a boy & his dog-without the dog

Emotional Sobriety

2011-02-18T16:14:00.002-05:00

This is a talk given by a man who is no longer alive. His name was Tom Brady, Jr., and he identified himself as an alcoholic. Often times at twelve step program conventions there are speakers who tell their life stories, with the purpose of maybe allowing someone else to identify and relate to them.

This talk, although including some details of Mr. Brady's life, is more about something that many people beyond only those who feel they are alcoholics can relate to. He titles it, 'Emotional Sobriety', and it is almost entirely directed at symptoms, behaviors and beliefs that manifested in his life after he quit drinking!

I recommend it as an amazing listen, regardless of your personal inclinations towards addiction--if you have ever felt that you were emotionally out-of-whack, then download this file and listen to Mr. Brady talk to us.

Tom Brady, Jr. on Emotional Sobriety

Seattle Hip Hop

2011-01-27T22:42:00.007-05:00

Have you ever been there?

It is beautiful-at least that was my experience-during the Memorial Day weekend I spent there in 2007. I fell in love. The view, the vibe, the layout of the city over gentle hills...wow!

At the time, my friend mentioned a show I had just missed for a group called Common Market. The two members of the group are both Baha'is, and my interest was piqued. Some time later I purchased Tobacco Road, and later their Winter's End EP.

Brasso by Common Market

So if you know anything about Northwest rap, you would assume that I naturally connected the dots and checked out Blue Scholars, a hip hop duo that features one-half of Common Market: Sabzi.

But no. I didn't. Ever. In fact, it took my recent resurgent interest in less 'pop'-ular music, along with these next guys to get me around to Blue Scholars. And my brother. He helped too.

Macklemore and Ryan Lewis put out an album. Then they re-released it with remixes and some bonus tracks. Free. I stumbled across the remix of Otherside. Listened to it, liked it, and it got forgotten in the influx of new music I was processing. Another day, I stumbled across another mp3, and this time I saw a picture of the guys. Intriguing. And slightly ridiculous. Also, quite hip. Too hip for me. Seriously, I only wish I could pull off a look like that. Okay, blah blah, get to the point... I loved the Vs. EP. It's a free download here...or you can pick up the re-release, The Vs. Redux at iTunes. Redux includes all the originals plus remixes and a bonus track. It's only $6...support these guys!!! $6 for some dope hip hop?!?! Check out Macklemore's blog for videos for their songs submitted by fans; my favorite is Stay at Home Dad. Ryan Lewis has some other projects going on too - his website is here.

Vipassana by Macklemore & Ryan Lewis

Okay, so I was listening to the above song, and then I was like, "WHOA! Did he just say Baha'u'llah?!" Rewind...yes he did. Check it out for yourself.

Below, Life is Cinema continues a trend that I picked up on in Otherside and Irish Celebration-this dude is recovering. Or recovered. But the song below has a line I wish I had come up with...it just is such an accurate description of the insanity...

Selfish, Selfish, Selfish, Yeah, Me, Yeah, Me, Yeah;
Girlfriend, Break up, New one, One-night stand, Cheat, Cheat, Repeat that;
Drug use, Clean up, Drug use, Drug use, Clean up, Drug use, Rehab;
%$@# you I suck dude, Self loathing, Self esteem, Ego than Me again

Life is Cinema by Macklemore & Ryan Lewis

Their group just dropped a new song this week as well, titled Wings. Go check it out as Macklemore paints a correlation between consumerism and...well, you'll see. Also you can support their efforts to make a video through kickstarter.org and the song is available for download off of Macklemore's blog (link up above somewhere).

Since I am just getting to know Blue Scholars, I won't post anything of theirs yet. Although I did just listen to a song with KRS-One, Talib Kweli and Geologic (the other half of the group) titled 'Oh Really'...

I know there is more SEA hip hop out there...the Grynch popped kept poppin' up, but I haven't listened to him yet. Can't hand it all to you...I leave you with the video for Macklemore's track...White Privilege.

Eric & Magill

2011-01-11T01:31:00.004-05:00

I have found a plethora of free music on the internet. It started with the free songs Amazon offered me on their site, and I gradually have expanded my searches. Labels put out entire albums of free material-samplers-to give bands exposure. But a lot of the samplers I downloaded were filled with junk. So I began to believe that ALL free albums were junk.

So when I came across 'All That I Know', I was skeptical. An entire album for free? I listened to the title song, and liked it, but still wasn't sure. But I downloaded it anyhow, planning on listening to it a little later. Fast forward a couple weeks, and their songs started popping up in my iPods shuffled songs. I really dig a couple of these songs-when I am in the mood for some laid back music that is. So give 'em a listen.

Grandpa's Pink Wine by Eric & Magill

You can download their entire album here at their bandcamp site. (Ryan...bandcamp is another awesome site you are going to love!)

Favorite New Song...OR...His name is Rio and he dances blah blah blah

2010-12-29T23:28:00.006-05:00

photo by Erick Duque

First a little disclaimer...this is a really good song. Really good. You have to give it a listen. Please.

Yes it is my name. But that's NOT why it is my new favorite song. Really. Just give it a listen. You'll see...

Rio by Hey Marseilles

Now...was I telling the truth? That has to be one of the most infectious jams I have gotten a hold of in quite a while. Hey Marseilles is quite the band, a 7 piece group to be exact. You can check them out at their website or you can watch the video on YouTube...here!

This is a recent video they shot on tour...its an acoustic version of the song...DON"T watch this without listening to the studio version also!!

Since this post has started off rather decidedly self-obsessed, I figure why quit now?! Here is the original Rio in song; sung to me repeatedly throughout my life upon introducing myself to someone. I never even knew what people were talking about...somehow I missed ever hearing this Duran Duran hit. I blame my mom for not letting me near MTV when we visited my cousins. So I was a freshman in college before I ever heard this song "played". If you really want some '80s hilarity, go find the music video for this song!
Rio by Duran Duran

From here on I just did some digging and found a little of this and some of that. Lots of Latin and Spanish music/influence goes with this name, as you would expect. Also a good bit of electronic, and of course, a Brazilian funk/jazz/something band from the late 70s...Banda Black Rio. Check out their video.

Rio by The Salvadors

Southern Australian band...from Adelaide to be exact. Their single Atacama Disco was what was getting all the attention so check it out too.

Rio Mescalito by Thunderball

These guys popped up during the "rio" search. I am just going to give you the link to the RCRD LBL blog, where you can read a short write-up, and also get the link to the remix by Mexicans With Guns. Click Here

picture by gabriellasouza

Vidigal by Banda Black Rio

They are still a group, of course not the same as in the 70s...they have a websitetoo!

Bom Dia Rio (Posto 6) by Bossacucanova

I really dig the blog that I found this on...hErE.

Heartless by Rio En Medio

A women. A voice. Listen and see what you think.

Lastly, go to Rio Blanco's MySpace page and have a listen to his song Wild Doves. I would share the song directly but I deleted my MySpace account earlier this year, so you're on your own.

photo byErick Duque

That's all the Rio music for today....BUT WAIT! My actual name isn't (technically) even Rio...sooooooooo I looked up my real name, and found what I was looking for...

Delores O'Riordan--lead singer of the Cranberries--her last name is my first name! I thought I would leave you with a song by her, than I realized that we all know those songs, so I will leave you with a link, to a blog where you can play a song by Passion Pit COVERING her band and their hit 'Dreams'.

My Newest Music

2010-12-21T09:52:00.005-05:00

It's been a while eh? Right now I want to write, but I haven't been able to bring myself to do it...or a lot of other things either. I am excited about sharing some of the music I have been discovering...not so much new music but just new to me.

Ashley and I have been living in a home since late August, and one of our roommates was named Tyrie. His sister had already described him to me as "obsessed with his music" and I was all like "Oh yeah I like music a lot too." She just shook her head and let me know that he really took his music seriously. Anyhow, the first time I spent a little time with him was in the car heading down the mountain. I didn't know anything that he was listening to. Then I drove his truck one day and the mix CD he had in the stereo blew me away. I ripped it, and harassed him for more of his music. Some nights I would get home and he would still be awake late into the morning, reading music blogs and downloading new stuff.

A clarification here...music blogs and downloading songs in the manner I am going to offer isn't the same as massive file sharing or piracy. Many artists have accepted and embraced the internet as a means for getting their work out there. I am not going to put entire albums up, but just songs that I like. If you do too, support the artists. If an artist wants any of these removed I will do so immediately upon them contacting me.

Anyways, I finally jumped into the music blogging world a couple weeks ago. In two days I had over 300 new songs and artists to listen to. When Tyrie left for Florida, he gave me a bunch more stuff that has broadened my mind even more. It reminds me that once upon a time I wasn't so in to the mainstream/pop/radio listen to what everybody else is stuff. I've vacillated back and forth with my musical tastes, and a lot of this stuff is new and exciting to me. I hope it will be for you too.

(I won't assume everyone knows this...listen to it on the player, right click on the link and select 'save link as')

Older Brother by Pepper Rabbit

This was the first truly new artist I came across. Everything prior to this was searching for stuff about bands I already knew or music others had given us. I haven't done much reading/research on any of these groups, so I am only going to tell you a little about each one. I liked this instantly.

Sunrise by Yeasayer

Yeasayer was the first band that I really loved the sound of on Tyrie's mix cd. This is a song from their album 'All Hour Cymbals'...awesome. A note here--credit is also due to a great friend of Ashley's Jaden McTaggart, who works with her at Earth Fare. Right around the same time I got my hands on the mix cd, Jaden ripped the new Yeasayer album, 'Madder Red', for Ashley. He has since made her an amazing mix cd as well, which gave me lots more material to search for. Jaden has confessed to also being afflicted with late-night music blog reader syndrome...hopefully he will get the recovery he so desperately needs!

The Vowels Pt. 2 by Why?

This song came right after the Yeasayer song on the mix cd, and for a while, I thought THIS was Yeasayer. It's not. But its Awesome. Cheerio.

Looking For Alien Love by YelaWolf

I hadn't heard of him until I got Big Boi's newest album where he guests on a track. At first listen I thought "He reminds me of Eminem" and then I got a hold of another song...there may be a lot of his stuff that I want nothing to do with, I dunno cuz I just downloaded his mixtape from this year...but this one I like.

That is all the room for this post...I have some more coming. Love YA'LL!

Flowing River Massage

2010-07-21T13:10:00.002-04:00

Go HERE to get directions to my office.

I Know, I Know!

2010-06-25T01:53:00.002-04:00

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Current mood: good
Category: Blogging

"There is a principle which is a bar against all information, which is proof against all arguments and which cannot fail to keep a man in everlasting ignorance-that principle is contempt prior to investigation." --Herbert Spencer
Reprinted in the Second Appendix of Alcoholics Anonymous

How often have I said
"I know!"
usually interrupting another who is trying to pass on some sort of learning to me.

When I look at this statement,
I realize that what I am really saying varies
but it could be
"I don't care"
"You bore me"
"You (and your opinions) are not important to me"
"You go to hell! You go to hell and you DIE!"
okay not that last one so much
[btw you have to do that last one in Eric Cartman's voice]
when i say "i know"
i cease to listen to the experience
coming from outside of myself
since we are most definitely our smartest somewhere
between ages 15 and 18
we are likely to use this statement quite a bit
and deprive ourselves of all types of useful knowledge
but if you are like me,
and you carried this "i know"
from a much earlier age,
and then matured at about the same rate
as a sea tortoise,
you may still be dealing with the "i know"
phenomenon in your late 20s
what to do?
just stop it.
catch it when it's coming out.
it sounds like this at first
"i kno..."
followed by
"i kn..."
or something like that, you get the picture
eliminate it from your vocabulary
just some thoughts

The greatest block to learning new things
are the things we already know.

don’t go to bed...

2010-06-25T01:47:00.002-04:00

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Current mood: ashamed
Category: Life

with unresolved anger
and relationship frustrations
and listen to the little voice
that says
"this is NOT a good idea"
because it will save a lot
of unnecessary heart ache
down the road

ummm

2010-06-25T01:41:00.003-04:00

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

laughing geckos
speak in the silence of the night
calling from room to room in this darkened house

air moves slowly
with just a hint of a breeze
that does little to cool the overheated skin
which has begun to peel from it's first sunburn
of this year

ants march in file
all around the house
as they scale all obstacles
in search of their prey

the night is calm
for the moment
the dogs are quiet
and all the cats are resting

but my mind cannot rest.
its unending questioning
accomplishes naught except for sleeplessness
but no answer presents itself
no solution appears

what is my problem?
maybe i should ask that first
so that i recognize the response when it is uttered

there is a plane leaving this island
thursdaay afternoon
the question--simply put--
is will i be on it?

Uncertainty

2010-06-25T01:38:00.001-04:00

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

yes i want some validation.
someone to tell me that i am making the right choice.
expectations surround me stealthily,
infiltrating my camp like a bunch of damn ninja.
can i stay here and make a difference?
of course. the question is more like
where can't i make difference.
how do i help-
how do i teach-
making a difference is all i ever wanted.
but my dream is so much bigger than one person at a time,
one person CAN make a difference
i know that;
and yet, i am so unsure and
uncertain
that my next step might send me plummeting
to an early end.
how did i get to this point again?
asking-what do i want to do with my life
for the seventeenth million time
how can some people know?
do you know?
what you want to do with your life.
are you certain?

A Mixed-Breed Apple

2010-06-25T01:35:00.002-04:00

Monday, April 14, 2008

a poem by Rumi
Current mood: enthralled

A little mixed-breed apple,
half red, half yellow,
tells this story.

A lover and beloved get seperated.
Their being apart was one thing,
but they have opposite responses.

The lover feels pain and grows pale.
The beloved flushes and feels proud.

I am a thorn next to my master's rose.
We seem to be two, but we are not.

i do

2010-06-25T01:31:00.002-04:00

Monday, October 29, 2007

all of my being is made up of my life
my experiences
things learned through my own actions
and more recently, things learned from others
and my experience gives me a small bit of insight
a little understanding
into the thoughts and actions of you
but only if I have been through the same struggle
of course
although our individual experiences can differ
our lives ARE the same struggle
as we search for meaning
for happiness
and especially for love
sometimes I think that I know exactly where you are
but I am NOT you
and I cannot read minds
and my main responsibility
first and foremost

is to take care of myself
so that I can be of use to you
and others

because there was a time when I was useless
and I don't ever want to go back to that

Hamstring Blog

2010-06-25T01:29:00.000-04:00

Monday, October 29, 2007

hamstring

I had forgotten what it feels like when your insides explode with an unbelievable pain
with a sharp, wrenching of muscle and sinew that blots out all your senses
so that nothing matters except that feeling, at that moment
i was reminded of this yesterday, when
despite my best attempts to remain limber
I stepped onto the pitch
and felt my entire thigh seize up when I took my first running step
and I faltered, but I knew that I could shake it off
and I tried to move quickly again
and I was shocked by my bodies refusal to do so
and I grimaced, and reached back and put my hand on my hamstring
and asked "why"
to no one in particular
but the third time that I tried to force my legs into a run made it clear
that no matter how much I wanted it
it was not going to happen my way at that moment

and how often is that the story of my life
no matter HOW bad I try to force things to go along with my wishes
there are times when that is
just
not
possible
it was a brutal reminder of an unbelievable pain that I have felt before
it's good to never forget my pains

lest i forget their lessons

Comment from a friend:
also, it means you're getting older and starting to fall apart ;)

Not new, but...

2010-06-25T01:26:00.002-04:00

I am closing an old account, and wanted to preserve the writing I did there.

So I am posting it here...

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

you’re not given to much introspection...are you?

i haven't gotten an answer from you
lately
emotions well up at the base of my throat
totally
blocking my breath and stopping my words
completely
letting go and giving up and surrendering
unconditionally
although the fight has gone on so long i can't remember when i wasn't fighting these feelings and this hurt that i have created for myself out of imagined shadows of words and gestures
from the past
from someone else's mind
unbelievably
you told me yourself
it's over

New

2009-12-09T00:56:00.003-05:00

My grandmother has Alzheimer's,
and although we have been staying with her to try and help
that isn't what she wants

My wife's aunt has cancer
and it is killing her
but she is such a strong woman
and has fought it so hard

my brother is moving somewhere
he and his wife will be much closer to us

my friend is returning from overseas
and she can have her baby blankets back
plus i really want to see her
and hug her
and hear her crazy stories
about life in Germany

it is christmas time
so for those of you who celebrate it
do more giving
and for those of you who don't celebrate it
do more giving

when you see

2009-09-21T22:51:00.003-04:00

often there is nothing to say
to address the past
to acknowledge the events
and accept responsibility
without aggravating and inflaming

polite chit chat seems
to be a human way of handling these situations
asking questions about others
indirectly seeking some neutral topics
that allow a dialogue to begin
and peace to be offered

maybe it isn't so complex
and the polite appearance is an instinct
born of preservation and protection
because who wants to be vulnerable
neither do I

all of our lives are characterised by
crisis and victory-
the ups and downs-we call them
admitting that I was present and a creator
of both the good and the bad
in my life
and the lives that I touched
is a beginning

and maybe when I say it
the dialogue will continue

A little late!

2009-08-29T20:49:00.003-04:00

I haven't been doing much blogging, and so this announcement is noticeably late...

My little brother is getting married!

I am so excited for him, and can't wait to meet my new sister Adalia when Ash and I get back to the states!

And just think, if it wasn't for me, none of this would be possible.
How, you ask?
Well, Ryan is only alive because of me.
No, not due to some heroics or intervention that saved his life...
No I mean he is only alive because as his older brother
I let him live.
Seriously.
C'mon if you have a little bother...I mean brother, you know what I mean.
Really.
I think i should be getting some nods here folks.
Let's hear it for the restraint of the older siblings.

Love you Ry.

Persecution

2009-07-18T19:06:00.000-04:00

A song and a video for you

Go America

2009-04-26T07:44:00.002-04:00

Latin America that is.

Some of these points sound a little familiar...

I think there is a religion that I know of that agrees with many of these ideas.

Funky Jewelery

2009-04-12T05:23:00.001-04:00

Ladies...

Check out this site for some truly awesome stuff by my girl Jess.

Earth Hour 2009

2009-03-26T03:06:00.002-04:00

Go here
Make a commitment...
Make a difference.

Air Mail

2009-03-19T05:12:00.003-04:00

PO Box 106125
Auckland City Postshop
Auckland, New Zealand
1143

Please try to refrain from mailing me your dirty socks

hi there

2009-01-17T23:34:00.001-05:00

In the past year I have visited a few different cultures, and repeatedly seen how little I really know about what is “right”. It has been a time of growth and change, totally eclipsing the period prior to it in realizations and wisdom. And still I wonder, will learning continue like this? Does what I know now always increase what I learn next? Will today’s beliefs and ideas simply serve as the stepping stones to the next truth I am to discover?

Over and over I read of a repeating idea…that I-that all of us, all of mankind-already possess the answers and the truths inside of us. That we ask questions and search for knowledge-but that the external sources we find are simply reflections of what we carried with us all along. Bill Wilson and friends wrote that “…deep down in every man, woman, and child, is the fundamental idea of God. It may be obscured by calamity, by pomp, by worship of other things, but in some form or the other it is there. For faith in a power greater than ourselves, and miraculous demonstrations of that power in human lives, are facts as old as man himself.”

Over and over authors and scholars of our times have repeated this idea…even as I type this I feel a sense of deja-vu, as if I have written this same idea before, maybe even in this blog. Nevertheless, it is powerful and liberating. My current belief, for what it is worth…I don’t need any “new” books or teachings. I can go back through the ones I have read before and recognize truths that I couldn’t the last time I read them. I don’t need a new mentor, parent or counselor. The ones that I have already can teach me more if I change how I ask, and how I listen. I don’t need a new relationship, I simply need to recognize that God is inside of them as well as me.

Hadn’t written anything in quite a while, but if you are reading this than I love you-and the God within you too.

A New Kind of Life

2008-11-16T11:10:00.004-05:00

On November 8th, in a friend's backyard underneath gorgeous autumn trees that dropped their leaves on us, Ashley Horn and I were married. We had a small ceremony and our closest family and friends, although Ashley's brother Shaun & his wife and children couldn't be there...

