Path to Passion – Journaling

 

So, I’ve been on a journey for a couple of years. My primary relationship has been frustrating for me. There is a lot that’s involved in it, I am sure more will come out at some point, but suffice to say that for the last several years, I have been in a sexless marriage. I never asked for this. The irony of this is that to some degree, I think this is somewhat of a coping mechanism for my partner. He has unresolved childhood issues and his mom died a few years ago. In addition to that, he comes from a family that was very “Patriarch/Father” centered, and that’s how he believes the world is. His dad was also a chronic cheater, to the degree that after their mom died, the other adult kids got to meet the “other woman” and essentially his dads other family. So, I have been trying to have a fully embodied, awesome middle-aged sex life, been denied by my partner, who was forming bonds with other people. It all blew up a few years ago, and I basically told him to figure out what he wants.

Since then, I’ve been working on myself. The bottom line is that I have no control over anyone else’s happiness but my own. I knew I wanted this for myself, so I started studying with a tantra teacher. Even without the sex, I am not unhappy with my partner. We generally get along well and we co-habitate well. Tantra has been huge for me as far as forgiving and healing myself from all sorts of trauma and abuse that happened in my younger years. I’ve been heavy all my life and there was a lot of self-hate, stressful times that had me encasing myself in a layer of fat to protect myself, part of myself and sort of keep my self-loathing at bay. But it was still there. I had a huge amount of trauma around my sex organs, had always been told that masturbation was wrong and to be honest, my mom had taught me that the female orgasm is a myth. That having sex with men was something you did to get men to take care of you, and you just had to submit when they wanted it, no matter if you wanted it or liked it. It’s take A LOT of healing to learn to love myself and love and appreciate my body. It was time to move to the next step….

I started working with a coach over a year ago, and she just seemed so fun. She always seemed light and airy and she had such wisdom and a way about her. She taught things like authentic relating, and it was all deliciously nerdy and cerebral for me. A little while ago, she invited me to a thing she is a coach for called Path to Passion. In some ways, I wish I could call it something different because yes, it is path to passion but it’s also an entire other way of things about life, sex and pleasure that helps heal so much within us. This Path to Passion thing was a three day conference that was amazing and I am continuing to work through things. I am going to be journaling here about what’s happening, what I’m learning, and how it’s affecting me and my relationships. There may be diversions, as this relates to some other important work that is super meaningful to me, but there’s nothing like letting it all hang out, so here we go.

You should start to see two divergent types of entries here. I’m going to continue to work the anti-racism path and answer those questions, then there’s Path to Passion stuff, and also consent educations. I’ll explain that in the next entry. For now, time to hot tub <3

~Peace

A4BL – Day 1 – Accountability Questions

 So, today was day 1 of this training. The title of this course was “Foundations for Black Survival and Wellness”.

Q: How do you now understand the ways in which anti-Black racism manifests personally, relationally, and collectively?

A: I have done a lot of thinking and a lot of pondering on this question. I feel like a different person, back on June 19th, than I was before that. And that’s my own ignorance. It manifests everywhere. All the systems we’ve learned, grown up in and helped sustain are racist. I remember things, and they were done so nonchalantly, and they  reinforce the idea that the white man is the apex of our society. Relationally, my mom understood this on a a level I didn’t, but I don’t even think SHE understood how systemic it is, I think she just always said to us “This is how things are”. Bullshit.

Q: Reflecting on your personal experience as a non-Black person, what moment in your life, recent or past, solidified the reality of anti-Black racism?

A: I mean, in some respects it seems trite to say that George Floyd was the catalyst. I think that modern media and proliferation of cell phones have helped amplify this, but I’ve always had a sense of this. I guess maybe I thought it was something of the past, but didn’t realize how prevalent it still is today. I was alive and able to watch the original “Roots” mini-series as a child. I remember thinking how awful it must have been for PEOPLE to be treated like that by OTHER PEOPLE. When I was in middle school, there were fewer than six black people at our school. There was a pair of sisters and one guy. His name was Harlan. I heard at one point that he liked me. I remember feeling uncomfortable with that, but I didn’t know why. Other people made fun of me because the black kid liked me. I think they made fun of him too because I was the chubby kid. We never did get together, but I always have had lingering guilt when I think about Harlan, because I think I would have liked him too, if I had allowed myself.

