By God’s grace I learned what forgiveness is all about.

When my ex-bestfriend and his wife started coming over to join the church service where I’m also attending I said to myself they are just visiting the church. They will not stick longer because they have already asked the pastor’s release before they left the church some years ago. But when they keep coming back for succeeding Sundays I began to have some doubts.

Some years ago they asked our pastor’s blessing and release to join a church near their house which of course is the very practical thing to do. But after some time, I learned that they have maligned our pastor and our church. Good that some church members had the nerve to ask me if what they heard were true. Since I knew the real story I defended the pastor and the church. But what they did made me so angry that when they visited me again they sense my distance. They made an issue out of that incident too without asking me or themselves why I reacted that way.

Now that I can see them every Sunday I am checking myself if that same anger still present in my heart. I’m a little bit surprise in what I discover: there’s no trace of it left. In fact, I cannot even recall the details of the slander made nor the people who informed me about it. The only thing I recall is that they have done something slanderous that almost divide the church but as for its detail none.

Someone might dare say that I still don’t forgive them. Well I dare say also that I have forgiven them long time ago. It’s not me to dwell on bitterness against someone. You see if I have remained bitter I am giving them power over my life. I would have keep dwelling on what they did even in my idle moments leaving me angrier and bitter while they on the other hand would have enjoyed serenity unmindful of the effects of what they did. In this case who’s on the loosing side? Me, of course. So I have faced my issues, released my forgiveness and made use of my time planning for productivity instead of wallowing in bitterness.

But during those years that we haven’t met each other I was not very sure if I have totally forgiven them. Now I’m pretty sure. Their presence made it very clear. I’m free from their emotional fetters. I’m no longer affected.

The landscape on this trip is not so much the palaces, the temples, the wats or the countryside. Instead, it is an emotional landscape that has taken me on my own journey of reflection, appreciation, sadness, pride and joy. I have come to appreciate how, no matter how bad things can get in one´s life, that as human beings, we are strong. We can survive. And there will be opportunities presented to us that we can grab with both hands and create change in our lives.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I embrace life, and understands that I certainly don´t intend on living an idle life. There is too much to learn. Too much to experience. Life is a whole, it is a privilege and it provides us with a unique opportunity to find purpose.

I certainly haven´t always been like this. Infact, quite the opposite. However, I have travelled through a transition period and feel I am finally coming out the other side. I have been thinking about how I have changed, and I believe it is simply that I have taken responsibility for my life. The biggest opponent I have faced in the past has certainly been myself, but I now feel that I am no longer taking the corner option, but going into the ring with the fists ready to fight and to embrace whatever punches are thrown.

To others, I probably have an irrational level of optimism. I lack ordinary resentments and regrets - they waste too much time. There is no point in thinking that change cannot occur, for even in worst case scenarios - there is hope. Even here, in the depths of no hope, there is potential, there are gloves. I have seen it in the slums, the brothels, the communes.

Take Salin. At 19, she is the head of her family supporting her grandmother and four brothers - 19, 14, 12 and 5. Both of her parents have died with Aids, leaving Salin with the responsibilities of income earner, cook, educator, gardener and head of her family. I first met Salin when visiting Chupvary, a remote village in north-west Cambodia. She has been embraced by the Hope Project and provided with an opportunity to learn sewing skills and be a part of a project providing uniforms to a number of schools in Phnom Penh. After a full day sewing, Salin heads home to prepare the dinner, work in the garden and care for her brothers and grandmother. Prior to being involved with the Hope Project, there was little hope and no opportunity for Salin. But now there are smiles. This is not about pity. This is about positive change and the provision of opportunity.

Salin´s story is not unique. Everyone here has a story - the Khmer Rouge ensured that the majority of families have a legacy of loss and hardship. But as I walk around this new landscape, I can see the gloves coming out. I can see the hard work, the desire to win and the heads held high when the victory is theirs.

For the organisations providing the gloves, their´s is a continual battle to educate, both foreigners and locals, about choices as much as it is about providing opportunity. A mother will earn more sending out her child to beg or sell books to the tourists than if she learned a new skill and sold the end product. Try and convince a mother to send her child to school and learn how to make handbags herself when double can be made with the child on the streets, all night. But what will happen when the child grows up? No more pity from the foreigners. No more income. And the cycle will begin again.

No mum. This trip hasn´t been enjoyable. But it has been a remarkable journey and I can´t wait to hear about the next bout as I experience a night on the streets speaking with the children and hearing about what they want and how we can help, like Salin, in providing them some gloves so that they can go into their future with their own fists, ready to fight.

Travelling alone provides one with plenty of opportunity to reflect on those people who have touched our life. In the past three days I have traversed the Cambodian countryside on buses, motodups, tuk tuks and taxis for a total of 19 hours. This morning, everyone else seems to be nursing their Saturday hangover, so I sit alone enjoying my fruit salad and rice muesli. No one to chat to, but plenty of time for reflection. This journey is a little different from those before - I have a purpose for being here. And although I sit here by myself, I have not come alone, but am sharing this journey with two people who mean so very much to me.

Frank and Mary Peek are my grandparents. I still recall the weekends of my youth spent baking date rolls, choko pies and fresh custard. I´d wander through the pumpkin and passionfruit vines in search of a tasty piece of sugarcane to chew on. Children of the depression, nothing was thrown out at Frank and Mary´s house. Adorning the vj walls of their Queenslander were bird feathers, calendars reflecting a history of coronations, sporting heroes and photographs from 90+ years of life.

Frank and Mary were married for 63 years, and although they could not be together in the final year of their lives, I made sure they were together for eternity, joining in a local tradition of placing their names on a padlock and throwing away the key atop one of China´s holy mountains, Hua Shan.

At the time of writing this, I have tears. Frank and Mary passed away within six months of each other, and I miss them. But above all, I feel a privilege to have them share this journey with me, for without them, this trip and my vision would not be happening.

