And for all that I'm Thankful

Okay. Time for a little catch up. Or, as they say in India, a little Ket-chu-PEE.

First off, watching the AMAs for aminute last night and Madonna for a minute today makes it hard as hell to take a night off from recording, but I'm beat. I had a dream that an Asian woman was driving me home and she was running things over and missing turns becuase she was so tired. I guess I'm out of touch with my male, Western side (right side of body, left eye, left brain). I ended up in gridlock traffic on the freeway inadvertantly. See what happens when you try to go too fast?

Watching Jay-Z and Gwen Stephani I just wanted to win. Snow Patrol too. I'm hugely competitive but I don't think it had anything to do with them, just that I'm so hungry to drop. I'm working a couple, three hours a night and my guitar playing is good enough and my singing is getting there. Much better than a year ago and just a few whatever it takes away from what I really want. I figure a few whatever it takes should be doable in a month or so. Or maybe I should just do the songs and then go back and do vocals?

If you've ever done an extended artistic project you know how much you grow during the process. It's hard not to want to go back at the end and re-do stuff. To stay with the feel of it. Then there's the question: where were you hurrying and it's not worth keeping? Whatever. After a month of marination, I can pretty much tell if something I've done is shiite or not. I know my book is good because it hasn't aged a second. If anything I enjoy it more now than when I first wrote it.

What I liked about Madonna was her hips. She has the turnout of a dancer and killer legs. The more I learn, the more I learn that we are essentially embodied ideas. Our posture, our muscles, our everything is intimately related to who we are, and what we believe. This has nothing to do with "the beautiful people" being right, or somehow holy, but everything to do with how you look to yourself in the mirror. Not to mention how you feel. A subserviance to authority or others can't help but show up in your stance. The same with arrogance. Same with gentleness, love, strength, boldness, compassion and tact.

Maybe this is just another way of saying that we are who we are--all the way. Anyone who thinks that they can get over--and not be subjected--ultimately--to who they are--is mistaken. There are no shortcuts and the big G holds all the treasure. All of it. You could have a Porche, a trophy wife and a mansion and wake up in dread. This world is important--very--but it doesn't matter.

_____

In the last post I started to talk about surrender. Turns out it's a big subject. I would have told you that I was pretty well adjusted spiritually, especially for a guy who hasn't punched a clock in (counting) fifteen years or so. And took 5 years of that to writeand put out a book.

But it turns out I've been white-knuckling it on a number of fronts. And I've just got to let that go.

I have been in the strange position that I believe so much in people that I didn't believe in people. And so much in the universe taht I didn't believe that any of what I saw was true. But now I'm starting to see that it's all true, and about to change massively, and already changed, and not in need of any change at all.

I don't think this is very interesting, or makes very good reading. Let me step up my game.

It turns out that I have layers and layers of belief and non-belief. And that as I get closer and closer to what I'm here to do (make music, start the mature mass culture mudslide of love, enjoy myself, make and be radical love), I excavate layers like an emotional archaeologist.

For a while I felt like I was going back. I looked back and tried to figure stuff out. I had a therapist. I dealt with "problems" or "issues". I tried to make things better.

Then this worked. And I found a contentment that I had never eveen dreamed of. And I came to the realization that it wasn't "dealing with problems" that had gotten me there but more simply the the confidence or understanding that things were okay--good even. And getting okayer/gooder. It was kind of a Jedi mind trick--ghosts can't scare or chase you if you don't look back. It took a while but I learned how to improve myself without making some big horrible problem that I could freak out about. I learned how to grow without something being wrong to push off of. Then how to keep doing this without external pushes from others or the universe.

So I thought I was pretty butter. And I was wrecked and tired. So, being done, I'd just chill for a while. After all I was fixed and the ghosts were gone. Things were just fine.

Then I had a dream that kicked my ass. And told me that as fine as things were (I was still broke and living at my mom's house, btw), that when I was really done, or had made mor cocrete progress, it would be even more dope.

So I reluctantly took up the whatever and started whatevering.

And a lot of that involved bringing what I had learned in my mind into my body. Which took place at the gym, doing manual labor, sharpening my discipline, etc. Not anything I wanted to do, but I've certainly learned to move when told to by now. And that there are concrete rewards, enjoyment and real life waiting to feel and relish.

It turns out that I met a whole lot of my old beliefs and viewpoints in my body. Maybe they were coming out instead of going in this time, but I still had to deal with them. If you want to believe that this world is magic, if you truly want to have and enjoy the benefits of faith, then you're going to take so many risks it'll make your head spin. And that's just getting you to a strong enough faith so that you can believe what you're really going to do. It's basically leaping practice. Which can be daunting when you realize that the only reason to practice leaps of faith is to take bigger ones, from even more leveraged and compromised positions. (Gulp).