I feel like I am having a gradual change in my thinking, rather than an immediate switch to thinking like a married man. I had no idea what it was going to feel like and how I would view it....

I love you Ashley.

The Sur-Real Life

2008-11-01T13:55:00.000-04:00

Surreal...overused and misunderstood--at least by me.
I won't get into my issues with this word as a descriptive tool...

Yesterday played out in an almost theater-like way...as the morning began with the graveside service for a woman who a month-and-a-half ago I wouldn't have described as extremely close, but who I would today describe as the most inspiring teacher I have ever had--like a second mother even. Although we have had quite a bit of interaction over the past six weeks, I think that maybe my perspective is what underwent the most radical change, as opposed to any effort on her part to shift our relationship. I stood with her family and friends as we celebrated the beginning of her soul's journey into the next world of God.

Less than an hour after her body was lowered into the ground and covered with earth, I was at my mother's house for a party to celebrate my upcoming marriage. Many of the same people came to both events...

Journeys 2 Gether

2008-10-31T19:20:00.002-04:00

Many thanks to my wonderful friend, Justin Nevill, for creating this website...

to check it out-to see what we are up to-go to

this website!

Love Rio

Exultation

2008-10-31T09:14:00.002-04:00

Many of the world religions teach us that the passing of the soul from the body to the next world is not cause for despair and sadness, but for happiness and rejoicing. As a dear friend put it to me...our inability to comprehend this truth is reflective of the duality of the human existence, the balance that we are all striving for. It also is in keeping with the crumbling of the old world order and the synchronous rising of the new-as more and more our spiritual sides mature and become aware that our physical bodies and our mortal existence is not the pinnacle of our being that our materialistic society portrays it to be.

I have been given a gift too precious to fully describe. I have seen a friend's battle to remain focused on the ultimate objective of God's will as the crude housing that we call our body failed. I have watched living become difficult, the most taken for granted, simple tasks become arduous labors, resulting in exhaustion and nausea. Sat alongside a bed while pain and agony repeatedly beat away at the mental reserves and willpower to die gracefully.

But most of all, I watched the trembling hands, and wandering mind return to the prayers; the mouth-sometimes silently and through dry, parched lips-repeatedly offer forth the exhortation "Ya Baha El-Abha!" I have listened to the holy words of God uttered with a waning voice, but a spirit that was desperately trying to burst freee from its earthly confines and shout its praises aloud so that all could hear the beauty!

I don't know how this works either, but I know that she will always be watching and assisting us. Thank you for giving me this wonderful part of life, and thank you for all the secrets you have given me-and most importantly for the assurance that our souls do not rely on our bodies to sing their song to the heavens.

Please say a prayer-any kind that you can-for a dear friend and sister who has been freed from this plane of existence and is now moving onward in her journey.

Destination...?

2008-10-22T00:29:00.005-04:00

New Zealand is looking like the clear choice for settling down right now...Ashley and I are both really excited about it. I don't think I have met a single person who had bad things to say about the country...
Hopefully we will have some letters of introduction to the Baha'i's over there...and if anyone knows anybody who would be willing to show us their neck of the woods we would love to have contact information...
send it to riosawhill@gmail.com

time vs. money

2008-10-08T13:02:00.002-04:00

I have seen this face-off before
I have seen the pendulum swing one way
one day,
then the other the next.
Restraint and sacrifice, teetering between necessity
of materials,
and the necessity
of precious moments.
Sometimes we cram greatly to one extreme,
at the expense of the other
and sometimes we walk the balance beam between.
How much money will I need
to make my memories of this time pleasant?
Can I ever get enough to outweigh the loss
of seeing a child's beautiful child-smile?
When I look back on our last conversations,
will I regret that I cut them short to go to "work"?
How long does it take to realize
that you can't take it with you?
and yet...
I cannot stop thinking of money...

Having Left This World...

2008-09-08T08:19:00.003-04:00

Baha'i Prayer for the Dead
(If it is for a man, then substitute son, him and his when saying it)

"O my God! This is Thy servant, and the daughter of Thy servant who hath believed in Thee and in Thy signs, and set her face towards Thee, wholly detached from all else except Thee. Thou art, verily, of those who show mercy the most merciful.
Deal with her, O Thou Who forgivest the sins of men and concealeth their faults, as beseemeth the heaven of Thy bounty and the ocean of Thy grace. Grant her admission within the precincts of Thy transcendent mercy that was before the foundation of earth and heaven. There is no God but Thee, the Ever-Forgiving, the Most Generous.

Then repeat six times the greeting 'Allah-u-Abha',
and then repeat nineteen times each of the following verses.
We all, verily, worship God.

We all, verily, bow down before God.

We all, verily, are devoted unto God.

We all, verily, give praise unto God.

We all, verily, yield thanks unto God.

We all, verily, are patient in God.

endings

2008-09-08T08:05:00.003-04:00

two more endings
one drawn out too long
another cut much too short
added to the earlier story
of an expected passing
that was surprisingly unexpected
in threes he comes
but it is simple statistics
the longer you live
the more lives you will bear witness to
as they come to a halt
and while some are planning weddings
and some are birthing children
others spend their time mourning
and wiping tears from their cheeks
as they try to find ways to say goodbye
to someone that has already gone
a small comfort it can sometimes be
when my soul swells with remembrance
and I realize that they are not gone forever
but living on in every one I see

Literary Privacy

2008-09-05T04:24:00.002-04:00

I was reading a book by Chuck Klosterman. Chuck is quite a thinker...as much as any of us. I could relater to Chuck because the majority of the thoughts that he wrote about revolved around the way he perceived everyone else perceiving him. Perfect.
Perfectly selfish and egotistical. If I had the same experiences as Chuck, I could have wrote that book.

In his book her does a lot of writing about his relationships with women. It struck me, that I too could do the same thing, although I haven't yet. Its not that I would have a lot of women to write about, its that I could spend pages dissecting what I think that they were thinking in any given situation. Some of my worst moments in the past few years have been when I actually vocalized these dissections to the women in my life. I have definitely learned that a little censorship of my internal voices is a good thing. But...

Once a little time has passed...can I share my thoughts then? What if I change names? Situations? Who will know? What about my future wife? Can I write about her? Us? When will it be okay? Chuck didn't necessarily wait--he just wrote about what he was feeling...it doesn't always have to be damaging. But the one thing he noted that makes me cringe, both because I know it to be my own tendency as well as knowing how much it angers me when I experience it...

Is the fact that often time the things that I can make into cohesive thoughts on paper-with my words-are things I don't know how to say out loud.

desperation

2008-09-02T06:21:00.003-04:00

I have a housemate...
which is actually quite nice...
it is a completely different situation than the last time I had one.
and I really enjoy sitting around and talking with her.
and this morning
she asked me if I was okay a few times before she left the house.
I couldn't figure out why at first
She even checked up on me later via email
with a funny telegram style message-stop-
that personified her sarcastic, humorous nature
and betrayed the deep caring that she hides underneath it

what am i talking about???

she was right to worry-
I feel a little shell-shocked
and I can only imagine what it feels like right now
to be the person who I am worried about
as he goes through his own range of emotions
and grief
and loss
but I, and everyone else in his life,
although I shouldn't speak for them-
I don't care-I will anyhow.
you see, we all love him so much,
and we want to be there for him,
and we want to share our love with him,
and we want to see him happy
and free
and I really find it hard
to watch him try to get there by himself
but it reminds me of rock climbing
when you are the belay
you can often see the path the climber needs to take
the next hold...
but when you are pressed against the rock face
and your fingers are slipping
and your toes are cramping
and you can't see the next crevice,
Where do you get the courage to just reach out?

Mawwiage...

2008-08-20T12:42:00.002-04:00

I am getting married to Ashley...a beautiful woman whom I have known for over five years now. There is a lot I could say about the path that has brought us to where we are...but all I am going to tell you is that I can't wait to see her in November. And hopefully we will get to see some of YOU too.

Four-Way Stop

2008-08-15T07:18:00.002-04:00

Leaving the west side of Saipan and heading away from San Jose, past Chalan Kiya and up the hill towards the Northern Marianas College, it always seems to start raining. It seems as if it could be sunny and hot everywhere else that I go on the island, but as soon as I head inland I get rained on. It isn't quite so much of a problem since I turned in my scooter for a 96 Nissan Sentra. It just barely creeps up the hill at a maximum speed of 20 mph...but that's a whole 'nother post!

Once I crest the hill, the road levels out and signs seem to indicate that you are in the village of DanDan. I get a little confused about this, as it seems a good ways away from the actual homes that make up the neighborhoods of DanDan. Some friends happened to be sitting next to me and they straightened me out. Lower DanDan comes first and then up the hill you skirt San Vicente and come into Upper DanDan.

The point of all this, is that as you hang a right at the complicated intersection right after the fish market that takes you into either San Vicente or DanDan, you come to a crossroads. When you are heading into this crossroads from the south and the west, you have no stop sign, and consequently do not have to stop. (Just to clarify-Stop signs don't really make people stop here).

But if you are approaching the intersection from the back island route, to the north, or from the east coast of San Vicente, you are faced with stop signs. Now, if you still don't see the problem here, it's okay, it isn't exactly readily apparent when you describe it. And for the locals who read this, I am really not complaining. I love this intersection. But it is fundamentally representative of the danger, confusion, half-assing it and just general waste of time, materials and energy that seems to be rampant on Saipan right now.

Still don't get it? Draw a picture. Crossroads. Two way top, but the stop signs are adjacent to each other, rather than opposite. Wouldn't it be better to just do away with one of the signs? Did there used to be more? Am I just a dumb haole who doesn't know what he's talking about? Maybe. Just proceed through the intersection with caution...

brilliant ideas

2008-08-06T21:30:00.002-04:00

I have them on a regular basis.
I do not remember them on a regular basis.
Enough about me...
I picked up a book titled 'A Moment on Earth"
from the end table of a house I am "sitting" at.
The book is a DVDBook about an idea a guy had
to synchronously film multiple places on the Earth.
Wonderful idea. It worked out.
Neat movie.
Check out the website for a little bit of a teaser.

A page from another's blog...

2008-08-06T09:01:00.002-04:00

I have this friend, her name is Martha..and she apparently has a blog, a fact which I was not aware of until very recently. Ours is one of the longest surviving friendships of my life, since we met almost 20 years ago.

Although we were out of touch for quite some time, when we finally began talking again, I was amazed by her travel stories and the richness of her life. While I had been stagnating away in the same town for years, she had left our home state and seen some of the world, all the while-in my mind at least-holding on to the Baha'i ideals that we had been raised with.

She inspired me. She confirmed for me yet again that it was possible to try to live up to the demanding moral standards that we were taught as children. I rebelled against it. Maybe she did too, a little. But she kept the nose of her ship pointed in the right direction, while I left the monkey in charge of my ship and went below to have some rum with the wenches.

She knows (now!) how amazing I think she is. And this article on the persecution of Iranian Baha'is came from her blog. If you want to read some of her other stuff, beware...she is a damn smart girl...and an okay swimmer too!

Update

2008-08-04T09:08:00.003-04:00

I have recently:

got this and other awe-some pics from WA
bought a slightly-used "new" car for $1300
worried about money
spent a few days house-sitting in a nice house with a gorgeous view of the bay
spent a couple hours soaking at Mandi Spa (mmmmmmm!)
tutored six Korean children and two adults
played in a soccer tournament hosted by the Saipan Korean Football League
given some serious thought as to where & how I want to spend the next year of my life
almost sold my house in Charlotte, NC but not quite
experienced my first serious case of writers block on a project with a deadline
really missed my dog
not stretched enough and experienced some serious pain as a result
worried about money some more
read Martha's blog and put off creating yet another email account so that I could tell her that I think she is an amazing woman and that we all have neuroses
prayed for assistance
meditated
reikied
still haven't massaged anyone
missed my dog who isn't mine anymore
missed my brother who (even though he's adopted) still is mine
wanted to tell my family and friends that
I love them ALL.

Love My Dogs...

2008-08-01T07:49:00.004-04:00

It is wonderful to be able to get chances to do things that would be way out of my league in the states. Like writing an article for a magazine. Just sort of fell into my lap. I was honored to be asked to do it. I hope I get another chance. Check it out at the Island Locator Magazine blog and tell me what you think. My article was part two to one that I read the first month I was on island. I am supposed to be writing part three right this minute. Instead I am posting this blog. I hope Katie doesn't see this...it's coming right away I promise!

Who cares what a kid thinks?

2008-07-30T07:32:00.002-04:00

I have been blessed enough to just sort of fall into a tutoring position as the result of someone whom I met here leaving the island. Initially it was only seven hours a week, but then some more students were introduced and I now am pretty busy tutoring from 10:30 am until 5:30 pm five days a week, plus a few hours on Saturday. It is amazing and humbling and tiring and exciting to see people so excited about learning.

One of my students is a boy named Chris. He is fourteen in Korea, where they began a person's age at conception. Which by the way I think makes a great deal of sense-think about it. But he would only be twelve in America. He is the most advanced out of his family, who have all come to Saipan for a month of intensive English tutoring. He is very talkative and I really like him.

This afternoon we were talking about different types of food and as I pointed at a picture of a supermarket meat case I jokingly asked him if it was American Beef. To explain the joke, he, his mother and his aunt have all informed me that people in Korean don't like American beef. Ya' know, that whole mad-cow disease thing kinda soured them on it. So anyways, I said this jokingly-and the joke was in the inflection of my voice, which is not something that most foreigners can pick up on-and Chris' eyes got really big. His answer came in the excited, elevating voice that is his normal volume of communication with me. (I am going to paraphrase his answer and our dialog in general-doing my best to leave the point that struck me intact.)

"No, no American beef. Is Korean beef. No buy American beef. American cows are crazy," was Chris' response.

"Not anymore," I tried to defend my countries meat practices. "They say that the beef is okay and there is no more mad-cow disease."

His eyes got big again and he responded with words that would have made many people nod in agreement. "We don't believe your president when he says mad-cow disease is no more. Why we believe your president? George Bush is a liar. He attack Iraq and say maaaanny nuclear weapons and so attack Iraq and fight and no nuclear weapons. And he say bin Laden and..." Here he paused and asked me if he was saying bin Laden right-he wasn't, because he pronounces the letters R and L incorrectly unless he makes a great effort to inflect them properly-and what his whole name was. I told him, and he continued.

"Yes Osama bin Laden and he say find him and kill him. And no kill bin Laden. And he really attack Iraq for oil."-(it sounded more like oir)-And he said it questioningly and so we repeated the word 'oil' quite a few times. And then he finished up with "Your president is a bad man attack Iraq for oil and a liar."

A twelve year old. From a country on the other side of the planet. Of course he has heard and absorbed this from others. From his parents, his teachers, relatives and the news. Maybe there is a left-wing liberal party running around trying to convince non-voting, non-citizens of our country and its leaders incompetence. That seems likely. I don't really believe that there is a global conspiracy to make George W. Bush seem like a liar and an imbecile. I realize that this wasn't exactly a scientific poll, that one young Korean boy is not representative of the entire world and its views...but still.

As I sat there and listened to him I could hear the emotion in his voice, the feeling behind his words-and none of this is really that "close to home" for him. It became incredibly clear to me in a moment how young boys are willing to die because of opinions like this. His opinion may not mean much right now. I wonder how many more children there are like him around the world, wondering at American incompetence and ignorance. At our ability to demand righteousness and good behavior from others and our seeming inability to present it in ourselves. Maybe Chris becomes a politician in Korea someday...who knows. Whatever, he's just a kid right?

Brian Regan

2008-07-28T13:00:00.002-04:00

Someone else has always said it funnier...
I plan to use this for my tutoring sessions this week...

japan

2008-07-28T12:55:00.002-04:00

an email to my father dated April 5th, 2008,
he asked me to 'describe' where i was...

fish
cherry blossoms--white and pink
petals falling down on you like snow
bamboo forests
wind whistling through them
stone cairns
in graveyards from at least a thousand years ago
sounds of trains
beautiful roofs
and houses stacked on top of each other up the mountainside
always rice cooking
and the smell that a city makes when throngs of people stomp around it all day long
oh yeah
apparently japanese as a culture don't wear deoderant
not that bad yet
as the temp is still mild
but i can't even buy any there
maybe in the other places
may need a care package
or maybe its one less amenity to worry about
toliet seats are almost always heated
mmmm

No Vegetarians Allowed

2008-07-25T08:34:00.004-04:00

It began with pork ribs
and about twenty hot dogs
out came the containers of steamed rice
green salad-with apple slices in it-
of course the kimchi.
by the time my plate was full
chicken wings were ready
with some spicy chili sauce to flavor them
followed shortly by beef sliced
the way that I have only seen Koreans do it
some T-bone steaks to add to the mix
and large shrimp followed that
I ended it all up with a tin-foil wrapped potato
a plate full of sliced mangoes that weren't totally thawed
and marshmallows to roast over the dying charcoals of the grill
as children shout at each other in Korean
and I turn down a cold Bud Light...
I realize just how well these folks would fit in
at a BBQ in North Carolina
or anywhere else in the U.S.
if only people weren't so blind to our inherent oneness.

busy

2008-07-23T10:08:00.003-04:00

I am busy, busy tutoring students six days a week, for many hours each day.
The owners of the house I have been staying in get home in less than a week.
I need to find a car to purchase.
I feel like every muscle in my body is contracting bit-by-bit each day.
I am listening to My Heart Will Go On...
ok not any more, whew.
I am sad because I really like Saipan but I am trying to make plans for the next year of my life...
and building anything upon the shifting foundation that is this island seems...
well,
either blissfully idiotic
or just foolish.
I don't know
Nor does anyone else
I wish the light at the end of the tunnel was visible...

Tank Beach

2008-07-22T07:17:00.003-04:00

This past Saturday, I went out to see Tank Beach for my first time since I have been on the island. I went along with Denise, who teaches children's classes on Saturday mornings to a group of kids in Kagman.

At about 9:00 am we had seven kids and the two of us, and we partnered the kids off and gave each set of 'buddies' a bag. I had another bag for Denise and I but didn't bring any extras. We figured we would spend about an hour out there and then head back to the house, only a short five minute walk away from the beach.

We got down to Tank Beach. It looked like a boat carrying plastic containers had dumped its load into the ocean of our coast. The tide line contained as much minuscule broken plastic pieces as it did shells and coral. I was stunned by the amount of plastic out there; from bottles to pieces of crates, from wheels to what can only be described as 'chunks' of plastic. There was some trash that I would describe as "locally grown", styrofoam plates and cups, drink boxes and beer cans, but this was much more the exception than the rule. The one thing that I was really disturbed by was the plastic six-pack rings. Really?!?! Maybe that was in the trash from the sunk plastic boat too...but for pete's sake!!! People! Cut the six-pack rings up so that fish and wildlife don't get stuck in them! It even gives you an excuse to whip out your knives while drinking-which always can make for a good story that the whole family will remember for years to come!

We filled up five trash bags in about fifteen minutes. The kids spent a lot of time examining stuff, we could've done it in about five minutes. We barely made a dent in it. I hope we can get back out there soon, even though that was the culmination of our children's class lesson on service. I feel like we barley scratched the surface. These children didn't seem to know that plastic NEVER will degrade. They didn't know about the danger of six-pack rings, or that many of the bottles we found are recyclable. Maybe a lot of other people don't either.

There's much that can be said about the need for reducing our waste, re-using what we can, and recycling what we are able to. Plastic NEVER goes away!! It isn't out of sight, out of mind anymore either. Just read this article to discover where your plastic has been going...

The Little Boy and the Starfish

2008-07-21T20:22:00.000-04:00

One fine warm day, an old man was walking down a sandy, tropical beach. He noticed as he was walking that the tide had brought in a lot of starfish. He started looking at the starfish and admiring their pretty colors as he walked.

He noticed a little boy in the distance was walking towards him, but at a very slow pace.

The reason for the slow pace of the little boy became apparent the closer the old man came. The little boy was also looking at the starfish, but he was doing more. He was picking up those he found and throwing them back out to sea.

"Why are you throwing the starfish back into the sea?" asked the old man. "Starfish die if they're out of their sea water for too long." replied the little boy.