Q: As you ponder on the experience above, how (personally, relationally, and/or collectively) did anti-Black racism manifest?

A: I think personally, it manifested because I felt shame for not allowing myself to like this person who liked me because he was black. That wasn’t done, and I had lots of people tell me that it was bad, bad, bad. Relationally, I likely deprived myself of an amazing experience, perhaps friendship and perhaps more because of racism I didn’t even know I had, it was just THERE.

Q: Continue to reflect on the experience above, in what ways did collective anti-Black racism facilitate that experience?

A: I have only now realized how absolutely automatic these things are. When I was a later teen, I dated a black man and had a brother who was very upset about it. By this time, I had gained some perspective and definitely more confidence. My brother and I did not speak for a lot of years because he was not willing to see the man I was dating as an equal human and I was unwilling to have that sort of behavior in my life.

Q: How have your intersecting identities (gender identity, dis/ability, religion, class, etc.) as a non-Black person impacted your understanding and awareness of anti-Black racism?

A: I just realized this year, in doing much of this work, that people see me as white. This was truly a revelation to me because I don’t see myself that way. I realized I’ve had this privilege all along and didn’t realize it, because to most people, I do pass, I look white. This actually offends me. Brown, white-passing, female. Those are my intersectionalities, as I see them right now.

Q: Identify barrier(s) that may impede you from immersing yourself into understanding and being aware of anti-Black racism?

A: I try hard to see the barriers. I think white people or white passing people not being open to new ideas are a part of this problem. I think learning to say “wow, I never thought of that” is a start. Also, being willing to listen no matter what. Also, I think we do tend to center ourselves. Being aware of that and conscious to ensure it doesn’t happen is key.

Q: How will you begin to address the barriers you named above?

A: Staying open to all viewpoints, even if I don’t agree.

Q: Reflect on your thoughts, emotions and physical reactions throughout this conversation. What came up for you as you engaged in this conversation? What do these feelings indicate to you?

A: I am now doing this several months after the course. I’ve sat with it and processed for a long time. I have to keep doing the work. I see how offended other people are, and I shake my head. I hope at some point, they are willing to look within. I’m not perfect, I am sure I will make mistakes. I will ask for understanding and strive to do better in the future.

Black Lives Matter…Doing the Work

 

 

Okay, ya’all, it’s about the get real up in here. I’ve known for a long time that Black Lives Matter, and this has been a thing for me for a long time, before this, and yet. I have intersectionalities that make me recognize oppressions, or “otherness” to some degree, but I am not Black and I will never, ever understand what people go through who are judged only by the color of their skin. This isn’t about me…100%.

And…this has been so heavy on my mind and on my soul. Dang, it really, really hurts me. I had been searching, for what I wasn’t sure. I know that I have not done enough with the privilege that I have. In my day job, my department, although we support, install and maintain classroom technology, is technically attached to the libraries at the University, it’s a long and convoluted story why, but there are things I love and things I love less about being attached to libraries. One of the things that I love is that the librarians on our department-wide list often post stuff they think might be interesting to others, and for the general education and well-being of all. Earlier this month, someone was awesome enough to post about a class that was constructed by a group of Black scholars named “Academics for Black Survival and Wellness”. It was sort of an ad, or a link to connect one to a course that would run for seven days and  would spend 8 hours a day for seven days teaching people about Black Oppression and the war and terrorism that has been waged on Black People in the United States from before slavery (so, really, from the 1400’s) through today. It started on Juneteenth. I was late to the game. They engineered “accountability groups”, so that folks taking this class could say what they would do and what they would continue doing to help end Black Oppression. Since I missed that part, I am making my diary my accountability group.