And along the way I'd definitely lock up here and there, if for no other reason that I wouldn't have to process all this nonsense. I'll take the leap, just, fuck it, don't make me go through the damn feelings again.

But that's not ultimately what I, or anyone wants. We want the feelings not to have sway over us. Or to find the love underneath them, not tap them down. No one wants to be a love expert, but here we are, here I am, usually working in some manner to look good, to be as cool, or detached, or macho, or whatever as the guys at the gym. Or even just trying to be better than in whatever conversation we're having. Subtle, wierd stuff.

But I don't want any of that. I dont want any of that in my being. Or anywhere near. I want nonsense to wash over me like a wave, and emerge clean again and again. I want to tolerate intolerance. I want to be humble to arrogance. I want to support discouragement. Not to change it, not even to be better than it (Maybe my old MO), but so I don't have to endure it. Because I know it's either becoming a part of me or I am being free. My physical body. Because I want to be able to sing. And I know once I open my mouth y'all can tell immediately. Cause I can tell. If I'm hiding, if I believe, if I'm fun, if I feel it, if I care--because it's there to be done--or if it's just a job. To be that person there doing it. Being cool. Being the expert.

Back to the point, I'm getting into some deep layers recently. If anyone ever tells you that money doesn't matter, do me and yourself a favor and tell them they're full of shit. That would be right behind saying love doesn't matter. Which would be just after saying the world doesn't matter, which would be just after god doesn't matter, I don't matter, and other people don't matter, respectively.

And it's a whole lot like saying sex doesn't matter. In fact they may be governed by the same chakra if anyone out there knows about that stuff.

Back to the story. The reason I was so envious of Madonna's turnout is that I've had a deep-seated hip injury for years. First from a snowboard incident and then likely compounded by sitting in a seat for my work life and riding a bike for my exclusive transportation for a number of years. And not taking measures to correct it.

I knew it would come down to this eventually. That I couldn't get out of being such a perfect hipster for so long without fixing my hip-ster. (Reverse the hip-gnosis! I once insisted on a Post-It somewhere.)

I'll spare you the gory details. Suffice it to say that hips don't want to do much overnight change. They don't care if you're "left the past behind" or even "are happy now". Their job is to keep you upright and mobile. And like a basement or foundation, they rely on the beliefs and understanding you had when you were coming up to do that. Even if that process involved some sort of trauma. Maybe especially if that process involved some sort of trauma.

So I'm down to the hips. And working toward my feet. Which requires letting go of everything above that. I honestly don't know how there guys who are completely in the moment, or present, disembodied (embodied?)--whatever--how they remember lyrics. Unless they build them into their new muscles and then just do it from rote. Or improvise.

To make a long story short, I'm finding fear and disbelief in my body--on basically a cellular level--that I haven't had anywhere else for a while. How can my legs be scared while my brain is perking along happily? Don't know, but it's true.

The nice thing is that there's nothing compicated about this stuff. If it's muscles you're holding, you figure it out and let it go. If it's muscles I refuse to hold (oh yes, I've got those too), I try to figure out how on earth people go around holding those. You basically do what you least want to do. (Lord help us.)

Which is probably what you most want to do. Be doing.

As Charles Wright (Easy-E's father) said "It’s not what you look like, when you’re doin´ what you’re doin´. It’s what you’re doin´ when you’re doin´ what you look like you’re doin´!" Followed by: "Express Yourself" a couple times and then by "Some people have everything, and other people don’t. But everything don’t mean a thing if it ain´t the thing you want."

Express Yourself!

Sounded pretty right on this am at they gym. (Oh, and where, by the way, I just ordered a custom pair of pink and red Nikes to wear. The pink part is patent leather I believe. And If I remember correctly I ordered ALL*MYTEE on the side. I already wear all red and pink (sometimes a little orange) and have a pink iPod cover and a pink water bottle. Can you say ready for takeoff?)

When I was depressed and suffering significant anxiety I figured out a trick. I would let everything go but whatever was worst and basically stare straight into it. Instead of letting it chase me around and pick away or throw me off balance and get me in a tailspin, I would sit down or even lie down and say "C'mon then".

And it worked. It was much quicker than writing things out and eventually helped me move to real time in my processing of emotions. And sometimes I think that's what feelings are. Just saying check this. The point being to stare straight into it and get quickly back straight rather than try to avoid it and deal later or let it grow. I thought it was a mind game (or exercise) but I see it may be the same with physical stuff as well. Go straight to it. Take the hit.

So how does this work with surrender? With everything being easier? Good question.

