25 June 2008

I'm 50 Years Old


I was born in 1958. Dwight Eisenhower was President of the United States, "I Love Lucy" was the top rated television program and the world was in black and white. Ancient history.

Recently I visited a website with current pictures and profiles of my high school friends and was shocked to see so many grandparents smiling back at me. Is that the same kind of face I see in the mirror? Is the youthfulness I feel an illusion, a trick of the mind that each of us engage in to get through the day? I'm not sure.

Last weekend I went to London for a 24 hour trance party and was my usual self, which is to say I busted it full power. I didn't feel old seeing the 20 and 30-somethings sitting, exhausted, against the wall while I jumped at 150 bpm. It isn't about chronological age and I guess it never was. But there was one giant difference, for me at least - being so close to my 50th birthday I was aware that each time I walk onto the dance floor I'm one day closer to my last dance. That's been true since the beginning, of course, but last weekend it was at the front of my mind.

The knowledge of the eventual end of my trancing ways didn't make me sad - quite the opposite. I spent the entire party with a huge smile, enjoying doing what I love and loving it all the more because I'm not guaranteed the chance to do it ever again. Every part of the party was beautiful, including the three hour bus and train trip back to Brighton. It was beautiful because I'm alive.



My life has been - is - idyllic. I've had pain and trouble, just like everyone else, but I'm grateful for this life. And in a way I'm grateful that this life is finite - the certain end of our lives makes the time we spend here more precious. Every day we can have the proverbial "last cookie" feeling, the special enjoyment that comes when we cherish the end of a pleasant experience.

3 April 2008

Sadness in Spring



I got up this morning in Brighton and saw the tulips in full bloom in the back garden. They helped a little... I feel sad today, even though I know my sadness is misplaced. A friend in San Francisco is very ill. (Update: My friend passed away April 3)

It's not about me, of course. My sadness is a drop in the ocean compared to the burden borne by her and her family. For the past two years I've followed her progress as she's fought bravely against a serious and determined disease. I've been thrilled by her courage and the love and support given by our close-knit SF community. I love her, and I'm just one of the many.

Several years ago, before she got sick, this wonderful woman helped me during one of the few times in my life when I've experienced true fear. I thought I was going to die, which was ridiculous to everyone but me at the time. My lovely friend helped me past that moment, calming me to the point where I was able to accept whatever fate awaited me. My crisis passed with the calming, but I learned a lesson about acceptance that stays with me to this day, that will make my own eventual passing easier.

I love her.

I appreciate the strength she's shown during the illness and treatment. She's done it for us... for me. We can't bear the thought of her leaving us. I've wanted her to fight - for us, for me - while trying not to begrudge her the calm acceptance she teaches us. Yesterday she was moved into palliative care, a sign that it's time for all of us to look inside and find the place of loving acceptance that celebrates her life without attachment to outcome.

I love her.

None of us are ready for you to go, V... but none of us will blame you if you leave. Where, after all, can you go? You've made too much a difference in our lives, you're planted too deeply in our hearts to ever truly leave us. I'll carry you with me until my last breath, a moment I know will be easier because of what I learned at your feet.

I love you.

Update

Update, April 3: My friend passed away this morning. I'm grateful her suffering is over. Afterwards I mentioned her and the effect it's had on our community to a friend in Brighton. He asked me what I meant by "community", whether I just meant our group of friends. It was hard to explain what happens when hundreds of open-hearted people come together and dance together, hour after hour, intermittently sitting and bonding, weekend after weekend, year after year. Did we ever spend that kind of time with our parents or brothers and sisters? Maybe some of us did, but for many of us the relationships we've formed on the dance floor are the closest of our lives, spread among a community that's too close to be called a "network".

V wasn't someone who stood on the edge of this family... she was in front, dancing with more energy and loving with more acceptance than almost anyone. I might be far away physically but i could never go far enough away to leave her behind.

And I don't think she can go anywhere where she'll leave us behind... but i'll still miss dancing with her. In her physical absence I'll try to internalize the ever-present lesson - this incarnation comes to an end. Today we should all get out in the sunshine.

13 March 2008

A message for a friend

I think this speaks for itself...

Dear _____

A couple of weeks ago I was over and you asked me a question - "Why do I do that?" You looked at me for a second and then said you knew I didn't know... but I had an answer. It just didn't seem like a good time to go into it.

First, I don't for a moment think you do anything that merits judgment against yourself. The activities you described didn't seem bad or wrong to me, and even if they did (believe me, they didn't) it wouldn't be important anyway. It's the question itself that's interesting because I, just like most sentient beings, have asked that question so often in the past.