When people leave our lives, we can always wish we had talked more, shared more, asked more, loved more. I do. But I can also ensure that the memories I have of them stay with me and I never forget what they gave me, nor the value they placed on their family and the little that they had.

When I helped clean up their house, I found a sealed envelope. On the front in my grandmother´s scrawl was written ¨to those left behind¨. I had not been in the country when Mary passed away, and with the deepest sadness did not attend her funeral. I felt that for some reason I was chosen to find the letter, hidden in the dark recesses of a wardrobe for over 20 years.

My hands trembled as I opened the letter. I could imagine Mary sitting at her old manual typewriter, keying in the names of all her children and grandchildren. On the attached page was a short message espousing the love she had for her family and her wish for their happiness.

Frank and Mary - I love you. I am forever grateful for what you gave me. In return, I shall provide an opportunity to individuals, communities and organisations that are giving to others. I hope you are enjoying this journey as much as I am enjoying having you a part of it.

My journey is dedicated to your memory and my vision honours all that you gave me.

I hope for all who read this, that you take some time out to thank those in your life who have provided you with opportunity, knowledge, purpose and pleasure. If you´ve ever been stuck in Cambodia during rainy season, you will know how important a bridge can be. They allow us to move through our lives easily, with support and provide us with the opportunity to go as far as we want to go. Rebuild broken bridges. Strengthen existing ones. And importantly, build new ones.

Thank you Frank and Mary. You have allowed me the opportunity to embrace my passions, but more importantly, to help me find a sense of purpose in my travels and my life.

Frank, you can finally be proud. Mary, you need not worry - I am happy.

xx

Two couples are walking in Central Park at night. One couple believes that walking in the park at night is dangerous. The other couple believes that walking in the park at night is romantic. Suddenly the wind blows, rustling the foliage and sending dry leaves scudding across the sidewalk. One couple experiences fear. The other experiences the beauty of nature. Their beliefs have framed their experiences.

We get our beliefs from our parents, friends, religion, school, and our own experiences. Some beliefs are overt and conscious, such as, " I believe in the equal rights for all men and women.", and others are hidden beliefs for which we may not be fully conscious. Whatever the case, overt or covert, it is important to examine them and decide whether they are aligned with our values and life's purpose. Are they beliefs that once were useful; but no longer serve us?

Yes, we can choose our beliefs.

In my own life, as I look at my purpose and my gifts, I realize that some long held beliefs about myself have been operating under the surface for years, beliefs that have limited my growth.

I love to write. I believe that I have a gift in that domain. Unfortunately, I have had some beliefs about myself that have not been supportive of my writing goals. For instance, I believed that I was not good enough and therefore didn't write anything for years. I believed that I had little to say. It had all been said before and much more effectively than anything I could do. If I wrote what I really thought people would laugh at my earnestness, my spiritual bent, and my shortcomings.

None of these beliefs were supporting my development. Where did they come from? I have stories about that; but does it really matter?

The important thing is that I have surfaced the beliefs that were lodged within me and I have decided to adopt a new set of beliefs that are more supportive of my life's purpose.

I believe that it doesn't matter if there are better writers in the world. When I am called to write, I write.

It doesn't matter if what I write is earnest, spiritual, or reveals my shortcomings.

It is all a reflection of me...

..and I am a reflection of the perfection that dwells within me.

pete

Though my grandfather is the direct grandson of a Spanish priest who was assigned here in Mindanao during the Spanish occupation my grandma is more religiously inclined than him. Grandpa was more spectator than participator. He relinquishes religious participation to my grandma. Yes it was him who fashioned the altar but it was grandma who filled it with collection of big and small statues. Prominent in its centerpiece hangs the huge portrait of the Virgin mary. Underneath the portrait were the numerous statues such that of the Holy Family, Saint Peter, Christ the King, and of the Sto. Niño. With the exemption of the Bible there were also some reading guides that pertains to religious exercise on the altar. Of my grandma's piousness grandpa has no say about it.

I, on the other hand was slowly trained by grandma to do some religious exercises particularly the leading of the 6 o'clock rosary habit. At first this delighted me but later on the responsibility becomes my personal Calvary. But I never dared show boredom infront grandma for fear I might offend her. So I showed fake enthusiasm. I even followed her footsteps by participating in various church activities such as that of the Flores de Mayo (May Flower Festival), the Patron Fiestas, and other religious activities.

This is how I become religiously inclined today albeit in different sphere.

I feel I'm learning more and more about how we humans have conditioned ourselves to be mostly unaware or unconscious about the deepest aspects of ourselves. So unconscious it seems that if or even when we start to awaken to our power within, that realisation alone is not enough to create the life of our dreams. However, it is a good place to start.

It certainly gives us the keys to unlock doors to our dreams but actually taking the path beyond those doors to walk our own path of our dreams is no easy task or even realise the right doors to unlock.

I feel it takes a practice of training ourselves to be more conscious of what and how we are thinking, emoting and feeling to take the steps on our own path to success with our dreams.

Which is why when I was reading a blog asking the question below I felt compelled to do some soul searching of my own and see if there was any unconscious promises to bring to my conscious awareness and re-consider.

“What promise might you have made to yourself that, without you realising it, is in fact keeping your life pretty much the same as it was?”

I have to say after several weeks of probing myself with this question I never actually found a promise I made to myself that might be keeping some area of life the same for me. There are certainly a few areas of my life I feel are pretty much the same as they have been for several years so I was actually expecting I might unravel some dis-empowering promise I made to myself in heightened moments of emotional upset but I never uncovered anything I felt significant for me. Maybe I need to search deeper but for the timing of this months topic it never happened. I do think this might be a case me being someone that makes few promises as I do like to keep my options open.

Nevertheless, I will share recently a relevant circumstance about protective promises which atleast showed me how I could unwittingly make a promise that many not be so helpful to me in long run.

