Posts Tagged ‘life’

There’s an odd trend going around that, thinking about it now, may just be “the way it’s always been.” Nevertheless, I recently noticed something about all the articles I gulp down on my smartphone every morning. Basically everything I see written along the lines of, “how to deal with/live with/love someone who is X or has Y,” can apply to anyone relating to anybody if you zoom out just a little. And it’s sad, in my opinion, because of how much more naturally we open ourselves to new perspectives and knowledge when we can not only empathize, but sympathize, when we can identify personally with the subjects of our meditations.

There are so many diagnoses and analyses written to help people understand particular types of people, like girlfriends, boyfriends, or those with mood or behavioral disorders, yet few turn the microscope back on themselves and incorporate any useful reflection into their theories. Few acknowledge those same behaviors in themselves and unpack the layered complexity of how different people express lifetimes of knowledge and emotion everyday.

The most common of all these I’ve seen are the articles about learning to understand men or women. Apart from points related to learning real physical anatomy, like what a menstrual cycle entails or how to understand the black hole that opens up in your chest when you get kicked in the nuts, everything I’ve seen about men or women’s behavioral “issues” can apply to people of all types, in general. The difference comes with how we’ve been conditioned based on what basket we’ve been placed in our whole lives.

“Women are emotional.” People are emotional. Any advertiser will tell you we rarely act on logic and couldn’t tell you what our subconscious mind wants even if we really wanted to know ourselves. Men just hide it better because masculinity teaches us to. Better, that is, until it boils up as aggression and violence. We’ve separated ourselves so far from the role of nurturers that we’ve forgotten how to nurture ourselves.

“Men are pigs.” People are pigs. We’ve all hurt and been hurt. Now, that’s not to say most people have it out for you, but most are definitely out for themselves first. It’s only natural. In case of emergency: fasten your own oxygen mask before helping those around you. We’re all one chromosome away from shit-throwing monkeys and two away from the mushrooms in your salad anyway. When asked his thoughts on Western Civilization, Gandhi once said, “sounds like a good idea.” Funny. He also beat his wife at least once according to his autobiography. But there are plenty of dastardly dames out there as well. And whether their barbarism is physical or otherwise, it exists and they exist. So that’s where we’ve got to start.

We definitely need to understand the needs of groups of people unlike ourselves better in order to progress as a species. But even more so, in my opinion, we need to try and better understand our own needs better, and where they inevitably align with the rest of the world’s. After all, as far as the aliens flying over our beautiful planet see it, we’re all part of the same pile of mold.

It’s an old cliché that what you hate in the world is what you hate in yourself, but I see a lot of truth in that. What you focus on and see in the world out there is always tinted by your inner thoughts, so naturally, the irritations that stick out are the ones you were already thinking in terms of, and locked in on.

So understanding how to open your eyes to yourself in the world you see around you is key to learning how to deal, live with, or love anyone at all. Call it selfish to call for sympathy over empathy, but as an old favorite theater ad of mine once said, “even community service is the most selfish thing you can do. Who wouldn’t want to live in a better world?”

So that’s it, really. Next time you read an article on dealing with someone with this brain or that lifestyle, find yourself in each of those points. Look for yourself and have a little dance together. Then go find yourself somewhere out there in the world today. Where was it? Who was it? What did they do? Do that and you’re already making ripples of connection in the pool. You can’t stop from splashing, but you can choose how you hit the water.

So I’m signing up for some “content mills” or websites to connect content and copy writers with small contracts. They’re meat markets that established writers tend to shun, but I’m not very established yet so I say I am here for anyone’s use and abuse at this point. A few dollars help.

Anyway, to sign up for these sites you obviously need a writing sample. They say I retain the rights to the samples I submit so I’ve decided to post them up here too, just for shits and gigs. Let’s call it transparency. So here is the one I just submitted. 150 – 250 words on one of my favorite places. Enjoy.

