hello, you!

It’s a rainy Sunday night, the first weekend of fall. I’ve been staying at my S.O.’s house for almost a week, so it feels necessary to carve out the ritual of my reflection-space through a virtual medium. Furthermore, it’s time to check in with you.

I am the light of the world.

What would you do if someone close to you uttered these words to you? smack them upside the head? Yeah, me too. But that’s my job today, to say those words, at least silently, to myself. According to the course, these words are the opposite of egotistical, because they’re quite simply, the truth. And equally true of every person that exists.

I’ve been reviewing the first fifty lessons for the past ten days. That’s what you do day fifty to sixty. It’s really too much information. Esp. because I tend to gorge myself on information as it is. For example, I’m now reading FLOW, and it’s blowing my mind. The COURSE in miracles is defiantly outside any other ideology I know about.

I wish I knew what the hell I”m trying to say here tonight. I dont have a single coherent, clear thought to center this rambling around. I’m actually thinking hard about flow right now, and about facing the last week of picture edit on ROMANCE (ugh!), and about the movements of my life going forward. I feel it’s absolutely necessary to, on the one hand, relinquish my false sense of control, and on the other, embrace more authentic power than I’ve ever allowed to move through me. I don’t get to decide what my life is for; I get to decide whether or not to be of use, and to what degree. I want to be of use. Use me, o universe.

Flow is a two way miracle of receiving and sending, and it is beyond mind’s habits. It is a gateway to expanded mind. It’s contact improvisation itself. It’s meditation. It’s knowing the truth of your wholeness.

the message I am getting over and over from the COURSE is that I am indeed already whole, in God, and we are all blameless and equal and complete. I’m forgiving the people I was so jealous of, finally, slowly, tentatively. And I’m willing to set sail from the familiar shores of my thought habits, governed by social and cultural and biological imperatives; the familiar shores of certain places of employment or identification as an artist; in search of truer and truer communication and community.

what is love? it is a direction in which we move. it is a ‘yes’ to the question,’ will you respond?’ It is not a certain response, it’s a commitment to stay open, responsive, curious, TO FLOW.

I would love to talk more specifically about the form of creation I feel called to move towards. But I’m still holding that close to my chest. I’m specifically uncertain whether to include anyone else asa co-creator. I feel that I mustn’t. I feel that I will need supporters and to support, but no cocreators.

and man oh man i am so in love. i am so in love! and i can’t bring myself to utter those little words to this little person, but he  knows. yeah, he definitely know.



Good question. Let me try to be simple and plain here, not stylish, devious, or cute.

This blog is saving me tonight. It’s friggin 3:18am and I haven’t slept for even a second. Why? Jealousy. Enraged jealousy. Jealousy so outrageous and enraged and apparently unfounded that it clearly stems from ancient mud. There are only so many kinds of hurricanes but we give each one its unique name. Katia. Nate. Irene. Gustav. But when it hits, who gives a shit? Duck and cover or face it and be permanently transformed. I won’t bore you with details of the latest event, but I’ll give you a prototype. I can’t seem to recall the earliest onset, but it goes something like this.  Person fancies herself to be complete in every way, and is delighted by some special glimpse given her by the universe. It could be a script. A wish to extend an arts practice. A trip. She attracts or locates others with whom she can share this experience, then plays out a drama internally whereby she is ‘shown up,’ energetically betrayed (in her eyes, or feasibly), outshone, outdone, replaced, rendered a bystander in a foul and very unappealing mood. This has gotten not better but worse over the years, despite layers of self-help therapy and guidance. The latest onset was today, and I’m willing to have it out this time. Cry it out, feel it till I can’t feel it anymore. I’m so embarrased. It’s so unwarranted. Every time. But I sense that the feeling self in every single person is utterly innocent and deserves to be held in our loving attention. What story is this? Oh. Yes. Being an 8 year old dancer from Jonesboro AR taking my first class in the big city and it was then divided into an upper and lower level after a sort of audition. And I was desperate to discern which group I’d been placed in, desperate to know I was in the higher. It appeared to me that I was not. The class was too easy for me; I felt I deserved better. I quit. Thereby ending my potential as a classical dancer before I’d even begun. That may be my earliest case of it.  But what it is, is essentially a story of leaving the womb, plain and simple. You have to learn to include other people in your Heaven, and not think you are both better and worse by alternating blinks. I”m working on this. But probably it’s just some old, pre-verbal mud I need to allow to tenderly breathe out.