I certainly feel tempted to make promises in moments of upset. I recall not that long ago someone I confided in a few years ago with some personal issues troubling me was more interested in passing on their solution and generic wisdom that I ended up feeling as well meaning as their advice was they never really listened to what I shared with them and gave me direct feedback on what I shared so I still felt like they did not even get what I was going through from my world for the advice to fit my circumstances at the time. Their advice ended up being well meaning but not really what I needed at the time.

This person popped up again recently essentially asking what has been going on in my life and although I like this person I thought to myself I'm not sure how much of what has been going on for me I want to share with them because of my previous experiences of not feeling they were a good listener. I was partially thinking I'll just share the good stuff and skip any source of frustration but I decided to confide the good and not so good. The result of that communication from my view of confiding in them went worse than even the first time so I remember for a little time feeling quite upset with myself for trusting them again and even a bit resentful of them not showing the right care I felt is needed when being trusted with personal issues.

So there was certainly the thoughts running in my own mind of promising to myself to never to trust them again but I know despite now feeling they are not the greatest listener in the world I know this person is a lovely well meaning person and it is just a skill they have not developed well enough yet for me to confide personal challenges with to them. Instead I re-viewed what happened and decided I will just be more discerning with what I confide with them in the future.

I think the trick here is to stay awake in our moments of heightened emotional reactions and when those moments are undesirable ones to not make hasty decisions or promises of the variety “I will never ever.....”

etc. etc.

Be awake and alert to when we are being emotionally triggered and aim to make a fully conscious choice of our own response and any decisions we might think are worthy for us and the circumstances involved.

In finishing on this topic I think the value of self-knowledge via challenging our own perception of reality with profound questions is an inner quest anyone would do well to invest for themselves.

Take care and happy manifesting

Tomorrow commences August 2008. In eight days, I will commence the second part of a personal journey that will take me from the inner, to five countries in south-east Asia. In eight days, the realisation of a dream takes me away from my computer where I have been glued for the past few weeks, and into the future. A future filled with passion, compassion, excitement, the realisation of dreams and self.

On my birthday this year, I gave myself the greatest gift. Registration of an Australian company that is dedicated to unsung visionaries who create change around the globe. Someone once said to me that a mind once stretched by a new idea will never regain its original dimension. Over the past six months, mine has been stretched to new extremes, and I will be forever changed.

Two years ago, I had a dream. I woke up and checked the availability of www.give.com.au. Astounded that it was there, I paid my fee and for two years, have tortured myself as to what I was going to do with it. I have spent a life giving to others, to the point of exhaustion, and yet at this point in time, feel I can conquer anything.

Why? Because there is power in vision. There is power in dreams. And there is power in self. Combine these three, and one can create anything. www.give.com.au will be launched later in the year and is a site dedicated to individuals, communities and organisations around the globe who give opportunity to others.

For me, this new path is one that has been a long time coming. A windy path with lots of detours, mountains and challenges to cross. But one that now fills with me fulfillment and the knowledge that finally, I can be happy.

I am about to embark on an incredible six week journey to Bangladesh, Cambodia, Vietnam, Lao and Thailand. During this time I am meeting with the founders and artisans of 14 organisations that are creating change. It is not just a journey of the world and the people in it. But it is a personal journey filled with all that I am passionate about - people, change, compassion, commitment and life.

Six months ago, I did not want to be here. I was in pain - physically, emotionally and spiritually. But I didn't want to listen to the doctor and dug deep. It truly is incredible what we have inside us that we really don't give ourselves the opportunity to find.

I have spoken with many. I know the power of the secret. Always have. I just didn't know what I wanted. It's never been about ego. Never about money. Nor what others can give me. It's always been about what drives me and makes me feel alive. Finally, I have found it.

I would like to invite you to join me on my journey over the forthcoming weeks as I share with you the experiences I am soon to have, the people I will soon have the privilege to meet, and the satisfaction I will have in following a dream.

I don't want to just share the end result as it's not what it's all about. I want to share the experiences of A to Z. For I believe that unless you stop every now and again and really soak up what is happening and what you are feeling in your life, you are not grabbing each rich opportunity that will only cross your path but once.

So join me on this world journey. I'll be taking you to genocide hospitals, rural villages, fashion boutiques, amputee centres and street children hostels. I'll be interviewing nuns, nobel peace prize nominees and ordinary people who have chosen an extraordinary life of giving and creating change.

I hope that by sharing these stories, it will encourage you to look at yourself and your community, and perhaps do one small thing that puts a smile on another's face. You don't have to see it. But somewhere out there, someone in the world is smiling because you will have made the choice to give. And that face may just be yours.

x

It's uncomfortable. I get impatient and want the feeling to go away. It feels like there is something that needs doing; but I don't have a clue what it is. It's the same feeling I get once in a while when I walk into a room and forget why I'm there. If I try to force myself to remember, it only drives the thing I'm trying to remember farther from my grasp.

In her recent book, "The Second Half of Life", Angeles Arrien explains:

Indigenous people of the American Southwest believe that to cultivate wisdom and character you must develop the capacity to be fluid and flexible like water, warm like fire, and solid like a mountain or you will experience soul loss. Its symptoms can take the form of inertia, apathy, anxiety, emptiness, depression, futility, or numbness. It may also appear as confusion, preoccupation, restlessness, self-doubt, irritation, a tendency to be extremely critical, or a lack of vitality. These states often signal the end of something important, such as a long-term job or relationship, and the recognition that something new and regenerative has yet to emerge.

Arrien goes on to say:

...it is essential...to listen deeply to what we may be longing for and to recognize restlessness and dissipation as a sign of the soul urging us to grow and move toward something new.

The disturbance I feel is the truth of my heart letting me know it's time to enter a new chapter in my spiritual growth. Far from being something negative that I want to be rid of, it is a signal to be on the look out for the path that will lead me to the next gate I will pass through on my journey.