As is my experience, any question I keep asking eventually receives an answer. One day, about 12 years ago, I was sitting in my apartment in San Francisco and the answer popped into my head, almost like a vision. I was so taken with what seemed like obvious truth that I sat down and wrote it out in an essay of sorts. Being a dufus, I don't have that essay handy - it's filed with a lot of other stuff I'll probably never see again in a box somewhere in California. But no matter... the answer is welded into my consciousness.

We do what we do, whatever it is, to have the experience of the present moment.

We didn't squeeze ourselves out of our mothers' wombs to be lost in our thoughts, stuck in our heads in seemingly endless thought-loops. We crave the experience of being alive, of being in the present moment experiencing that to which our paths have led. When we get lost in our thoughts our subconscious minds compel us toward actions or behaviors which will return us to the present moment. Unfortunately, when we let our subconscious lead us to present moment behaviors we don't always make the most enlightened of choices.

The evidence is everywhere... people who have inappropriate sex with people they don't even like, sometimes screwing up relationships with people they love, because no one is thinking about yesterday or tomorrow when they "cum" with a new person; people who spend money they don't have because at the point of a purchase they're brought into the present by their new "thing"; people who cut or mutilate themselves because when the knife breaks the skin the "voices go away"... there's a common thread in each of these examples - after the action is over we're thrown back into our heads even more forcefully, spinning on the questions of "why did i do it" and judging ourselves for having done whatever it is. These questions and judgments add to the already blaring background noise in our heads and lead inexorably to... more of the same, as our subconscious compels us toward the same behaviors because of the desire to be present, to be alive.

Not all of the behaviors are damaging - in fact most of them aren't. Getting tattooed or pierced, exciting hobbies, dancing, etc are just less harmful examples of the same desire to return to the present moment. There's nothing wrong with it unless we're causing pain in our lives and/or the lives of others with our actions. It's these harmful actions that cause us to ask the question in the first place - "why do I do what I do?"

This answer wouldn't be worth much if it didn't also come with a suggestion of how to avoid the actions that create pain, that create more spinning and karma and force us to return to the same behavior to make the mental noise go away, if even for a moment. The answer is simple - but the application is, at first, difficult. When feeling compelled to do something that we suspect will bring pain or karma into our lives we can lessen the desire for this action by taking a different path to the present moment. The simplest, most accessible path is to return to our bodies via our breath. Three deep breaths can work like magic.

One of the beauties of this is that belief has nothing to do with it - you don't need to believe what you can discover for yourself.

So... whether it's returning to one's body via breath, or (as one friend does) jumping up in the air and turning around (he swears by it and it makes sense), or reciting the lord's prayer (Jesus wasn't stupid) - one needn't be led by the subconscious to do what will eventually hurt. But more importantly, once we know why we want to do these things they lose much of their power over us.

We're here for one thing, and one thing only - to have the experience of the present moment. Our responsibility to ourselves (and the rest of creation) is simple: pay attention where we are, and not to what's in our heads. In doing so we regain power over our actions.

You asked, after all.

Love, Gary

5 January 2008

Football Hooligan


The day we moved into Aussie Matt's house he informed us it was an Everton supporting household... fair enough. I took on the Toffies, the lesser known team from Liverpool, as my favorite even though I really didn't have much taste for football. I have to admit I warmed up to it, especially since Everton went on a winning spree as soon as I moved in, winning 10 and drawing 1 without loss after I moved in... I'm golden!


For Christmas Matt took me and a few friends up to London for the West Ham vs. Everton match in the quarterfinals of the Carling Cup... He even gave me his Everton "kit" to wear, without warning me that wearing that shirt at an away game meant I was the most likely to get beaten up. No matter...


It was a lot of fun - in English football they pack the "away" supporters into one end of the stadium and keep them separated from the the home fans by the police, which reduces but does not eliminate the fights. The fans like to sing songs to one another... my favorite, sung to the tune of "Que Sera, Sera", was:

Steve Gerrard, Gerrard,
He runs over kids with cars,
His wife takes it up the arse,
Steve Gerrard, Gerrard.


Classy! But somehow funny - you had to be there.

It was an exciting game, with Everton scoring in the last 3 minutes to snatch a road win - the away side went crazy and I couldn't help being swept up in it, joining in the chant honoring the goal scorer (Yakubu): "Feed the Yak and he will score!"



Matt, Good Guy Gary, Stu, Neil and I had a great time, and Everton is currently high up the table in the Premier League... Go Toffies!