I need somewhere to download all this stuff, get it out of my brain and to help me codify my thoughts. My hope is that someone will see this and engage with me. I don’t want this to be about me. I am so, so, so aware of my privilege in so very many ways, and I also need a place to put my accountabilities, a place to express my feelings, because this is heavy work. I am behind. I found that I could not “take” eight hours a day. Yes, that makes me a chicken shit when being taught by people who have spent their entire lives in oppression. I am an empath and I can’t watch stuff like that and not cry. Because I see the humanity in people. They are PEOPLE. It’s hard for me to watch kids in cages, see people treated badly, abused, shot, killed. And, my inaction thusfar isn’t enough. My tears and my feeling badly are not enough. It’s not enough for any of us. If we are not actively engaging to change these systems of oppression, we are complicit in it’s continuation, and that is no longer okay with me. So, they concluded the seven day course today, and I am on day four. I am going to continue to get through the material, because I don’t know how much longer it will be up, but I am taking copious notes and pictures, and will also be pasting resources and stuff here. For myself, and for anyone else that might be interested. This will be geeky, and it will be hard work. It’s not easy to see and hear and ready about this stuff that has happened. It makes me physically ill, which is why I sometimes have to stop.

However, in the same way that I visited Auschwitz while I was in Germany, I feel a need to do this work. During WWII, 6 million Jewish people were annihilated. In the work I have done over the last four days, one scholar estimates that over 100 million Africans died as a consequence of the European Slave trade. Think about that for a second.

As a primer, if you are someone who is in the podcasts, the New York Times did a podcast called “1619”. It’s the tip of the iceberg on this, but has amazing information. Here’s a link to it: 1619 Podcast  

From there, the last two episodes are about a contemporary black farmer who has been systematically forced to not farm because of discriminatory lending practices. They have a GoFundMe, and I have donated, and say, if you can, please do. Provost Farms GoFundMe

Let’s see how this goes.

Peace.

The Big Pause

 

I gotta be honest here. I was in a supervisors Teams meeting today, and I told them I volunteer to work from home for the next 9 years until I retire. I’m kind of loving it and kind of dreading going back to work, to “the grind”. For reals.

In our lives, we all make choices. When I moved back to my home town, over 20 years ago, I made a conscious decision to work in the public sector. Less money, more freedom, better benefits, more stability, better chance of getting to “be there” for my children as they grew up. Sometimes I wonder what life would have been like had we chosen differently, but in general, I am okay with this choice. Right now, I feel a tremendous amount of privilege also. I’m still getting paid. I am “working from home”…still accomplishing what I need to, and also having a tremendous amount of freedom once those things are done. Not having to fill the hours between 7am-4pm EVERY DAY at a place that isn’t my house. I like this.

I just realized that I never posted this. I don’t remember now when I wrote it. Likely…..mid-April? May?

I spent a quiet birthday this year. 52!! Completed a major project. We have a room that was my son’s when he was a teen. It had become our “closet room” several years ago, which most recently had translated in to “throw stuff here when we don’t know what else to do with it, we’ll deal with it later”. Something else that had been very clear in my life is that I literally pay for the house we all live in, and yet, *I*, in particular, had absolutely no personal space to call my own, where I have my own things and where my stuff could BE. The first challenge was clearing out a whole bunch of stuff, which happened, then creating my space. It came out SO GOOD and now I type to you from this space.

I think as things continue to “normalize”, I hope that more people are able to acknowledge and realize that this sort of “reset” was absolutely needed on so very many levels. I think this is enough for this entry, let’s publish!

Peace!

 

 Today marks one week of being off work. Or, rather, “working from home”. I have so much privilege in my life, I feel guilty a lot. I try to be aware of it, see it.

I honestly can’t see life going back to the way it was before all this hit. I now have a personal connection with COVID-19. A very dear friend I met via Burning Man is recovering. She was asthmatic before and got it. My grand daughter just got out of the hospital Saturday, they wouldn’t test her because she hadn’t travelled but we also believe she is asthmatic. She was supposed to go see a pulmonologist two weeks ago, when all this started and they called us the night before the appointment and told us not to come. Our goal is to get home oxygen prescribed so she doesn’t have to go to the hospital when she gets sick like that. There are sick people in hospitals, dammit.