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Wherever I move, or stay for very long at all frankly, there are a few things I take care of first and right away to get my footing. I always look for a few resources like the closest place to relax outside, the nearest nature trail, convenience store, gas station, liquor store – the basics.
But what is the most important of all?
Why, the most important resource in the animal kingdom is of course none other than the watering hole. In my case, it’s the 4 Corners Pub in the 4 Corners shopping center at the 4 Corners crossroads my and three other neighborhoods cling to for life.
The 4 Corners Pub is a small, American-style pub tucked in between a gas station mostly used by underage kids to buy cigarillos and a seriously underrated Peruvian chicken shop. It has creaky wooden floors, creaky wooden stools, and a creaky wooden bar that comes out into the middle of the room from the left just as you walk in the door. There are a few TVs in the corners playing various games and lotto draws all through the bar and the “family” dining room to the right. There it feels like a nice, simple diner, right out of some midnight crime drama.
The bar has a nice selection and the food isn’t bad, but what I love most about my watering hole is everything else anyway. Just outside DC, it’s simple, classic America meeting new Americans: the frontlines.

Isn’t it weird to agree with something somebody you disagree with said?

I used to work with someone who basically sprinted to my shit list. That’s a story for another day, but in the mix of all the absolute magic that spewed from their face, they spit out one piece of wisdom I can’t actually help but agree with.

Get in where you fit in.

puzzleGet in where you fit in. This, in the context of training me to work with a new team. Yes, unfortunately this person was my superior for a while in a certain light, so I basically had to deal with them effectively and diplomatically a fair amount. I kept asking questions when the rush hit and that answer basically silenced them all. They say even the best map can’t take you over even an inch of land. At some point you’ve just got to take a step where you see one needs taken.

But thankfully, that’s just it. That’s all it takes: one step.

Yes, a broken watch is right twice a day, but a working watch does wonders.

I got another piece of advice I will always carry with me from my Uncle Eddy. He was actually my grandmother’s brother (I think) but really he was just a real cool dude. And a beast. Living in the Adirondack adirondacksmountains of upstate New York, he was a hunter by profession. Though he did keep a woodshed out in front of his tiny house on Big Tupper Lake that he also sold for that extra little trickle of cash we all need.

So one time I was actually graced with the chance to really hang with Uncle Eddy. My cousin and I got the opportunity to go fishing with him and one of his buddies one evening during a family reunion up there. So after the sun went down the four of us took his little fishing boat out on the lake. From there we puttered down this winding river that conveniently met the lake at the creepiest point on the far end of the tall grasses and mossy shorelines… on the other side of the bridge…

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Anyway, my cousin and I kept asking when we would get to drop our lines but he kept catfishrefusing our impatience. We were looking for catfish and he said he knew the perfect spot. It’s got to be a nice, deep, muddy mess underwater, but what does that look like above it? Apparently also the creepiest place ever. After forever he finally let us drop our lines and when he did, it didn’t take 30 seconds for all four of us to catch a catfish as big as my forearm. We filled up our bucket in no time and went back to cook the family dinner.

See, Eddy spent his whole life in those mountains. He built a beautiful hunting cabin on the far side of tsnowy wood.jpghe lake with his own hands. No driveway, just a dock. He once tracked a deer eight miles in heavy snow off of two drops of blood.

If you asked him how he knew where those catfish would be, or how he found that deer, he would say he could see it. To him, it was all about knowing where you were and what you were looking at. Only once you know what you’re actually looking at could you see what was out of place.

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He told me, “Go into the woods. Surround yourself by trees. Stand still and look around. Notice all the trees and the bushes and leaves on the ground and all their tiny differences. Some trees are skinny, some are fat, some have lots of knots, some have lots of branches. Notice all the grooves in the bark, and how the dead leaves on the ground lean against each other. Once you know what’s around you well enough to paint it, take one step. Just one single step. Everything changes. The trees, the leaves, the world is totally different. Once you move at all, you need to paint a completely new picture before you’re aware again of what you’re actually seeing.”

One step at a time.angela_esnouf-one_step_towards_peace

Whether your guy won or didn’t, everyone sees what’s happening in the US. There is some serious … dissatisfaction … being expressed right now, from trolls and unfriending to mass demonstrations and arrests.

