thick description

"in anthropology now, the term "thick description" refers to a dense accumulation of ordinary information about a culture, as opposed to abstract or theoretical analysis. It means observing the details of life until they begin to coagulate or cohere into an interpretation...I'd like to see thick description make a comeback. Apart from sheer sensuous pleasure, it gives you the comforting feeling that you're not altogether adrift, that at least you have an actual context to enter into and real things to grapple with."

-Anatole Broyard

I think that might be a good idea, for the anthropology of my life.

The red huckleberries that I'm visiting once a week are now starting to bear there gorgeous edible red berries (I do so love shiny red berries that are edible). I left for two weeks and everything has already happened. I missed the budding, flowering process. sad. Things change so quickly, when it's finally time for change. If you're distracted for a moment, you'll miss it's beautiful birth.

I want to dance.

Not my personal, therapeutic dance where I get deeply in touch with how I am feeling and process through it while making deranged faces, sounds, and movements.

My silly, spastic, sexy (usually in turns, not all at once) dancing to semi-bad pop music. Which is therapeutic in it's own way. I like the body. I can, at any time, sink into utter amazement at the very fact that I can move at all, that somehow magically I have control over this flesh puppet referred to as Isaac's Body. And that it can feel so wonderful, to move it to a beat and melody. And that it can be so entertaining, even for me, doing it. I doubt I will ever loose this wonder, or joy, though sometimes I go months or even years, without partaking in it.

Dance is like song: something primal, something with us as long as we had music, something directly linked to heart, to emotions, to the earthen body we live in. Something that lets us express, finally, what we are feeling inside. I should maybe sing more, sing something like how I dance, without words, without premeditation, all heart and now, no lies. it's much more difficult to find a place to sing like that though. With dancing, I just have to make sure nobody can see me. With song, it's hearing, and curtains and walls won't stop the volume of singing I sometimes do. Just as I've never danced the dance of myself in front of anyone else, I've never sung the song of my heart to anyone. When I wanted to sing, i would walk to the park late at night, listen for any sounds, slip deep into a shadowy path, and only then sing, cloaked in the anonymity of the night. Perhaps I'll try that again some time. but for now, dancing is good enough.

It's late, my sickness is in that almost gone but dragging out for a while stage, and my back is sore. Maybe some asanas in the morning. (pet peeve: people calling asanas "Yoga" be precise here people. Its like calling a friend, "mammal" rather than by their first name.

I signed up for a free online dating site called "plenty of fish" several months ago, then ignored it for a while. Now I'm back. It's really fucking weird. You have to wonder, what kind of people use an online dating website? is that really a useful way to meet people? I also have to ask myself, do I really want a girlfriend, out here? There is something in me that really doesn't want to get emotionally involved with someone if I know it's not going to be long-term and we're going to have to break up, because that sounds cruel. Then again, maybe I should give it a try before making my judgements. Which is why I'm pursuing it in the first place. I kind of feel like I should at least try dating someone, try to make that kind of relationship work, so I can at least become aware of what I need to work on, and what skills I have are good enough. And so I can know if I want that kind of relationship.

I know I want a deep romantic relationship already, but I don't know about the more casual side of it, and I wonder sometimes if I need to learn that as a pass-through stage. I suppose it's always possible I'll just meet some hot girl who I really click with and she automatically likes me too, but I think, if it's important to me, I should do what I can to stack the odds in my favor.

I'm out of toothpaste and am now using stand-ins, like mouthwash and baking soda.

I've been reminded that we use soft addictions, (like Internet, movies, cheap romance novels, cheap romances, etc etc.) to keep from feeling our feelings. And since feeling my feelings is exactly what i want to do, the easiest way there is to simply stop my soft addictions and let what I'm searching for (my feelings) come to me. For as long as I can stand it. And when I want it to stop, I can always go back to emails and erotic harry potter fan fiction.

today

today it finally hit me somewhat, what has happened. I was thinking about the fun vacation me and my friend had, out in North Carolina. And that led me to reminisce about all the fun times we'd had together. the though, "I love having adventures with you." came to mind.

