Love and Hate: The Good the Bad and the Ugly and the Beautiful.

Love is so hard.  It is hard to stay soft.

Hate is so easy.  It is the easiest thing to close off and shut down.

I have been hateful.  It was easy.  Fun.  Exciting and momentarily satisfying.

Love is hard work.  It is dragging a drudge along the bottom of the river

looking to see if what you really want can be brought up through to the surface.

Found again.  The precious.  From the dark no less.  The depths.  The unknowns as people fearfully see them.  Though they feel as familiar once you are there as I imagine the womb still feels.  Or death in a certain aspect.  Familiar.

Hate seems like it cuts you free from the pain of relationships in particular.  Free from the pain of Love.  Hate feels for a while like it sets one to running fast and free and to anywhere or anything.  Hate feels like one has been released.

It feels like hate releases you from feeling and caring and other people and your own selves that you would rather ditch.  It feels like hate sets you free and running fast.

Un-conflicted.

But hate ultimately conflicts everything worse.  Love is complicated but it heals.  It fuses and joins.

But choosing love more than hate is no easy matter.  Choosing love means what to me?

To me choosing love means accepting how things are and not letting fear make my decisions for me.  I don’t want to only see what fear tells me to see.  I want to dare loving myself as is good and bad and ugly and beautiful and letting my hearts passion inform me and my instincts and gut inform me the most as well.

Choosing love also means what to me?

Choosing love means trying to harness the energy of compassion in my dealings with myself and others.

Right now for example I could harness the power of compassion for myself by remembering some of the very real things that have hurt me in my life and made me feel set back.   I can reflect in how I feel these things have affected my personality and my ability to deal with different life aspects.  When I then look at my current life situation I feel more relaxed about where I am.  More accepting of where I am and able to see that I, actually doing quite well in many different ways.

It is hard to do that though!  It is easier and more fun for me to bitterly reflect on someone else and how they’re assholes and I am right.  To stay soft and let in some of the things people have said to me is painful and I wonder if some of them might be true.  And then I have to follow the rational to see if it is true and that is hard work and painful too!  Love is hard and endless and consistent.  Hate is easy and energizing and fun.

Love can lift the house out of the stuck-mud with its consistent intent and its durable sustainability.   The mud trying to suck with brute force back down into the immovable. A practice of love as an organized, ever-changing energy could reverse harm.

Love forever soils a life with the experience of the earthly human body and all its horrible pain and rolling pig pleasure.

If I could discipline my own self to have this Love for my own self I would be free and joyous.  Happy.  If I could find in such a system of love with other people I would be the happiest of all.  And I am afraid because I don’t know if I can go for it.  I don’t know if I can choose love and choose to be so open hearted and in awe and hurting and wanting and needing and not getting and then getting and not knowing how to handle and being dependent on other humans for my human needs as all each and every human is and always has been and always will be.

I can be able to do it if I am able to cry.  As long as I can cry I can love and be loved.  If I cant cry…things tend to dry up.

Hate can burn the house to the ground.  With hate the flames are a source of pride in being detached. An honor killing of the feelings.  Cleansed.  Hate is what can’t stand Love with all its messy contradictions.

I can be something of the zealot at times.  I can find myself in manias.  And that fascism starts ruining my friendships almost immediately.

Love takes fascism and wraps him up in her arms and gets flour all over him and smells like spices and sex and fascism hates love because he loves her so much and there isn’t a thing he can do to stop that human flow of feelings upon which he is merely a bobbing sailboat; needy, dependent and powerless.

And now Love and Fascism are dancing together.  Slow dancing.  Slow.  And fascism is sunk into her.And it feels so good.  The lights are a soft golden glow in the background and big green trees whisper in the black shadows surrounding the wooden dance floor. And fascism can never believe he could belong with her.  He can’t stand the bigness of his feelings and his feeling ‘not-able’.  Fascism then cuts off his feelings.   Then we have fascism.  And it’s not fun.  Fun for fascists is having power over other people.  Its sick.  Its what our parents had over us.  Love and Hate definitely have to do with our parents.   And child rearing methods that are child abuse hidden in plain sight.

 

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Hello Hello

Growth.

I can never see my own until it is already fully in play.  Affecting.

Growth is never what I think it is or will be.

Growth is almost always surprising.  Even when one has been working for it, it is still a surprise when it shows up.  Part of that being the unexpected ways that growth makes its presence known.  Impossible things suddenly doable though difficult and harrowing.

Growth.  Hello hello growth.  You really scare me.  And Im so glad you’re here.

Leveling

First one area

and then another.

 

Over time

re-leveling will probably need to be done

as the ground changes.

Shifts.

New tools will be thought up

and felt through to be helpful.

People will comment

and ultimately

it is up to life and me

how the ground surrounding me

is leveled.

 

Shame in the form of secrets. Lies in the form of secrets. Secrets in the form of secrets.

When a secret protects abuse and neglect, it is a lie.

When a secret is a bond that creates a sense of safety,  it is a secret.

When a bad behavior is packaged into a secret, then shame has take the form of a secret.  To carry this sort of shame untold, a lie, is to carry shame for another person.  Like a mule.