I don't think surrender necessarily means relaxing--or easier. Okay, maybe it does. But you may have to, at various times, surrender to the hard work it will take. Or the slow pace of something. The point is that every moment is to be enjoyed--sunk into--even the ones we are thinking we should just grit out teeth and muscle it out. Maybe especially those ones. And then you can even muscle from beneath, from a point of standing under, of understanding as well. Leave it all in your feet--or better on the floor.

But I think the real deal is to be 3-D. To be able to go in any direction at any moment. I had basically given up my days to routine--and thinking I was knowing what was coming--because all I want to do is record music and I have to do my business x number of hours a day to do that. And with eating and the gym and Sunday, that's most of it. But once I let "knowing what was going to happen" go, things started happening. Differently. I didn't know what a day was going to look like. But this only happened after I gave up on both knowing what was going to happen and my body's reluctance of knowing what was going on. It may be all about control.

Being in control was very convenient, as I was pushing myself past where I was comfortable creatively and past where I was used to giving it my all energy wise, and being available to change when I had some time and energy wasn't really a priority, as I was in conservation mode. But a strange thing happened. As much as I was able to give over to it, it gave me more energy.

And now we're getting somewhere.

If you're still with me, god bless you. We're in deep.

I started doing the Suze Orman financial stuff. Money has always, always, always (past tense) been from an annoying trifle to a chronic, raging, stifling frustration. Quite simply I have never felt as though I have had enough. And a periodic glance at my bank account often times confirmed this. Writing a book for five years, you would think, takes more than $8K in starting money. And whenever I've gone to go get the money I needed to go do something, I've found myself without the time or energy to do it.

Extreme frustration of global proportion. Ugggh.

Compound this with the fact that I like the good stuff and no longer even pretend to be interested in going without cashmere (or a clean, dry, warm car) for my art, and you get an embodied feeling of "lack" that can stand up pretty well. You might even say that it has it's own legs. (Me and Suze are working on that, though, even though I don't do much overt "self-help"y stuff these days I may have needed her inspiration and insight on this one).

While writing my book, I learned how to just soldier on. It's the 30th and no rent $$ in sight? Oh well. It's been 3 years, can't stop now. Happen into the guitar shop and learn that my amp sold. Rent for another month.

That dried up around the time I put my book out. Oh well, time to learn how to go even further. Must proove dedication by borrowing to believe in my own creations. Even though I think, almost literally, that it will kill me. It doesn't but neither does the book do anything. I end up with significant debt, which dries up as well. (Not the monthlies, btw, just ability to exercise the line).

My answer, raise the price for the book, start painting, move in with mom, move on from painting to building a studio. Studio prooves pro-sumer, sound quality bunk, start upgrading. This is before almost my first song mind you.

My point is that I've lept so much that leaps almost don't phase me. (Which, funny enough, brought a new concern itself). --But I was still radically curious as to how I could so perfectly broke when I was living as if I lived in a prosperous universe. I told you all about the time I bought a new Rolex didn't I?

How could I still be broke after believeing so long and so hard? It wasn't about my mind, it was about my body. I didn't feel as though I believed. I would take a nap when I was beat but went kicking and screaming, even when I was talking (or writing) about "the beauty of a bath and nap everyday" (That's a quote from the Other Eben, actually.) I didn't believe as in Be-the-shit -Live (instead of dead), I just thought it and acted accordingly.

And maybe this is why it takes 10 years? If a smoker's lungs take 7 to clear out, it could easily take 10 to work the faithlessness and despair out of your dna and riboflaven (whatever). To go from "I believe" to I believe. To work those golden jjuices all the way down to yur cute little tootsies.

I don't want to be recognized as someone who believes, or even look like I believe, I want to actually believe. To feel, believe and understand plenty. I don't need proof, or even for it to happen as long as I feel it. I completely realize that this makes me identical to everyone who's out there searching for mushrooms or blow this weekend. It's what I wanted when I was searching for those things.

The power we have is, in Charles Wright's kind of words, is that we can want what we have. And have what we want.

___________

On another note I saw what I wanted today, hoo boy. The most beautiful woman turned the corner, with a white brother like me in the front seat. And I'd be lying if I said her new car wasn't part of it. I want the whole package. Except the car will be gold, not silver, and I'll be driving. And it'll go with a good sized house. Does that sound good to you, baby?

I kn ow this isn't popular knowledge at he moment, but we men have been too quiet as of late. Come on guys, we know what we want when we see it. We double check with a feel and know for sure with a hold tight, pheramones and discerning experience like anyone else, but we know what we like when we see it. Before we talk. Before we know your political stance. This doesn't mean we all want the same thing. Or taht you aren't beautiful. But there isn't much getting past square one when it's not there. Believe me I tried.

Pretend this is five different posts and I'll roll on.

Who and how I loved was always my greatest fear. I loved beautiful women. Tall, powerful women. Women who scared me.

