial expression- hard, cold and angry with tight lips, squished forehead and piercing eyes.  About twenty minutes later, we were conversing about some female musicians and I again playfully asked a similar question, “I wonder how they remember the lyrics since women can’t read or write?”    I received the same response as before.  This time the stare was even more forceful and I felt it in my veins and bones, her blue eyes were no longer the soft blue that greeted me for the first time the night before last.  They were now cutting me up in pieces and not even noticing the blood. 

I walked over to her, looked her in the eyes and casual asked her, “Do you want me to stop with these jokes?”

Firmly she answered, “YES!” without any affect in her face or voice. 

And that was Offense #2.

Later in the day we were driving in her car alone together, due to the fact that her car was towed while were scrubbing and she had left her wallet in the car.  I was the only one with cash.  I paid for her impounding and we were driving in her little red car to her bank to reimburse me for the $80. 

I asked her “Why were you so bothered earlier knowing I was kidding?”

She clarified her position carefully stating that, “Here in Virginia, women are still treated as something less than men.  We are expected to not think and many women still do not know how to read or write.  Also, at UVA there is a terrible lack of support for women raped on campus and often they are not even believed and blamed.  Jokes can be rude and hurtful.  They often speak of something the person telling the joke really feels.  And, they make awful situations and circumstances become regular and accepted.”  She said this all with a mix of a soft but firm voice that at times reached for a sense of power and dominance over me, or those I represent.

I repeated back to her what I thought she said in my words before expressing any of my own thoughts, experiences or feelings.  She acknowledged my version and then I responded slowly and respectfully, “I believe humor has an incredible power to heal and impact on teaching us how to deal with intense and sensitive issues.  I think we all have gotten to uptight here in the U.S. with of all our issues to the point that there is no room for healing or productive conversation with everyone afraid to say anything wrong.”

“I just don’t want it to ever be normal for women to be treated the way they are and sexually assaulted without proper support.”  She was quick to reiterate her position.

I shared that, “Neither do I!  My mother did not graduate high school.  I think she only went to school through sixth grade.  When my parents got divorced back in 1973 when divorce was still new, she had to take very low skills, low-income work to get by.  She only became somewhat successful because she refused to fail, not because she had the opportunities to do so.  I understand what you are speaking about first hand.”

Her gaze and posture softened somewhat but not completely.  “It is like there are things that Black people say to each other that white people cannot say to them.”

“Funny you should bring that up.” I said with my voice becoming more relaxed.  “It turns out that most of my male friends happen to be Black.  My two closest male friends are both Black and we worked together for the last four and half years.  And the thing they love the most about me is that I do make those jokes with them daily.  We have open conversation about race and every other issue in many ways that can be humor one day, frustration the next and intense conversation the day after that.  They know I respect them and will share when I do have prejudices and they will with me.  The difference is that we have a relationship with trust and you and I just met.  I am sorry I hurt you and disrespected you.  I was just having fun.  I just think we all need to lighten up about all these issues.  I know you disagree and I am totally Ok with that.  I am not trying to convince you I am right, just clarifying why I do what I do.”

She accepted my apology and dropped me off where I was going to play chess with a guy I met at the sweat lodge and campfire the night before.  Our goodbyes were mostly formal and without connection. He beat me the first game and we didn’t get to finish the one I was winning, just like the day before.

Regardless of the harm and situation, I do not like offending and hurting people, especially those that do not know me and the way I interact with the world.  This is my own doing.  I do appreciate stirring the pot.  I am learning that I need to be mindful of the people that are in the copper kettle that I am placing the wooden spoon in.  Some get burnt rather quickly and do not allow the seasoning to flavor and provide the desired texture to produce a new creation- unique and fresh, some do not.  An uncooked or overcooked meal rarely meets are expectations or satiated anyone. 

I am a pot stirrer. It is a challenging “occupation” but I believe necessary for us to move from eternal discourse to a true and sustainable shift.  We need commitment, focus and intention but I think we also need some playfulness to take the edge off, allowing opportunities for growth and development.  I am still working this out and need to be mindful which ingredients get thrown in the pot before stirring with my wooden spoon too fast or too hard.  Sometimes for a dish to come out perfect, we need it at a full boil, other times we need to turn the burners down real low and let it simmer long and slow to reach perfection.  To be a good cook is to know the ingredients, the heat source and the pot itself, and always try your best to use the right tool for the right job.

