Month: August 2011

“I miss you too, Mommy.” That’s what my son just said. It made me cry because I’ve been feeling kind of pressured these past few days. I feel pressured to handle my issues and make them better to I can teach others how to be better.

I wish I was a better mom.

I wish I was a better person.

I wish I didn’t have the outlook I now have on life. I wish I was one of those silly random happy traveling witty people who make funny jokes and are into clothes and going out to parties and shopping.

I’m such a serious person. The only time I’m lighthearted is when I am serving. I love the feeling because it’s not about ME. It’s about making sure that the people I’m serving are having a good time and smile when they leave.

I love doing that. I love when they write me compliment cards without me having to say anything about it. I get quite a few.

I’m not the BEST server, but I do enjoy it.

Anyway, it’s almost time for me to go to work. I’m all geared up for my next project that begins next week but its the month AFTER that has me perplexed. I know I don’t have to do a project every month but I have been looking forward to October for a long time- it marks the 10 year anniversary of me being single.

I wanted to do something special- like break free of the belief that I am unloveable or maybe teach women something awesome about love and relationships but I haven’t figured out what that is yet.

I’ll keep thinking and hopefully I’ll figure out a way to make something good out of my bad perspective.

Overall, I had a good day. I ate icecream and hung out in bed all day. What more could I want?

Imagine that as soon as you’re born you’re taught about the things of the world and you’re given a slice of Coconut Creme Pie. You love this pie. It fulfills your hunger. It tastes sweet. You enjoy it with everyone you know and your family approves. You’re told this pie is the only pie that exists and you are grateful that it is offered to you.

As you grow older, you still appreciate the taste of the pie and your family offers it up as tradition at each family gathering. It hasn’t lost its flavor but you feel that something is missing, that maybe there’s more.

On a trip to a new city, you wander about fingering the wares for sale and you come across- a bakery. Your mind can’t contain the sight you encounter as you walk through the door. Rows and Rows of pies behind glass cases beckon to you- all different flavors, different textures and colors.

You taste and you see that this is good. You sample and your mouth salivates before and after each bite. Blueberry. Oreo. Banana Creme. Apple.

Who told you that Coconut Creme was the only pie? Why would they do that?

You go back home and you look for answers. Through questioning you realize that your family’s fortune was made through their investment in Coconut Creme pie.

Alone you sit in a cafe, lost in thought and staring out into space. A friend of your stops by and smiles down at you before producing a gift from her satchel.

You open it and smile. “A slice of pie for you,” she says. “It will make you feel better.”

You look at the pie and you take a bite. It tastes misleading.

“I can’t eat this,” you tell her.

“Why not? It’s pie.”

“It’s not the only pie,” you share with her earnestly.

“What do you mean? It’s pie,” she counters. “This is what pie is.”

“It’s not the only type of pie.”

“There is only one pie.”

“This is PIE!”

“There are more pies than this,” you tell her firmly.

“There is only one pie,” she says, gathers her things and walks away, fuming.

You look at your fork, traces of creme line its tip. You know there’s no way you can go back. No one can ever convince you again that there is only one pie. You’ve tasted and seen for yourself. How could you ever even pretend to hold that belief.

And THIS is how I feel about religion. There is not just ONE WAY. I can’t go back to believing that.

I wrote this letter to my first love, B. We are still close friends. Before I began this journey of becoming homeless on purpose, not even knowing that it would change my worldview and my life forever, he began a similar journey and he shared his thoughts with me.

Now that this project is over, I emailed him to share a few thoughts, hoping for a reply from him simply because, I miss him. He says that I am his oldest friend and knowing him and having him in my life, makes me feel better about me.

I wrote:

I was able to move up out of homelessness after 4 months. It was a hard journey and I think that I learned some tough lessons for such an idealistic person like myself. One- This is a hard world and most people hate themselves and can not love others. 2- most people are greedy and selfish. 3. I don’t belong here. 4. I cant change anything but myself.

But now, the truth is, I don’t desire anything anymore. I don’t want to be a leader. I don’t want to be a success. I just want my sons to grow up knowing they are loved and valuable and I want to die smiling in my sleep. Anything beyond that would be a gift to me.