I was true: life was just way more fun, living it with my friend. I was more playful, I did thing I wouldn't otherwise do, I was somehow egged on to be more me. And the adventures we had together, be it walking in the park or driving back from the airport, were just... really fun.

And finally I began to understand, what a great deal has been lost from my life. Like you wake up to find half your cloths gone and your nice car replaced with a 200$ junker, and your house replaced with a tent and some dirty blankets. My life has just lost an aspect of it that added an incredible amount of richness. That relationship, those fun times, that could have gone on till we were old men--

gone.

I am very sad.

but I am glad I am beginning to do what I set out to do:

when this happened, one of the first things I realized what this was to big for me to wrap my mind around, and so I had to somehow find a way, over time, to do that. And that is what's happening.

It is hard, I'm having trouble finding motivation to do much of anything, at the moment. But it is moving, slowly.

Did I mention I got sick? It seems like a quick thing, thankfully, probably a result of the depressed immune system caused by grief along with traveling by airplane, which always messes with me.

I'm not sure if my writing is conveying this sense, so I will just say it: I am not worried, about if I will get through this. Though I am weak and sad and tired, there is a deep determination and confidence in me: I will be ok. It will all be ok. I've had this for several years, and nothing has been able to shake it, and it has in fact grown ever stronger. It's not at all intellectual. It's just a mad certainty in my bones and in my heart. It's only grown stronger since my friend died, since, for some reason, that experience got rid of my fear of death being an end. And if it's not an end, then we will all, eventually, get where we are going.

I -- Love -- You

One Zero Zero Point Zero Zero Zero

this is my hundredth post.

to celebrate, I give you a group of friends and me wearing pointy party hats and blowing those unrolling party noise makers/proboscises while confetti drops down on a bright summer day of cloudless azure sky and bright beech tree leaves, around a glass table on a red brick patio by my grandfathers swimming pool.

I just walked by a magic 8 ball, on my way to the bathroom of the coffee shop I'm currently using the wireless Internet of. I'd never seen it there before. On impulse I picked it up and tried to think of something to ask it. The first thing that came to mind was "what's dan doing now?" curious about my friends adventures in the afterlife.

8-Ball's response: "better not tell you now"

Some people think I'm wickedly funny, but perhaps the credit should go to the universe, for having the good sense of humor, and me just for noticing it.

Strange things:

-how little time I spend outside, despite how much I like being outside.

Something to ponder:

It's interesting to have an insiders perspective on someone like Dan, who some people really looked up to, because of his spiritual clarity and evolution. More precisely, it's interesting to see the whole canonization process happening, among some. I get an extremely rare backstage seat to how people take other people and elevate them to something above human. The more powerful the personality, the more people do this, it seems. But even just a few, it's clear to me the dynamics of hero worship.

It's fundamentally the same dysfunction that ruins the churches morals: the idea that a person can be elevated above doing wrong, or feeling pain.

it's such a tempting trap, to give someone else absolute authority, the inability to be wrong. and look what happens when you do that: the inquisition, the crusades, child molestation, witch burning, and many many more. These individuals are deeply fucked up, though not necessarily that outside the norm: just with more power than they should have.

The same applies to spiritual teachers. Most of them, (perhaps all, but that's not something I can know) have some genuine spiritual evolution, and still have plenty of issues, attachments, egoic shit, etc. And there are always people, sometimes lots of people, who are super willing to make any kind of excuse for them and there behavior.

Guru X gets angry and disciple A. Disciple B says, "oh, that wasn't real anger, he was just teaching you a lesson. Guru X is beyond anger."

NO HE'S FRIKKING NOT.

grow up people. stop giving away your personal power to other human beings. Stop making excuses for them. some people have wisdom and the genuine ability to help others on their journey. You do them a disservice when you trust them implicitly, sacrificing your own reason into blind faith.