I have to be patient and alert. I must not try to numb myself; but feel the unease fully. I will do my best to turn into this feeling and not away from it.

And always, I must trust that my heart knows what to do.

In fact, the dis-ease I feel is merely my heart reminding me that the journey is long and I must be on my way to a new, unexplored place...

...if I am ever to make it home.

pete

Mă mai întreabă lumea (n-o să zic multă lume) de ce eu n-am boyfriend. Hei, imi apare o grimasă numai când scriu/zic. Imagine that. Nu ştiu nici eu, le spun de fiecare dată că nu-mi place de nimeni; încă - să sperăm că se poate spune "încă". Din câte îmi dau seama, am o mare imagine despre cum ar trebui să arate toată treaba - cum ne cunoaştem, cum e "prima întâlnire", cum e primul futai (da, normal că şi asta). Bine, problema e că foarte (şi accentuez) puţini tipi s-au conformat pe tiparul ăsta.

O să fiu bluntly honest. Dacă stau bine să mă gândesc, I never actually had a real boyfriend. Pe de altă parte nici candidaţi n-au fost. Bine, a fost violonistul ăla de care m-am îndrăgostit când aveam 18 ani, dar el avea 19 şi era la fel de fucked-up ca şi mine.

Din cât îmi dau seama ăsta a fost cam cea mai apropiată experienţă "amoroasă". Când mă gândesc că am "suspinat" aproape doi ani după el îmi vine să-mi dau pumni. Da' în fine... încă de pe atunci era un suspinat pasiv. Un telefon din când în când - "ce mai faci? când mai ieşim la o bere?" - ieşit la o bere de vreo două-trei ori, bineînţeles cu masca de fier pe faţă şi cu nasul în tavan. Bine dracu' că mi-a trecut, şi oricum n-a fost aşa melodramatic. Ştii, nu mai ştiu nimic de el de ani de zile. O mai avea acelaşi număr de telefon? Eu da. O mai fi la fel de frumos. Ha, asta nu. Stai, mi-am adus aminte. L-am revăzut după vreo câţiva ani... cred că eram în anul doi de universitate. Şi, ce coincidenţă, era ziua mea. Fusesm în oraş cu gaşca, şi mă întorceam acasă. Nu-mi vine să cred că mai ţin minte treaba asta. Şi veneam pe jos de la Unirii spre Universitate, şi spre casă. Nu-mi aduc aminte unde ne-am întâlnit, dar a fost o chestie absolut neaşteptată. Îmi aduc aminte însă că avea o oarecum rablă de maşină (nu mai ştiu ce era) - vezi, poţi conta pe mine întotdeauna să observ lucrurile care contează. Anyways, ne-am dus în club. Nah ca să vezi - dintre toate bodegile. Şi colac peste pupăză eu eram elengatisim, în nici un caz de mers în club... Eh, whatever. Din câte îmi aduc aminte mă cam luase un oarecare sentiment "din ăla". În club am cunoscut nişte prieteni de-ai lui... parcă nu mi-a plăcut nici unul. Oricum, nu poţi să socializezi în club - muzica e prea tare; acolo se vorbeşte limbajul trupului (pardon, pulii), şi se ascultă vocea aceleiaşi puli.

Totuşi, am plecat "bine", nu de plictiseală sau draci. Ah, da' nesimţitu' dracu' nici nu m-a dus până acasă. Lăsase bolidul pe la Universitate pe undeva, şi mi-a trântit-o că nu ştie dacă îi ajunge benzina să mai ajungă acasă. P-a mă-tii, oricum în 15 minute sunt în casă, puteai să faci în pula mea un efort. Ah, şi m-a pupat... pe obraz. Nah păi să nu-i zici vreo două? Pe de altă parte, în seara aia nu m-am văzut aşa disponibil. Cred că dacă am fi mers la vreo bodegă n-am fi avut despre ce vorbi. Ce-am mai făcut? Păi ce dracu' să fac... am obţinut tot ce-am vrut până acum, normal... ei nu chiar în cuvintele astea, da' asta e esenţa.

Ştii ce e ciudat? Când ne-am cunoscut am avut un click instant. Cred că încă mai ţin minte perfect seara aia. N-o să-ţi povestesc acum toate detaliile, dar atunci aveam ce vorbi. Ei, probabil că ne-am îndreptat în direcţii diferite, nu?

Am impresia că era vara anului în care mă despărţisem de Valentin - pardon, el se despărţise de mine. E foarte posibil ca atunci să mă fi convertit eu în hardcore bitch. Sau nu, mai degrabă a fost din cauza lui Qu. Din cauza lui Valentin cred că m-am apucat de fumat.

Că tot veni vorba. El a fost cea mai lungă relaţie - poate singura pe care am avut-o. Nu mai ţin minte exact cum ne-am cunoscut... a fost tot ceva de genul internet, tehnologii, bla bla bla. Ştii, dacă stau bine să mă gândesc nici măcar nu era aşa de frumos. Şi totuşi, avea ceva. Draci, acum nu mă întreba de ce mi-o fi plăcut. Poate pentru că nu aveam altceva de făcut.

Ah, şi apropos de asta. L-am revăzut, acum câţiva ani. Totalmente casual. Eram la Unirii cu o prietenă - cu prietena mea cea mai bună. Era p-acolo, în faţa magazinului, probabil aştepta pe cineva. Am făcut lucrul pe care îl blamează toţi prietenii mei. Am trecut pe lângă el fără să-l observ. Nu ştiu dacă el m-a văzut pe mine. Sincer, nici nu cred că m-ar mai recunoaşte. Nu ştiu ce i-aş fi putut spune. De fapt, la o adică nici nu voiam. Fie trecutul trecut. Singurul cu care nu pot să aplic asta e Qu. Aşa că am mers mai departe, şi nu i-am spus Zorei nimic, decât după o vreme - când am amintit aşa în doară "ştii, odată când eram cu tine pe la Unirii l-am văzut pe Valentin".