So a lot of people out there are asking themselves what to do now. Meetings and town halls are being held and filled up by people seriously afraid and with questions for days. But like I said, the best map can’t take you over an inch of land.

Only you know what to do and where to go from where you stand. But first you need to know where you stand.

Make yourself aware of your own situation, what you’re looking at right now, and study it. Look closely at all the leaves at your own feet. Dive into your own history and the history of the people and the land around you. Where you know the most, you can consistently and effectively do the most. Only once you know what you’re actually seeing can you see where to step, and all that changes when you do. You see an inconsistency in an argument? Pick up that book. You see one way to be more self-sufficient? Watch that YouTube video. Look around and find the need in your own life and grill it. Whatever you uncover will make you more and give you the strength to take your first step.

Then notice how everything changes. You feel something. You meet people. Those you already knew start looking at you funny. You go home and start looking at that funny. So look at it funny. Explore how much has changed with just a single step. There is where youSWNS_ROBIN_HAIR_02 study next, where you watch your next Youtube video or Netflix documentary, where you listen to your next underground musician, where you read your next article or book. This is change, this is growth, and this is scary. But it’s okay. Little by little, step by step, the bird builds its nest.

We can’t do everything at once but that’s no reason not to do anything at all. Empower yourself. Become aware and get in where you fit in. Take a step where you see a step needs taken, no matter what anyone else sees. After all, they may be tracking a different deer.

That’s basically all I’ve got for now.

Onward and upward.

Z

 

P.s. So this guy was silent and didn’t use motorized vehicles for 17 years. And doing that taught him the environment starts with the people around you. His story is an amazing one.

So it’s a few days into the new regime and the weather has only gotten worse. Well, this morning the sun may have come out again, but why dwell on facts? Am I doing this right?

This was inauguration weekend, which is always loud but this year came with all the fervor of a good football game. Things almost got as bad as when college kids celebrate championships! Go Sports!

No but seriously. There was a lot of action this weekend. Upwards of 4 or 5 million people total on EVERY continent (including Antarctica!) marched and demonstrated for various reasons related to Trump’s campaign promises, cabinet picks, sexual preferences… the list really goes on and on here. Or as Aziz Ansari said, it’s only day 1 and Trump’s already got an entire gender demonstrating globally just how unsatisfied he’s left them. Ouchhh #sickburn. The Women’s march on Saturday was the single largest march EVER in American history. Wow. What’s the word I’m looking for? … Tremendous!

I live just outside DC so I went into the city when I could, but sadly I couldn’t spend much time down in the real thick of things. I only ended up downtown for a little over an hour Friday evening, but even that happened to put me at the exact moment and place where “the limo” was set on fire.

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Yup, that one.

Just a single block away was McPherson Square, where a huge family-friendly, non-violent, peaceful protest was taking place. Several groups like Black Lives Matter, anti-war groups, anti-Dakota Access Pipeline land and water protectors from Standing Rock, pro-choice/pro-ACA demonstrators, LGBTQ activists and others all had converged on McPherson Square for a beautiful moment of art, music, and dialogue spanning all their missions and where they all intersected.

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The “Deport Trump” community art wall set up by @dc2standingrock (instagram)

Literally one block down, however, was quite a different story. There, a ring of smoldering trash cans made for an art installation straight out of Silent Hill, while another flaming can lay few meters away going solo. All around it, people took selfies and artistic photos of the street art. Then somebody set a limo on fire. Apparently people were surprised by how easy it was by just mashing a window and throwing a flare in the cabin. At that point the white smoke from the dying trash can fires was devoured by the thick black smoke of the limo… art.

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Once the limo was… dare I say… lit, those selfie sticks went away and people started backing off the street and onto Franklin Square (one block down from McPherson). Well, a lot of people did. A lot got real close to the street again soon after. Trying to figure out how far back was far enough in case that limo exploded, I wondered then, why a crowd started to form again along the street. I could see a few professional-looking cameras scurrying along behind reporters with awkwardly large microphones, along with all the usual cell phones in the sky for a better angle all rushing the street again. I was confused until I heard the concussion grenades felt a bit of that pepper spray sting on my eyes.

