Monday, November 8, 2010


It's been a while.

Things in my Brown Shopping Bag:

-A note pad (blank)
-Miniature laptop
-Worn notebook full of passionate, childish judgments and demands
-Skull/forest spirit mask made of paper, twigs and leaves
-Herbal pills for acid reflux (not mine)
-Organic vanilla extract (all mine)
-A condolence card about my friends death, with words cut and crossed out
-The miniature laptop's power cable
-A bottle of cloves
-A small piece of paper with notes about how my desire's are like Dumbo.
-Black hair clip
-Electric toothbrush charger.
-Smooth rounded, slightly pitted stone, still sticky from sea salt, which fits perfectly in my palm
-Dandelion root tea
-A single black wool sock
-Pepper and salt grinders
-Half broken mettle button for one of my pant's flys
-Almost empty bottle of conditioner
-Bread baking pan
-Heavy duty electric beard and hair trimmer
-Small plastic container, open and empty


  1. "-A small piece of paper with notes about how my desire's are like Dumbo."

    elaboration? (because your analogies are always enjoyable)

  2. This wasn't an analogy but a piece of intuitive insight received about a question asked. Sometimes, often, intuition talks in the language of symbol and visual metaphor, along with feelings, dreams, and emotion.

    As far as I can decipher, the idea was that my relationship to my desires is like dumbo's relationship to his big ears. That is, he is ashamed of them, he thinks they are the worst part of him, wishes they were gone, is embarrassed at how the world thinks of them on him.

    But, ultimately, they are his greatest gift, the key to his freedom and what makes him special.

    The eastern philosophy I've been raised in likes to demonize desires, saying people should be desire-less. I've observed first hand the kind of effect such teaching has on people: it makes them bloodless, passionless, drains the juice out of there life and the energy out of their step. The power of desire is the power of life itself, moving all of creation forward. It must be respected and honored. It trips us up only so long as we don't find the gift in it, but are ashamed, tripping over it in our attempt to crawl away. What is needed is to use the wings of desire, to fly.