Lui trebuie însă să-i recunosc un mare merit. Bon, partea a doua că e că el a fost laş, sau nu ştiu - aşa am văzut-o atunci şi aşa mi-a rămas. Nu ştiu, poate am mai povestit despre asta. O să-ţi spun: atunci eram mic şi prost şi naiv, şi nu ştiam cum se procedează. Nu ştiu dacă acum "I know better".

Poate între noi a fost puţin forţat. Am început să ne vedem destul de des destul de repede - "gli incontri divennero asidui e frequenti". Şi îmi aduc aminte cam cum se petreceau întâlnirile noastre - anume, comentam diverse chestii la lumea de pe stradă; majoritatea timpului oricum. Cel puţin după ce ne-am cunoscut. În acelaşi timp, eu Zora şi Ştef ne împrieteneam din ce în ce mai mult. Ele spun că îşi puneau oarecari semne de întrebare.

Asta e prea nostim ca să nu-ţi povestesc. Era clar că se întâmpla ceva. Devenea destul de greu să ascunzi/maschezi bipurile şi mesajele pe care le primeam de mai multe ori pe zi, când eram la şcoală. Clar se întâmpla ceva, şi n-am putut să neg că... în fine, mă văd cu "cineva". Dar încă nu ştiau nimic. Ţin minte că zilele alea Zora nu venise la şcoală, şi nu prea ne văzusem. Într-o seară, mergeam cu Ştef spre casă. Şi evident, cum fac femeile (nu?) a început să mă tragă de limbă. Lucru la care n-am putut rezista foarte mult (iar, puterea lor, nu?). Voia un nume... şi până la urmă i l-am dat. Într-o formă total androgină. Apoi într-o altă zi - ne întâlnisem toţi trei să mergem la examen. Ţin minte şi acum când m-am urcat în troilebuz, şi ele două erau pe scaun, şi Zora îmi arunca o privire. "Adică, ce e asta ce-mi spune Ştef? Hai, varsă tot". În fine, am bălăcit-o şi de data asta, dar nu mai ţin minte ce am spus.

Pe de altă parte, noi doi porumbeii discutam despre problema "coming out". Eu vorbeam într-una despre Zora în sus şi jos, el la fel avea o prietenă bună despre care tot vorbea. Aşa că ne-am decis să "le spunem". Da, în fine, probabil că era beţia iubirii. Dar acum, în lumina înţelepciunii, îţi spun - nu l-am iubit niciodată, a fost altceva. Deja chestia asta era pe creierul meu de ceva vreme... probabil de când începuseră mesajele cu "te iubesc" - adică după vreo câteva săptămâni. Acum dacă mi-ar spune-o cineva, foarte probabil -aş râde în nas.

Nu ştiu de ce, dar eram într-un fel de extaz. Dar nu era iubire; nu avea cum. Ideea e că pur şi simplu simţeam că trebuie să spun cuiva, sau o să explodez. Cred că eram încântat de ideea de a avea "boyfriend"-ul. Am luat-o pe Zora la telefon că trebuie neapărat să ne vedem, că urgent, că trebuie să-i spun ceva. Şi ea a crezut că aveam "girl-trouble". Ha! Ei, şi în fine, ne-am întâlnit, să zicem că eram nervos, dar oricum nu mai aveam cum s-o dau la întors, şi nici nu voiam. Aşa că i-am spus-o. Nu mai dau alte detalii, sunt irelevante. A vrut să-l cunoască, l-a cunoscut, şi cam atât. Problema, dacă putem să-i spunem aşa, e că el nu s-a ţinut de partea lui din înţelegere. Nu mai ştiu ce mi-a spus, dar în fine... ideea e că nu s-a ţinut. Oh well... life went on.

Ştii, poate că în subconştient am luat-o ca pe o trădare. Oricum l-am învinovăţit după ce ne-am despărţit. N-am invocat trădarea ca motiv, ci slăbiciunea. La o adică, el o cunoştea pe "a lui" de când erau copii, eu o cunoşteam pe Zora de câteva luni.

Să nu mă întrebi de ce ne-am despărţit. Nici eu nu ştiu. Bine, acum să zicem că pot să văd motivele pentru care era o idee bună. Atunci nu. Am relativ suferit câteva săptămâni, m-am apucat de fumat oarecum din draci, am ascultat multă muzică de jale, şi eventually I got over it. Evident că mi-a trântit-o şi p-aia cu "hai să rămânem prieteni". Puişor, eu nu pot rămâne prieteni cu cineva care mi-a supt pula (şi cui i-am supt pula). Crede-mă că am încercat de câteva ori să mai ieşim în oraş - n-a mers. Okay, voi recunoaşte că nu-mi trecuse ranchiuna... şi mie nu-mi prea trece niciodată. Într-un final pur şi simplu am pierdut legătura... şi n-am avut o mare tragere de inimă să o reiau. Până să se întâmple asta cred că au mai fost evenimente, dar nu-mi aduc aminte acum.

Acuma, după cum îţi spuneam despre despărţeală, atunci n-am văzut relaţia asta aşa cum era. Şi anume extrem de plictisitoare. Culmea e că eu sunt orice numai plictisitor nu. De asemenea sunt şi genul easy-going - deşi nu dau impresia. Am (sau cel puţin aveam) un nivel destul de mare de toleranţă. Atât timp cât un lucru nu mă deranjează, la modul să-mi displacă profund, n-am nici o problemă să fac lucrul respectiv.

Uite... de ce era plictisitor. Mergeam mereu în aceleaşi locuri. De fapt, cred că erau vreo două locuri. Pe atunci era la modă Cafeneaua Actorilor; cred că de atunci am căpătat o aversiune pentru locul ăla. Al doilea nu mai ştiu care era. Apoi, erau discuţiile. Acum vreau să cred că dacă mi-am pierdut câteva luni din viaţă cu el, conversaţiile aveau şi ceva substanţă. Dar ce-mi aduc aminte erau comentariile non-stop despre cum arată X sau chestii de genul. Acuma, mă ştii, am o mare tentă maliţioasă, aşa că astfel de chestii erau oarecum simpatice. Totuşi, orice exces strică. Şi exces era.