Listen to what the wise men say, by all means. It has served me well, to do so. But don't take what they say on faith. Test it out for yourself, find what works for you and what doesn't. Your faith then comes from experience, and is not blind, but in unison with your reason. I wouldn't suggest the Indian idea of giving up yourself to a guru, but if you feel like you have to, at least have a serious waiting period, where you are totally sceptical, and very carefully and critically examining the "guru's" teachings and actions, and see if they are in agreement. And most of all, look at his long-time disciples, and see if what happens to them is what you want to happen to you.

As I said though, i think that's a pretty crappy way of doing things, if you have a choice. Your guru is within you, ultimately, and always. Cultivate your connection with the wisdom of the universe, through your heart, and don't disregard the power of your intellect, to discern right from wrong. You're not going to get enlightened by making your intellect lazy through disuse. Truly evolved people are aflame with mental clarity, whatever there IQ may be.

also, I may have mentioned this before, but it bears repeating:

your greatest protection is your dedication to Truth. People who prefer there beliefs to the truth of the situation, will get caught up in the traps along the path, endlessly chasing their tail and not really progressing, because to progress they must let go of there cherished "spiritual" belief so something bigger and more real can take it's place. and they refuse to accept the possibility that their belief might be wrong.

everybody does this, and the problematic beliefs are the ones that are so core to our paradigm that we don't even realize they are beliefs.

I've met so many people, mainly older, who are in all other respects ideal spiritual aspirants: dedicated, pure, well intentioned, eat their greens and meditate twice a day and do yoga and give to the poor. but because they are unwilling to let go of one or more of there cherished beliefs, they've been spinning their wheels for years, and probably will die in the same place they are now, maybe with a bit less stress. It's pretty sad to see.

which is why I write about it for my 100th anniversary post: this is important. this is something that everyone needs to know. i don't care how you realize it or how you eventually unattach, but it is not an optional step on this journey.

don't take my word for it though. go see for yourself. That's what i did.

The blackness of space where someone once was

I'm going to write about grief now, though it is difficult to write, or do anything that expends a large amount of energy.

I'm writing about it now, because I have a crap memory for experiences, so to get the essence of the experience recorded I have to write it close to when it happened. For me, when it's good, I can't remember what it's like to be bad, and vice versa.

And I'm writing it, period, for the same reasons I write most of my posts: I think my experience may be of value to someone.

Grief is what I am going through right now. This is the grieving process. At first, it was a sense of unreality. An inability to understand the reality of the situation. Like I was watching a tv show or something. Oh, my best friend died. I saw that one last week on HBO. Downer. Didn't see that plot twist coming.

Then it was the whirlwind of visiting friends and family. Very hectic, busy. Tiring, but nice, to be with friends. I started searching for answers to the questions of how I was supposed to deal with this.

One of those things they really should teach you in grade school, but never get around to, instead just filling your brain with useless shit like the capitals of each of the states.

I'll tell you what works, once I'm through it, which will probably be in about 50 years. Though I'm going to guess that it's an exponential drop off: after a year, most of the processing will be done, after 5 years, the bouts of sadness and loss will be very rare. That is, as long as I actually let it process.

The main point is the same main point that I have for dealing with all my issues, nowadays:

feel it.

with the additional advice, since this can be such a strong emotional feeling, to not get caught up in particular moments, forgetting that "this too shall pass." The analogy I got from a spiritual mentor/psychologist is that of a stream: some parts of the stream are calm, some are rapids. The stream is your emotions. Let it flow, and don't get your focus stuck on the hard bits.

Sometimes, especially out in beautiful nature, sitting or taking a walk I can relax and feel energized. Often, I feel sad and lonely. And some of the original confusion and disorientation persist.

As soon as I left the protective cocoon of my friends, I felt the loss much more acuitly. There was no more break-neck activity to distract me, and no more friends to give me someone to talk to and be with and laugh with. When a friend called me, who also knew dan, and talked for a while, I felt much better.

I'm in the catch-22 situation of wanting to get lots of rest, because I feel deeply sapped of life energy from the mourning, and at the same time, don't want to face the emptiness of my bed and the darkness and my mind.