But I thought, or was taught, that that wasn't right. That everyone was equal and that everyone was worth getting to know. That you couldn't judge a book by its cover.

So Itried dating books I couldn't judge by their covers. And sleeping with women I should have been attracted to. I can laugh now but this shook me to my core. My absolute core. I guess the greater question was how could I know anything or be trusted with anything if I didn't even have a reliable way of knowing who was right for me. What I liked. If I couldn't be the judge--but someone else--some committee had enough authority to tell me this. That my desires were wrong. Schwing!

Every organized religion and most scholastics say the same thing: Too bad you piece of grunt, we can't let you go free. That's what's been messing the whole thing up teh whole time. I figured that there was no way I was smarter that 3000 years of human progress, prophets, artists and spiritual teachers (Even if there wasn't one of their lives I envied--wasn't one of them that I wanted to be). I'm way generalizing here but I hope you can grasp the point.

I even assummed I was gay for a while. I followed my doubt so long and so hard (I had been trained in skepticism and the critical method after all) that when I got to myself, I went in with both guns blazing. If my desires were wrong then my fears must be right. (Warning: do not try this at home! : ) ). I must be gay and really want to move to Hawaii with my friend.

That was the conclusion I came to after believing that happy endings were a scam perpetuated by money grubbers in Hollywood and the truth was ugly and gnarled and cheap like punk rock and Schlitz. Dirt was natural, cleanliness was artifice--because you had to maintain it. I'm laughing but I went out on a limb for these ideas. I went all in. And it was probably more god and the nature of the universe--being positive--that alowed me to do that than my own will. Because you can't doubt yoruself that completely without eroding your own will as well.

If you ever get there, just remember to be complete. If you're willing to give up on everything, give up on unhappiness and despair as well and you'll be fine. But you have to be thorough. Be willing to give up on the certainty that you're destined to lead a meaningless, unglamorous, humdrum life as well. Then you'll be able to come out the other side the rock star, airplane pilot, veteranarian you always wanted to be. It's actually not that hard if you're willing to suspend disbelief with as much determination as you suspended belief.

Anyway, I'm still open to radical correction. And MT (that's Miss Thang) may be 180 degrees from what would be good for me. And if so, you'll hear it here first. But god gave me a little wink as she drove by, and said, yo motherfucker (he didn't actually call me motherfucker, but the intent--that he meant it that hard--was the same)--"Yo, motherfucker--your little All*Mytee ass is going to be all-right. In fact, you're going to be thick as a pig in shit. And if you can be the two-thirds the man you were born to be with HER--with that woman--and you can grow and be in the face of that constant beauty, that strength, that vulnerability, and, when it comes, the horror of that fear, then you, my friend, are going to be in for some wonderful, holy-assed, thisi world shit. I'm glad you did the work to be alive to feel it, and congratulations for finding the discipline without gettting too uptight to enjoy it--you have no fucking idea, my brother, how good it can get. And how long it can stay once you're willing to be ruthless. About your love.

"Welcome to it baby!"

Actually, he didn't say that either, he just put a song on the radio earlier in the day. That I heard in the car coming back from dropping my mom at the airport and running an errand. --One hundred point three. --LOVE FM. The lyrics to that song, by The 5 Stairsteps are:

Ooh-oo child, things are gonna be easier
Ooh-oo child, things'll be brighter
Ooh-oo child, things are gonna be easier
Ooh-oo child, things'll be brighter

Some day, yeah
We'll put it together and we'll get it all done
Some day
When your head is much lighter
Some day, yeah
We'll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun
Some day
When the world is much brighter

Some day, some day, some day
We'll get it together and we'll get it all done
Some day
When your head is much lighter
Some day, some day, some day
We'll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun
Some day
When the world is much brighter

Ooh-oo child, things are gonna get easier
Ooh-oo child, things'll be brighter
Ooh-oo child, things are gonna get easier
Ooh-oo child, things'll be brighter

Right now
You just wait and see how things are gonna be
Right now...

It made me very glad to live in a city where they have a whole station dedicatd to songs like this; Celebration by Kool and the Gang; and More, More, More by Andrea True Connection. And when it came on I cried about as hard as you can when you're on the freeway and have to merge and get over two lanes to make your exit.

__________

And one last thing. I realize now that I've got to want it. That I've got to believe it, and want to believe it. That there is no thing that I should be believing and that by listening hard enough I can discern. It's a ball that's got to be picked up and run with. A nature that must be embraced. A being that can only be embodied--by one person--me. Surrenderedly, of course. And it may not be true for anyone else. But that it must be absolutely certain for me.

More more more, how do you like it how do you like it
More more more, how do you like it how do you like it
More more more, how do you like it how do you like it
Ouuuh... how do you like your love? (X2)