Şi ultima chestie... de asta îmi amintesc cu cel mai mult umor. Mergeam în club în fiecare weekend. Era ca o lege. Dacă nu era sâmbătă, era vineri. Acolo era locul lui preferat de comentat. Bine, să recunoaştem, ca şi în ziua de azi, şi atunci erau diverse de comentat. Şi ţin minte că erau diverse personaje cărora le dădusem porecle. Ei erau acolo în fiecare săptămână, ca şi noi. Stau şi mă gândesc acum, că nu era un comportament foarte matur. Bine, eu aveam 20 de ani sau mai puţin - ce era să ştiu eu? Da' el trebuia să ştie mai bine, în pula mea.

Să-ţi povestesc ce făceam la club? Ne giugiuleam toată noaptea! Ţi-e rău? Bine, eu de fapt voiam să mă zbânţui, să mai fac şi altceva. Dar ţi-ai găsit cu cine. Nu puteam să dansăm, el "nu ştia". Şi crede-mă că n-a ţinut aia cu "te învăţ eu, e uşor, doar mişcă-te". La un moment dat trebuia să mă descurc singur, da' în fine.

În definitiv, mai bine că ne-am despărţit. I know I was better off. Apoi l-am cunoscut pe Qu. Ceea ce s-a mai întâmplat între timp probabil nu are relevanţă. Nu mai ţin minte. Despre Qu deja am vorbit multe, nu? El a fost ăla care m-a ţinut în "agonie şi extaz" pentru prea multă vreme. Şi, în continuare, singurul după care mi-ar putea părea rău.

Între timp am crescut şi eu. Aş zice că m-am maturizat (sau poate nu). Cu siguranţă m-am schimbat, sau m-au schimbat. Au mai fost şi alţii care, să zicem, mi-au marcat existenţa. Şi ei ar merita menţionaţi pe undeva. Dar altă dată.

Parcă toată povestea începuse cu "de ce sunt single?". Ştii, cred că e din cauză că niciodată nu am fost "al cuiva", şi nici nu mă văd genul care ar fi. Să fie din cauza la prea mult "eu" şi mult mai puţin "tu"?

Am răspuns că mi-e pur şi simplu lehamite să merg la date-uri. În ultima vreme ăştia cu care am ieşit se pot considera "norocoşi" că m-au prins cu chef să ies din casă. Să vedem de unde vine lipsa de chef...

Probabil am mai spus-o. În alte vremuri, am avut destule experienţe. Ba chiar, unii au făcut ochii cât cepele când au auzit statistici. Şi nu mă laud cu asta, pentru că la o adică nu mi-a adus mare lucru. Prin experienţe nu vreau să spun neapărat sex, ci doar că am cunoscut tipi. E firesc să ştii mai întâi care e piaţa, nu? Ei, nu, nu mi-am tras-o nici măcar cu jumătate din câţi am cunoscut. Dar în fine. Problema e că foarte puţini mi-au plăcut atât de mult încât să mai încerc a doua oară - şi, ce bine, nici ei n-au încercat. Dacă aşteptaţi să mă strofoc eu (din nou), să mă sugeţi. One time is enough!

În fine, după câteva serii d-astea începi să te întrebi. La ce bun? Oricum e foarte probabil la fel ca oricare altul. So why the fuck? De ce să mă rad când n-am chef, de ce să stau să mă gândesc cu ce mă îmbrac - când pot foarte simplu să-mi iau jeanşii şi un tricou, de ce să stau nu ştiu cât în oglindă aranjându-mi părul, şi toate astea pentru un fiasco, când aş putea foarte bine să nu. A, şi ce e cel mai rău: trebuie să te faci că chiar te interesează despre celălalt. Ori, sincer, mie mi se cam foarte rupe. Şi nu ştiu de ce. Poate din cauză că nimeni nu vrea să spună ceva interesant. Când mă întreabă pe mine, pot să vorbesc despre chestia aia câteva minute; când întreb eu, obţin răspunsuri din una-două propoziţii. Şi cel mai rău mă oftică aia cu "spune-mi despre tine"; okay, recunosc că uneori o mai folosesc şi eu. Dar despre mine... ce să-ţi spun... citeşte în pula mea cartea! Atfel, eu... de unde să încep. No fucking clue.

It's a crazy world out there, monşer. Şi totuşi... cum mă ştii... nu renunţ niciodată. Cum înapoi nu putem să ne ducem, putem merge doar înainte. Cred că în definitiv nu sunt chiar aşa de greu de "abordat"... doar n-o fi ca la loterie - dacă apeşi butonul care trebuie, o să funcţioneze.

Eh... asta chiar a fost lungă. Poate oarecum fără sens? Ce dracu' vrei, e noapte, n-am putut să dorm, citeşte şi tu printre rânduri.

]]> http://touchstones.wordpress.com/?p=109 Sat, 28 Jun 2008 20:39:23 +0000 Pete Reilly http://touchstones.ro.wordpress.com/2008/06/28/from-the-warrior-song-of-king-gezar/ This harsh and splendid land

With snow-covered rock mountains, cold crystal streams,

Deep forests of cypress, juniper, and ash

Is as much my body as what you see before you here.

I cannot be separated form this or from you.