A little activity is very good, but I can't do much. I feel like short walks in nature are probably the best thing for me, but once I get home it's hard for me to muster the energy to get up and go outside.

As with all things, it's different than I thought it would be. it's not twenty-four seven sadness, crying. I'm distracted a lot of the time, and the main factor that doesn't go away is the sense of being tired. I'm very tired. more than tired though, like tired in my soul. like it's a challenge to find the motivation to do anything. Thankfully I have a strong purpose, and it still burns within me and pulls me forward. But it's pulling very gently at the moment.

Also, I'm horny. That whole thing, with the Wedding Crasher's movie, about picking up chicks at funerals? I think it may be true. Sex is a way to try and deal with the feelings of loneliness and loss. An attempt to plug a hole that's just opened up in your life.

And that's really what seems to be happening, in the big picture: a part of my life has just been taken out of my life. Like some massive surgery that removes one of my lungs, there is a lot of healing going on, around the wound, and an adjusting to having less. I can't breath as deeply with one lung. I don't have dan to call when I need to talk to someone who gets me really well, to help me process through an issue, who shares my sense of humor, to make me laugh, who understands the incredible beauty of the universe, to be grateful with. Who works like I do, to heal, to serve. I have other friends, a few of which I can do this with, to some extent. But, like only having one lung, it is truly a reduced capacity.

We were that to each other: a booster pack, letting us go further than we could alone.

I imagine it's even more intense for someone who's spouse or similar, dies.

I will never again be as timid around mourners though: I see now, from this side, what it's like, and I don't feel sorry for myself, don't feel like I need baby gloves. Definitely don't need pity.

However, I really do need special consideration. like a post-op, I need lots of rest, good food, and love from friends and family. And frankly, having other people to talk to who can relate to me and what I'm going through, is healing in a way that no one else can be. There is something especially nice about being with other people who were(are) close to dan. We're going through the same process, and it's nice not to have to go it alone. At the same time, it also really is nice, having people support me. people who are not directly connected to dan, and so are not feeling the visceral punch in the gut that his absence produces.

In the same way that being of service to the poor or sick is a really good thing, I understand how being of service to the grieving is in the same category.

It also gives me great respect for the idea of 'Family.'

Family meaning those that you love and are close to, not just blood relations, and probably not all blood relations are included. But it is a really, really good thing to have a strong family. You can't help everyone in the world, but if you've got a strong family, you can look out for each other, and that would be enough, if everyone did that.

Not sure this is coherent. thus goes it.

Never say Goodbye

Dan was my best friend in the whole fucking world.

Dan was closer to me than any other human being or animal or idea or anything I have ever interacted with.

If I was gay, or dan was a woman, I would have married him. A while ago too. As it is, he's a man and gay sex is icky to me, so I'm going to skip that image

Dan and I were different in a lot of ways, but in all the important one's it felt like we were brothers, twins, almost, no, not almost, two half's of one whole.

I think probably less than .00001% of people on earth ever have as intimate a relationship as me and dan had.

We were each others confidants.

I told dan, and dan told me, things that will never be spoken to anyone else.

We were each others guru's.

We moved along at the same pace, bootstrapping each others evolution. The flavors were sometimes different, but it was like woman syncing there periods when they work together for a long time. It always ended up that, as we talked, it turned out we were dealing with the same fundamental issue underlying things. Our views, while divergent enough superficially to give rise to debates, was fundamentally identical. We both grew exponentially faster, having each other there to help us.

Except for the last few months.

We were each others supports. When we couldn't talk to anyone else about something, we could talk to each other. Hell, Dan's girlfriend of several years was jelous of the depth of relationship we had.

It is so exeptionaly rare to find a soul that is so resonent. Both Dan and I knew it. This relationship was not normal, was not something you could expect from life. it was something of extreme value and rarity, and we both had ridiculous gratitude for it, from the very beginning and never abating.

I really hope Dan isn't my soul mate, because he's a guy and he's gone from physical manifestation. But I wouldn't be surprised at all if he was. I could be sad and bitter that I can't give him a hug or have a regular conversation with him any more,... and I guess I am. But frankly, the extreme gratitude for such a rare opportunity, is much stronger. The fact that I had any time with such a relationship is a pure and extreme miracle and blessing.