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Ah, like Johnny Cash said, that old, familiar sting…

Turns out the “front line” of riot cops had pushed protesters back down the street, from further down the road toward McPherson and the peaceful demonstrations happening on the next block back. Out of nowhere it seemed that block had become the center of the ongoing clash between the riot police line and those refusing to leave the street. From a few yards off the street all you could see was a crowd of people backing up and moving in closer, like the tides, while above the crowd things were being thrown back and forth: concussion grenades, blocks of rock and concrete, sticks, the orange arch of pepper spray, echoing the new president’s majestically wispy hairline…

 

Now, I’m not one to take credit where it isn’t deserved, so at that point I decided to head out. ;D Heh. As I turned away and faced the rest of the crowd, not only did I see reporters (like even that one guy from France24!) but all types of onlookers, from scary-looking guys in black bandanas, to scared-looking families wearing matching red “Make America Great Again” hats, to native elders in full regalia. I even saw that guy with the boot on his head! Vermin Supreme, who has run for president every election for a while, had his boot on his head and a megaphone in his hand and he was repeating health advice, like how you might want to take out your contacts before getting pepper sprayed because that’s never any fun.

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The red hats are coming, the red hats are coming!

Still, the image that sticks with me the clearest is one of a big white man in a nice suit and long blue coat, pulling his small daughter by the hand. Both wearing matching red MAGA hats, they were both on the far end of McPherson, a good distance from the non-family-friendly action happening over by Franklin Square. They were moving with another crowd, the pro-Trump visitors and inauguration attendees who I assume wanted a glimpse of the peaceful community protest space on their way to the metro.

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But just looking at this crowd of singers and artists and demonstrators, this father had this look of such terror on his face, while his daughter was so intrigued by it all. Both red hats sat above jaws that had fallen to the floor. The terror in one’s eyes bouncing of the amazement in the other’s, this one father-daughter duo remains such a clear image in my head. I don’t think they even saw the riot police or the limo on fire. That was, after all, a couple blocks down.

No, I think they came for a day of family fun and got slapped with just a little bit of struggle and reality, terrifying the father and mesmerizing the daughter. Why do I get a feeling this is happening all over?

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The next night I helped support some of the people caught up in the pool of 200 the police arrested on Friday. People were corralled for being near the action, but of course those who actually did anything ghosted way before the cops actually got their shit together enough to respond. So unable to charge anyone with specific offenses, everyone was held overnight and released with some b.s. “disturbing the peace” charges and things like that. Quite a few were from out of town and didn’t really have any support networks out here so others helped give them food once they were released, rides from the station, and places to stay for the night. This was all especially helpful since some weren’t released until midnight Saturday. Though everyone’s phones were confiscated “as evidence” leading some people to get arrested by association just for going to pick others up from the police station. And clothes with large amounts of pepper spray on them weren’t given back either.

I dunno. Smelling kinda fishy these days… I sure do hope this weather clears up soon.

Onward and upward.

Z

P.s. The Trump portrait and the first limo pic are not mine. The rest are. Except the words, every one of which I learned from someone else.

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The day the laughter cried

Posted: February 12, 2015 in health, OC, Poetry
Tags: , , ,

The day the laughter cried
12 Feb 2015

We all got up to dance and sing
The day the music died
But not a lone bone fun was found
The day the laughter cried.

We knew the laughter held back tears
A dam; impressive show
But when it stopped the dam walls dropped
And none could stop the flow.

Not one joke made even a poke
Nor riddles rolled off the tongue
For all the clowns turned smiles to frowns
And all the jesters’ heads were hung.

The day the laughter fin’lly cried
The whole world cried as well;
The guiding light that fought the night
So long, to darkness fin’lly fell.

But in the somber silence,
across the world an echo sings.
Laughs still ring on whimpering wind,
In the wake of robin’s wings.