I do hope this note finds you well. would love to chat with you sometime.

Love, Tee

He Replied:

Tee, You’ve grown…so much… you understand the naughts of desire, and once you’ve gone a while with the bare minimal, your eye’s look, but your minds’ eye (perception) is clearer, and better yet your consciousness knows…you feel it as an intuition—as truth, that there is nothing in this world to be desired.

They are just superficial attachments of the psyche. The mind trying to find purpose in the truth of reality—that all is fleeting, that all is changing–it is the sole constant in the universe–change. It can’t be tamed, it can’t be reasoned with, and change cannot be avoided. Now I bet conversations seem so empty…you can’t quite put your finger on it. It’s the words and content of what people say that is so filled with desire that it irks you. It does so because you’re aware of a truth that most people only realize at the moment right before they die, I can’t take all of my “accumulations” with me. Not my success, not anything. I hope no one has told you that your just “giving up” on life, and that you’re scared to face it head on…cause they would be so wrong.

Look at it like this: Everything that is born, must die…Everything that is created, must be destroyed. This is the cycle of existence that we see everyday in our lives right before our very eyes and yet we ignore it.

1.) I desire shelter from the elements so I construct a home from wood. The wood however is decaying, it is in constant change, and it will eventually be destroyed and reabsorbed. I know this, you know this, everyone knows this…yet we desire the home instead of being content and at peace with the basic premise of it’s function…which is simply to be a shelter for the time being..should I desire from this anything more than what it is IN ITSELF( decaying wood), I am merely deceiving my self and thus inviting suffering from clinging to something as fickle as the wind.

2.) You said you feel as if “you don’t belong here”. This is the “real you” that is emerging. Think of it like this: The body is like a burning house, constructed of materials that will decay. It is simply a temporary shelter like the home constructed of wood to brave the elements for the time being. Most people don’t even realize it, they’re asleep or sleep walking around the house that is clearly on fire, they arrange furniture, and keep accumulating things(desires) they think are valuable (success, material things, etc), but these are all desires that distract them from seeing that they’re wasting their time. It’s all gonna burn down with the house. But there is something that can’t be burned something that is eternal, it is the you that’s waking up and realizing that something is wrong, that intuition saying “I don’t belong here”, of course you don’t, the house is on fire!

Now how do you solve this dilemma? how do you get at that itch? how do you come to know intuitively, like you do about desire, the you that doesn’t belong? You search for it! You cling to life not because you’re afraid to die, but because you haven’t answered your question yet. You sit down close your eyes, keep your back straight, and put that feeling in the middle of your mind and ask it EVERY SINGLE question you can think of! who are you? Who is that that feels this way? why? what am I not seeing? hearing? feeling? in between the questions focus on the flow of your breath in your chest.. the path it takes as it goes in and out..it gives you life, and you expel death…your body is on fire, the oxygen is the fuel and the food in your stomach is the material that is burning…it’s why you have to keep replenishing it like throwing wood on a fire.

Every breath you take is testament to this…yet we’ve been doing it for so long that we forget this essential aspect of our identity. If my soul is eternal, why is it when I try to stop my breath I gasp? toil? Why won’t I accept it as part of the natural cycle of the universe? What am I afraid of? This is when your true purpose will reveal itself. You will realize that there is nothing in the world to be desired except to come into direct contact with that which is eternal, your true self…higher consciousness.( like I tell you all the time, me telling you and you coming to know this intuitively is two different things) Like I’ve said before…it’s like your consciousness matures with each session.

Put the question of your existence on the forefront of your thoughts,center it…let everything that you say in your mind, deal specifically with that question… don’t go off on tangents, if you do, bring your concentration back on your question than your breath….1. ask the question, focus on it, than focus on your breath..the path it takes, how it moves, every single detail about the process of breathing and then 2. search for the answer in your “observing your breath”. It’s like letting your subconscious answer the question. The key is practice…everything you need to understand the universe and thus yourself and your place in it is within you, because the universe exists within you. We are made of star dust, the processes of the universe are reflected in us.