I love competition.  Sports are a huge part of my balanced life.  Competition is healthy  for me as long as it facilitates the best in me, not beating you or lessening you, the best in me.  i find competition also creates the building if teams and communities when inspiration is not present.

I think folks who think we or any other species can exist without competition is somewhat naive.  With that said, competition that becomes hurtful or disrespectful is not helpful in any way.  In fact, i use competition as one of my most effective barometers of spiritual growth and development. How does winning and losing effect my sense of self or others,my enjoyment of the activity,  my relationships with them? By observing how i respond in competitive situations, i can gauge where i stand in being the best i can, while supporting others to do the same and not be against anybody or needing to prove anything to anybody but me.

Besides, the real competition is never with anybody else, it is always with myself.

Then one of her friends sat down and joined us.  She is a Russian woman here in the states for the past year.  Soon after, she left and the Russian woman and I started doing breathing, meditation and some hands–on Reiki.  She was able to connect with her Higher Self and able to receive some discernment and awareness on who she is.  Some of the things she was able to clarify was her inner strength and courage, and that she is more willing to help others than herself.

After about 20-30 minutes, we began to have casual conversation about religion, spirituality, discernment and the belly.  OK, maybe not very casual, but more so than Reiki.  She then asked since I have been on the road for several months, “How do you decide or know where or when to go or stay?” 
I shared with her, “Part of it is spiritual discernment, and I enjoy being at universities and beaches too.”

She asked, “What is it about beaches that you like so much?” in her Russian accent.

“Sand, sun, water, salt, volleyball and bikinis” I answered easily.

It was the last word, bikinis that offended her.  Her face became contorted and stressed across her forehead.  She asked me, ”What do you like so much about bikinis?”

I knew I should just shut up, I knew it.  “I like the bodies inside the bikinis.”

Her gaze was forceful and direct.  She hesitated to gather herself, then asked in a voice trying hard not to show disapproval, “You mean like the woman inside or just objectifying her body?”

Shut up. Say nothing! “Both, sometime it is the woman inside, sometimes just the body that the bikini displays and sometimes a combination of both.” 

This is a great example of the challenges of self-awareness and honesty while possessing superficial and divisive feelings that others take as personal attacks and/or disrespect.  I knew that sharing that I appreciate the woman in the body and just the body regardless of the woman inside would produce negative responses from her.  She looked annoyed and irritated and eventually stated being so. 

The thing is that I am aware that this is an aspect of me I am working on but still have miles to go before reaching a place of more balance. I feel sad when I acknowledge that I am doing this and how it is hurtful to women.  I usually shrink in these kinds of conversations and this one was no exception.  The trust and connection we had is now broken.  Two days later, the trust and connection are even less than while right in the middle of it.

How to go from Reiki to offensive in less than ten days, or one hour.
Offense #1.

Knowledge comes form learning through other's experience or knowledge.  Wisdom comes fm experience.

Twice in the last twenty-for hours I have offended a young woman.  They are friends with each other and both situations were completely independent of each other.

My experiences with both of them and their respective circumstances are quire different.  The first was a matter of honest self-disclosure that the girl felt disrespected by my words, the second was humor they crossed her personal boundaries.

It was near midnight on my birthday, May 22.  Some of us were sitting, others standing around the campfire.  There was ten of us, me being the only one NOT in their early twenties.  It was a night full of connection, communication and ceremony.  One of the ceremonies included two rounds of sweat lodges.  Ten people sitting in a circle inside a structure of branches tied together in the shape of a dome covered with a large blue tarp with a door to enter and exit.  The first round we all agreed that we would exit as a group if anybody needed to leave.  We didn’t need to.  The pile of heated rocks in the center pit with water poured on top produced an incredibly hot space full of fresh steam.  We were seated naked, cross-legged on the ground.  We sat close enough to have knees touching.  On my right was a man whose knees barely made contact with mine.  On my left was a woman who rested her knee on my thigh.  She was the only one I found physically attractive when we first arrived.  I was glad to be so close to her.  An advantage to poor eyesight is that when I take my glasses off, which I did, I don’t see as clearly.  It was beneficial because when we disrobed before entering the sweat lodge, we were all standing around the fire, naked.  I was able to make out male and female, short and tall, thin and stocky but most of the details were not clear to me.  Except that I could tell that nobody in the group colored their hair, colors I can see without my glasses.  It was helpful not to get turned on by the young naked bodies before trying to focus and respect the sweat lodge we were about to participate in together.  I had enough sensory overload as it was with poor vision.