Ever the practical man, he said, "It's a good thing to do, but do you know how many starfish there must be washed up on this beach every day? You can't possibly make a dent in that. What difference can you make in an effort to save starfish?"

The little boy bent down, picked up another starfish, threw it out into the sea, turned towards the old man, and said, "It made a difference to that one."

I challenge you to find a way to make a difference.

Honesty is in our Eyes

2008-07-21T19:41:00.002-04:00

I was reading an e-mail from someone who I considered a close friend, someone whom I shared a time in my life with, who I haven't really connected with since last fall. At least I didn't think we had, but I heard rumors of things being said by them that suggested otherwise. The things I heard were only told to me because I asked about them specifically, and they didn't really affect me-but they affected someone else who was close to me. And so I decided to be upset about them. And I have been upset; I have been holding on to a resentment about these words that I didn't hear, that weren't said to me, or anywhere near me, for almost three months now.

I was considering a response to the e-mail I just got, which I believed to be extremely deceitful and insincere. I cannot claim to always being an honest man. I have told my share of lies in my life, and I doubt that I am finished with dishonesty. But I have recently been shocked by the ability to just stare into another's eyes and pretend as if there is nothing to be truthful about. That there aren't things that need to be said, explained, accounted for. I have felt my heart literally break as I stared deep into eyes, waiting for something to be said...and all I got was intense fear. And again, I felt a pain when someone pretended not to notice me, then acted surprised when they saw me. Yet it was a fraudulent act, so clearly dishonest that its a wonder we even kept up the charade of friendliness. This time at least, there was talk...but it was a thin glaze over the words that had been said, and I couldn't help bristle with resentment for the lack of confession and apology I felt was deserved.

And so I was going to write all this to my one-time friend, and as I thought about it I was bowled over by the duplicity of the situation. For while one person was looking me in the eyes and leaving it all unsaid, I was doing the exact same thing to another. Of course, I felt my deception was right. I thought my lie was justified. I wanted to say something, really I did. But I just couldn't bring myself to admit the truth. Face-to-face, I shied away from the truth, and I missed a valuable chance to be a better person. I did exactly that which I was despising.

And while my friend clearly felt uncomfortable around me, and didn't attempt to stay near me, I covered my dishonesty so well that I continued to stay near another, even as I kept up my treachery.

So I cannot reprimand another, for over and over again I find, that I, somewhere-somehow, have been guilty of the same transgression, whether in a lesser or greater degree. And it all makes me wonder...where my eyes as filled with fear as yours were?

2008-07-20T09:24:00.002-04:00

My piriformis is sore. Now, since my spell-checker doesn't know what a piriformis is, maybe you don't either. It is a muscle that has it's attachments on the sacrum and the grater trochanter of the femur, and its main action is lateral rotation at the hip joint...or you could say it's a muscle in your butt that turns your leg.

That's it. Hope you weren't looking for a whole lot more.

Oh, and I am absolutely ecstatic right now! I just can't tell you why!

rainy night

2008-07-16T19:24:00.005-04:00

I recently went somewhere special
with someone special
and while we were there I found something special
and i just wanted to share some of it with you
these are just the ones that really spoke to me...

My home is the home of peace.
My home is the home of joy and delight.
My home is the home of laughter and exaltation.
Whoever enters through the portals of this home,
must go out with gladsome heart.
This is the home of light;
whoever enters here must become illumined.

The mother is the first teacher of the child. For children,
at the beginning of life, are fresh and tender as a young twig,
and can be trained in any fashion you desire.
If you rear your child to be straight, he will grow straight,
in perfect symmetry. It is clear that the mother is the first
teacher and that is she who establisheth the character and
conduct of the child.

O ye loving mothers, know ye that in God's sight,
the best of all ways to worship Him is to educate the children
and train them in all the perfections of humankind;
and no nobler deed than this can be imagined.

If love and agreement are manifest in a single family,
that family will advance, become illumined and spiritual;
but if enmity and hatred exist within it,
destruction and dispersion are inevitable.

And above all other unions is that between human beings,
especially when it cometh to pass in the love of God.
Thus is the primal oneness made to appear;
thus is laid the foundation of love in the spirit.

I have the different source information if you are interested.
Please forgive me for my earlier ranting...I didn't mean YOU.

True Story?

2008-07-16T08:16:00.001-04:00

The following scene took place on a BA flight between Johannesburg and London . This is a true story.

A White woman, about 50 years old, was seated next to a Black man. Obviously disturbed by this, she called the air Hostess. "Madam, what is the matter," the Hostess asked. "You obviously do not see it then?" she responded. "You placed me next to a Black man. I do not agree to sit next to someone from such a repugnant group. Give me an alternative seat." "Be calm please, the Hostess replied. "Almost all the seats on this flight are taken. I will go to see if another seat is available." The Hostess went away and came back a few minutes later. "Madam, just as I thought, there are no other available seats in Economy class. I spoke to the Captain and he informed me that there are also no seats in the Business class. All the same, we still have one seat in First class." Before the woman could reply, the Hostess continued: "It is unusual for our company to permit someone from Economy class to sit in First class. However, given the circumstances, the Captain feels that it would be scandalous to make someone sit next to someone so disgusting." She turned to the Black man and said, "Therefore, Sir, if you would like to, please collect your hand luggage, a seat awaits you in First class." At that moment, the other passengers who were shocked by what they had just witnessed stood up and applauded.

sometimes

2008-07-15T23:27:00.003-04:00

I just feel like saying forget it.
Who am I?
Why in the world do I owe you anything?
Did I promise you something?
Because I don't remember that...
We are all giving to each other all the time...
and sometimes I am so damn sick of you expecting another gift
Yeah, it's too much to ask
No, I can't spend all my time with you
Not even a little bit
It is time to make some choices in my life
So sorry for wanting to be happy
I hate that you are inconvenienced by my happiness
Really
It's tearing me up
The messed up part is--
It does tear me up
I hate this feeling
I am not responsible for you and your
sickness
I just want the clarity I felt once before
to be present on a regular basis
why can't you just be happy?
why in the world do you insist that i be a part of it?
i can't do that for anyone else
God knows I've tried

leaving....

2008-07-15T19:43:00.003-04:00

"...on a jet plane,
don't know when I'll be back again."

I heard those lyrics over and over in my head during the past two weeks. Late in the evening on July 3rd, I became convinced that I needed to make a trip back to Charlotte. The party that I had helped organize the year before was going to happen and I was going to miss it. I tried to discard my yearnings as ego-mania, believing that there was no rational reasoning behind such an impromptu-an expensive-trip to my hometown.

So I resorted to meditation to clear the nonsense from my brain. Only it didn't, clear, it crystallized into a list of things that I had left undone, or that I needed to do. Still suspecting some sort of acute mental dysfunction, I sat down to make a list of the pros and cons of such a trip. The majority of the cons centered around money-and I have been making efforts in my life to not live based upon a fear of not having enough of it. As long as I was honest and truthful, I didn't feel as if I was going to do any other sort of damage on my trip.

I bought my ticket at 1:30 am on the fourth of July, hopped in the shower, threw some stuff in a bag, gave the house a thorough water-proofing, left the landlord a note, and headed to the airport to catch my four a.m. flight to Guam. It's a short half-hour flight, on a wonderful twin propeller aircraft. I am used to it now, but the first time on it was a little unnerving. After an hour in Guam, we left around 6:30 a.m., headed towards Hawaii. The flight landed in Honolulu around five o'clock in the afternoon on July third, seven hours after leaving Guam. Weird! I always wanted to be a time traveler! From there, we flew to Houston, and since we arrived a little behind schedule, I barely made it to my next flight. Houston is an enormous airport, and I hope all the others who were with me made their respective flights as well. We touched down in Charlotte at noon on the fourth of July, almost exactly twenty-four hours after I had left the house in Saipan to go to the airport.

That was just the beginning...I made three more trips to the airport over the next 10 days, for a total of over 32 hours. I also rented a car in Texas and drove for over four hours one way to visit some family. And now I am contemplating my next trip... although I don't have a definite date yet, it is going to be soon!

Special thanks to a wonderful woman here on Saipan who saved my ass by cleaning up the mess I left here as I rushed away to North Carolina...I owe her big time! I would also like to apologize to anyone who I didn't get to see, or didn't spend much time with...I love you and wish there had been more time!

Power woes in the CNMI

2008-07-02T09:14:00.002-04:00

Saipan's rapidly deteriorating power situation is a constant frustration for almost everyone on the island. I read an excellent blog that asks some point-on questions of the Commonwealth Utilities Corporation(?) and the government...

Go check it out.

Marianas Pride

meditation made simpler

2008-07-02T08:12:00.003-04:00

When I met Mark, whose house I am in right now, I was laying on the sand at Micro Beach, trying to decide if I was going to stay in Saipan and fly back to Tokyo and then on to my next new country. He was kite boarding, and he had gotten blown a little too far downwind. We talked just a little bit that day, but he gave me his number and told me to call if I stayed. I did stay. I didn't call. But it isn't a very large island, and it wasn't long before I ran into him again.

I feel a lot of things about him. Not going to go into that now. Before he and his family left, he had been raving about a new approach to meditation that he had been trying. He brought it up again, and the night before he left he gave me the first two tracks of the Holosync program from the Centerpointe Institute. I know now why he was so excited to share it with someone. I feel the same way right now. So I am going to attempt to share a little of Holosync (which is a copyrighted name) with you.

Real quick-your brain activity can be measured in waves. Beta waves are what most of us are in during our awake, active state of being. Slightly slower are alpha waves, which usually come at the period between waking and sleep. They have been associated with focus, "superlearning" and meditation. Theta waves are present during the dream phase of your sleep, and also increased creativity, extremely deep meditation and some kinds of learning. The deepest waves are Delta, the deep sleep where the body seems to produce healing hormones as well as many other autonomic nervous system functions.

Meditation is hard work. The idea is simple. Sit calmly. Focus on one thing. Think of nothing else. The actual doing usually requires years of practice to achieve this seemingly simple task. Lots of benefits though...increased calmness, inner peace, ease in dealing with stress, detachment and love for all creatures, etc...Long-time meditators achieve theta and even possibly delta waves during meditation, and some times even out of it.

Holosync uses binaural beats to cause the brain to tone itself to the waves of deeper concentration. Studies since the 60's have shown that people exposed to this type of audio stimulus can learn better and faster, retain more; alcoholics sober up and stay that way, developing needed skills better; stressful situations are handled easier; creativity is increased; the studies go on and on. Using this type of technology, the brain creates these waves, and a natural process that can be a result of meditation is sped up. But not only is it quicker, and easier, since you don't have to be a master at calming your mind to reap the benefits, the creators says that it eventually takes you deeper than meditation has ever been shown to take you, allowing you access to the Delta waves in a way not possible on your own.

There is a lot going on in my life. I have been pushing myself, off and on again, for the past six years, to truly discover my beliefs and other filters that skew my version of reality and cause me so much suffering. I have come across some amazing tools along the way. I am not 100% sure about Holosync, but after reading the book, 'Thresholds of the Mind' by Bill Harris, I can recognize his approach and the fundamental truth of his years of experience with helping to change his own and others' lives.

There's a lot more that I could talk about. There are some of you who I want to give this gift too. Many of us could benefit from the book as well. Some will just get scanned pages that relate most directly to how we have related in the past. This little book has reminded me again of how wrong some of you have treated me. And how wrong I have treated myself and others. There are a lot of lessons, albeit repeat ones, in this book. It is a good read even if you aren't doing the Holosync program. There is one thing that Mr. Harris doesn't mention in his book that I feel is absolutely paramount to a complete shift, a complete psychic change. It is a firmly entrenched belief in my life now.

It is my responsibility to pass on all that I learn to others. If I am not helping another person, I find myself backsliding in my development. Books and meditation and theories on transformation are all great. But for me, I must give what I find away if I want to keep it.

Here is a link to the website: Centerpointe

extra, extra

2008-06-30T19:09:00.002-04:00

During Saturday's chaos of packing and getting to the airport, I got a phone call about an opportunity to be in a commercial. It would take all day Sunday, and maybe some of Monday, and was going to be filmed on the beach. My name had come up, invariably, when people were trying to think of Caucasian male who had nothing to do. Just for the record, I'd like to say that I have met other white males on this island who are bumming like me. But I'm not complaining. Other than a level 2 Reiki attunement I did a week ago, I haven't had any income since we won the 3-on-3 soccer tournament and I got 100 bucks. Not to say that there haven't been any chances for some work here or there, but I have been enjoying my lack of responsibility. But this commercial job sounded like the perfect way to do nothing while making money. And hang out on the beach!

I made it to the site about twenty minutes after eight, wearing a t-shirt and board shorts. Two Japanese staff members looked me over, and the produced a bag from the costume table and handed it to me, pointing me toward a nearby tent. I changed into a pair of khaki clamdigger-style shorts and a light blue button-up short sleeve shirt. Styling. They rushed me out to the beach where a group of about forty people in various bright clothes already stood. And so began the day.

They arranged us in loose rows, facing the camera. Then they began the process of "you here, you there" as they switched and arranged us in some order that I can only assume will look amazing in the finished product. They changed people's outfits, sometimes switching their clothes, sometimes producing a pair of scissors and exposing stomachs. They came by me and un-buttoned a couple buttons on my shirt. "More sexy now," said the Japanese man. I looked at the pretty Filipina girl next to me repeated the phrase questioningly. She looked at me for a second and then turned away, apparently not in agreement. The sun was already beating down and although I was right at the edge of the shade from a line of palm trees, many people were already sweating. After about 30 minutes of this, they marked our places and sent us back to the tents, where they had breakfast (Japanese style-thank you to Carmen for exposing me to this!) and cold sodas and Oolong tea in a can.

We sat for over an hour just talking amongst ourselves before they called us back out to the sandy beach. By now, it was almost 11 am, the sun was nearing the center of the sky and the breeze died the moment we all stepped foot out from the shade. We got to see the star actor finally. He was accompanied by an umbrella bearer, and makeup artists, as well as a guy with a little hand-held air-compressor that blew cold air. Maybe his face is well-known in Japan. He showed us to throw our arms in the air as we shouted out Japanese words and phrases. Then they brought us the cans.

The commercial is for a Japanese alcoholic beverage that comes in approximately 16 ounce cans. So here we all are sweating in the sun, and all of a sudden these guys rush out with platters full of fresh-from-the-ice-chest cans. They felt glorious! But no drinking! So for the next hour we held the cans and performed. They re-organized our groups, and shifted us around. Then they must have realized that a lot of us weren't even Japanese-I don't know if we were screwing up the words or what-but they removed all of us gaijin and sent us back to the tents. We didn't wait for the others to start eating the lunch that was provided.

After lunch it was back to the beach. More cans to hold, only now we had to pop open the cans and just hold them aloft! Soon people were pouring the cold liquid on their bodies. Some people were pouring the cold liquid in their mouths. Every time clouds obscured the sun we had to stop and wait. Sometimes we waited for the editing of a particular scene. I used to think that I sweat more than normal, but after looking around at some of the other guys, I realized that I'm pretty average in the amount of sweat produced category. We finished the commercial that afternoon. A bunch of the (white) folks managed to keep their (and others') cans and so headed out to their house to perform a taste test. They said it wasn't bad. I'll take there word for it. All in all, it was an easy days work. The agent just called me a minute ago. I'm headed over to pick up the cash. Look for me soon in the next Japanese beer commercial you ever see.

going back to the states

2008-06-29T10:43:00.004-04:00

When I first got to Saipan, it wasn't long before I heard of David, a licensed massage therapist who also lived here. His name was mentioned here and there as I met people and talked about my possibilities for practicing massage on the island. About a month ago, one of the Baha'is mentioned to me that their friend was leaving the island and had a massage table for sale. So he gave my number to David and we arranged a meeting. Neat how that worked out huh?

David runs on island time, or maybe it's "David time"-either way, it isn't that much different from my time and so it took us a couple tries to meet. I went to his house, and met his wife Teri, and their two year old son Kellan. I spent almost an hour there with them, as they shared their experiences of the last eight years with me. I didn't buy the table on-the-spot, but told David I'd call him about it.

I did buy the table from him, and we threw in all his sheets and a few bottles of oil to go along with it. He also offered to "transfer" several of his English tutorees to me. Sounded like a great idea to me, especially since I hadn't made any money since the 100 bucks I won in the soccer tournament. Now that I have the table I am starting to bring in a little bit of income, but tutoring takes a small amount of time and seems to be a good way to make some extra cash.

So on Thursday I met David at two of his student's apartment. I met Han and Joseph, sixteen and fourteen years old respectively, and their guardian Barbara. Koreans who all speak way better English than I do Korean-although I am having them teach me a little bit. I also bought a book called 'Making Out in Korean' which has lots of slang. So in effect, I'm not only trying to speak a language I don't know, but I'm trying to be "cool" to a couple of younger guys. This could be an international disaster of epic proportions. I get to see Han five days a week and Joseph twice.

The next day I went to David's to meet him and to be introduced to another one of his students. I proceeded him at the arranged time, and so when he and Teri arrived, I was suddenly aware of how little time they had before they left, and how much they still had to do. After a little shouting, David and I left and I followed him to the bakery where he met his next tutoree, an older-than-me Japanese woman named Sukiko. Unfortunately, he had neglected to tell her about his leaving. So our meeting consisted of a short explanation of his leaving, which involved a lot of Japanese, which David apparently understands and speaks a very little. Which is a very LOT more than I speak it. He left us to talk more, and she opened her English reader and we spent an hour speaking English. Sort of. I get to see her only once a week.

I spoke with David later and realized that it was physically impossible to get all of the stuff done that he needed to in the remaining twenty-four hours of his time on Saipan. Remembering how much assistance I had, and am still getting, that made my trip possible, I offered a little assistance in the form of picking up some boxes and taking them to the post office for them. I am pretty sure I knew deep down that it was going to be a lot more that.

So I now have a key to their house. Books. English-teaching materials. Food from their pantry. Three hundred dollars to mail three 50 lb. boxes and seven smaller ones. A pile of stuff to go to the garage sale store. I was there to help load the van from Teri's work with their stuff. I saw Kellan throw a fit as he was held by his mom, screaming for his nanny as the van drove away. I watched the nanny, Ann, fail to fight back sobs as she said goodbye to a two-year old she had helped raise. I talked with David about the way he was avoiding the emotions of the situation by putting every thing off to the last minute and rushing around at the eleventh hour. He admitted to it, but as we were getting ready to leave the house, with Teri and Kellan already gone, he bent and picked up a little sand shovel kit from the pile of give-aways. He muttered something to himself and then looked up at me and I could see the memories threatening his composure. He swallowed tears and said it was time to go. He had done most of his packing between 1:30 and 3 pm, although just like me, he didn't get everything done.

After a few stops, I got him to the airport-where he used to be employed by TSA, met up with Teri and Kellan, and along with her boss, said good bye to them all. I drove home to finally put away my groceries from an earlier shopping trip. When I reached my house and opened the rear door, my heart sank. Kellan's car seat was in the back seat-they needed it for him on the plane. I looked at my watch. 4:24. Their flight was scheduled to leave at 4:45. I called David. He answered. I live about 14 miles from the airport. 40 mph is the highest speed limit sign I have seen on this island. "I'll try to get it there" I said.

They got it. In the nick of time. One of his former co-workers met me at the TSA checkpoint and ran it to the plane. I realized how stressful ones leaving can be on the people left behind. Thank you again to all of you who made it possible for me to follow a dream. I love you all so much.

To sum it all up...on the race to the airport, I noticed that the car's alignment got a little bumpy around 70 mph. In the states, I would take the car to the mechanic and tell them about my problem and ask them to fix it. Here, if I took it to a mechanic, they would say the much more-obvious (and cheaper) solution.

"Don't drive 70 miles per hour."

Help a Child Today

2008-06-26T22:38:00.001-04:00

CHILDSAFEfoundation

Twelve year old Ali has lost everything and faces an uncertain future. The explosion that took both his arms also took his family and reduced their home to rubble. The hospital where neighbors took him, treated the life threatening wounds, but For Ali, there is no one to care for him or offer him comfort. He begs for arms so he can take care of himself, but he's twelve years old, he's just a boy, a frightened little boy.