I love you dan. I love you so much. No one but you, me, God, and the few blessed lovers/brothers who have had such a relationship, will ever know how much.

Today I got all my birthday letters, because I was gone for 9 days, starting on my birthday on my survival trek: the culmination of my 8 month primitive skills apprenticeship program. It was an awakening and reminder that, despite how uncomfortable it can be, being cold, wet, hungry, I love living out in the wilderness, as part of the wilderness enough to justify the unpleasant aspects. Though I also know damn well that survival doesn't have to be a struggle or a pain, but can be pure luxury and joy and adventure. As tom brown says, "if primitive survival is uncomfortable, it just means you skills suck." In any case, I was reminded that, despite being rained on and quite cold and cramped, I'd sleep in a debrie hut any day over a bed inside, or even a sleeping bag. not because I'm trying to be cool or extream or have some idea about living sustainably, but because sleeping in something natural, made of natural materials, in tune with the local enviroment, made by myself, and being woken up by first light to sit outside my little human-nest and worship God as he rises in glory over the unspeaably beautiful landscape, is worth every bit of back strain, sleep deprivation, dirtyness and wetness. And it only gets more comfortable from here, because I am constantly learning and getting better.

Anyways, the point is, for whatever reason, today is an extraordinarily significant day. It is a day of death and rebirth.

One final note on this thing we call "death":

it's a crock of shit.

there is no such thing as death. it's a fairy-tail invented by someone or some people, to scare little children into eating there oatmeal. I've never seen a single death, only transformation. If you believe in an afterlife, then you agree with me.

Except 'afterlife' is a bad word for it, since it's still life.

If you don't belief in an afterlife, then it doesn't really matter anyways. we're all going to die and go out like a candle and we won't be around to think about how terrible it is that we don't exist anymore. The fear is totally irrational and can be dropped without any negative consequences at all: just try and live as good and joyful and satisfying a life as you can. Really, logically, that is the only answer on how to live, eather way. The only difference is that, as seems highly probable, there is is an 'after' life, there's not even any illogical reason to be anxious about leaving the body.

Dan didn't say goodbye. That bugged me. But I understood, soon after, why he didn't leave a note:

we are all eternal.

there are no real goodbye's.

So there's no purpose in saying something like that.

that's why I usually end with something like:

be seeing you.

Until then: I'm gonna miss the hell out of you, dan.

Cosco and the ultimate power of the universe.

The husband of the couple who I'm renting my place from offered to take me for a trip to Cosco. I didn't understand why that would warrent a trip, but I couldn't find a good reason to say no, and I I think he's pretty cool, so I went along.

Turns out Cosco is really a secret Cabal, mainly for old people. I've never seen so many handicapped parking spots in my life. At least thirty or forty.

The shopping carts were twice as big as normal shopping carts, and there were also... what to call them, something you might use to transport large crates of things, or a lot of luggage. You need to present your Cosco membership at the door, where it is carfully checked. Inside is a space to rival Super Walmats. It's a huge, high cealinged warehouse, with tall stacks of giant boxes of kleenex, wide screen tv's, a food section with lots of free samples, and just about everything else. Kind of a Shopping center for giants. You have to use your cosco card to check out, and at the door, a lady looked at our reciptes and counted how many items we had in our cart, to make sure we weren't stealing anything.

I've never seen such high security at a shopping center. I can only guess that old people are an especialy high demographic for shoplifting, because they just don't care/feel they're old enought that they can do what they want/realize they're going to die soon so who cares what other people think of them.

Oh, and they had partial sky-lighting, which made me happy.

Also, the periodicaly move around were items are, in an obvious attempt to mess with the old people and make them think they're getting alzheimers, to try to send them into a buying frenzy.

(reminds me of a comic someone told me of: an old dieing man is lieing in his deathbed, family gathered around him. his last words are, "I wish... I'd bought...more crap...")