This will be a longish post because I’m behind with you, Curious Subjects. The last 20 days have been full. For example my back pain, which I thought was attributed to my herniated disc found on the MRI a few weeks ago, is probably a wad of burning anger I’ve yet to deal with. And all this week I have been creating messes with my S.O. (significant other) just so I can get enraged then embarrassed. My back is healing remarkably and as it has done so my rage has become more and more prominent. I am also completely without prospects of gainful employment as far as I can see and was hoping to take a badly needed vacation to a b and b at Grayton Beach with an old and dear friend of mine.

All of this while tending the fires of the COURSE. I’ve been very very tempted to drop it. Here’s why. The course simply doesn’t have any info about releasing ancient, primordial rage, and that makes me wonder if I’m wise to put so much faith in it. I considered taking 10 weeks off and doing The Presence Process for a fourth time, but after reading Anne LaMott in my haze of embittered insomnia–what a voice, what a soul!–I’m convinced that consistency will serve me better than anything right now.

(I read entirely too much. I think entirely too much.I decide entirely too little.)

So, like a discovery, I am back to day 50 and recommitted to continuing. “I am sustained by the Love of God.” This is the kind of liturgy you just have to dive into and swim across. You can’t taste it otherwise. And I’m afraid I don’t know how to swim but hope the doing will teach me.

I want to note here that I have a right lymph node that is acting up all month. It started to hurt almost 20 years ago, and I have kept it in check with super-green diet and bouncing, but perhaps the steroids I was prescribed, or the amount of soy milk I’ve been drinking, or stress??? ANGER? hmmm. And a weird circle on my left thigh. Everything is erupting. I could be scared but I think I’ll go with it.

And another note for the record. In my wholehearted attempt to come to terms with the use Spirit would have me put my life to, I have realized an intention to dance seems supreme. The truly joyous and pointless art of dance, of sharing dance, of clearing obstacles to dance, and of realizing the body doesn’t even exist as such and neither do we individuals exist as such. “there is only the dance.” t.s.eliot. So starting right now, I propose to spend the first 2 hours of my day putting first things first and working on My Dance Project Whatever The Hell That Is. 6-8am mon-friday. That leaves time to take ballet 9-11 or 11-12:30 and work some kind of wonderfully menial job 12-6 or 1-7 six days a week and make ends meet decently. I just have to find that friggin job. And tell myself that I am not sustained by my job but by the love of god. Not by money. not by food. not by reputation, ambition, house, family, friends, experience, cleverness, charm, wit. The Love of God, straight up.

You don’t have to understand this right now.

Good morning, you.

Reporting on the last ten days here seems more beneficial than trying to check in every day or even every few days. This is a long-distance haul, not a quick trip.

Since I last posted, I’ve hurt my back, and my entire perspective is undergoing shifts. The first injury–well, it’s hard to say. August exactly two years ago, while teaching contact improvisation to modern dancers who’d never done it before, I was trying to demonstrate a simple lift and asked a student to “do nothing” and let me take her weight. well she jumped on my back, and my sacrum has never felt the same since then. With excellent massage therapy, the pain went away for a long, long time. Then this June–am I boring you yet?–before a dance concert in West Memphis, I injured it big time. I moved something I shouldn’t have moved without help. big, awkard, low, and very very heavy. Then proceeded to dance anyway, in terrible pain.

That laid me low for four full days, with accupuncture sessions, ibuprofen, ice, bedrest, I awoke on the fifth day like a newborn, and went right back to my life.

Last Sunday I stepped back into that painful chasm somehow, and this is day 8. Had my first MRI on Thursday–I cried. Have you ever been in that tunnel of light and cyber-punk drones and thumps? what the hell is an MRI anyway? let me find out. maybe it’s a course in miracles.

an mri is magnetic resonance imagery. Sounds pretty common sense to me. The cool thing is it aligns all your water cells temporarily then sends little slices of radio waves through, head to toe, sniffing out disturbances.

this is a lot like letting a dog lick you, seems to me.

Anyhow, I finished day 30 of A Course in Miracles yesterday. I am disoriented, as though I just found out I have been saving money all my life for something that was always mine at birth and need never be replaced, always new.

sending you love, simply.


Hello, You.

I’m not sure how to generalize these ten days. I”m amazed that I’m even sticking with this project, and the appetite with which I’m staying committed. It just feels like I’m undoing untruth. Yes, that’s how this feels.

I’m not going to quote the lessons for these ten days; in this day and age, the lessons are readily available to any curious seeker with access to the internet or a library card. But I will tell you that it is a step into an alternate universe. But since I’m a novice, I don’t trust my instincts completely yet.