Ali and hundreds more just like him, need us, they need the Foundations for Life program. Please consider helping us by making a contribution that will allow us to help these children.

CHILDSAFEfoundation est. 1993 is a private not for profit humanitarian organization dedicated to helping the most disadvantaged children survivors of war.

CHILDSAFEfoundation

101 Main Street, P.O. Box 22 Madison, MO., 65263

660-998-2773

CHILDSAFEfoundation is reaching out to the massage therapy community to ask for help. Our “Foundations for Life” limb replacement program for child victims of cluster bombs, and mines and other explosives is in trouble.

This past spring, in one week, five young cousins in Lebanon, playing in a field stumbled across a cluster bomb. All five injured, all five needing medical assistance. The same week saw a mother and her four children in Laos injured by a thirty year old cluster bomb that, unknown to them, had become lodged in the soil under their home.

CHILDSAFEfoundation can't budget for these kind of tragedies. It is impossible to know from day to day, season to season when the next explosion will take place. We only know that it will, and more children will be hurt as a result. Sadly, this happens far more often than people realize. Governments, in most of the countries with child victims, are ill equipped and lack resources to help these children.

As a massage therapist, you know what it is like to work with someone who's in pain, you see the effect this has on their lives. This allows you to better understand the kind of pain and suffering these children endure. You, better than most, know why helping these children is so important.

Childsafe has received a very generous offer: if we are able to raise one hundred thousand dollars between now and June 30th, a private donor will match, dollar for dollar, the money raised. This is an amazing offer, one that would allow us to continue our work through the summer and see us through till our regularly scheduled fund raiser this fall.

Please make a contribution today that you can comfortably afford. We have one week to double your money and this will allow us to continue help these children.

Make your online donation today at www.childsafefoundation-usa.org.

On behalf of all the children who will be helped by this program and your generosity, thank you.

Sincerely,

Jacqueline Beaudoin,

Childsafe founder

response to a comment on "unsure"

2008-06-25T21:16:00.003-04:00

the comment was on my unsure post, down a couple weeks. he says:
I think that little voice is our king inside. The one who gives orders to our warrior self, congratulates him for his successes, and admonishes him for his failures. My struggle is in the practice of listening to that king. I'm a warrior by nature (I think) - I like to do, and often times I'm doing just to be doing, without real purpose, without direction from the king. That's very wasteful and I appear guilty before the king regularly.

My hope is to check in with the king once a day (bring myself to account), get my orders for the day and do them. Rinse and repeat. Well, and my king voice seems to need to be heard more regularly than once a day, maybe it's not a daily ritual, but a steady state of willingness to listen when the king is ready to talk. Or maybe it's both.

It's so easy to just go and do, we're praised so much for doing and praised so little for stopping to listen. Hmmm... how to overcome that temptation and stand before the king. Thoughts?

I am going to quote this from the book: Alcoholics Anonymous.
In thinking about our day we may face indecision. We may not be able to determine which course to take. Here we ask God for inspiration, an intuitive thought or decision. We relax and take it easy. We don't struggle. We are often surprised how the right answers come after we have tried this for a while. What used to be the hunch or the occasional inspiration gradually becomes a working part of the mind. Being still inexperienced and having just made conscious contact with God, it is not probable that we are going to be inspired at all times. We might pay for this presumption in all sorts of absurd actions and ideas. Nevertheless, we find that our thinking will, as time passes, be more and more on the plane of inspiration. We come to rely upon it.
pgs. 86-87

Some other stuff I have read brings up a few more points. This paragraph seems to be speaking to those of us who are "new" at "talking" with our Higher Power. But it is important to realize that we can never be so close to God that we don't need to check our behaviors against other, more objective people. The idea that we receive direct inspiration from God can become a dangerous one if not tempered by the humility of our continuing reliance on other people for support as well. Although in theory a total reliance on the God-voice would be ideal, it seems that it would require a level of perfection from us that we are not able to consistently produce. Hence we are given wonderful people in our lives to provide dissension and confirmation to what we hear from within.

I think that the unavoidable conclusion of all of this talk is what I have never wanted to admit-that I have to "grow up" to be as wise as the "grown-ups". I always wanted to believe in my own intellect (still do) and ability. I wanted so badly to be a prodigy, the possessor of a wisdom beyond my years. Of course I also wanted this to be recognized by others. But I am coming to the realization that knowledge is not the same thing as wisdom. Neither is wisdom something that comes automatically with aging. It all takes work-application of the learned actions and ideas against a continuing experience of the reality all around me. Answers beget more questions. Learning begets more discovery. As of right now, I would have to say-as cliche as it sounds-that the more I learn, the more I realize I still have to learn. And that as I continue on my journey, I will learn to consult with my King more and more. It just keeps getting better with age, right J?

GMT + 10:00

2008-06-25T19:45:00.002-04:00

Blah Blah That's the time zone I am in. It is 14 hours ahead of U.S. Eastern Standard Time.
Now I don't watch a whole lot of TV. I have come to regard it with actual disdain. I was not a big fan of my parents and the daily restriction of half-an-hour that they placed on me as I grew up. Having emerged from my time spent under their rules, and my necessary rebellion at everything they proposed for me, I self-regulate myself to approximately an hour of television a week. When I did have cable last year, I spent my time building up my brain power by watching South Park episodes. Respect mah authoritah!
Here on Saipan I don't have cable-or even a television. But I was recently alerted to the 2008 European Cup soccer tournament, and I enjoy the sport so I decided to try and watch some of the matches. And herein lies the problem. When I asked the folks here when the game was they responded, "It starts at 4:45."
"A.M." I questioned.
Yessiree. So I set my alarm, went to bed early (Damn that was hard!) and got up and went to Dale's house to watch the game with some other devoted fans. But this got me thinking about some other sporting events. Like the recent NBA Finals. They all seemed to come on in mid-afternoon...hard to catch if you were at work, although several of the people I watched one of the games with claimed an "extended meeting" to make up for the absence at work. It is Saipan after all. What about something like the Super Bowl? Well, kick-off at 6:30 pm EST would be 8:30 am here. Heck of a time to start drinking at a Super Bowl party!
Nascar races would begin around 2 or 3 in the morning here...and go until near sunrise. And Monday Night Football is going to begin around 11 am come that time of year.
I'm just trying to point out the immense sacrifices that the dedicated sports fan has to make here on Saipan. It ain't me. I'm not gonna make those sacrifices. But some people will. Some people have to. And they should be recognized. And saluted.
The question this brings up for me is...if I can get up at 4:45 am for a soccer match, why can't I get up for all the other structured activities in my life? Maybe it just means that watching soccer matches should be an important part of my life.

stand up

2008-06-24T06:39:00.002-04:00

the song i refer to in my last post...

this is a youtube video for the song Stand Up by the Flobots
support these guys by buying their album

dear mr. president

2008-06-24T06:21:00.002-04:00

This is a song I heard for the first time on the radio here in Saipan yesterday. I was amazed as the song went on...before it was over the radio station had cut the song off-and then seemed to go through a little bit of a scramble to get back on the air. It is powerful. I don't know if it's all true. I don't believe that we can lay all the damage in our country at any one person's feet. But I never been so frustrated in dealing with other people as I have been over the past eight-plus years of debating George W. Bush and his abilities with his supporters. And now, as people jump the sinking ship of his administration, and experts analyze and corroborate the views that many of the citizens of this country have held...the question still remains:

What the hell are we going to do about it?

If you like just listening to socially conscious music-nothing wrong with just liking some music-check out these guys...the Flobots...while their new single is good-I like some of the other songs with their more direct messages. Check out the whole album, or especially the track Stand Up. This is the video for the first single "Handlebars".

perfection

2008-06-18T13:12:00.003-04:00

i am incredibly smart
some days i will not be able to converse coherently
i love listening to people talk about themselves
today i might be sick of your prattling
i have always had a reasonably healthy diet
the next month could be nothing but pizza and soda
i am trying to watch my mouth
but i might have a Tourettes moment now and then
i am embracing religious views that demand a high moral standard
i will not always be able to adhere to a high moral standard
over two years ago i decided to give up alcohol and drugs
but the rest of the world didn't
i was praised for my abilities as a massage therapist
yet to this day i am afraid to begin a practice
i can speak english
i enjoy teaching
yet i am scared to attempt to teach english
i know all final decisions rest with me and the One within
yet these words are a cry for validation and direction
i can feel the possibilities that exist
they are infinite
and so i continue to stand in their midst
with my eyes tightly shut
some days i will make a difference
and some days i will barely make it
for as long as i can remember i have expected perfection
and for as long as i can remember i have given myself
the perfect excuse.
it's about progress...not perfection.
but i won't make progress if i am not striving for perfection
because i am perfect right now
and tomorrow i will be perfect again
and i will continue to be as perfect as i can be
for the rest of my life
so i never have to chastise myself
for not being perfect

i love the internet

2008-06-18T11:07:00.006-04:00

one minute i was reading the blog of a local Baha'i/ophthalmologist/soccer player who has a wonderful sense of humor

then i was reading THIS blog from a surgeon in South Africa

AND, best of all,Homer Simpson was involved.

Click here

GO TO THIS BLOG

2008-06-15T15:05:00.004-04:00

Free Your Mind and Think

selfish

2008-06-11T10:46:00.006-04:00

1: concerned excessively or exclusively with oneself : seeking or concentrating on one's own advantage, pleasure, or well-being without regard for others
2: arising from concern with one's own welfare or advantage in disregard of others
— self·ish·ly adverb
— self·ish·ness noun

now that I have read the definition I am unsure if I can write what I was thinking.

i don't know anyone who fits these definitions even half the time.

this seems to be a definition of an extreme...and i don't think reality exists in extremes.

so none of the examples i was thinking of fit--under this definition.

2008-06-10T04:32:00.000-04:00

neighbor dogs
who come running toward the sound of my scooter every time I pull up
barking and just making a general ruckus
that subsides once I cut the engine and say
"Hey there doggies"
in a soft yet excited tone of voice
that causes them to go from their on-guard stance
to the curling-body-with-a-wagging-tail stance that says
"please pet me!"
the scenario repeats itself when I leave
in a mirror image they act
and follow me up the driveway
barking and chasing
until they grow tired and return home
casting satisfied glances over their shoulders
with a triumphant sense of accomplishment

Gobi would do the exact same thing if he were here
so, Why DO dogs like to bark at and chase small-engine powered vehicles so much?

unsure

2008-06-10T04:13:00.000-04:00

I am delving deeper into the science of healing and it's varying modalities. I am re-examining some self-awakening techniques that I have known about for awhile, but that I haven't practiced lately. I can see outlines and patterns of my behaviors and the ensuing discomfort that is produced, usually as a result of not following that little voice's direction.

That little voice that I have always heard. Even in some of my more depraved states, when I had muddied my mind and body with chemicals and alcohol, I would be shocked by clear statements that seemed to originate inside of me, despite my intoxication. Sometimes, I tried to shut that voice up, because I did not want to hear it. Other times I just ignored it. More often lately, I will listen to it on certain matters, but rationalize my way out of following it's directions on others.

It has been telling me that I was going to travel for years. It has told me that I have to spread the Word of God-as I understand him-and to share that with others who will listen. It has repeatedly told me to spend time alone with myself. It told me in a huge way last year that I no longer had to be afraid of God in the way that I had been for my entire life. Everything it has spoken of in the past, I can see now as beneficial to me; I could even see it at the time, but I just wasn't ready for all of it at the time.

I can admit now that I am not willing to cease certain behaviors...that I want to wallow in "whatever" a little while longer. I hope that this is just a step along the way to being able to follow my spirit's suggestions in a more timely manner.

it rains

2008-06-07T14:42:00.000-04:00

in sheets
a torrential downpour
drenching everything.

the wind gusts
blowing the rain sideways
through windows and doors.

clouds obscure the sun
and the entire sky becomes gray
an entire ocean and mountain
under one storm.

then the sun appears
and the rain slows
and the clouds that you could see coming
pass by and dissolve
and you are left with beauty again.

Moving On Up....

2008-06-06T01:55:00.000-04:00

I moved today. Although I had a wonderful apartment with lots of room and great landlords and neighbors, it was a little expensive for the lifestyle I am trying to lead-namely, that of a beach bum who doesn't go to work. So, more in line with that idea, I was asked by the lovely couple whom I described in my surfing blogs, Mark & Patty, (and of course their son Kai) to house sit while they are vacationing (hah!) in the states for the next two months. They are renting a two-story house in the northern reaches of the island, about nine miles from where I was staying.

I stayed there once before, and last night I stayed again so that I could get up with them and drive them to the airport this morning. Then I packed up my apartment, which took a little longer than I had expected, and drove everything over to their house. I have begun to acquire things, as one does I suppose, and it made me feel like throwing a lot of stuff away. One of my neighbors in the apartments is getting ready to move back to the states with his family, and so they had given me all sorts of things-from pots and plates, to a printer and English tutoring materials. I was struck by the husband's character when we first met, because although he obviously had his opinions about our other neighbor, he verbally let me know that he wasn't going to share them with me, and he more or less-we're all human-stuck to that principle of not talking about others. Instantly impressed me...as they say, first impressions...something something. He is also a very new Christian, as is his wife, who is Chinese, and so they are undergoing some drastic changes in their lives. I gave him a little Hidden Words book, which prompted him to unload even more books on to me-from religious and prophetic reading, to investigations on the slave trade in Saipan to accounts of military soldiers of the USS Indianapolis-which was sunk somewhere in the Pacific Ocean...I think. I finally stopped him, but I would guess that-counting all the tutoring material he gave me-I have about 30 new books from him.

Then I got to Mark & Patty's house, and as they showed me around and went over the care-taking requirements, Mark started giving me books that we had talked about. Three Cups of Tea, which some of you may recognize, Khalid Hosseni (wrong spelling-I hope I'm close) new book, a book and cd on a form of meditation, and some Buddhist books. Not to mention tons of Surf Journal magazines and some surfing picture books. Even cooler, they sold their TV/video games and entertainment center since I was last there! But he still has yoga DVDs and he suggested i try one on the laptop since I keep talking about getting started with it. I know it will come as it needs to.

So I'm moved in...the neighbors are the owners, they have lots of dogs-four-and pigs-one young one fenced right next to the back corner of the lot. They also have a metal roof on their house, and there are mango trees, and some coconut trees too, but mainly mango trees, that lose their fruits during the night. Apparently it's better now than it has been, since lots of them have already fallen, but when one drops in the middle of the night...well, it sounds like something heavy dropping five or ten feet and hitting a tin roof. I'm sure I'll get used to it soon, but it is startling now no matter how ready i am for it.

I'll go into it more later-but these folks are wonderful and have a great energy. I am impressed by their life, their attitudes, and their home feels warm and comfortable. I'll get a couple exterior pictures--nothing special--and a shot from the bedroom patio-it looks down over the lagoon to the west. I'll be staying there until July 28th, when they get back from the states. Ciao.

topic from a meeting

2008-05-31T01:57:00.000-04:00

picture by Ryan Sawhill

This evening I was reminded of one of my old beliefs, one that I had nurtured and stroked most of my life. I say old with a sense of hope...because I have found beliefs that I thought I had discarded somehow back in my mind and actions without ever seeing it return.

The belief is: that I cannot learn from others; their mistakes, experience, advice, etc...That I have to make the mistakes myself. This had always been my m.o., from the earliest time I can remember. Of course, as children there is a phase where we do this simply to form our own identity, to separate ourselves from our parents, and I definitely did that. Rebelliousness fit like a tailored suit, and the admonitions from others always came couched with an off-handed praise in my early years.

"Now you're very smart, but _______ is going to cause you problems if you keep it up."

A hundred different variations of that warning were hurled my way, starting in my elementary school days, and I rarely remember taking a single one seriously. I was constantly falling down, constantly running into walls. Repeatedly, as I look back now, exactly what others predicted would happen did-and I just continued right on with my attitude of disregard. This attitude was enforced by a firm sense of entitlement, a belief that the world owed me something, and so I found a thousand scapegoats for my actions and failures without ever fully recognizing the prophetic warnings that were constantly leveled at me.

By the time I was aware enough to see my behavior with some sort of honest (I use that term VERY loosely) self-appraisal. I came up with the above stated belief to explain it. I just couldn't learn from others. It was how I had always been. Just the way it was. Just the way I was. I even tried to justify it by saying that I was "questioning truths" and not just taking everything that was told me without finding out for myself. My mind was playing tricks on itself.

I gave so much credence to that belief, as I said I coddled it and nursed it, reinforced as it was by so many other people around me who said the same thing about themselves, that I was a little surprsied when one day it was challenged. Someone just said "Bull___. Quit using that as an excuse for your behavior and laziness."

Ouch. But he continued, pointing out countless instances in my life that showed me grasping a concept that I only vaguely had experienced for myself, based upon what other people had told me. "Do you know what that is called?" he asked me, hesitating as I screwed up my face and honestly tried to think of the answer. I couldn't, and he told me. "Maturity."

There is so much that could be said along this topic...but I am just postulating the idea, the mere possibility, that an idea such as "I have to experience it myself to learn/understand/believe it" is extremely self-limiting. And I found for myself that it was an extremely easy (because they don't always go quietly!) belief to discard.

I DO learn from others mistakes. I listen to what those who appear to have gone before me share. I try to limit my use of the expression "I know"---because I don't know. But today I am open to the possibility that somebody does know, and I like to look for that experience when facing my life.

Oh my...

2008-05-29T19:01:00.000-04:00

(written in July 2007)

Paulo Coelho's Warrior of the Light - Twenty Years Later

Warrior Of Light
Issue n°151 - Twenty Years Later

Next week we commemorate Santiago de Compostela day (25th July). Last year, to celebrate the 20th anniversary of my first Santiago Walk, I made the pilgrimage again, by car, in the company of my wife.

I remember one afternoon sitting in a garden in Leon, looking at the river flowing by.

Beside me, Christina – my wife – is reading a book. Spring is beginning in Europe, so now we can put away our thick winter clothes. We have been traveling by car all these days, passing through certain places that have marked our lives (Christina traveled the Road to Santiago in 1990). Though not in any hurry, we have covered 500 kilometers in less than a week.

Mineral water. Coffee.

People talking, people walking.

People also having their coffee and mineral water.

Then I go back twenty years in time, to one afternoon in July or August 1986, a coffee, a mineral water, people talking and walking – except this time the scenario is the plain that stretches out beyond Castrojeriz. My birthday draws near; I left Saint Jean Pied-de-Port some time ago and have covered just over half the journey to Santiago de Compostela.

Walking speed: 20 kilometers a day.

I look ahead, the monotonous landscape, the guide also having his coffee in a bar that seems to have appeared out of nowhere. I look behind; the same monotonous landscape, the only difference being that the dust on the ground bears the marks of the soles of my shoes – but that is temporary, and the wind will sweep them away before night falls.

Everything seems unreal to me.

What am I doing here? This question goes on pursuing me, although several weeks have already gone by.

I am looking for a sword. I am performing a ritual of RAM, a small order within the Catholic Church without any secrets or mysteries besides trying to understand the symbolic language of the world. I am thinking that I have been fooled, that the spiritual quest is just something with no sense or logic and that I would be better off in Brazil, caring about what I always cared about.

I am doubting my own sincerity in this quest, because it is hard work looking for a God who never shows Himself, praying at specific times, traveling strange roads, being disciplined, accepting orders that seem absurd.

That’s it: I doubt my sincerity. During all these days, Petrus has said that the road belongs to everyone, the common folk, which makes me very disappointed. I thought that all this effort would ensure me a special place among the few chosen who approach the great archetypes of the universe. I thought that I was finally going to discover that it was all true, all those stories about secret governments of wise men in Tibet, magic potions capable of provoking love where there is no attraction, and rituals where all of a sudden the gates of Paradise open up, was all true.

But what Petrus tells me is exactly the opposite: there are no chosen. We are all chosen, if instead of wondering “what am I doing here?” we decide to do something that fills our hearts with enthusiasm. Working with enthusiasm, love that transforms, the choice that leads us to God, that is where the gates of Paradise are to be found.