By placing a question to your subconsciousness, and then focusing on a fundamental aspect of life (breathing) you’re triggering your subconscious to to respond in a manner that is similar to something as fundamental as breathing. You do it everyday and thus the answer is within you and “out of you” (out there) at all times, but like most people ignoring their breathing, we chose to ignore the answer before us. In meditation it is known as “mindfulness”. It actually works. Their are truths to behold when your awareness (not consciousness) expands. You become “aware” of your consciousness. once you’re aware of it, you raise it, teach it clarify it, and like a child it matures…aka higher consciousness.

It’s not the end of your world, it’s the beginning. I’ve been where you’ve been…taking the leap to see what will happens, and coming to know what’s really important. Learn to meditate…mindful meditation to be exact.

With all my Love,

B

She’s searching for answers, just like I was.

She has a gift that she wants to nurture but she doesn’t know how. She called me today and we chatted non stop like friends do. Except, our chatter isn’t the normal conversation about what guys we like or who’s hurting us or what we’ll wear. We don’t complain about anything, we mostly try to figure ourselves out.

She’s searching for answers. “I’m not looking for an authority,” she reminded me. “I just want someone who has been down my path and figured it out so they can help me to understand what is going on.”

I paused for a second as I digested her words. “You’re looking for someone to tell you what you already know,” I offered.

“Huh?”

“Think about it. You already asked one person their opinion and when they offered their answer you didn’t like it so you still went on your search for another answer. What they gave you was TRUTH for them but you’re looking for someone to tell you what YOU want to hear.”

“We all do that,” I continued. “I can tell you what each one of my friends will say about any circumstance that happens. I know their perspectives so when I want someone to support me in what I want to do, I call the friend who I KNOW will be supportive of the thing I want to do.”

“I see what you’re saying,” she admitted.

“I counseled a woman one time who was upset because her husband was cheating. You know I don’t think cheating is the worst thing a man could do so I went through so many different psychological models trying to give her a perspective to grasp onto so that she would give her marriage another chance,” I shared. “She could have chosen to have her AHA moment at anytime during any of those models I shared but she didn’t stop me until I shared a perspective that was in line with what she wanted to do- leave her husband. We’re always looking for ways to corroborate our core beliefs.”

The truth is, there is no truth. Truth is a socially constructed concept fueled by language. When we AGREE to a certain thing, then it becomes truth.

The truth is, we have to decide our own truths. No one is better equipped to decide what is true for us than we are. We can’t give our power away to anyone else by allowing them to decide what is true.

This is the premise of the concept of creating our personal realities.

I miss my dawg.

I know I’m on here venting my frustration with all the ways we were weak and couldn’t help each other but the truth is, in this life, she was my heart.

I miss her.

I miss the way I could call her and not say nothing, not having the words to explain how I was feeling and she would get it.

The first time I ever met a woman I was attracted to, I was freaked out by my emotions and I didn’t know what to do. I drove home and called her.

“Prince.”

“Mmm hhh?”

“Prince, this girl in came in the restaurant today.”

“Ok.”

“Prince.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Exactly.”

“Ohhh.”

See! Who else am I going to do that with? ~tears~

I wanna hear about the ladies at work and how it is being a manager instead of a co worker. I wanna hear about what she’s manifesting and what color nail polish she’s wearing with what dress. I heard she moved. How could she move without letting me help? She would describe each place in detail and we would go through the motions with me asking her, “What are the benefits of each? Let me look it up on google maps. Show me the floor plan.”

We used to text each other pictures when we would get dressed to go out to help each other get dressed. I would go over to her family’s house when she wasn’t even in town. I was so sick one day and had no one to take care of me and I went to her mom’s house and her mom and grandma made me food and her mom rubbed me down with medicine like I was her own child.

I never thought we wouldn’t speak. I never thought my existence would ever not include her. The only thing is, I know it’s the right thing to do but it hurts so much.

I have other friends that are awesome. I get to learn with Sylvia. I get to laugh at life with Anna. I get to dream big with Mimi but it’s the “nothing” times that I spent with Tamara that I miss most.