During the first sweat, we shared songs, prayers and chants together.  There was a few times the steam produced erratic breathing for me.  I began to panic, which increased the altered breathing even more.  My back stiffened, hands clinched and I sat firm and erect to support my breathing.  I almost asked if we could exist but wanted to hang in there to support the group and my ego.  When the time was right, we all agreed it was time to exist, crawling out and quickly jumping into the cool brook about fifteen feet away.  The change in temperatures and sensation was stimulating and also felt very cold on my skin with all the pores open and exposed. 

About twenty minutes or so later, while sitting around the fire enjoying the dry warmth, we agreed to do another round of sweats but to make this one “a scorcher”, it was.  Our process this time was that folks could exit individually if the need or chose to do so.  I was the second to leave.  The intensity of the steam, not heat itself, created too much panic in my system.  They all came out together about five minutes later.  For the next couple of hours, we talked and shared together naked by the fire.  Me and the twenty-somethings on my birthday in my birthday suit.

I also had the opportunity to do some Reiki with one man and two of the women throughout the rest of the night.  For me, this was why I was there.  The session with the attractive woman who rested her knee on my thigh during the first sweat was deep, intimate and powerful for both of us.  The energy filled her head first, where she had a headache all day.  It then slowly moved down her neck, to her upper back and the finally to her lower back where my hands were placed for quite a bit of time.  It is fulfilling for me to participate in someone else’s process and feeling the connection with their heart center, belly and physically between us.  She was very open and willing to allow the process to do whatever was needed. Although I just met her, the trust, respect and honor was at such a high level which was even more impressive based on the fact that we were both naked in front of a group of other folks.  Reiki tends to forge these kinds of bonds in spite of those involved and their resistance.  The woman herself was shy, introverted, kind and either naive or innocent or some combination of the two.  She had not experienced Reiki or anything like it previously, she was fairly new to this kind if stuff.

When two people that don’t know each other connect, and bond so naturally in cases when they are both shy or cautious, it strengthens my faith and inspires me to keep on keeping on.  It is a form of evidence that penetrates beyond fear, reason, and intellect.  It is how I know this stuff is real and effective. I do not know how folks who do not have similar experiences survive and stay afloat.

Reiki is not typically experienced with folks naked, this changed my mindset on physical touch with her, especially due to her age, and forced me to create more fluid boundaries.  It seemed to work effectively and she received the session very well.  When we were done, there was no more headache, her face was clear and colorful, clear sparkling eyes, strong erect posture and her energy was soft, warm.  She appeared very comfortable in her skin, body and mind.  This is typically the highlight of the session for me personally, to witness the shared gift.  I get all tingly inside and feel my smile big and bright.

May 25, 2008 Charlottesville, VA (close by at least)

To

remind

us 

who

we 

are,

who 

we

were

and

who

we

can 

be.

A fairy tale.

I live in the 80 percent between happiness and sadness, meaning life with real emotions and real thoughts.

I do not believe the glass is half empty or half full.

It is a glass with some water and some air.  I am thirsty and i will drink the water in it.  It is then not empty either, air will replace the water.

Like the glass of water and air, energy and emotions replace one another and continue to change and balance.

I have no desire to be happy.  To me that would mean i would cease to have all the emotions that contrast happiness and then it would not be happiness anymore, just another day.  How would we grow and develop without fear, pain and suffering?

Besides, what would i write about then?

Perfect hair
Perfect clothes
Perfect nails
Perfect make-up

Talk perfect
Walk perfect
Write perfect
Sit perfect

Perfect, Prefect, Perfect, Perfect

Is it hard to act so perfect?
Does it get tired?
What if your shirt was wrinkled?
Is that your real hair color?

I heard there is a new diet,
Are you going to go try it?
What a pretty smile,
Are those sunglasses the new style?

Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty
Nice, nice , nice , nice
Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty
Nice, nice , nice, nice

OMG! Are those shoes really on sale?
I have to text….

Adolescence.  

We are passionate, frustrated, forceful, needy, creative, confused. egocentric, ruled by our bodily and hormonal needs/desires, multi-personalitied ( is that a word?) and very willing to give and share with others.  

We seem big on self-punishment too.  Meaning like adolescents, we eat, drink and abuse our bodies with the arrogance and ignorance of the consequences of our choices on self and others.

Right where we are supposed to be!