Our many hearts have only a single beat.

pete

 The Egyptians built an enormous labyrinth that Herodotus visited in the fifth century, B.C.  (That's right.  Not B.C.E.)  A quote from Herodotus' Histories:

"It has twelve covered courts - six in a row facing north, six south - the gates of the one range exactly fronting the gates of the other. Inside, the building is of two stories and contains three thousand rooms, of which half are underground, and the other half directly above them. I was taken through the rooms in the upper storey, so what I shall say of them is from my own observation, but the underground ones I can speak of only from report, because the Egyptians in charge refused to let me see them, as they contain the tombs of the kings who built the labyrinth, and also the tombs of the sacred crocodiles. The upper rooms, on the contrary, I did actually see, and it is hard to believe that they are the work of men; the baffling and intricate passages from room to room and from court to court were an endless wonder to me, as we passed from a courtyard into rooms, from rooms into galleries, from galleries into more rooms and thence into yet more courtyards. The roof of every chamber, courtyard, and gallery is, like the walls, of stone. The walls are covered with carved figures, and each court is exquisitely built of white marble and surrounded by a colonnade."

The most famous labyrinth, of course, contained the Minotaur in Crete.  The myth tells us that the king of Athens had to send seven young men and seven young women to the king of Crete every nine years to feed the Minotaur.  One year, his son Theseus volunteered to be among the victims, so he could slay the Minotaur and put an end to the custom.

Ariadne, the daughter of the king of Crete, gave Theseus a ball of red string to unroll and then follow back out of the labyrinth after he slayed the Minotaur. 

As an aside...I googled myself silly looking for an ancient work of art depicting Ariadne and her red thread.  Pretty much all I could find were artifacts dramatizing her abandonment by Theseus and her marriage to Dionysus.  If anyone knows of a vase or mosaic showing Ariadne and her life-saving red thread, let me know.  I'll put it in the post.

Eventually, Christians adopted the labyrinth as a way to go on a pilgrimage when travel to shrines and relics was impractical.

There are hundreds of different labyrinth designs, but they can be broken into three categories:

Spiral..........

Seven-circuit or Cretan..........

and Chartres, or Four-quadrant..........

Labyrinths are archetypes signifying the journey inward.  Why has this symbol appealed to so many cultures?

Some think labyrinths mirror the structure of the human brain, making the labyrinth encoded in our DNA.

Yup, some think that.

It is believed that ancient labyrinths symbolized the womb, and walking the labyrinth could allow you to rebirth.  

To walk a labyrinth is to let go of the ordinary.  Step by step, a walker sheds the things that keep her from connecting with God.  Once in the middle, she is often open to things that are hard to see in every day life.  Then, the walker journeys back to the mundane, bringing the vision with her.    

Or him.

Find a labyrinth near you.

Don't worry.  You can't get lost.

I watched this week as a House Sparrow would feed and dart to a branch where its four chicks sat in line. The sparrow would drop a seed in a noisy mouth and then flit back to the feeder for more. It repeated this routine over and over until they were all fed. When I looked up from my work they were gone.

This week I have seen a pair of Downey Woodpeckers, various Finches, a Cardinal, a pair of Mourning Doves, an Oriole, and a half dozen more of these wonderful creatures. Some are fearless and fly to the feeder without hesitation; but always keeping an eye on me. Others are shy, moving from branch to branch; but unable to work up the courage to expose themselves at the feeder with me in sight.

All these birds live close to the earth. They move from tree to tree, tree to bush, they work the lawn for insects. They have families of chicks, and their nests are everywhere including the eaves of our house. They compete for spots at the feeder. They make beautiful sounds with their voices. They move in groups. They're nervous when in the open.

Somehow they remind me of most of us and how we are in the world.

Yesterday, I looked up... and there, high in the bright June sky, was a red-tailed hawk. It hovered far above these tiny birds and this little feeder. It didn't flap its wings earnestly, it glided effortlessly. It didn't move from branch to branch nervously; but soared from the top of our mountain to the winding river in one long swoop. It covered miles without moving its wings. It was alone, majestic; riding on invisible thermals that helped it rise above the noise of the birds chirping at each other as they competed at the feeder.

I love the chatty birds that congregate at the feeder, and yet I yearn to glide effortlessly, like the hawk, far above the drama of the little ones below.

pete

The Lord Is In Me

The Lord is in me, and the Lord is in you,

As life is hidden in every seed

So rubble your pride, my friend,

And look for Him within you.

When I sit in the heart of His world

A million suns blaze with light,

A burning blue sea spreads across the sky,

Life’s turmoil falls quiet,

All the stains of suffering wash away.

Listen to the unstruck bells and drums!

Love is here; plunge into its rapture!

Rains pour down without water;

Rivers are streams of light.

How could I ever express

How blessed I feel

To revel in such vast ecstasy

In my own body?

This is the music

Of soul and soul meeting,

Of the forgetting of all grief.

This is the music

That transcends all coming and going.

Kabir

pete

international city, Buenos aires

Also I don't have anything nice to say about Buenos Aires in the same way as the New York Times Travel Section or more recently NBC's Today Show which lathers
the place so strongly that you wonder if they're talking about the same city.

However folks interested in Buenos Aires ought to gain some information about
the local customs, people, weather, and economic conditions from reading this blog.

Posted on this page is an example of my sketching ability, which is not great and not terrible, but aiming at cheeky and irreverent like the person I am. (The subject is the artist's conception of Hillary Clinton's speech at the Wellesley College graduation day in 1969, the upskirt version). I play guitar at the amateur level, and oh yes I write a little.

Oh getting here... yes I took the plane out of Miami on the end of January 2008. The price was insanely low. Later I found out that the price of leaving may be impossible to pay, which exactly means what? That is what this blog is about.

I had things too cushy in the United States being poor and working in the film business. Knowing the language and the customs of the greatest country in the world, The United States, wasn't helping me much. I used that language to avoid doing the real stuff: earning a real living would be one direction that could have kept me in the USA.

Film jobs don't pay all that much for most of the workers. Only the top film budgets can afford to pay a decent livable wage, and during strikes there is no wage for most of these people. They joined me earning almost nothing during 2007. Then the other shoe dropped in my set up. My mentor/teacher protector roommate...had enough of my lazy mooching ways and cut me loose to find myself...or not!