She’s my daughters youngest, turned 3 last November and she has the most awesome hippy name ever. My daughter outdid herself on this one. Her name is Aurora Rainer. Their last name is Starry. She is the spitting image of my daughter when she was a baby and that often melts my heart. The sass is also strong with that one, so we are all in big trouble. Here’s an older picture of her. Think I am going to go back now and see if I can find the pics from when we moved the bus out to the property….

And then the world changed…

 

Man, life is a trip.

I’ve always been a happy person. I try really hard to be thankful for what I have, recognize my privilege, and understand how much worse life could be. I’ve been so lucky in my life, truly. I love my job. This last week has been hard for me because at times, I don’t know what to do with myself. I like going to work, contributing, feeling like I am making a difference on the college campus where I work and put in lots of volunteer time to make the world more beautiful.

In many ways, much of my life the last twenty years has prepared me for this moment. I participate in a perpetual experiment in temporary community known as Burning Man, for almost the last twenty years. We pack up everything we need to survive and head to the remote Nevada desert and build the states sixth largest city for seven days and then make it disappear, as though it never existed. I know how to be isolated. I say I am an extroverted introvert. I CAN public speak, perform, and be “on” all the time. But it takes a toll, then I need to isolate and recharge myself. I like being alone and generally am my own best friend. For me, the challenge hasn’t been “how am I going to do this?!” But rather, “ What if I like this new, slower life and world BETTER and what will I do to make my life stay that way?!” I am at a crossroads in my life too. I just passed 21 years at my job, was planning to work or buy out to 30 years and then retire to our off-grid property and maybe travel a couple times a year.

Here’s the thing. There are defining moments in time and history. Now, we all know it’s possible to work remotely. I have a part time gig with the folks who run that event and almost all their folks work remotely. Do I take a lesser retirement and try to find a gig or wait for one with this place? I’d be lying if I said the thought had not crossed my mind….

Do any of us believe, after this 30 days is over, or however long it takes, that things will just return to how they were before? There’s a very big part of me that sincerely hopes not. This is a huge wake up call for humanity. It’s easy to scoff and call something welfare or socialism when it’s still possible to deny the dire straits some people live in. Much less so when literally over 50% of our population is affected….service workers must go to work sick because of lack of leave, incomes disappearing because of closure. What will happen after?! I hope people who need to see these things do. Maybe we can use this as a jumping off point to do better….here’s hoping.

I needed to get that out.

Peace.

Trouble at the Kowpound…from 2016

 

Uh-oh…..

 

So, this is the first picture we took of what we thought, then, was the Kowpound. We were super scared and nervous. We had gone to scout it out. Hubs had a cool program for his phone that put those lines and stuff on there. But we were upset because THERE’S A CONTAINER ON THE PROPERTY!! That is not our container…..

We were getting ready to start doing the things! How could this happen? Did someone already squat on our land?!

It doesn’t really get more rural or barren than that. I mean, for reals….we had to get to the bottom of this!

Turns out, this sale had gone through a place called “Government Land Sales”, which sells off previously federally owned land. When I had first communicated about taking over the contract on what was my son’s property then, we had email exchanges between a guy who works at this place. He had sent us an internet link we had saved, and it went to this plot of land. On further investigation and after I’d sent the panicked email, the guy emails back and apologizes. I guess they recycle the links based on which pieces of land are still available. He actually had a few, so he had said which he thought was the best, and since this had all come up, they’d be willing to give us any of those available, for just like a hundred dollar transfer fee, or whatever.

Now, for folks who are saying “Wow, that’s great, but I’m sure that’s not affordable for me.” Government Land Sales, people. It is rural. There are no improved roads. Everything is dirty. BUT. buying ten acres of land out here was less than the cost of a car. It was literally about $10k. 10 acres. We aren’t sure yet, even still, if we will have water or how we will solve the water issue. It’s near a military installation, but as I’ve already said, it’s beautiful and we’ve fallen in love with it….

We are going to try to make it work….the story continues moving forward, but trying to get in the habit of writing again. Here’s another sunset, from the early days…

Peace….