In other news: I just got an interesting suggestion, that I function on a shame based (in this definition shame = feeling like I'm bad) system rather than a guilt based (guilt = feeling like my actions are bad) system, because I feel like I am incapable of change, of improvement. I feel like I have no power to change things. So, I do something I feel is crappy, and I don't make amends, rectify my guilt, and so it sticks around and starts being shame.

Malcolm mentioned that the rule of karma means, if you work on something, that action will absolutely have an effect. If you practice a sport, you will get better at it. Cause and effect. It may happen slowly, it may not make you the best in the world at it, but it will definitly have an effect. And in the moment, the current moment, I stand at the head of my previous karma, with the free will choice to create whatever current karma I want. I have to start from where I am, but if I don't make different choices, I won't change.

So now the old program has been brought to light, and a new, more attractive program has been introduced, or activated. Now they have to battle it out. My job is to lean as much as I can into the new program, because that is much closer to how I want to be functioning.

And it starts with this belief that I'm just fundamentally not a good person. And it starts with the realization that I can change my destiny through my current actions.

There are a lot of people in the town of fairfield, and a lot of my close friends, who espouse my original program. They say, "you have no free will, it's all predetermined." And they are good talkers, so they can argue there point very well. I kind of want to scream fuck you at them, but I realize the problem is with me, not them, and speaking harsh words is something I long ago realized has very strong and often immediate negative consequences. It's amazing how much you can wound someone with a mere word.

Really, any viewpoint is just that, a viewpoint. Whether you really think there is free will, or not, what is important is the consequences of your beliefs. Because they create your world. For me, my belief in no free will has the consequence of great suffering and inertia. It leads to me feeling powerless, and thus acting powerless. And the truth is that's bullshit. Man is not powerless, Man is incredibly powerful. We have the ability to shape the world we live in, and we have huge control over our personal reality, via our beliefs. This old belife fails my simple, effective test, and so is up for changing.

That simple test, by the way, is this: does this create more light in my life, or darkness? Said a few more ways: Does it inspire radient feelings or constricted ones? Does it inspire me towards purity, joy, growth, or discourage me and depress me? Is it of the light or darkness; your heart knows this, in it's simplicity. Suffering, ignorance, confusion... or love?

Now comes the longer part, where I have to feel through all of this. Where I have to stand in tearing winds of doubt and fear and old patterns and begin to create something new. Where I take my first, unsteady steps, unsure if I can do it, unsure of what is going to happen, of where I might end up, if I do succeed..

Shitfuck. as the old philosophers and saints-in-training say. Too bad I can't buy determination at Cosco, cus I could sure use a wholesale box of it.

I'm tired

it's been a busy week. lots of adventures. but I'm not going to tell you them now, because I want to sleep 40 minutes ago.

instead I will say what is on my mind:

I'm tired of reading/hearing advice from people who have not lived what they suggest. People like me. it pisses me off. And they even want to make money off of there unproven ideas. It's akin to people who go up to directors and say, "hey I have this great script idea" (why don't you do all the hard work of turning it into a movie and then give me money if it's a success).

This is why I don't give people advice, unless they directly ask me for it. This is why this blog is not an advice column. It is a diary, a journal, of my attempts to live well. it is a relatively spotty, incomplete journal. perhaps I'll do something about that. frankly, I'm busy learning and living now, so that takes precedence for me.

I'm in a hurry. I want to get to a place of experience, somewhere that can really be deeply useful to the world. Some way of living that feels worthwhile. Any time I spend "teaching" before I get there is just fearful stalling via public masturbation. Sometimes I have conversations that could look like teaching, but I don't seek them out. It's just someone nature pushed in front of me because I have a bit of experience that would be useful to share with them. And I'm grateful for an opportunity to give, and to learn myself, because if I fail to learn at least as much as the person I'm helping, then I've been an unmindful student. Everyone and everything has things to teach you. And you know they have something to teach you right now when they show up in front of you.

Grandfather says, they best teacher always learns more than the student.

The lesson for today is:

what decides whether you have energy or are tired?