With the prospect of being another poor, homeless film worker in the USA, I tried for a more interesting gamble। How about if I learn to take care of myself and completely start over? Working my way out of a bad situation and with a real reason, getting back to the shining city on the hill, ought to get the juices flowing--this was the thinking. So this is a story happening in real time and in a real place. In other words:
I am a Camera
Sorry, I couldn't resist that. Those words open the work of my favorite author Christopher Isherwood, who's material was fashioned into the 1972 movie "Cabaret", a favorite film.

Now the update of that phrase is probably, "I am a Computer, assembling data for later use, search, and archive."

Donations through Paypal are gratefully encouraged and appreciated by the author, contributing greatly to continuing the experience in a foreign country 10,000 miles from home

Paypal access e-mail is billgbg@hotmail.com

The influence of his addiction helped form the foundation of who I am today. As I grew up I developed powerful and useful personality adaptations, all of which helped me survive; all of which had significant downsides to them.

I grew up sensitive and intuitive. I had to be. If dad was in a 'mood' he was to be avoided at all costs because making the wrong move could wake the dragon. The positive side of my sensitivity and intuitiveness has helped me read situations well and make adjustments to other people...but the negative side was that I often avoided confrontations and shut down my own feelings.

I became very reflective and independent, spending a lot of time on my own, and spending as much time as I could out of the house and away from him. I read tons of books, I wrote terrible poetry, I spent huge amounts of time at the basketball courts. When I left home for college, I made my own way and rarely came home.

There was a lot of upside to this. I became a good basketball player and was recruited to play in college. I eventually went on to be an English teacher and in addition to blogging, I have written a novel and am in the midst of a second one.

The downside of this reflective and independent streak was that intimacy was difficult for me. I was afraid to trust my partners in relationships. I needed to be in control, for that seemed to be the safest place to be in a relationship. I wouldn't get hurt if I were in control... at least I thought I wouldn't. No wonder after getting married in my 20's I was divorced within 18 months.

My dad was the 'villain' in my life story and I was the heroic victim. I was mad at him for years...even as I sought his approval. For years I wished that my childhood could have been different, that I would have had a loving and supportive father. That instead of dreading my father coming home after work, that I had a dad that I looked forward to seeing.I went through years where I healed many parts of me that were broken and eventually found myself able to forgive him.

And now, in the last decade, I have learned to open my heart. I have learned to love the person that I am and that has enabled me to love him, unconditionally...without the need for apologies nor the need for me to forgive him. He doesn't need my forgiveness.

Whatever suffering I felt years ago is gone. It no longer defines me. In a strange way it was a gift to me. My spirit and my soul have grown tremendously because of him. I never thought I'd say this; but I wouldn't have changed anything on this journey.

So now I sit on edge of a huge transition. This man, my father...this gigantic figure in my life, may be leaving forever. He is so much a part of me and I am so lucky to have him in my life.

Like so many Irish fathers and sons, including his own father, there were some epic battles fought during our lives. But when I sit with my own son; when on occasion I corner him, give him a hug, and tell him I love him... ( to his consternation, after all he is 16)...I know that the cycle is broken.

I have learned to love...in large part throught the journey that my father and I have taken together.

His spirit will always be with me.

pete

This example is one with which most of us are familiar and it encompasses so much of what Eckhart Tolle has been exploring.

What is, Is. Complaining about it is not helpful nor effective. Our emotions can cloud our judgment.

Accept the situation for what it is, even if we don't like it. "I am stuck in traffic."

We can take steps to extricate ourselves from the situation; but we do it without the emotion of "This shouldn't be happening to me."

In the case of being stuck in traffic, we can deliberately choose to practice being present. It's is a great opportunity to be still.

I find these concrete examples very helpful.

pete

In another part of the conversation, Tolle tells the story of a Zen master watching an archer try to win a contest. Because he wants to win so much he is drained of his power.

This is particularly interesting to me because I have always been driven to succeed. This has entailed a lot of stress and anxiety which I believe has taken away from my performance in the moment.

So one of the key messages from Monday night is that we can create tiny spaces for stillness and presence at work, or wherever we happen to be; and these spaces grow over time.

The other message is to be in the moment. Plan if we have to; but when we begin to execute the plan we must be totally in the present, or as athletes say, "In the Zone". If we are thinking ahead or worrying, it takes away from our performance.

pete

"What you react to in another, you strengthen in yourself."

When I first encountered this way of looking at things, I thought it was silly. If I am upset with you because you aren't reliable, how does that reflect back to me? How can you say that I am unreliable? With the help of stillness, I began to see parts of myself where I sometimes do not follow up, and I am unreliable.

Somehow, the more I sit with this, the more it rings true for me.

So, when I get impatient with people who seem very structured and attached to their views of the world; the suggestion from Tolle is to use this as a mirror to see if this structure and desire for control lives in me. Once again, I see that it does. I've always striven to be in charge and for almost my whole professional life I have been the 'boss'.

What a great tool to use to see ourselves in a new way. Tolle says that the strength of our reaction is an indication of how much the behavior may live in us.

The next time I feel a surge of negative judgment, I will use it to trigger some inward reflection; for I believe it is a mirror of something that is going on...in me.

pete

Throughout the evening Tolle referred back to the same practice over and over. At the end of the 10 seconds look at Oprah's face. She is truly present, as are we, if we participated in the practice.

Later in the program, Tolle offers us another practice:

I have a suspicion that the next 8 classes will keep circling around to the same theme over and over. I don't have a problem with that. It takes practice.

I guess the biggest challenge is maintaining presence in the midst of action and interaction. It's one thing to close your eyes and feel your breath or your hands when you are alone. It's quite another to be interacting with a team of people or to be in the center of a crisis and to be present to your breath, your hands, and your inner aliveness. It's so easy to get carried away in a torrent of thoughts.

Practice presence.

pete