This is pretty awesome.

The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other%u2019s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

Oye. I keep thinking I'm going to have time to write here (or make time, but it's just not happening). I do want to get back to my writing routine but it might have to wait. I may do a 365 (1 post a day for a year) starting January 1, once our photo project is over. We'll see.

Gratitude list

• J walked in tonight and told me how grateful he is for me being in his life. Aw.


• My friend Dawn, who picks me up, takes me for coffee and crepes and is an amazing listener.


• Delivery Indian food, what would I do without you to save us once in a while.


• LL Bean flannel comforter cover and pillow cases, mmmmm.


• I'm still practicing daily MBSR even if sometimes it has to happen right before bed.


• This photo by Matthieu Ricard makes me incredibly happy, I don't know why.
  
• A light load of homework this week, which allows for other things to get done.


• Ordered all my photos for my show and it is coming together. Very excited.


• My facebook, twitter and lj friends who make me feel like I have a community and like it's not just me and J in this large city that we still don't feel we belong to.

Every time I think I'm done with the Polanski thing, I realize I'm not.
Mostly it's because it's not about Polanski...

The following post was inspired by a comment I left on my friend's blog post about losing Paul Auster as an ally when he signed the Polanski petition.When I read her post I realized that I have been feeling the same way about David Lynch. I just didn't take the same pleasure out of watching him announce the weather and the interview project anymore. I'm really sad. In the same way that I was really sad when I found out Bertrand Cantat had killed his girlfriend.

Please read this post first... It's a cold and lonely world out there speaking your truth...

---

Yeah, it's pervasive...( the rape culture I mean... And part of why it's pervasive is because we barely ever say "it happened to me". So we all go on believing that it only happened to us and that we are the only one.
I mean, you know the statistics of rape and you've had your share of girlfriends I'm sure, but how many of them were willing to reveal to you that they were abused or raped? Before I met Angela and the army of angels, my number was 0. I thought I was the only one. And I needed to make sure no one was ever going to know what had happened to me. I buried myself in the shame that wasn't mine.
I'm not blaming myself or the victim here... I understand why we/they don't say or break the silence. I have compassion for that. I'm also grateful to these who do have the courage to interrupted that silence for a minute and say "it happened to me too."
It's hard to do but as long as we're more silent than the abusers, they are the norm and what's to be protected. It takes a hell of a lot of healing to get to the place of being able to say "it happened to me". It's your abuse and your choice to disclose to who you want to, when you want to. For so many of us, it's the only control we have over what happened to us. And that's why I'm training to be a therapist. I want/need more people to heal and find their voice. I'm not saying that I'm going to be one of these therapists who forces people to disclose or tell them what they should do. No... I'm saying that I'll do my absolute best to help women (and men, and abusers too if they have a chance of becoming allies instead of perpetrators...) find themselves and their voice again. Or else this crap will never get better and the culture will keep defending perpetrators and continue to pretend it is a sane thing to do. I was crushed when I heard David Lynch was signing that petition. I love that man's work and I love his dedication to spirit, shadow sides and pointing out the horrible and good sides of humanity. I couldn't believe it. I so couldn't believe it that there is a part of me that still thinks that maybe I 'm missing an important piece in understanding why he signed that freaking petition. I wish the people who signed the petition, had the decency to explain their decision of support to Polanski and their decision to support rape. I wish they would look at their internalization of the rape culture. At how pervasive it is. Some people have said that it's just Hollywood and the culture of Art. It's not just the culture of Art... It's the middle and upper classes that refuse to believe that this shit happens in our midst (Angela said it well in her post last week, it's your neighbor, it's your uncle, it's your lawyer... ) It's so much easier to blame it on the lower class.
There is a lot of talking and accepting what is going on that needs to happen before we can even try to fix these issues and that is one reason why I love PAVE and Angela. Their focus is on breaking the silence, so that the culture can recognize that we are dealing with an epidemic. Every time I say to someone that abuse is an epidemic in our culture they look at me confused and I can see their eyes gloss over. I can see the thoughts in their head going "what are you talking about,lady, you think what happened to you happened to everybody else? " Yes. Why yes I know for a fact that it does. I know for a fact that if I am in a room with 10 other women, at least 4 of them (if not more) have a rape or abuse story in their past. Ask Angela...she'll tell you the same thing. She's talked to thousands and thousands of women.
I don't get mad anymore when people look at me with boggled eyes, when I tell them the news they don't want to know about. I understand that the culture has not yet understood how pervasive rape is, in our culture. I have two choices: 1/ I can shut up and prove them right or 2/ I can keep saying it, regardless of the reaction I'm getting. I can give up being right and looking good for this. But I'm done waiting to have the perfect words or the perfect rhetoric to speak my truth. I'm done supporting this culture of shame and silence. Mr Lynch, I thought you were an ally. You broke my heart. I forgive you for not understanding that you have fallen into collaboration with the rape culture, but I'm not going to forget. I always looked at the scenes in your movies as criticism of the rape culture, but perhaps I was wrong. You have changed the context of your films by signing the petition and that, I will mourn.