And this enthusiasm connects us to the Holy Spirit, not the hundreds and thousands of readings of the classic texts. It is wanting to believe that life is a miracle that enables miracles to happen, not the so-called “secret rituals” or “initiatory orders”. In short, it is man’s decision to comply with his destiny that really makes him a man – not the theories that he develops around the mystery of existence.

And here I am. A little beyond halfway on the road to Santiago de Compostela. If everything is as simple as Petrus says, why all this useless adventure?
On that afternoon in León in the far-off year of 1986, I still do not know that in six or seven years’ time I will write a book on this experience of mine, which is already in my soul - the shepherd Santiago in quest of a treasure - that a woman called Veronika had prepared to swallow some pills and try to commit suicide, and that Pilar will stand on the banks of the river Piedra and write her diary in tears.

All I know is that I am on this absurd and monotonous walk. There is no fax, no cellular phone, the shelters are few and far between, my guide seems irritated the whole time, and I have no way of knowing what is going on in Brazil.

All I know at this very moment is that I am tense, nervous, incapable of talking with Petrus because I have just realized that I can no longer go on doing what I have been doing – even if this means giving up a reasonable amount of money at the end of the month, a certain emotional stability, a job that I know well and some techniques that I master. I need to change, follow in the direction of my dream, a dream that seems to me childish, ridiculous and impossible to make come true: to become the writer that I have secretly always wanted to be, but have never had the courage to admit.

Petrus finishes his coffee and mineral water, asks me to get the check and for us to start walking again, because there are still some kilometers to the next town. People go on passing by and talking, looking out of the corner of their eye at these two middle-aged pilgrims, wondering about the strange people in this world who are always ready to try and relive a past that is already dead (*). The temperature must be around 27o C because it is late afternoon and for the thousandth time I ask myself whether I have made the wrong decision.

Did I want to change? I don’t think so, but after all, this road is changing me. Did I want to know the mysteries? I think so, but the road is teaching me that there are no mysteries, that – as Jesus Christ said – nothing is hidden that has not been revealed. In other words, everything is happening in exactly the opposite way from what I expected.

We rose and started to walk in silence. I am engrossed in my thoughts, in my insecurity, and I imagine Petrus must be thinking about his job in Milan. He is here because somehow he was obliged by Tradition, but perhaps he hopes that the walk will soon come to an end so that he can get back to doing what he likes.

We walk for almost all of what remains of the afternoon without talking. We are isolated in our forced companionship. Santiago de Compostela lies ahead and I cannot imagine that this road leads me not only to this city, but also to many other cities in the world. Neither I nor Petrus know that this afternoon on the plain of León I am also walking to Milan, his city, which I shall reach almost ten years from now, with a book called “The Alchemist”. I am walking towards my destiny, dreamed of so many times and so many times denied.

In a few days I shall arrive at exactly the place where today, twenty years down the track, I write these lines. I am walking in the direction of what I always wanted, and I have neither faith nor hope that my life will be changed.

Yet I push ahead. In some distant future, in one of the bars which I shall pass by a few days from now, my wife is already sitting reading a book, and there am I, writing this text on a computer that in a few minutes will send it by Internet to the newspaper where it will be published.

I am walking towards that future – on this August afternoon in 1986.
(*) in the year I made the pilgrimage, only 400 people had taken the Road to Santiago. In 2005, according to non-official statistics, 400 people passed every day in front of the bar mentioned in the text.

Copyright @ 2007 by Paulo Coelho
Warrior of the Light, a www.paulocoelho.com.br publication

jittery

2008-05-29T01:48:00.000-04:00

I am a giant vibrator...

What I mean is, my entire body feels as if it is vibrating right now, like a high-octane race fuel is pumping through my veins and I am being held in check at the starting line. Like any moment I will explode into some action or state of raucousness. (Wow, I spelled that word correctly first try.) And it has been going on all day. And maybe yesterday too. I have nervous energy...I am not working, a state of being which I haven't experienced for this much time in over seven years. And then I was using drugs and alcohol to fill up my time. But even then I would get restless after an extended period without work-without a purpose.

Relax and enjoy it, someone advised me today, laughing at my discomfort. I know that I should. I am trying not to struggle with this. Paradise? Oh no, I will find something to complain about, or else my name's not Complainy McPlainPants. Can't enjoy myself on this beautiful tropical island because I'm not working. Geez. But it's not just that. I have bills and debits mounting up, and although I am not in immediate danger, I am somewhere near a fork in the road that says financial stability-to the left. And to the right-what the heck are you doing? At least that's what my map looks like to me right now.

I want to solve major problems. I want to experience freedom from limiting beliefs. I am trying to expand my mind and grasp some greater truth. I feel the need to devote myself to some worthwhile cause. Repeatedly I am seeing families and thinking about my past decisions, which always leads to comparing myself to others-a fruit-less endeavor. I want to teach. To share. What good is this intellect with no one to converse with. Why does everyone go have a drink in the evening? Why can't someone speak up and say, "Gee, I sure would like some good conversation tonight-let's go get some food and talk." It doesn't happen. No response when I offer it. I am sooooo impatient.

p.s. the caffeine probably isn't helping. but that is not it. this feeling has been growing ever since this weekend in Guam. there is so much emotion bubbling just below the surface of me-there is precious little that i can talk about with tears beginning to slide down my cheeks and dampen my "beard" (i use that term loosely!). Talk about job possibilities? Crying. Working with kids? Cry. teach the Faith? tears. Love? cry. Life? cry.

What am I mourning? Is it what I think? Cuz something already told me what it was, and I don't like it. Fear? Definitely. Always. Sometimes I hate %$^& crying. and sensitivity. bunch o' horse....i'm going to chew some tobacco or something manly like that. this blows.

disconnected

2008-05-28T17:13:00.000-04:00

i typed a lot last night.

it was funny and going great.

then i lost my connection.

and it didn't save.

and i don't feel funny at all right now.

adios.

Community

2008-05-26T20:56:00.000-04:00

I am learning that it helps my readers if I can convey a message in fewer words, and while I am pretty sure this is possible, I do so like to hear myself, err, type...

I hope you have had the experience of revitalization at some point in your lives. What I mean when I say that is the experience of re-learning, or having beliefs re-affirmed by others through some indirect form of communication. I don't simply speak of "mob thinking", where the sentiments and energies of a large group of people can influence one's own thinking, but the actual realization of truth, deep inside, not from the outside, which confirms something that has always been there-albeit often forgotten.

Sharing the Word of God with others brings great joy.

No matter how sure I am of my path, there is always room for improvement.

My tests are nothing compared to the tests of some people on this planet-and I should always be grateful for my hardships-because they are mine-they are me.

I am here to be of service to my fellow man.

Everyone is doing the best they can at this time.

I was so overcome this weekend by so many emotions, but mostly by the love and sense of community that I was drawn into by a group of folks who know nothing of me. I was awed by people who had left their homes in America decades ago to spread the faith that they believed in. They came to the Marianas when there was no comfort of modern America as there is today...and they have stayed and raised families, and built a loving community. And despite the current situation, they have continued to teach and spread their love, even as they see their efforts bear only little fruit. For my entire life I have heard this message of brotherly love, this promise of God that there is more than just...life. And I feel now how deeply others must have felt when it blazed in their own hearts...I must share this with you. With her and him. With them. Not because your salvation depends upon it. Not because I get anything from it.

Because it fills my heart with joy to do so. No matter whether you accept or reject it. And I will follow that joy wherever it takes me. I love you all.

Off island

2008-05-23T00:43:00.000-04:00

For a little while.

Going to Guam, which is only a 50 minute flight from Saipan.

Everyone describes it as a much more commercialized, fast-paced version of this island. It's economy is actually doing pretty well at the moment, and the general opinion seems to be that jobs are available there, if I want them.

I don't really want a fast-paced, commercialized life style at the moment. It sounds like there is "more" of everything on Guam.

More jobs.
More expenses.
More tourists.
More US military personnel.
More american businesses.

But I don't know yet if I'll have many chances to be online...this weekend is the Baha'i National Convention of the Marianas-so through Sunday I'll be pretty busy. I will also get to check out some meetings on the island, more people means more fellowship. Looking forward to it!

iPod

2008-05-22T01:48:00.000-04:00

I am moved by music. It causes my limbs to move in time with its rhythm, foot tapping and head nodding-sometimes in anticipation, sometimes in ecstasy, sometimes to the tips of my extremities, and sometimes a pulsing that moves through my body with no outward sign that my heart beats
In
Time
With
The
Beat.

You cannot tell me how this music makes me feel. You can watch from the outside as my face softens and my lips spread and my eyelids droop, as I slide into a alternate universe where everything moves in time with the beat in my head. Cars pass by, or slow down to turn; cyclists pedal along the path, weaving around pedestrians and joggers; dogs trot alongside their owners; children run towards the water’s edge; and the clouds flow across the sky, covering the heaven’s light momentarily and casting their shadows on the ground all around me-it all is in time to the instruments that are pounding out a tune inside my skull, coloring my vision.

Evoking memories seems to be my iPods current specialty. As it shuffles through its mix of songs, it drops songs into my consciousness that trigger remembrances of loved ones, of life events and of feelings and emotions that surround them. The amazing lesson I am learning from this small device, an iPod shuffle-which btw has no screen, so that you cannot see your song list to pick what is next, hence the name-is to feel my emotions fully and completely. Acceptance, perhaps? Maybe-so often I have railed against my feelings-I fight, I run, I cover them up, sedate and try to alter them; so rarely have I ever felt the feeling coming and relaxed into it, consciously let go, un-tensed my muscles-mental and physical-and allowed the emotion to wash over me.

Especially now, with so many new feelings-loss, separation, joy, accomplishment-this iPod lets me experience a huge range of emotions, and I can just let them flow. I can ride and listen, smiling and crying, and it is a freedom that is new to me. Sometimes I don’t want the feeling, and often I change a song for that reason, or just because I don’t feel the song at that particular moment. Occasionally I replay songs, if their feeling is so poignant that I don’t finish feeling it with one song. Sometimes I just feel like wallowing-Coldplay is a great band for that particular feeling.

Give it a try. Pick a song you know touches you. Put it in you ear. Put your face under the sun. Walk. Sit. Wear a pair of sunglasses so that you can cry if you need to. Love yourself and acknowledge that feelings or all true, and they are all ok. That’s just what I have been doing…but do whatever you want. Because I cannot tell you how this music makes you feel.

To Tell The Truth...Or Not

2008-05-20T23:17:00.000-04:00

Most of us would agree that telling the truth is a good thing. At least, that's what we would say. Whether or not we were being honest...no just kidding. It seems that even today, amidst a culture that breeds mistrust and manipulation, most people would agree that lying is bad.

I had a conversation with a friend today and he was lamenting something he had told his boss. He is in his 50's, and is working at a relatively new job, after spending quite some time as a teacher in foreign countries. He loved that work, but has recently noticed some old learning handicaps surfacing as he has attempted to learn everything necessary in his new position. Realizing it was causing him some problems, he shared with his boss his history of learning disability as it related to his present situation. She considered it and asked him if she could share that information with others in the company if they asked. He acquiesced, but it immediately set him to worrying about the possible ramifications of what he had done. As he confessed to me, he was afraid he had shot himself in the foot.

I have encountered similar situations in regards to my past criminal record as it relates to, well, just about anything. Applying for jobs, school, and my certification as a massage therapist and bodyworker all were impeded by telling the truth about my history. Being honest on my entry permit into Japan got my pulled out of line and seated in a side office for an extra 25 minutes, as I maligned myself for being so stupid and truthful. But the truth was, although no one in Japan would probably ever have known that I lied on that entry form...what if???? I knew it, and it's what caused me to change my answer as I neared the immigration kiosk. I have had to face a few boards and committees and individuals to explain myself and my record...but I have faced them on the front end, almost always (I'm not perfect ya' know) instead of having to explain a lie after the fact. When I do have to explain lies after the fact, I still have often been given second and even third chances, not always, but often-but think of all the damage and mistrust I have caused. How much easier could it have been? How many referrals and recommendations did I not get because of my dishonesty? There is no comparison to being honest up front and coming clean after a ruse has been discovered.

I remember my father telling me that all a man really has is his reputation in this world-his good name. Whether or not that's all we have-it has taken me a looong time to rebuild that name. I was 15 when I first began to mar it...I am 29 now and I am still not totally out of the woods as far as the government and some other agencies are concerned. But I feel as if I have more than regained the trust of family and friends, even complete strangers who are told of my past, most of the time through continued contact come to trust me. Not all of them. But then again I don't trust everyone I meet either. None of that could have happened if I had peppered my daily business and personal relationships with repeated dishonesties, or even simply omissions. There are families I have worked with who would never have checked...but since they were trusting me in their homes, with their children, I felt it necessary that I trust them with my past wrong-doings, so that they knew all of me. Not that it was always easy, or even that it always worked out the way I wanted it to, but I always left the situation feeling unashamed and knowing that I was hiding nothing.

Unfortunately, there are people who will slander us, use our admissions against us, whether intentionally, out of irrational fear, or simply because they feel as if they are doing the right thing. Through my associations with recovering alcoholics and addicts, I've learned that there is a time to keep some things to ourselves. We definitely needn't rush around proclaiming our wrongs for all to hear, nor make them public knowledge in all situations. Where do we draw the line? Should we hide things about ourselves, if we think that we would be harmed by others finding out?

Although I have no family to support, I would say that the only instance where I recommend this would be if that was the case. And even then, I would hope that I would be able to consult with my wife, and together we could make a decision that upheld our values of integrity, but did not put us and our family into harms way.

As I have read somewhere, we must be ready and willing to admit everything, to go to whatever lengths necessary, to retain our self-respect and sense of integrity. Not that we should cower or confess before our fellow man, but that we should always be honest. And trust that although we may not see it, we cannot do wrong by telling the truth on ourselves, no matter what the consequences. Nothing...absolutely nothing happens in God's world by mistake.

what post?

2008-05-20T02:00:00.000-04:00

so at some point in the past week i felt-for the first time since i started this blog-that i didn't have anything to write about. and i cast about a little bit, found something, and then the weekend came with the soccer tournament and so i wrote about that. but i am online for the third time today, and i have avoided posting a blog because i just wasn't feeling it.

I was telling someone the other day that I expected of myself some great and profound literary work, each time I put something up. But I haven't felt funny or satirical, and although I have had a couple thoughts about posts I haven't been able to make more than a paragraph out of any of them. And somehow I twisted that into being resentful at the people I love who are reading these...as if it was their fault that I had such a high expectation of myself and didn't feel like I could meet it.

So this is my post about NOT posting...because I don't know what the hell to write, and I don't need any comment or assurance just needed to write it. Love you all and thanks for everything.

3-on3 Tournament

2008-05-18T07:25:00.000-04:00

I mentioned that I would be playing in a soccer tournament on Sunday...which I did, it was great fun and I'm happy to say that I was on the winning team at the end of the day!

The event was held at P.I.C. (Pacific Islands Club), which is the resort that my friend Carmen worked at when she was in Saipan years ago. She and I stayed here for one night and got to enjoy the water park and we ate the Magellan restaurant, which has an amazing buffet-probably some of the best food on the island. Anyways, registration was at 8:30 to 9 am, and it was a $10 entry fee, which also got you a water park admission for the entire day (a $30 value). There were 54 players, split up by skill level into 18 pretty well-balanced teams. Just from what I saw, the organizers, who also played, did a very good job of making it a fair, anyone-can-win-it day. Our team was by no means the best, but lots of luck and a few good plays made us the winners.

We started off in the first of four brackets, and we played three games in that bracket, all closely together, two in a row at one point. We played both of the first two matches to a draw, and we won the third to get us into the playoffs. Since we played our entire bracket first, which took a little over an hour, we then had over 3 and a half hours to enjoy the park, goof off and watch the others. When we finally got back on the field in the afternoon, we just had a good match up in the quarterfinals, out of the possible opponents. The games were 6 minutes straight through (no halftime), with a three (i think) minute over-time and after that was a 2 minute sudden death overtime, then a penalty kick shootout if no one scored a golden goal. The fields were smaller even than a basketball court, and during the shootout there s no goalie, in fact there is no goalie at all during any of the game, but the shooter must take the PK from the opposite side of the field...about 50 or 60 feet. Our first playoff game went to a shootout, as well as the final. The semifinal game was won by the crowd arguing an uncalled goal, eventually the other team conceded it, and a last minute goal right before overtime ended. The final went into overtime, then sudden death overtime. Then we all did terrible in the shootout, with only one player from each team making their shot. But keeping it tied like that sent it into a sudden death shootout. And they missed their first shot. Our captain Jessie, (or Jetsada) didn't. It was a little unbelievable, but he and I, along with a Korean high-schooler named Joshua, kept insisting that we should just have fun the entire day, and we did.

So anyways, we won a little money, a soccer ball made for playing on black top (street soccer), and a free pass to the waterpark and restaurant. Then we all got to enjoy the waterpark for as long as we wanted. It also was a wonderful way to get my ego-fix! Haha, seriously, it always feels good to win something, especially in front of lots of people. And it makes the whole integration process a lot easier because everyone got my name from the announcer, and all I had to do was answer the same questions over and over again!

I am sore. Yes, I will use the Arnica-ointment and pills. Yes, I stretched, and I will ice the sore spots too. And I am relaxing. And using reiki. And I will probably go get a massage from someone too. You can't beat $25 for an hour massage! But I will be sure to tip generously!

Feast

2008-05-17T08:46:00.000-04:00

I went to my first one in...oh, about 8, 9, maybe 10 years today.

I got a little teary-eyed for a second as the readings were being passed around towards me.

We read from the Advent of Divine Justice, I'm not exactly sure what about, although it referred to "this day" a lot...

It also referred to a needle's eye...just like the Emmet Fox/bible reference i talked about earlier...

I swear by God! So great are the things ordained for the steadfast that were they, so much as the eye of a needle, to be disclosed, all who are in heaven and on earth would be dumbfounded, except such as God, the Lord of all worlds, hath willed to exempt.

That's what I found online, although without the context and on its own it sounds a little incorrect. But either way...i think he (Baha'u'llah) is referring to an actual needle's eye in this quote...yes?

So I'm incredibly touched and gladdened by all the love I get back from everyone regarding...well, re: everything. Thanks for your help and support.

Football Club

2008-05-16T09:07:00.000-04:00

No, not that kind of football you stinkin' Americans! The kind where the ball is maneuvered by a players foot. I can't remember if I mentioned it but a few weeks ago Saipan hosted the 2008 Marianas Cup, in which the men's and women's national teams played against their rivals from Guam. The women's teams played on Saturday, and Saipan avenged their 9-0 trouncing from last year by keeping the match a scoreless draw through two overtime periods, despite an amazing offensive effort by Guam. The men's team was also out to avenge a loss from their last match-up, and it was an exciting game, with goals going back and forth. Saipan tied the score 3-3 and regulation play ended that way, but in the final seconds of the second overtime period Guam hit a strike from about 25 yards out, and with almost no time left to reply, Saipan was defeated.

The interesting part of some of these matches were the age of some of the players. The women's player who I was most impressed with turned out to be a 15 year old middle school student! On the women's national team! As soon as I met the coach of the teams, he pointed out the possibility of being a national team player. "Where else could you just move to and become a player on the National Team?" he asked me with a smile. Intriguing, for sure.

So I went out and played in a pick-up game tonight. The bulk of the players were Korean, but there were a few others there, and it was a really good time. I had just bought brand new cleats, so it was a good chance to try them out, break them in and get a few touches on a ball in traffic. There is a 3 on 3 tournament this Sunday, with cash prizes for the winners in three divisions. So it was good to handle the ball a little bit.

About the only other thing I did was ride the bike today, I'd guess I rode about 16 to 20 miles back and forth around the island today, and I still have a half-mile to go to get home, up-hill, in the dark, and the snow, barefoot...Plus the running around during the soccer match, so now I'm good and worn out...

and looking forward to some more football playing soon...

Unload That Camel

2008-05-15T17:15:00.000-04:00

Liz gave me a Daily Meditations book by Emmet Fox...on May 13th he explains a saying that I believe most of us misunderstand...