I’ve been walking this world by myself, it feels like I’ve had no traveling companion but even though she hasn’t physically been there, she was there with me and I was there with her.

There’s not a single project I’ve ever done that she hasn’t helped with. When I started my website, I called her up and she stayed on the phone with me until she fell asleep, listening to my plans and offering her input. Most of my books are based on her troubles. LOL

I miss my friend. My standards for friendship are very high and you can’t just be my friend, it ain’t easy to get in good with me because I’m not friendly and I don’t like petty women who don’t know how to chill and have fun with no boundaries and can’t SHINE when they walk in a room. She fit me.

And I’m hurting all over again although I know it’s right that we need to separate so we can grow, this shit is not fun cuz no matter how many times I used to SAY I was lonely, I wasn’t really because I had her and now I REALLY, don’t have anyone to share my “nothings” with.

And I miss that the most.

I know in this life, I’ll never have another relationship like that. She is and was my last best friend.

~tears~

I watched this movie called The Civilization of Maxwell Bright and “meeting” the lead female character really gave me the chance to see how an admirable woman interacts with the world.

Who’d have thought that a random pick on Netflix would result in such a heart change for me. In so many ways, this movie spoke to me and pointed me in a new direction.

I’ve been sick in my heart lately. I think it’s mainly because of my interactions with my roommates. On the surface they are very nice people, but there’s a level of judgment that lies beneath and comes out in conversation almost everyday. I try to limit my interactions because of this.

When I spoke of visiting a particular neighborhood, my roommate’s husband said, “Wilton Manors. You’re GOING there? Do you know what goes on there?”

I cringed. Wilton Manors is a neighborhood that is home to mostly gay people.

“You mean the fact that it’s a gay neighborhood?” I challenged sweetly. “What’s wrong with that? I’m gay. It’s not like you’re going to catch anything.”

And so it goes on. I find out he’s a certified pastor and it all makes sense now. I hate to write this but every time I meet a Christian, it’s like an early judgment day. They talk about others as though they have all the answers and no one else has gotten it right. They criticize and condemn, looking down on people who don’t agree with them- at least the ones I’ve met. Every time I meet a new person and they confess their Christianity, after getting to know them, it pushes me further away from the religion.

I don’t want to be judgmental and irritated by the world. I don’t want to walk around telling people who they should be and how they should live. I just want to love everyone and everything and be content with what I have.

I found a perfect model of this type of character in this movie, The Civilization of Maxwell Bright. Mai Linn, the wife of an extremely emotionally wounded man who lashes out at the world at every chance he gets, is extremely remarkable. She’s Buddhist.

He says to her, “Teach me this book (The Tibetan Book Of The Dead).”

She resists at first, “It’s not my job to convert you to Buddhism,” she says.

“I converted myself, now teach it to me,” he commands.

And he becomes a Buddhist. Not because she threatened him with hell and a thousands way to burn. Not because she bullied and shamed him into submission. Not because she promised him a reward of everlasting life. Not because she mentioned Buddha in every other sentence and forced him to worship with her.

“It’s not my job to convert you…” she said.

He converted because of the way she interacted with him and the world. A wordless yet powerful spirit spoke more than any sermon every could. She was poise personified.

She never let his harsh words get to her.

She wasn’t defensive or harsh with him.

She was a true servant, taking care of him in every sense of the word.

She taught him through example instead of force or coercion.

She forgave him for his ignorance and loved him anyway, without punishing him for mistreating her.

She wanted to help him heal.

She wasn’t interested in what he could give to her, only how she could serve in his healing process.

I want to be that selfless, that honorable and THAT poised in my dealings with the world.

I want to be that kind of gift to someone’s life.

I appreciate that when I encounter people living by Buddhist principles I get nothing but love and respect. No judgment. No fear based doctrine. Just love and respect and more love.

I think I’m going to look into studying Buddhism a little more. They say once you begin studying, “The Way,” you are a Buddhist.

Let’s see if I can capture the balance I so earnestly seek.