For example, about Right LIvelihood, a concept I have always revered. I’ve come to a really, really low place in the last period, in the sense that I took the COURSE literally in its request that we do what we love and what we can’t NOT do, and trust the universe to meet our needs. Well, the editing of my movie has become a completely full-time, all out job, and teaching yoga or doing any other kind of “direct cash flow” work has been impossible. In fact, I have even applied to various jobs and sought gigs, but not one has come through, so I followed the course and stayed on track with my editing work, because it “felt right,” felt like my heart was guiding me in that direction, and in the direction of continuing to feed my dance passion with ballet class and improv and contact jam.

Well, I got scared shitless. Rent was due and I was $200 short on the day we definitely had to pay. But I stayed committed, and it turned out we could afford to front me a portion of my movie pay to cover that expense. And all manner of little synchronicities have stepped forward to help me meet my needs, like when I got a flat tire and the shop did the repair and rotation GRATIS, even after Mom had agreed to pay for it. There’s a real shift happening. And Alicia Munoz replied finally, the woman whose daughter’s birthday party needs some choreography she’s wanting to hire me for. And folks would drop some cash in my bucket for facilitating improv jam. And… I get the feeling that I need to just hang in there right now and be patient with myself during this re-orientation of my whole worldview.

And I am so in love with this man that I dreamed of for many years, and with whom I am blessed to be sharing my life for the last year and a half, and here’s another leap of surrender. Because he is committed to Memphis and that’s an intense subject of fear/desire/anxiety/mental masturbation for me. So letting myself fall in love with him and vice versa has required a reversal of how I see myself, which is as someone who will not live out their life here.

I’m on day 21 today.

Every thing has changed. I’m like a person adjusting to a new glasses prescription, tired, blurry, but I’m also sensing life is “so quite new a thing.” to misquote e.e.cummings.



quick note here. As a result of today’s practice, which is to look about you and say, I  do not see this ____ as it is now, excluding nothing but not fretting over including everything,

I feel fear of letting go some very old perceptional habits;

I feel the danger and joy of new perception;

I feel a petitle, new little world emerging from my senses;

I feel that someone Grand is helping me see clearly;

and I’m very very hopeful. Though I’m sure this hope will get in the way.

I had a Tui Na massage yesterday, my first ever, by an incredible practitioner. It was an hour and fifteen minutes of clarity, stability, creativity, and a rediscovery of a centered feeling in my body in which one things flows right into the other without categories. It was furthermore a way to help my body gently loosen its defenses against new sight, as I’m coming to understand it.

thank you!

I’m summing up the lessons for these days because I haven’t been home to take good notes. I’ve been a bit distracted with post-production, relationship, returning to dance classes, and pondering looking for gainful employment again. Just had a meeting with an old friend–talk about seeing only the past, it seems that our oldest relationships are the most burdensome because we think the treasure of them is their ability to contain so much of our life story, and that treasure turns on us. It’s just no fun to be reminded by others who you’re supposed to be. Who you were yesterday.  so forth. But that doesn’t mean we need to seek only new friendships. Maybe we can regard old friendships as old partners with whom we’ve practiced friendship for a long time. Maybe we can come open and empty and full-hearted at the same time.

We talked about relationships; she’s dealing with the remnants of one, and I’m pondering the future of the one I’m in. I know we’re all in this together, and we’re all ships in the night, at the exact same time.

So the COURSE… day 5 was “I”m never upset for the reason I think.” Day 6, “I’m upset because I see something that’s not there.” Today: I see only the past.”

I was very resistant to this, because I’ve done some of this kind of training before, and to be fair I think I have moved a little bit PAST the PAST, in that I’m able to look with a beginner’s eye, as well as recognize shadows from the past as such every now and then. Mostly I am unconscious, but to see that I see only the past is a struggle.

However. It’s probably true. And it scares me shitless. And it excites me utterly to know that, if I’ve been living in that kind of mirage, what a relief to know I can simply wake up!

All we do is associate, endlessly, keeping ourselves in meaning loops. But this STOPS when I am dancing, when I am improvising, when I am fully engaged in ballet class, in a yoga practice, in facilitating or duetting Contact Improvisation. This wednesday, we had improvisation as we always do, and Gerald was there, adding an element of jazz on the keys, and I mean Jazz, as in shadows and light and freedom and context. Gorgeous stuff, with Sean on gong and a few other secret weapons.

When you’re doing the dance that we do there, you forget who you are,, as Li Po says in “Drinking Alone Beneath the Moon”: one sip and all heaven and earth vanish, leaving me suddenly alone in bed, forgetting that person I am even exists….” …”of all our pleasures, this must be the deepest.”

except that we’re so not alone–and anyway, Li Po means solidarity, not solitude. he means the High Romance of Loneliness. Oneness in which you see no other.

There is no other.

that kind of thing. You feel me? You out there?

(you in here?)


anyway. Good night!