"Jesus said, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God (Mark 10:25)
The simile used by Jesus is a graphic one for his listeners. In those days every important city was surrounded by a wall for defense. There would be a large gate in the wall and this would be closed at sunset and placed under an armed guard. There was usually, however, a low wicket gate known as the needle's eye, set in the big door. When a laden camel arrived after sunset the only way it could get in was to be unloaded of all merchandise, whereupon it would squirm on its knees through the needle's eye.
Unload your camel if you want to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. You do this, of course, not by getting rid of conditions in themselves, but by getting rid of your sense of dependency on them. Very often you will find yourself so glad to be without a lot of that merchandise that you will never put it back."

If you are the least bit open to the spiritual ideas and interpretations of great thinkers, I urge you to get a copy of Emmet Fox's Sermon on the Mount. Likewise, if like me, you harbor prejudices against Christians or the faith itself, this book may help you as it did me. I tried to have a dictionary present while I was reading it.

Clapton

2008-05-14T18:13:00.000-04:00

As a follow-up to the other day...I went to the Aqua Resort Club (kinda redundant huh?) and shared my lie with the Front Manager whom I had interviewed with. Once she understood what I was saying she laughed at me and told me not to worry about it. Nothing else I said mattered to her, she just kept going letting me know that it was ok and that someone would call me soon, which they did. Unfortunately, I haven't caught the call coming in and my return calls always end up in messages, so I'm not sure what the result is yet...

I read a great book yesterday, and I want to recommend it to any and all of ya'll. It's called Peter and the Starcatchers, and is co-authored by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearce. It is the story of Peter Pan, before he became Peter Pan-basically a prequel...great for kids and grown folk.

I also was reading some more of Eric Clapton's autobiography, which was developing slowly, not nearly as easy to read as Steve Martin's autobiography, which was quite entertaining, when I came to a paragraph that slapped me in the face.

“I left the club with June, who instantly became my one of my best friends. We did not become lovers, however; I really enjoyed her company as a friend and didn’t want to spoil it. I’m pretty sure she wanted to go down that road but at that point I hadn’t figured out that it was possible to fancy a girl and also be friends with her. Sex was still a matter of conquest rather than the result of a loving relationship. The idea simply never occurred to me that you could have an intelligent conversation with a girl and then sleep with her.”

I am not going to go into details about any specific person or relationship. This is not so true in my life recently as it was a part of my belief for years. The conquest of sexual relations was the precise thing that caused dissatisfaction-aka as the grass is greener on the other side-and kept me searching and running. Even writing this I realize that this is a belief that has many layers underneath it, ideas of my value and how deserving I am of happiness, so this is by no means a root or core belief. Some of you may be saying, "Duh!" but as I keep re-learning...there's a big difference between the mind grasping and accepting an idea, and the heart/soul part of me understanding that same thing. So the question I asked myself after reading this a few times:

How do I turn off the urge to conquer?

instinctually

2008-05-14T01:42:00.000-04:00

I remember my father and I leaving the Target at Independence near Idlewild some years ago, before it was vacated and refurbished as a BJ's Warehouse. We were approached by a man who asked for money, but not without a long story about being from a far away place, Texas I think, and trying to get to another far away place; I think there was some sick family involved somewhere as well. My dad shook his head no and said that he couldn't help him. I was all but ready to fork over my life savings to the guy, or at least to give him the little bit of money I had.
I remember asking my dad why he hadn't given him anything, especially since he was from Texas-which, in case you don't know, is actually not only NOT just another state, but actually an entirely different universe where people are still polite, and yes, everything IS bigger. My dad's reply was that you couldn't believe everything people told you. I persisted in my questioning, because I had seen my father give money to beggars before, and he elaborated on his rationalization. You have to use your own instincts he told me. He also pointed out that sometimes a story can be too elaborate.

I have come up with my fair share of rationalizations as well, when approached by panhandlers. I have also given away my fair share of my hard earned money to people with good stories. I have gone and bought food for those who say they are hungry, given cigarettes (and lighters) when I smoked and had nothing else, done u-turns and gone back to share what I had. I remember in a similar Target parking lot, I had just bought food for my dog, and upon leaving I came across a panhandler with a beautiful rottewiller. I stopped and gave him half the food (Purina Moist & Meaty in the plastic pouches--NOT good food btw) and some dog treats. We talked a little and he assured me that the dog always ate, often better than him. You could tell it too.

I was asked for some money the other night so that someone could drive home, they weren't sure they were gonna make it. We were only across the street from a gas station, so I went over with them and put $5 in their tank, which, with gas at $4.42 a gallon on Saipan, wasn't a whole lot. It was a couple, and that was on Wednesday night. Sunday afternoon, when i got out to the surfing spot at Sugar Dock, the female half of that couple spotted me and walked over as I was standing there eying the surf. She asked me some questions in broken English, they didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, but she eventually got to the point of asking me for help again.

I told her no. I don't know where this instinct came from, because she was asking for money to eat with. And I was getting ready to walk around the corner to get food. I was busy trying to make a long distance phone call as well, and I definitely had the thought that I didn't want to set a precedent for being a banker for this woman every time she saw me. I told her no. Then I went and got food, and when I came back, with Taco Bell, she walked over to me and asked me again. Standing in front of her with food in my hand I told her that I wasn't going to help her at that moment. That I had before. That I might again some day. But not right then. She was a little agitated and tried to convince me, and then she just seemed to become calm and she looked at me and said okay, then walked away.

Yes we do have to use our instincts. Sometimes I do feel as if I have been taken advantage of. If I see the same person over and over again, and my help is not being used or accepted, then I may be enabling...but looking at what i've done before, or might do again-I think I was a little off on that idea. Because as my friend says, right now is all we've got. I don't think I should have given her any money, but I could've offered her food. I could have offered her reiki for the lame arm that she keeps covered and cradled at all times. I could have offered her a few minutes of time and not just instinctively brushed her aside and tried to get away from her as quickly as I could. So what-I've done good deeds before, but that's no consolation to her. I don't know why I didn't even offer to help her. I thank my dad for that valuable lesson, just like I thank her for another one. Somehow, they're both right.

wow

2008-05-13T14:10:00.000-04:00

What a great weekend I had...surfing, meeting new people, lots of exercise...so good in fact that it overflowed into Monday!
Although I am pretty relaxed and more or less keeping the faith that everything relating to my job/financial situation will work out, I just received some news that I am processing under the "cause for alarm" tabs in my mind's file cabinet. Add to that a job interview (the 3rd one) at the Hyatt scheduled for an hour from now, and a meeting with a 47 year old Korean man who wants me to help him improve his English...compounded by the fact that I am dressed up, well, dressed up for ME, in a flowery button up shirt with khakis and I shaved his morning so I although I am sitting in an air conditioned coffee shop at the moment, I am still uncomfortable. Might be the caffeine, who knows.
I tend to doubt myself in spite of all indications to the contrary, and the simple knowledge of this does not usually give me any more confidence in my own ability to meet the challenge at hand. In fact, it almost seems as if I grab onto any fact that seems to support my lack of competency and enlarge it in my head, trying to prove to myself that I am unfit for the impending tests. I guess I am talking about ego and higher self here, the ego being the detractor and my higher self "knowing" things but still being swayed by the insistent voice of the ego that decries my best efforts, and has done so since the days of my childhood.

Only on rare occasions has that voice ever metamorphasized into multiple voices, a condition that I used to listen to others describe with skepticism. But having experienced it, I realize that there is nothing anyone can ever experience that I can shake my head at and say, "Not me" without adding the necessary follow-up of "yet". How insistent and incomprehensible must these many voices be inside of someone's head, that they would risk the label of "lunatic" to share this malady with others. It reminds me of the spiritual experience I underwent as a result of an aura clearing and reiki session last year. Although I knew how personal and insane it might sound to others, it was so real that I had to share it regardless of what they thought.

All this runs together and comes out as a singular instruction for relief...just do it. In spite of the fear and doubt, just go do the things that are do-able. So I'm off to another interview, and hopefully it will be a good one.

More of my weekend

2008-05-12T02:10:00.000-04:00

So the waves were plentiful today as well. After finishing up children's classes, I once again headed down to the beach, only this time I biked toward an area called Sugar Dock, which seems to be the main surf spot on the island, as far as a beach break goes. There were plenty of people there, and I ended up meeting new folks, recognizing others whom I'd been introduced to, and doing a little more surfing. It was another great day, and hopefully there will be some surfable waves still coming in for the better part of the day tomorrow. Since I'm without a job, I might as well focus on something!

The Taste of the Marianas food festival is every Saturday night in the month of May, and I went out there with Mark's family last night. I ran into many familiar faces, and ate some great food. It wasn't as lonely an experience as the Flame Tree festival, even though I was at a table of about five couples, because I'm starting to get to know people. The island is small enough that as I am introduced to people, and then meet more people, I am already starting to run into the same folks more than once a day. Appearances are deceiving though, when I first got here it seemed as if there was a very large population of white people, because I saw them out and about everywhere. Whites are actually quite a minority, making up less than 2% of the island's population--approximately 1,500 people. Those are pretty rough numbers, plus a lot of people are leaving, but I realized it as I witnessed how segregated a lot of this group of people is.

I met some neat people: A medical doctor who is also a naturopathic doctor, and his wife and daughter. He also is an avid surfer, paddler, kite boarder, snow boarder, and I don't know what else but I'm sure it involves a board. Actually I don't really feel like describing everyone I met.

I lied last week. In a job interview no less. I told a stupid, inconsequential, meaningless lie and now I am going to have to go back to the resort and tell the manager that I lied to her. During our interview I had mentioned that I just came from Japan, and at one point she asked me how long I had lived there...and my answer of "8 months" just came out. Of course I was trying to impress her with my worldliness, and of course the next thing she said was, "where did you live in Tokyo?" since I had described that as my home--I've never really been anywhere else in Japan so it was a no-brainer. Again, we know where this is going, as she responded with, "I am from Tokyo." and I just died. To make it worse, I realized she has my application, and with a minimal amount of thinking, she can look at my employment history and realize that I haven't been anywhere except the US for quite some time.

I really hate when that happens. It has been a little while since I did something that blatantly deceitful. And I have to go tell her. For a million little reasons I have to man up and admit my lie. And for the main one...lying is wrong. I can still remember that lesson learned at the age of four or five, as I wrote a note to my mom and signed it from my dad. It commandingly suggested that she let me watch Airwolf, the television program I had been told was not allowed. It was quite a good bit of penmanship for a pre-schooler, but my mom wasn't convinced. And lying was explained to be destructive to my soul. I got it, although I had to learn for myself the truth of that statement. Lying is destructive to your soul. Whether it is a silly little lie like mine, or a twist of the truth to a police officer to save you from some inconvenience that you brought on yourself, or a fib that gets given to a co-worker to explain some lapse of mind on your part...whether it's the biggest of big ones or the smallest possible...

it hurts you. It usually hurts someone else too. It might even undermine a friends faith in you, as you describe to them how you were able to yet again manipulate your way around the truth. I realize that my own past dishonesty has made me acutely aware of the same in other people. And although everyone can-and will-change, it is something that once I read in another person's character, it is a hard view to let go of. I know this first-hand, since I have to prove my character all the time as a result of my past. And not everyone is willing to give me another chance at it. But that's a whole 'nother story.

If you would lie a tiny lie like that to that person...what would stop you from telling me a tiny lie? I don't want people that tell tiny lies in my life...just like I don't want to be someone telling tiny lies to others. So tomorrow morning I will ask for my HP's assistance, and go set the record straight. Because if I want honest people in my life, I have to BE an honest person.

SURF'S UP!

2008-05-12T01:25:00.000-04:00

There is a storm somewhere. Somewhere near Saipan. Actually I have a better idea where it is but it means nothing to most of the people reading this except that you know it is not anywhere near me and there is no cause for alarm. If you want to know exactly where it is-west by southwest from Saipan-check it out on the net. But I haven't written in a day and a lot has happened. Let me start at the beginning.

Fortuitously I ran into a man named Mark on Friday evening when I was sitting watching Nuri's swim practice. I first met Mark on the beach on the day before my flight was scheduled to take me back to Tokyo. He was kite-boarding (again google it if you wanna know-it looks awesome!) and ended up getting blown up onto the beach right next to me. I was reading and lying on the beach and I watched him get untangled from the strings and fold his kite up for awhile before I ventured some questions at him. He ended up being extremely friendly, and asked, as everyone does, why I was on Saipan. I shared with him my story, and finished with the information that I was actually trying to make a decision at that very time about should I stay or should I go. (heh heh) We talked some more and he gave me his number and told me to call him if I stayed. Less than two hours later I made the decision to stay here for the next six months.

And so here I was, three weeks later, and seeing him again. We struck up conversation, and he was once again very easy to talk to, and I got a very gentle, easy-going vibe from him. In a few, quick words I will try to describe him. Married with a 13 year old son. Tall, lanky, surfer, yoga practicer/instructor, special-ed (autism!) teacher/educator, previous participation in a Ruhi study circle here...His son and wife were as kind and welcoming when I met them. He told me about the possibility of surf on Saturday and told me to call him.

So after children's classes Saturday morning I did. I rode the bike down to the track to meet the whole family at Kai's track meet. On the way, I stopped and stared out over the usually calm lagoon. Having never seen anything besides the normal beaches of the U.S., it had taken me a little while to realize what I was looking at here in Saipan. There is coral reef all round the island, but on the west side, the reef forms in an almost continuous line at varying distances from the shore, which creates the beautiful lagoons. It also creates a line where the waves break, and for my entire time here, it had been a very gentle break out there, with a minimal amount of white water showing at any time. Much different from a beach on which the waves break at all different times and locations, I was standing at the beach path looking at one solid line of breaking waves, as far as my eyes could see to the North and South. The swells produced by the storm were crashing into the reef, creating an amazing sight, unlike anything i had seen before. I could not keep m face from breaking out into a grin, and I hopped back onto the bike after a few moments of taking it in to hurry on to my rendezvous with Mark, Patty and Kai.

I met them and we went back to their house for the afternoon, because the waves at the surf spots hadn't materialized yet as forecast. Mark and I talked about a lot of things, family, history, beliefs, while sitting outside in his hammocks. Around 3 o'clock we checked the waves again and he made the call to head out to the island of Managaha, a small uninhabited island about a mile away from the beach on the west side of the island at the edge of the lagoon. Some of you may recall, I attempted to walk to it during my first week on Saipan, unsuccessfully. We packed up three boards, and the four of us hipped in the Rav4-which may be the most popular car on the island; they have two of them-and headed to their boat.

The boat was a very small boat, with just enough room for the four of us and the boards. Since there was no promise of anything staying dry I left the camera in the car, unfortunately, because I would have had some amazing, close to magazine quality pictures. At least the magazines I've been seeing around here! Before we ever made it to the island, Kai (the son) spotted a reef break and we headed towards it. They are even bigger up close, and I had more than one moment of trepidation as we idled nearer and nearer to the break. After everyone agreed on the safety of the situation, Kai was the first one out of the boat with his board, paddling toward the waves. I donned scuba fins and a mask with snorkel, which was fine with me because I had no plans on practicing my surf skills over a reef on waves the size of which I was facing.

I won't bore you by describing too much, but if you have ever seen surf videos or even pictures, you have seen the shot taken as a wave crests and starts to create a pipe for the surfers to attempt to shoot. Although there was no pipe, simply being on the face of a wave watching a surfer take off from that type of position...it was so awesome. Even in trying to describe it, I see why surfers talk as they do...because I can't think of a much better word than awesome to describe it. This wave was crashing onto exposed rocks less than 100 yards from us, there was a reef nearby, and we were at least a mile from land. These people were standing up on water and using it...anyways it was awesome.

We got back in the boat and motored over to the break near to the island. This time I was out of the boat and in the water, paddling towards the break. I don't have that much surfing experience. This was probably the fifth or sixth time I've been on a surf board. I stood up on my first wave, and was immediately reminded of the feeling that I got the last time I did that...indescribable elation, tempered with a feeling of peace and ease. We surfed at that break for about half an hour, as the sun set behind the clouds, before the darkness brought an end to the trip. I paddled back to the boat thoroughly exhausted, sore, and anticipating the waves that were to come when the sun rose the next day.

A Baha'i Prayer

2008-05-09T01:20:00.000-04:00

The first time I read this, I was blown away, for a few reasons. Originally because it was in a chapter with the heading 'Instructions', and I know it isn't a universal feeling, but by broad generalization, myself and the people who share some of my past experiences often express the feeling from an early age that we missed out somehow on the instructions to life. I specifically remember thinking that somehow everyone else had gotten the manual, and it was all just a big, cosmic joke on Rio. Religious and spiritual teachers have been passing on instructions as long as man has been thinking, but I myself can only claim to have been thinking for a very short time, and even a shorter time has my thinking been sensible or clear enough to follow said instructions. So I can just say that for some reason, I was ready to heed them and excited to have found some instructions I could follow.

The main reason I was so moved by these words from God (aka Higher Power, or for short HP) is the way this eloquent language not only confirms, but elaborates on the virtues and necessities of happiness and good living that I am coming to recognize as an essential part of my life because of a fellowship and program that shall remain nameless. They are in agreement. One does not negate or argue the other. Sure, as a person I can always try to pick points of dissension, but as a human being with the fundamental truth of a HP inside of me, the instructions laid forth here are in no way contrasting with the instructions that I have learned to give myself to stay sober and serene on a daily basis.

So please, take a moment to calm your mind, because even though it is written like a to do list, it is a prayer revealed by the son of a messenger from God (my beliefs!). These are not my words nor am I in any way responsible for how you feel when you read them. I hope it resonates with some of you like it did with my lovely Liz when I shared it with her. I hope you are filled with joy at reading the word of a Higher Power.

TO LIVE THE LIFE IS: To be of no cause of grief to anyone.

To be kind to all people and to love them with a pure spirit.

Should opposition or injury happen to us, to bear it, to be as kind as ever we can be, and through all, to love the people. Should calamity exist in the greatest degree, to rejoice, for these things are the gifts and favors of God.

To be silent concerning the faults of others, to pray for them; and to help them, through kindness, to correct their faults.

To look always at the good and not at the bad. If a man has ten good qualities and one bad one, look at the ten and forget the one. And if a man has ten bad qualities and one good one, to look at the one and forget the ten.

Never to allow ourselves to speak one unkind word about another, even though that other be our enemy.

To do all our deeds in kindness.

To sever our hearts from ourselves and from the world.

To be humble.

To be servants of each other, and to know that we are less than anyone else.

To be as one soul in many bodies; for the more we love each other, the nearer we shall be to God; but to know that our love, our unity, our obedience must not be by confession, but of reality.

To act with cautiousness and wisdom.

To be truthful.

To be hospitable.

To be reverent.

To be a cause of healing for every sick one, a comforter of every sorrowing one, a pleasant water for every thirsty one, a heavenly table for every hungry one, a star to every horizon, a light for every lamp, a herald to everyone who yearns for the kingdom of God.

---‘Abdu’l-Baha'

(Who is pictured above)

good days

2008-05-07T08:47:00.000-04:00

My first tutoring client is finished up...his parents decided that we were going to take away too much playtime doing it during the week, and she did assure me that it wasn't because of anything i did, but she wants to wait until the summer to start with him. She promised to give me a call once he got out of school in a month.

One of the neighbors got a little boonie puppy. Very cute. Very big responsibility. Crying outside my door at 3 am. The landlord just got rif of all the roosters...now I got a crying puppy.

The other neighbors are moving soon, and so he has been offering me a look at his possessions pre-garage sale. Which is cool I need some basic stuff like pots, pans, sillverware, etc...

Ants have invaded my bread. Tossed it out. They already got my berry surprise cereal. Hopefully the Cheerios are still ok since I hadn't opened them yet...but that's no guarantee.

I had an interview the other day at another resort. It was for a massage position. I am currently the only applicant, they are waiting a few more days and hoping they'll get at least one more. If I get the job, I'll be the only non-Filipino, non-woman working as a masseuse. Minimum wage (4.05 as of May 28th) but benefits and free meals when on the clock. 36 hours a week guaranteed, possibly more depending, plus I guess we get tips. The work load is distributed over 6 days though, 6 hours per day. Only thing is, that 6 hours can be spread out anyway over the day from the hours of 10 am till midnight. So I could have to go in at noon for two hours, then come back at 8 for the last 4. Hmmmm....

