Still Sundays

April 1, 2012.

April fool’s day. Yes, let’s have a worldwide recognition day to reflect that we are all such fools. We know so little and therefore we have so many experts of Knowing!

I want the weather gods to say, “Just Joking!” I want to hear It is all just a hoax that it is December temperatures in April. There is no global warming heading to an ice age. “Please laugh already!” I want to hear from the cold front that lasts longer and longer each month every passing year. I don’t want historians to describe in words “what was once known as Spring”; I want future generations to be able to experience it. Somewhere.

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Yesterday I was a bandwagon fan. I watched the final four NCAA tournament because University of Kansas was playing and if they won they would  advance  for the final game to compete for a national championship.

I attended  University of Kansas for undergraduate studies. Lawrence, Kansas. A small, sleepy, beautiful college city surrounded by smaller farm towns. What do I miss the most? The vibrant colors of the seasons and despite it being a college town the locals had so much to offer to the communities. I miss some of the most dedicated and passionate professors in the liberal arts department. I have been truly lucky: most of my encounters with professors in academia have been with folks who were really passionate about teaching and learning. A few exceptions come to mind, but they are not enough to taint the entire picture.

I miss that I didn’t know how much it had to offer when I was there. I compare thinking about Lawrence days akin to having a freshly cut coconut in front of you and only taking one sip and not continuing despite knowing how divinely refreshing it is. Lawrence was a coconut and I didn’t want to peel. I just wanted out. The energy of the place, sacred, clashed with the influx of college students who were there just to be there and didn’t know why they were drawn to such a town other than its sports culture. The clash was draining and I, similar to others, sought how to escape.

KU won the championship last year in 2008. We await results for 2012.

Some days I believe 2011, and even parts of 2012 so far, have been running parallel to 2008. From tangible similarities such as the  Superbowl opponents and NCAA tournament to choices masked in glittery newness but in actuality they lead to 4 years backwards instead of something truly new and forward.

Why the trickery, Time? What do you want?

Some choices that feel ‘new’ are only bright orange cones warning against the ditches that suck us back into the past, away from the hairpin turning point demanding new consciousness. Drive carefully.

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I had a dream I was in a circus and so was my entire family. It was a lot of work to fool and impress people. So my brother Zain and I came up with the idea of just writing and drawing stories to entertain ourselves.

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There exist such truths that upon telling them we cut any and all energetic chords with the past.

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I am so tired of racism. I am tired because it does exist. I am tired because there is Black and White and all shades in between and the issues are not as black and white and most people don’t understand that. I am tired because it effects us all, not just one person. I am tired because incompetence doesn’t have a skin color. I know for a fact that it is hard for people of color to break into mainstream literary publications. I am not sure though if it is due to conscious racism but just an inability to relate to a story and therefore the rejections. What do we call racism without attachment to race? Ignorance.

I have friends from so many different ethnic backgrounds and I don’t mention that as a get-out-of-jail-of-ignorance pass. In fact, those of us who do have friends of different backgrounds need to be even more mindful of the reality “out there” because often, at least in my case, a lot of my friends are exceptions to the rule.

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I leave this Sunday with two thoughts. I do not have the explicit permission to share the names so I won’t.   I didn’t know I would be sharing them this Sunday morning so I didn’t ask permission in advance.

This is from an email I received regarding certain types of writings:

In yoga, when we breathe into a pose it gets easier. I like to “breathe into” awkward or challenging situations instead of running away. I like to think that it makes us stronger in the long run. Sometimes people see this as intimidating. I tend to view it as mindfulness or accepting consciousness – which isn’t always the easiest thing to be.

And yes it’s not easy to reveal our true selves (and give birth) in public. Fakebook gives the illusion that all our lives our perfect and birth is painless. But the reality is that life can oftentimes be painful. And when we reveal this reality to others it’s contagious. Maybe because it challenges the status quo? Or maybe because we view life through a different lens? It’s certainly not the most “socially acceptable” thing to do.

Every once in a blue moon there is an exchange where I feel I have truly connected. I don’t care if this person is a friend of many years who has known me for a long time or a stranger I will never see again. And the connecting isn’t about my or the other person understanding something on a personal level but a bond of two (or more) individuals’ mutual understanding. This type of connecting amplifies Knowing and becomes a charged force that runs brighter on the trail of this Vast Mystery called human consciousness.

It simply makes me feel alive.

And this is from a text:

Sometimes it seems as if nothing is happening—and then it happens!

A very simple reminder about how things go and how we just don’t know when momemtum becomes a popcorn bag.

I really do wish I could offer the names behind the aforementioned thoughts but I really don’t plan what happens in Stillness. Most mornings I really don’t think I will write anything. I start with the weather because it reminds me how human I am: so very dependent on something that is not in my control. As much as it makes me angry when it is not how I want it to be, it also reminds me—immediately—how much is in my control, that I choose to feel like shit over it or ignore it by accepting what is and doing something in accordance with nature.

But as in life, so through Stillness, you only know what is possible if you walk it. In my instance when I begin writing it truly feels as if I have been plugged into something and thoughts fall like Tetris blocks, one on top of another, until it all clicks SENSE.

I am still developing the muscles to swim in the deep waters of stillness required to finish fiction.

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I will be enjoying a Still Sunday next Sunday with family instead of writing. I will resume writing the following Sunday.

Wishing everyone a marvelous April filled with daffodil memories and moments that will fuel the entire summer as new.

Let the rain kiss you. ~ Langston Hughes, “April Rain Song”

Gratitude.

~a.q.s.

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