PS=I request that you please think about your comments and read them twice before you post them. This is sensitive territory for me. Thank you.

First Person Plural - The Atlantic (November 2008)

Shared via AddThis

To the tears and the shortness of breath,
I say
"Welcome"
To the aching tingly limbs
Disappearing sensations
I say
"Welcome"
To the fear deep inside
sitting at the center of the belly
I say
"Welcome"
To the gong
Always
Startling
At the beginning
and the end
I say
"Welcome".

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This is not that recent but I've fallen in love with it again.


While you were sleeping
Your babies grew,
The stars shined,
And the shadows moved.
Time flew,
The phone rang,
There was a silence
When the kitchen sang.
Songs competed
Like kids for space,
We stared for hours
At our makers' face.
They gave us picks
Said "go mine the sun,
And go gold,
And come back when you're done".

Uh oh
Uh oh

While you were sleeping
You tossed, you turned
You rolled your eyes
As the world burned.
The heavens fell,
The earth quaked.
I thought you must be,
But you weren't awake.
No, you were dreaming
You ignored the sun,
You grew a power garden
For your little ones.
And you found brides for them
On Christmas eve,
They hung young Cain
From the Adam trees,

And danced.
Uh oh

While you were sleeping
I tossed and I turned too,
I closed my eyes,
But the future burned through
The planet turned
A hair gray
As I relived
The day.

While you were sleeping
The money died,
Machines were harmless,
And the earth sighed
The wind.
You swept sound,
And gravity brought
My love around.
The ocean's roe
Sang about decay,
The witches flew
And the mermaids stayed
Full of dreams.
You overslept.
In keeping with the quiet
Through the walls I crept.
I walked on tip-toes,
Sent darkness swirling
Over all the kitchen
In the early morning.

Uh oh
Uh oh

I'll never catch up to you
Who sleep so sound.
My yawns are useless,
My heart beats too loud
To go to sleep,
My mind's too proud
To bow out.

While you were sleeping
The time changed,
All your things
Were re-arranged.
Your vampire mirrors,
Face to face,
They aw forever out in to space
And found you dreaming
In black and white
While it rained in all
The colors of the night.

Uh oh
Uh oh

I watched the TV's memories,
Champion ships
Vanish to sea.
Can it be
My honey between
You and me?

So I waited for
The riddled sky
To be solved again
By the sunrise.
I made a death-
Soup for life,
For my father's
Ill widowed wife.

Did you have that strangest dream
Before you woke?
`Cause in your gown you had
the butterfly stroke.
Did it escape you
Like some half-told joke
When you reached for
Your plume of smoke?

And it'll haunt you
My honey bee,
Anyone who's anyone
Has that same dream.
Were you falling,
Were you flying,
Were you calling out
Or were you dying?

But thank god you're up now,
Let's stay this way,
Else there'll be no mornings
And no more days.
`Cause when we're dreaming
The babies grow,
The stars shine
And the shadows flow.
Time flies,
The phone rings,
There is a silence
When everybody tries to sing.

Uh oh,
Uh oh
Uh oh
Uh oh
Uh oh