Anyways I felt really great and fulfilled after working with Nathaniel. It is that wonderful feeling of doing something for someone else, plus "going to work" always can make me feel useful.

Okay I'm out of time at the internet cafe. Love the person next to you.

P.S. The LSA of Charlotte just contacted me via e-mail to let me know that the NSA restored my administrative rights!

English Tutor

2008-05-06T20:30:00.000-04:00

A lot has happened since the middle of the day yesterday when I wrote my last blog. I met with a mother of two, who works at an eye clinic where the first baha'i/contact I met on Saipan practices, and we talked about me tutoring her son, Nathaniel. She had actually dismissed me as a possibility and even told me that she was going to use someone else, before I mentioned that I knew Dr. Khorram. Her son also attends Brilliant Star school, a Montessori school I believe, founded by Dr. Khorram and his wife (again more hearsay). So the little bit of validation of my character went a long ways toward making her comfortable with considering me for a tutor. That, plus I re-thought my original rate quote of $20 and hour, and dropped it to $10, taking a cue from my mother, I realized that in this initial start-up phase I will be learning as I go and my rates should reflect that curve.

Meanwhile, right before meeting her I received a phone call from my friend Brian (see blog/picture below for more on him), telling me that Liz was in the hospital. That she had passed out and stopped breathing and her heart had stopped. They revived her and she was extremley sick, but in the hospital currently. Then my pre-paid minutes ran out on my phone. And it died. By the time I got a new card and Brian's phone number it had been an hour...of wondering and worrying. I had already done the mental inventory of the necessary steps to catch a plane back to Charlotte, even though that would be a twenty hour trip, and I can't imagine being able to sleep while being that worried. Helpless.

Once I got Brian to answer my call, he told me that she was being released from the hospital. She was alive. It was after midnight Charlotte time, so I never spoke to Liz, but I did talk with Brian for a good while. He filled me in on the various happenings and it was very enjoyable. We ended our conversation and I found the home of Nathaniel for my first meeting with him. I had stopped by the library and picked up a couple easy reader books. I arrived at the house prior to his mother returning home from work, but the housekeeper let me in and introduced me to Nathaniel and his sister Abbey. I sat and talked with them for about five minutes just trying to get an idea of what he liked. At first he was so shy and soft-spoken that I could hardly understand a word he said. He tended to look away as he was talking, something I know I do often. But he spoke English reasonably well, for a seven year old, and his sister, who at eleven, was apparently the one really worried about him, was obviously very intelligent as well. So he and I took a seat at the table and I pulled out The Ugly Duckling and asked him to read it to me.

He just needs someone to read with him on a consistent basis. He has trouble pronouncing "r" and "l", almost like Chinese people do, only he is Filipino. His "r" sounds like mine did when I was near his age. As he read, he continuously guessed what the next word was based upon the context of the sentence, the letters he saw first, and the pictures. One sentence read something like: "...all his brothers and sisters." but when Nathaniel read it he said: "...all his [pause] siblings!" That was the most profound expression of his intelligence, but he repeatedly pulled words out of a seemingly large vocabulary, even though they weren't usually relevant to the story. I was impressed and surprised by his smarts.

His mother talked with me a little bit about what was fair to me and affordable to her. I'm going to see him on Monday, Wednesday & Friday at 5 pm for approximately an hour each time. It should be a whole lot of fun. And maybe more students will present themselves to me as time goes on.

I spoke with Liz finally late night for me, early morning for her. If you know her, and feel like it, call her and wish her well, I know some of you already have. Don't call her and ask her questions that make her tell the story again...she doesn't need that. If any of you have ever come close to death, or had an experience that was near-death, you may have an idea of they after effects and change in your thinking that follow such an event. It can be quite an upheaval. Thank you to all my friends who continue to love each other and support each other. If we don't have that real love and charity, what do we really have to give?

The Beach

2008-05-04T22:03:00.000-04:00

The interesting part of these blogs is the time delay. Even though I have informed Google that I am in the Northern Marian Islands, and that my time zone is GMT +10, they still post these as Western US Time. Case in point, it is is noon on Monday, May 5th here. My post time says that it is 7 pm on May 4th. So I am technically a day behind on my posting, but if i change it then the program schedules it ahead rather than posting it with the correct time. Interesting. I guess I've had to face bigger problems than outwitting a server's time clock.

Sunday was HOT! I went to children's classes at Jamal & Regula's, but the only older child was Nuri, their son, and so he and I sort of deviated from the lesson. As in, we didn't do any of it. I'm sure he probably will think back to that day, and tag it as the beginning of his moral decline. Fortunately, after classes, he went with his mother to do a home visit to Isabel and Joe, a nice Filipino couple who were at the Ridvan celebration and are very receptive to talk of the Faith. I offered Joe some reiki, because he had a growth removed from his nostrils right around the time I got here, and it still is bleeding and hasn't healed yet. I told him to just ask me and I would be glad to do it. His response was positive, in that he understood what I was describing as a type of "spiritual healing", and "what's the harm in that?" was his thought on it. But he never actually asked me to do it for him, and so when Regula was leaving to go over to their hosue, I declined to come, telling her that I was going to do other things. She really wanted me to come, and tried to explain to me that it isn't culturally acceptable to ask for things like that here. We went back and forth a little, and I stuck to my point that it was offered, and that was as far as I was willing to go with it right now. Maybe I'll change my mind as time passes. I did find out that there is another Reiki Master on the island, and she is having a level one class very soon. She is charging the students $60 and I think it is a six hour class. Interesting...

But after the morning classes, it was getting close to mid-day, and the bike ride back to my apartment was uphill. Wow! I made it, but not without getting off the bike and walking at one point. The sweat made it hard to keep my hands on the handlebars at times, and the driving on this island doesn't always make for the most encouraging bike riding experience. So once I got back to the apartment, I was ready to take a break. I had received two calls regarding English tutoring fliers that I posted two weeks ago, and I tried to call both numbers, but nobody answered at either. So I decided to take a hike down to the bay.

The night before, a new acquaintance had divulged the location of a secret beach, not far from my apartment. I wasn't sure of the terrain, so I decided against allowing Thunder to come along; taking just a towel and wearing board shorts and flip-flops I set off. It was a short walk to the landmark, a side road climbing into the jungle on my left, and I began to scan the right side of the gravel road for the surveyors flagging. I immediately spotted it, twenty feet up a sheer embankment and across a five foot wide ditch. Maybe it's just my old age, but i decided that there must be an easier way, and kept heading down the road. Eventually the embankment flattened out and I was able to get on the trail that had been described. It was pretty recently cut in some places, with relatively bright pink flagging tied at regular intervals as it wound it's way deeper in to the jungle. The trail wound back and forth and as I clambered over volcanic rocks (read: sharp!) I was glad I'd left Thunder to lay in his shade. I was skirting the base of a sheer cliff, and making turns that would defy the straight lines and angles that surveyors require for long sightings, so I'm not really sure what the trail was for originally, or who marked it. I finally reached an old dirt road, after pushing a peck of wild chickens for a hundred feet or so, I reached some very large rocks. But the breeze couldn't disguise the proximity of the sea, and so I hopped down into the ravine, and in a minute I was standing at the end of the canyon, at the head of a small, coral covered beach.

From cliff to cliff, the beach was about 100 feet wide at the ocean, with foliage and trees covering the tops of the adjacent abutments. It was indeed isolated, and I waded out into the water for a ways, I could see the better known beach far to my left, across the bay. I waded around for a while, but it didn't take me long to cut my foot on something, glass, coral, rock, and so I washed it out an returned to the beach, to lay in the sun. There's something about being on isolated beaches that lends itself to my general attitude of as few clothes as possible, and so pretty soon I was short-less and lying prostrate on the sand. Of course I was aware that this could be disastrous, but only if I stayed out too long, and that was not going to...

You know how you open your eyes, like when you used to be in school, and think, was I asleep?
Well yeah, that's what happened. So I turned over. See, told you I had a plan. Soon something suggested that I reclaim my trunks and head on in. So after a little more splashing around in the sea water, I gathered all my belongings and headed back into the jungle. It took about ten minutes to make my way along the trail back to the main gravel road, and then another five up to the apartment. It will probably be a shoe or boot clad trek next time, the uneven ground makes for an easy sprain or even scrapes on the ankle from the rocks. Thunder was glad to see me, and I spent a minute rubbing his belly, but I could feel the heat starting to radiate off of my body. Mainly the back of my knees and lower legs, and my shoulders. Fortunately, I am used to the cold water showers, and most of the time they feel very good. Of course i used the Melaleuca gel, btw I'm almost out if someone wants to send more, and today it's all good. Now I'm going to meet someone about English tutoring for her son. See if I can win her over, even though I have no education background.

Twelfth Day of Ridvan

2008-05-04T02:52:00.000-04:00

Today there was a celebration of the Twelfth Day of Ridvan, a Baha’i holy day which falls on May 2^nd. The festival of Ridvan marks the time when Baha’u’llah, the prophet and founder of the Baha’i Faith, proclaimed to all the assembled followers of his fore-runner The Bab that he was the promised one who had been foretold, not only by The Bab, but by other messengers of God as well, like Christ and Muhammad. I’m sharing all this because although I am 100% sure that I knew that already, I feel like I am re-learning a lot of things when I present them to the children I am being blessed to interact with as I help teach children’s classes. It reaffirms my belief that I learn more about a subject as I teach it to others, as opposed to being “schooled” on it myself. I have found this true in other activities, like Reiki. And the steps. The repetition of the knowledge contained within these types of processes releases almost like a timed capsule, letting more and more out as I continue using it.

It was a small group of people, with the children outnumbering the adults. Three families in attendance were Baha’is, out of the five that I have met. The other adults were parents of children in the classes or friends. We also picked up a group of children from the village who come to children’s classes sporadically, as far as I can tell. These kids, as well as a lot of the other ones too, are pretty shy around me. It’s getting a little better with some of them as they see me more than once, and I’m starting to develop relationships with them as I remember their names and talk with them a little. We enjoyed searching for shells and other treasures on the beach. A couple of the children found crab shells. One of the local boys and I searched for skipping stones and spent our time skipping rocks across the relatively calm cove.

Prior to the beach combing, we had a short “play” where the children gave the audience the basic idea of the purpose of Ridvan-which was what the garden was named where Baha’u’llah revealed his purpose, it means paradise-and passed out the tissue paper roses we spent the past few weeks making and sang some songs. And of course, we ate wonderfully. They have a local sweet potato that is purple. Someone made a huge bowl of mashed, purple sweet potatoes…interesting! But a wonderful day!

Since some of you may not now, I rented an apartment this week. It is a spacious two bedroom place with a large living room, kitchen and bathroom. It’s one of three on the second floor of a building, where the bottom floor is actually the home of the owners. Their family owns much of the land around this building, which just happens to be along a wonderful gravel road that has an amazing scenic view as you travel down it. Runners travel from all over the island to use the road for the routes. I drove it partially when Carmen was here, it leads to a beach at Lau Lau Bay, and rightly so since it is named Lau Lau Bay Drive. The map actually shows the bay as Lao Lao, that’s probably right. But I walked a ways down the road on Friday evening when I came home around 5 pm. I had already asked the landlord if I could take their dog with me when I went, and she said that would be great. They have a gangly black dog that looks like a five month old lab puppy. I’m not sure about the age, and it is doubtful that he is fully lab, but he has a sweet demeanor, and does not fit his name yet-Thunder. We set out and although he did a fair amount of going ahead, jumping up on my side and criss-crossing in front and behind of me, I was pretty impressed by his ready acquiescence to my wishes and commands. He walked along side me for the majority of the trip, which turned in to an hour long walk down the road until I found the first definite path to the beach, and then we walked as far along that as we could. I didn’t take him off the chain I was using as a leash, because he spends his time chained up outside, but mainly because I didn’t want to have to explain to my landlord why their Thunder was now a boonie dog when he didn’t obey me. I got the feeling that he is extremely intelligent, with that same eager-to-please quality that I am blessed to see in so many dogs. He just needs a little time to realize that I am one of the people he wants to please, a process that will take some time and lots of walks, especially since I don’t provide the food or water that cements a dog’s loyalty to its master. When we got back, Henry told me that was the first time that Thunder had ever been walked! I have permission to take him whenever I want, and I’m looking forward to getting Thunder to follow me into the ocean soon. There was one very strange thing that I noticed. During our hour long walk, Thunder never peed or pooped once. He’s not fixed, and there was a period where he exhibited the signs of smelling around and circling like he was about to do something, but he never did it. I watched him after I chained him back up, and he did pee eventually. He sometimes pees a little bit from the excitement of seeing a person walk towards him. And although I would do every thing possible to avoid chaining up a dog outside, he has a doghouse, he has owners that care for and nourish him, and now he has me to go for walks with. He sure is a scrawny thing though. I’ll take some pictures of him soon. Pictures of the apartment are already up. I need to get settled in and unpacked (good luck!) so that I can invite some people over and have dinner.

I did something really neat today after the Ridvan celebration, but I think I’ve written enough for now. It’s just past midnight on Saturday, now Sunday morning my time, which by the way is the same as Australia time (GMT+10) which means it is 10:20 am Saturday morning on the east coast. I won’t get to post this until I get up later…thanks for reading.

today

2008-05-03T00:05:00.000-04:00

I did my best to be accepting of the decidedly slower pace that everyone takes here on Saipan. As it has been presented to me, "island time" probably moves at about the same breath-taking shuffle on islands all around the world.
"Relax man, you're on island time now!"
Which is fine by me. I was born on an island. People have always thought I looked like I belonged on an island. I prefer the dressed-down appearance found on islands: board shorts and flip-flops, with shirt optional. I always thought that I would end up on an island. Well looky here! I'm on one. And everything is chill and relaxed, it's great! Except for one thing. I need a job. So go get one you say...yes, that's a good idea. Why didn't I think of that? You're a genius! Now, get ready for my excuses. (Just to warn you, I'm about to sound like a recently released drug addict explaining all the reasons why life is not fair and no one will hire them!)
The minimum wage here is currently $3.55 an hour, and that's an improvement, because they just raised it by fifty cents a few months back. It will go up again at the end of May to $4.05 an hour, which, if your math is a little shabby, translates to a whooping $162 per forty-hour work week, before taxes. Which is another subject, taxes ARE less here, but I don't have figures on that yet so I'm not going to rant on that currently. The issue is further complicated by the fact that the economy is doing so badly, that many businesses are shortening their work weeks, working only 32 hours. But let's say I land a job that wants me there for 40 full hours each week, and let's assume they take somewhere around 15% for taxes (???). This means that my minimum wage job will pay me a grand monthly total of approximately $550. Not an extravagant amount, but not a problem you say, since you're on an island and everything must be cheaper to go along with the lazy service that is always running on island time...RIGHT?
Wrong again sir! It's an ISLAND. Which means, get ready for this, it is surrounded by water. On all sides. Not just a little bit o' water either. So the only things that are cheaper on THIS island, are the coconuts, the betel nuts, the nuts and bolts, and boonie dogs. Especially boonie dogs with nuts. So basically, it's cheaper to rent a home. It's cheaper to get insurance (automobile)--i'm not sure exactly why that is, I think the insurance agents may actually be a native form of fungus that grows in caves, so its plentiful--and it's cheaper...no that's about it. Everything else is AS expensive, or MORE expensive, than everywhere I've ever been. What does any of this have to do with a job you ask?
Obviously not a damn thing. But I am trying to paint a picture here. And like Bob Ross, sometimes I work on the little trees in the distance before I get to the bigger trees in the foreground. So have a little patience!
I have been applying at many places around the island. Let me list them. McDonald's. What the hell is right! That should be the end of the list! I'd like to think that McDonald's was pretty much a guaranteed one to fall back on if ever there was a dire need. Apparently, they've tightened up their hiring policy...and since I don't carry a handgun, I can't work there. No I didn't apply at Mickey D's. I've applied at (almost) all of the resorts on the island. I've been to the Port of Saipan and the docks where the commercial tourist boats go out. I've applied at the airport to be one of those people who searches your bag, for no other purpose than to make it impossible to zip up again. I talked with some people at the public school system and also the biggest water park in the Pacific! They said it, not me. Seems like the Pacific IS the biggest water park, but whatever. I've received calls. I've even had interviews. Starting two weeks ago in fact. I've interviewed with one place twice already, and have a third interview coming up...some day. If that one goes well there will be a fourth interview. Around the time I am unable to afford anything but car insurance, I may actually get hired. I am really looking forward to it. These nuts are getting a little repetitive. So the lesson-it was suggested to me by an objective, well kinda objective, person-is that I need to learn this slow it down island time mentality. It has been a long time since I didn't just go and go. I am, admittedly, in constant motion, rarely taking more than a few moments each day to slow it all down. So I'm going to make island time, rio time. And see what happens.

depression

2008-05-02T01:34:00.000-04:00

I tell the assembled that I don’t lapse into depression; that I have never dealt with that incomprehensible enemy so many people are wont to claim. The diagnoses abound, and the description is bantered about among all types of speakers, in so many conversations. Really? Have I never felt this sinking touch in my chest before? It defies description; it is so cold and formless, right here to be felt, yet existing beyond a description that my language has words for. A shape-no, I would have to make one up. Colorless, because blackness is not the essence, although black hole might be true, for it seems to swallow my vision as I try to examine it. The sheer weight of it hangs heavy in my thoracic cavity, and I can point to it, but yet I know that it is not really there. It is precisely my inability to describe it that is so unnerving, for the speechlessness makes me feel as if I don’t know myself, even as I know that is not true. It is haunting; a feeling that can be seen vaguely by those near me, that I know is visible to all, yet when the question is put forth, what am I to say? Nothing can be said that makes the tiniest ounce of sense, in fact the descriptions are more likely to leave others looking at me askance, murmuring their apologies as they excuse themselves, casting glances back at me and the aura which surrounds me. How did it get so big that all in the room can see? Where does it come from…stealthily creeping in unseen, entrenching itself like an enemy soldier in a foxhole, preparing for a battle. Yet it doesn’t sit and wait, it grows. It chokes. It darkens and deadens the air all around. The air I breathe. The air I see. The resonance of my words even sounds hollower. Sunlight becomes harder and harder to bear. Night time is no better, because the dark breeds the dark. An oversized knot never leaves my throat, and no amount of swallowing or spitting can free this passageway from its grasp. I choke down…what? Sadness? Despair? Absolute submission and defeat? How do I make it stop? Can I? Then it takes control of my thoughts and points them towards the darkest reaches of my mind. Maybe it is cancer, and I am dying. Or maybe there is something else wrong with me, something more fundamental…maybe I am crazy. Insane. Feeble-minded and weak of resolve.
All this is extreme, but it is as close as I can come to describing the tiny, brief glimpses I have had into the soul-sickness so commonly referred to as depression. Maybe it is clinical, maybe medicine can help it. I don’t know. I do know that I am so glad that these feelings have always been relatively brief, and have never lasted any significant time, for me. They have come to me in different times of my life, at different junctures, sometimes unexpected, often right on time. I felt it tonight, following, of all things, a study of spiritual writings with a new friend here on the island. It shook tears loose from my eyes, it made me want to curl up in a ball, it made me want to call my father and ask for his help and-god damn it-it made me hate myself. More than anything else it always makes me mad at myself! So all I could think of was sitting down and writing this out. I played some music as I wrote, and at the beginning of this paragraph, a song started which always uplifts me. (It’s #8 on the first cd I made you Liz) and it did not fail this time. I can’t believe how quickly it exposed my spiraling thinking as the perpetuating cause of my own depression.
“when its cold outside, there’s no need to worry, cuz I’m so warm inside, you give me peace, when the storm’s outside, cuz we’re in love I know, it’ll be alright, alright yes alright”
It is the song that touched my soul and gave me that moment of clarity so often alluded to-it’s the song that made me realize I had to change my life. I heard it for the first time on May 7^th, 2006.
Regardless, of what did it, it was gone. And I am reminded how amazingly blessed I am to not have to fight this battle on a more regular basis. To all of my friends who face feelings like this, know that YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Thank you for all you’ve ever shared with me about your lives.
Lastly, I am as I should be. Please don’t worry too much. I am just going through a natural process, (i believe) that involves assimilating myself into a new place with new people. I'll be thinking of you all often. And everything WILL be alright.

friends

2008-05-01T01:55:00.000-04:00

i am listening to one of my closest friends, via the wonder of the internet and digital recorders, as I sit in a coffee shop in Saipan. He spoke last Friday evening in North Carolina, and I am just now sitting down and listening to it. He's doing a good job so far.
When did he become such a good friend? I don't know. I do know that I was resentful at him. I do know that I broke the unwritten rule between boys with him. I do know that I visited him daily during a period that would not be described as one of my greatest, and he served me alcohol as a requirement of his job.
I know that he watched as all of his friends in our fellowship as they left him alone. I have stood by him as he tried to be strong for his best friend. We have shared many things, and I don't know that either one of us could tell you when I started calling him one of my closest friends. or why.
how do you end up with the friends you have? why do so many people that you were sure at the time were gonna be with you forever fade off into the mists of our past? why can't the people who I want to stay in touch with want to stay in touch with me? why don't they reciprocate the love i feel for them? why can't i see where the present pain my relationships are causing me today will lead me?
and so i have to embody the virtues of love, friendship, fairness, and every thing that i want in my relationships as i deal with others. ideally, i cannot pick and choose WHO i get to practice these virtues with. I cannot only be a good friend to the ones who are kind to me, i must do it ALL THE TIME, with every one.
because love doesn't cause pain. it doesn't hurt others. so how can i be loving while my actions are DIRECTLY in conflict with the well being of my close friends.
the truth is that i have, and am still today, always been doing my best. and there's always room for improvement. and always room for those friends to come back to me. and always, always a place for me to go to another, and say:
I was wrong.
I know i can do better, and I will.
and then i do...because there is no point in aiming for progress. We aim for perfection, knowing that it WILL be as perfect as we could be at that time.
and that is progress.
thank you for being my friend brian.