The unburdening of this shame-lie by telling it first feels like sinking into a quicksand of your own personal hell.

Then the buoyancy back up.

Oh.

It is heaven.

Inner-World is a Best Friend

Imagine.

The entire diamond trade

is powered by the sentiments

feelings

around

life’s

‘big moments’.

Is everything I chase

a feeling inside

that I

imagine

is outside of myself

in that

or that

or that?

Almost this?  But never quite?

Diamonds sparkle like longing satisfied.

Chasing feelings in the outside when they should be explored on the inside

looks to create a lot of damage.  Think of the hurt and the pain of the diamond trade.  All so someone else can try to capture the feelings of a moment on a finger.

Try to capture feelings?  Like caging animals?  Feelings come and go.  They can be felt and released or denied and stuck.  But they cannot be captured.  Only colonist-types would think that way.

All the sparkle and beauty of the outside surely must equal the sparkle and beauty of the inside world.  It seems to be a big ignorance to confuse the two worlds and seek to do anything as a means for obtaining ones permanence while the other goes exploited or at best ignored.

 

OverBoard

Brett Kavanaugh went overboard.

A woman can’t even approach overboard without everyone in the room freaking the whole fuck out.

A black woman would not have been able to go overboard in Brett Kavanuahg’s position without immediately and absolutely being  irrationally feared and made bad in some fashion or another.

.  Neither Native American women nor white women nor mexican women. LGBTQ members not would have gone overboard and been let off the hook as still good.

Can’t even approach overboard. Can’t even approach seeming upset without upsetting some balance, some social dynamic or code that says what exactly?

A for those men, it is a matter of such ease and comfort for their type now that they make gross, cruel jokes publicly they are so used to getting away with it.

 

Why is it so intolerable for some types of people to become upset but completely excused when other types of people become upset?

Do we have a people seeing problem?  A people hearing problem?  A people feeling problem?

Softer Places

It’s time for America to admit it has a secret crush on fascism.  Every time there is social and political upheavals it comes down to the fascists fighting to protect the status quo that is unfair and harmful fighting with everybody else  who is hurt by that status quo.  Down through the American ages from the crown royalists to the women’s suffrage movement to what we as a people undoubtably were to the native people of the continent, to the civil rights movement, this has been the dynamic.  So we keep the fascists around in our culture.  Everywhere.  In every level of money and education.  Are we then, as…what, pacifists?  Feminists?  Liberals?  Equal Rights?  Fascism against what?  Progressivism?  Whoa…sorry.  Lost track…Seems like it is people who feel the effects pitted against fascist in every upheaval of American history.

Why does it always come down to the fascists and all the people who have their feelings?  What is it about the fascist bad boy are we so secretly smitten with?  Why the sociopath?  It is Dr. Melphy going for Tony Soprano all over again.

What is it about a rigid, feeling-less bully that we find so admirable?  For we do, as Americans, admire the bully.

Who is this Mr. (Or Mrs. Or Miss or Ms. of just free women who are consumed by rage and un-grieved despair just like their male counterparts and aren’t being focused on as much because common legend in our land is with the male takeover and a rapey romance springing up around it) Fascist?  This tall dark and handsome stranger we all yearn for in this secret, steamy, desperate way?  This Mr.Grey?  What is it that keeps fascism alive in a culture trying to make a multiracial union?  Why do we, as a nation, find this bad boy, rapey type so irresistible? We know him…but we don’t.  We want him.

What does it mean to be silent and decisive all the time?  Is that isolating? Cruel to ask of someone? Who is asking that of which men and why?  Change comes easier from softer quarters.  Where it can.

Change comes easiest from the softer corners.  Those who can make moves more flexibly to change dynamics in everyday kitchen situations every night on the sofa together situations in the bedroom together at work whenever with your mother and brother your sister your father with the kids too.  The more humble positions are less monitored.  Changes come from the softer places.  The salons the barber shops the gossips the juicy gossip dripping from lip to ear to lip flipping around landing unpredictably usually uncomfortably and hopefully pleasurably!    From you to me.  From me to you too.  With me.  With you.

If I may come out and say this has been a man-type that I am overly familiar with because of the years of my life.  Of course no one is without their own natural charms, but to be revered is weird.  And these man-types are revered for having the I-take-what-I-want attitude.  The human consequences don’t matter.

These man-types had to have experienced isolation as babies.  Such coldness!  To think that others are only their for the pleasure of one.

Well, the warmth.  It is there too.  Grandmaw.

L I F E

Life is so hard.

I say this not to complain.  For I am a hard worker.

Only to observe how incredible it is

that life is so hard

no matter what.

Life is incredibly difficult.  And unsatisfying.

I say this not to say I hate life.  Although it is true that I do.

Only to recognize the difficulties that come with being born

no matter what.

Life is amazing.  Life is incredible.

I write this because it is so and I love life so.  Even against my wishes

no matter what.

Also because life amazes bigger and bigger endlessly like a ripple in water.

Into the smallest and smallest too.  Infinitesimally.

Forever either way.

All ways.

Within and throughout directions human beings can’t even perceive yet.

Sigh.

I must find a way to feel comforted in all of this.