Observations

2008-04-30T02:00:00.000-04:00

this was an email in response to my dad's question of what it sounds/smells like here

the 7 pm meeting is held 5 nights a week in the Susupe Community Church on Beach Road. Beach runs along the western side of the island from the heart of the tourist district in Garapan, all the way to south tip of the island, where it turns east and leaves the final resorts behind for the reality of the villages and the shops that make up the majority of the island.
the drive has become routine, and some nights it is a trip made on bicycle, although I've realized that the bicycle disallows the all important fellowship that comes from giving others rides.
the sun sets right around this time, and there is a few minutes, most evenings, of perfect climate, wherein the heat source has dipped below the unending expanse of the Philippine Sea, and the breeze is moving just right. it carries with it the smells of restaurants of all different types as they cater to the dwindling tourist market. the road is lined with vehicles as people finish their days before the never-ending inspiration of the sun setting over the ocean. Some gather in groups, guffawing and slapping each others backs. children run along the wide sidewalk that serves as a bike trail and running path between the busy road and the serene ocean. tables and benches are occupied by pairs, sometimes women out on an evening walk. sometimes partners doing the same, or just lying together on their backs, letting the last rays of our sun burn out over them. there are others like me, who stop, solitary, looking out over an ocean, towards a foreign land. i can only assume they are feeling as i am the gentle caress of the wind across my face, audible in the waves rythym against the shore, heard as much as felt, since the eyes have to be shielded from the brilliant star as it dutifully makes its continuous trek from east to west. i think that as it sets here, it hasn't quite yet risen there. you still have a half hour or so before you will see its shining face...soon, as the days lengthen there will come a moment when we will be simultaneously on opposite sides of the coin...as my day ends so shall yours begin. but as the night creeps into saipan, the lights do come on and the trip to wherever I am going continues.

For the dogs' sake...

2008-04-28T02:30:00.000-04:00

I would like to clarify my first post about the boonie dogs.
Although there are many boonie dogs on this island, roaming around and generally looking disheveled, there is an abundance of love and loyalty for man's best friend no lesser here than any other peopled place.
The next day after that post I witnessed two separate fathers and sons bring their respective dogs/puppies to the ocean and try to teach them to swim. AKA drag them into the water and tell them to like it. Whatever. But here's the thing-the dog's allowed it. They quite obviously loved and respected their owners.
I have some boonie dog pics but I haven't got them up on flickr yet.
if you don't know, my flickr site is
http://www.flickr.com/photos/bigbrorio/
you can view the pics without an account (yahoo)
but ya need one to comment
love the person next to you today.

Alone in a crowd

2008-04-27T00:25:00.000-04:00

Dusk.
At the end of a sweat-soaked weekend day, the sun finally gives up its domed kingdom to Luna, and the stretching shadows merge into darkness. I am particularly bothered by the headlights of the autos traveling towards me, as I repeatedly have to squint, a sure sign that my being needs more rest than it has been allowed lately. No, not lately. Ever. Than it has been allowed, EVER.
This is my choice though, as the borrowed mountain bike makes navigating the crowds and the less-than two mile distances much more efficient than an auto. On this bike, on this night, the line of brake lights ahead do not mean stop ahead, as I coast by on the shoulder of the two-lane beach road.
The lines of traffic are caused by the pedestrian crosswalks, which are manned by teen-agers with whistles and light-sticks, for Saipan is hosting an arts festival this weekend. The groups of people trekking toward the site make for minor obstacles as I weave around both traffics and enter the gravel lots. The relenting of the sun has allowed the dust to begin to settle, and for a moment I'm allowed a reprieve from the day's heat. almost immediately I come up against the heat being generated by the crowds of people, and my repast vanishes.
The noise alone from that many people is a stifling temperature of itself; a symphony of people each adding their own little notes in an attempt to cause an avalanche somewhere in Alaska. Children run, sometimes chasing, sometimes eluding, although as I watch I realize that they do not know which they are doing anymore than I. Groups of teenage boys march together, and I catch some of their eyes as we pass, some return my nod, others glower. The gangsta look prevails here as well as any other place in the mainland of the U.S., straight-billed ball caps, do-rags, and colorful patterned tops are in abundance. I watch some of these groups, and witness the leader step forward, as well his posse closes ranks around him, but not in front of him, as the groups approach the crowded concourse of the festival. The places are recognized, even assigned sub-consciously, and these young men are picking their roles in life's journey as surely as if they filled out a questionnaire honestly. We enter the fairgrounds together, to the right of the stage, and as my crowd of people draws even with the first tower of speakers, the drums tempo intensifies, as if welcoming us to the show. The male voice is chanting, singing in a language so unintelligible, yet familiarly beautiful that I can immediately picture an intimate circle playing out this same song and dance, in a time come and gone before my birth. Although the rythym calls to me, I must first make a visit to one of the booths further away, almost at the back of the fairway, where I have been attempting to commission a personalized shirt for a friend.
The crowd is not as large tonight, it almost seems as if many have stayed away because of the hundreds who visited the festival on the prior two nights. There is ample space to walk along without the constant press of bodies, and look at the booths and the wares being displayed by these local craftsfolk. Coming towards me are the faces of a people regularly unseen in the land where I come from, although they are faces in which I see my brothers and sisters. Most often I am looking upon Chamorros, descended from a culture native to the Marianas Islands, who have mixed with Carolinians, Fijians, Japanese, Spanish and Germans, to name but a few, without ever losing their dark, beautiful skin color. There are Korean and Japanese, some as tourists, some as inhabitants of the island, and by no means the only representatives of Asia I encounter. Caucasians are a minority, although not an oddity, but the climate of Saipan doesn't allow them to adhere to their descriptive misnomer of "white" people. Some are red from the sun like me, mostly the few who appear to be visiting Americans-which is an amazingly easy thing to spot once you go to other places because we Americans do have a "look" about us-but much more plentiful are the locals who hold some sort of degree of tan on their paler skins. Many of them are grouped in families with children of beautiful appearance, clearly adopted and reared as their own, which is an increasingly common occurrence among new friends during my travels. In short, I am submerged in an ocean of colors and appearances as I meander through the open field eying the many different local handicrafts on display.
Good news at my destination, the artist is in and he agrees to my personalized request. I pay him a mere fifteen dollars for the tee-shirt and the screen printing he is going to do. Although I continue to search the booths as I make my way back towards the stage, I determine that unless one specific totem appears to me, I won't spend any more tonight.
The drums had stopped, emcees had talked, full darkness had fallen and the drums had started again. The tone of the voice speaking into the microphone was rising, and so I returned to the outer reaches of the crowd to discover the cause. What I saw was so naturally unnatural that you have to see it to really feel what I am about to describe. If you have seen it then you will know. Polynesian fire-dancers had taken the stage, and they twirled batons lit on each end as the drums and chanting called out their moves.
If you don't understand think of this. Have you never sat at a campfire, and looked at a person five or so feet from you, and realized how amazingly lit-up their being is by the flames? You have an inkling then, of the impression that fire makes when associated with a physical body. Seeing a person standing, without clothes or any other outer protection, even though they are immobile, with fire grasped in their hands...the spinning, the throwing, the skills with the torches are amazing, but not as much for me as the raw power that emanated from these dancers as they performed on that stage. 'Playing with fire' has taken on a new meaning for me.
The rest of this evening was enjoying the food and looking at the stars. Wonderful, but not the point of mind that got me started on this post. I walked through the crowds alone tonight. I stood and watched something amazing, and I felt energy all around me, but I still chose to feel lonely. and it has been like that, throughout my life. I can remember being in Texas at fifteen, walking around at rodeos, football games and a fourth of July celebration, lonely. I lay in a bed on the 4th of July in 1998, with over twenty other men who were being detained and felt alone. I have been to Christmas parties and Thanksgiving dinners where I was as morose as if I had dined solitary. The list goes on and on, repetitive in all my initial memories. Why do I feel so alone? For a person who can make friends with so many people, why? I don't expect people to just walk up to me and say, Hey you look cool, let's be friends. But why do I scoff at my own inability to do exactly that? I call myself names, pummel my mental being because I won't just walk up to a perfect stranger and say hi. Why? I am creating a feeling of alone by telling myself that I am somehow less than other people, that I am not as good as others would be in my similar situation. Ridiculous. So I relaxed. Intuitively I know that as far as any mental change would happen to me, I must first relax mt physical being. My terseness shows to all those who care to look. Once I felt physically relaxed, I owned the feelings. Not a hard thing to do. I chose to leave all my loved ones, hence i am alone. I don't really want to try to meet a bunch of new people tonight, hence I am alone. I am sitting here talking to myself in my own mind, but the things that are being said are a composite of thousands of volumes, conversations, expositions and knowledge gleaned from the universe. The universe that is me. And all of you. So how can I ever be alone? When there is a universe inside of me, that is also inside of all of you, and it talks to me, then I must acknowledge how wonderfully connected I am with everything around me. But enough of that, I was still standing alone, and now hours later, there has been no one to touch me, no voice to say good night, no tail to wag upon my arrival, I am sitting in front of this computer alone. It just occurred to me that blogs aren't usually this long when I've read others'. It all makes sense though. I am what I believe I am. If I want to be alone, and sometimes I do, then I am. If I try to fill myself physically with another person, or people, to combat that loneliness, I am only human, but it is still in vain. When I decide to stop feeling alone, I will be able to sit in a crowd, and feel as if the life is flowing through me, and not all around me. I am NOT alone, I never have been. All those remembrances of lonely events, contain in them some sense of awe and wonderment, not at first recalled, but always there, as a gentle current, carrying my life along.

Expectations

2008-04-25T00:51:00.000-04:00

As I sit here trying to come up with my first post, which will no doubt be looked back upon as one of the defining moments in the twenty-first centuries literary history, I find myself at a rare loss for words. It's not that I have nothing to say. It's that I have so much to say. I feel like a puppy trying out it's legs in the first weeks of life. I am sure to fall any moment. I can't even tell if my eyes are open yet. But I am pretty sure that my mother has left the box, and for the time being, I am on my own. If I was more than the metaphorical reference to a dog, I would probably pee, step in some poop, and climb on top of one of my siblings. However comforting that may be for a puppy, I do not have that option available to me at the present moment. So I shall begin...
The island of Saipan has no shortage of dogs. They are everywhere, wandering about, unencumbered by leashes, collars, and the other trappings we humans use to mark these faithful animals as our property. The dogs that I see quite often are lacking not only the appearance of homes, but they are haggard and skinny, their bright pink tongues lolling out of their heads and proclaiming their thirst for all to see. they are commonly referred to as "boonie" dogs.
I'm not sure why they are called boonie dogs. Did someone mean to say bony, and somehow it all has been confused for so long that it stuck? The dogs I speak of are not limited to the "boonies", they hang out on the sides of busy streets, and at the entrances to the local corner marts, so I'm not sure that is it either. Why then, are they called boonie dogs?
Let me first make sure that you understand what type of dog I am referring to. Boonie dogs sleep in a manner that makes you wonder if they aren't dead where they lay. Breathing is quite often imperceptible, and even loud shouts of "hey boonie dog!" does not illicit any response. Boonie dogs rarely move quickly, preferring to turn almost as a horse does, swiveling it's entire body on some imaginary axis in between it's front and hind quarters. If one had the inkling, it would be entirely feasible to sneak up behind a boonie dog, tap it on the rear, and then move with it as it turned, preventing it from ever actually getting a good look at you. (Note: Do not try this with afore-mentioned horses...they will kick you.) The same lack of energy is demonstrated by a boonie dog that has found its way into the road. Boonie will quite often look at you with absolutely no intention of moving as you bear down upon it. Along the gravel road to my current residence, the boonie dogs combine these traits. They lay in the path of my car, as if dead, immobile and unconcerned with my approaching radials. They simply do not move! It is up to me to go around them. I suppose I could try touching them with a tire, but they usually lay in the ruts, so it wouldn't be a very accurate trial. If there is no way around them, than continuous honking of the car horn accompanied with shouted insults will make these boonies (there's two of them) slowly raise their heads, glare at me, then drag themselves upright so that they can amble out of my way at a leisurely pace. This is repeated all over the island.
You are probably wondering "What does a boonie dog look like?". As near as I can tell, someone brought a German Shepherd here long ago. It must've been lonely, so someone got it a dachshund to play with. (You know a wiener dog.) Or it could've been a beagle, who knows. The results are dogs of varying sizes, with strange unnatural characteristics. Or, as we all lovingly refer to them, mutts. They aren't all small mutant looking shepherds, I have seen a few that resemble yellow Labradors. But island-wide, I haven't seen a single dog that I would describe as 'stout'. All the boonies are lanky, but lacking in muscle tone and definition.
I don't want to misconstrue these dogs physical abilities. As I found out, they are still dogs, and some of them, especially the ones who have homes, can move pretty quickly when motivated. Motivation arrives in the form of me pedaling by on a bicycle! It is always fun when I turn onto a street, and see ahead of me, anywhere from 10 to 30 dogs just standing around looking boonie-ish. The best plan I've come up with so far is to ride straight at them, since they're usually standing in the road. Usually that confuses them. Of course, it's never the ones in the road you really have to worry about. The chaser usually comes flying out of a yard already barking and traveling at full speed as he closes in on your lower legs. I have heard from my runner friends that this scene is repeated against them as well, sans bicycle.
I am a little saddened by all the dogs that appear to be homeless. Maybe they aren't, I don't know, I'm not a $&%@# genius. Truthfully, any dog that got lost should be able to find its way home within 2 or 3 days simply by process of elimination. It's not a very big island. Forty-nine square miles or somewhere near that. And plus, I think the rule is sort of that if you want a dog here, you just feed one, and it probably follows you. So until the people of Saiapan start starving, the boonies will probably be ok. I mean, there's cat roadkill out there. Because when I'm driving, and mr. kitty just lays in the road looking at me, i don't make quite as much of an effort to avoid him. Cats should know better though.
So if anyone knows the origin of the term boonie in relation these mongrels, let me know. And someone tell my dog that he would be king on this island. And that I miss him.

my real first post

2008-04-24T23:33:00.000-04:00

Okay, so this was actually written prior to my post about boonie dogs...so it is really the beginning of what the world has been waiting for...:)

April 24^th, 2008

I need to have some business cards printed. Now, I don’t really have a business yet, per say, but I definitely have the makings of one in my head. I also have a name, TWO email addresses, and a cell phone number that is local to Saipan. When a man has this many mediums of communication, he needs it to be organized on a pocket sized card that he can hand to potential clients, friends, or people whom he wants to impress. Truthfully, I think parents should have to get their children business cards immediately after birth. Then, when admiring adults lean in and say silly things like, “Adrian, is that a boy or a girl’s name?”, and “How old are you little one” and “What’s that funny smell emanating from your diaper?”, the child will have been trained to whip out a card that answers all these questions and more. Because let’s face it, who’s got to answer these questions? That’s right, I for one am tired of having to answer questions directed at my children that a business card could answer with much more visually delightful designs.

This all reminds that I actually have had business cards printed for myself before. And then, as instructed by my employer, I handed them out. I think this is a strangely widespread practice among the corporate world. I say strange, because it creates a lot of confusion. The usual result of my business card handing out (everybody in line at McDonald’s always got one from me), is that people call the number on the card, which in my case was an office number for an office that I was never at. So then another employee has to get involved and introduce themselves to this person, and take a message to pass on to me. I would receive the message, examine it, confirm that someone had called me, but that I did not recognize the name or number, and set it on my desk, where it would gradually add to the immovable mountain of papers that I referred to as my paperwork. I kept trying to explain to my boss that the business cards just weren’t working.

So we added my cell phone number to the card. Now, these same unrecognizable people who fished my cards out of the local weekly lunch drawing jar could call directly to me. And they would begin their conversations without any proper introduction.

Me: “Hello.”

Unknown Person: “Hey there Rio. This is Bill Jackson Heffferin. You were out at my house on December 16^th, 2005 at 3:12 pm, but you didn’t meet me you met my great-uncle Jeffery and my mistress Cherry.

Me: “Uhh, Okay Bill. Tell me a little more because I’m having a small amount of trouble remembering that particular instance over two and a half years ago.

Bill: “You were out at my house to look at my roof, remember?”

Since I worked for a roofing company, and most of my daily appointments involved looking at roofs, I would hang up the telephone after this startling revelation. I did not need to be reminded of any past work I had done. Leave it be, and let bygones be bygones, that’s what I say. But seriously, what’s the benefit of this customer calling me about a situation that requires me to be in the office looking at his paperwork anyhow? He hasn’t sped up the process any by talking directly to me. And I am much more likely to just come off as the rude salesperson who can’t remember his particular situation when I have to take a call in the middle of standing on top of a roof pretending to listen to my newest client and his situation!

The construction industry did teach me a lot about business cards, though. Just think, you have a bunch of guys, education levels aside, who either want to play with bulldozers, or tell others how to play with the bulldozers. Give them all a box of a thousand business cards, I’m surprised we don’t hand them out to the waitresses when they come to talk our lunch order. I’d give mine to this guy, he’d go to his truck and give me his bosses card. I’d call his boss and he’d babble like an idiot and tell me to call the office. Call the office and they say they’re not allowed to give out JoeJoe’s cell number, would I like to leave a message?

Now the truth is, business cards are really only useful when you need to write down something you really care about. You flip the business card over and use the back. You may write something like ‘use a code name like Helga so my wife won’t suspect anything’ or the measurements of a roof you’re up on without your clipboard. Great! That’s what they’re really for, right?

WRONG! The printing industry got word that we were writing things ourselves, without paying them to write it for us, and they had to come up with a solution. What to do, what to do…eureka! They started printing stuff on the back too! And not just a few words, noooo. They print full-color emblems with texture so that if you try to write on it the pen dries up and will never write again. By the end of my roofing career I had a bunch of business cards that had no useful information on the back of them!

So I plan to apply all of my business card expertise as I choose my new cards. Namely, I am paying for them myself, so I’ll be using the free ones you get off the internet on the cheap paper stock. I will put someone else’s name on the cards with my phone number, so that when people call and ask for him I can say “how do you know him?” and then ascertain whether they’re legitimate clients, or just people who I met in the betting lines at the cock fighting tournament. And of course, the all important question will be, “what’s written on the back of the card?”, because once they tell me that, our conversation will be over!