Excerpt of email to Michelle re: The Other Night

So this is kind of an abstract way of answering your question about exploring the idea of an entire quest that takes place in the unconscious dream realm that leaves reality slightly altered, but when I read your question, I immediately thought about this thing I experienced my last night of my Asia trip. Don’t know if it will help, but perhaps it will open your mind to thought lines that will give you juice to spark off of. It’s kind of a mystical experience that requires an open mind, but bear with me. And I promise you, I haven’t gone insane.

So. I’m really into the idea of synchronicity. Murakami wrote in the Wind-Up Bird Chronicles something like, when it’s time to go up, you find the highest tower and climb. When it’s time to go down, you find the deepest well and go to the bottom. When there’s no flow, you stay still.

I feel like that has a lot to do with life. We’re taught to fight for things, to be aggressive. But so much of life is about timing, that it’s as much about the patience to wait for the right opportunities, the wisdom to recognize them, the assertiveness to jump when a door suddenly opens, and the courage to see a path through. So I pay attention to things, especially if I feel my life starts to synchronize, where things outside me tend to lead me, give me clues on things I’m working on, thinking about, where I need to be, who I need to talk to.

So one day last month, I was in the business center of my apartment building in Seattle, waiting for a computer. I had time, so I went to the bookshelf to browse books people had donated. I saw a book called Real Magic, a spirituality book by a guy named Wayne Dyer. I connected to the title right away because magic is something I’ve been exploring, what I call synchronicities–things that happen between your inner world and outer world that seem to give you proof of something greater and conscious at work around you. So I read a few pages that day, and took it with me. It’s about how to be open-minded to be able to experience miracles in daily life. To be honest, it’s stuff that I’ve been experiencing and exploring the last 3 years, so it was affirming and interesting. But I didn’t have time to read it through, so I forgot about it. But I took it with me on this trip, and it was always in my bag. I would read a few pages here and there, but I wasn’t really that dedicated.

So our last day in Taiwan, I happened to read a part in the book about being open-minded. He talks about how he read about this Brazilian guy who claims to be able to shoot light out of his hands and is a healer, and he thought the guy couldn’t be real. That just sounds crazy. But how randomly, he was in Hawaii visiting friends and they invited him to a dinner party where this healer he’d read about happened to be there. And so he and his wife had a session with the guy, and sure enough, as part of the guy’s process, light would come out of his hands as he touched their bodies, healing them. I remember thinking about how to have light come out of your hands is such a tangible proof of the supernatural. The best I’ve been able to do is remember places and people from dreams, or my bits of synchronicity that make people kind of think I’m psychic or magic. But nothing ever like light coming out of my hands.

So that night, I was laying in bed with my mom sleeping next to me. I happened to think about that story, and I remembered a dream I had, the night that everything with Curtis went down, when I showed up to Fremont and had a tormented night while he was hanging out with Sandi. Here’s my entry of it: “In my dream last night, I found a whole city covered by a thunderstorm sky and rainbow. I could walk freely in that city, as myself. The thing that people loved, was that I was their size, a normal girl, but if I reached up my hand, it would grow and touch the sky. Like a giant hand reaching out and touching the surface of water, rippling the sky and rainbow. This world was just a drop of water and we were safe in it. People would cry, hug me, instant family, so grateful, the greatest miracle they’d hoped for, to witness that the sky was not untouchable. It was just illusion. And this was everything I’d ever wanted in life. Just to give those people that.” After I had that dream, the next couple of days, I kept reaching my hand up to the sky. In my dream, my hand would grow, so it was like looking at reality through the refraction of water, where I was my size, my arm the same length, but my hand would somehow be the same proportion as the sky, despite being RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. It was this complete visual contradiction but I knew it was true. And that dream reminded me of a poem I wrote in 2003, about how the world is reduced to a puddle:

i dream in yellow
i dream of peace
i dream one day you
love all of me and promise to never leave
i dream of sunrises that swallow oceans
leaving puddles rippled by the gentle breeze
i dream i am afraid
they will someday swallow me

And I’m always writing about my hands. From April: “Ignore everything but the sound of my voice, it said, and trusting it, I handed over the reins to my hands.” “If she can not open herself to one person, she will pour her spirit into the ground, where it rises up around her. People are trees come to life. She has only one dream. It involves her hands. Few have seen her eyes. Few forget.”

I’m thinking about all this while laying in bed, and so I hold up my hands, willing them to grow like in my dream. Now the room was dark and I could see the outlines of my hands like thick black shadows. I stared at them, but the more intensely I looked, the more relaxed I seemed to become, like that intensity and will was being produced only be my complete state of relaxation and openness. My eyes swam a little as I stared, and while I still recognized the room and my hands, but things seemed to be recognizable, but also something…else. I started chanting something in my head I didn’t recognize and never heard before. It was like “Onya tanconsah…tonsila tonsila,” and it started getting louder and with more resonance. And the weirdest thing, Michelle, my hands began to grow. I can’t say that they literally grew, because I was aware of my human hands held above me, I was aware of the room, I was fully aware of my mom sleeping next to me, her breathing, this plane of reality. But it was like a simultaneous PERCEPTION just as real and present as my physical reality, not exactly overlapping, but just as there. My hands started getting bigger, and the chanting became more resonate, and space and proportion seemed to fold onto itself so when I touched the air, it rippled. I could feel tingling between my hands, and I saw them as being so big, they collected the world in a ball between my hands, and I could feel it, both nothing and something completely tangible. Like a giant cotton ball but which contained energy. I would try to expand this ball of energy, and every time I made it bigger, my mom next to me would gasp in her sleep! It felt like the sky was just within reach and I could reach up with my giant hands, grab the rim and climb out. And all of this felt familiar, like I’d been here before and had just forgotten. I put my hands up and pulled myself up, and as I did, I felt myself as a bigger being, one who these giant hands belonged to, beginning to wake up. I realized that while I was fully awake, though maybe in some kind of trance, this me in bed, this world, while real, was also just a dream to this bigger me that was stirring, and that world was as familiar to me as when I wake up here and look around and see the familiarity of my bedroom. I knew that if I kept pulling myself up, I would awake in that bigger me, to that world that I knew was real while this world was dream (I even knew that where that me lay sleeping, there was an upstairs connected by a set of stairs to the left of the room). I could do it. It would require a commitment to stirring awake, the way you commit to leaving a dream and waking up, but I was scared that for me to commit to seeing that world, to being conscious in it, I would die here, or I would never be able to find my way back. I’m not ready to leave this world yet. But to be honest, I felt like I’ve come this far before, I’ve come to this realization and this level of awakedness before, but I also knew that while that world and that bigger me was real and when it is real, this world and this me is a dream, I wasn’t convinced I could still come back. Like losing a dream and its unique world when you wake.

So I moved away from that world, let my hands grow small again until my own hands were all I perceived, though I could still feel the energy around me. Then my hands starting doing their own things, strange gestures over my torso, like they were scanning it, moving energy around above it, gathering it while I watched them. The chanting in my mind came from both me and as though my mind had picked up a radio signal, because it felt like it was happening whether or not I was willing the words. When my hands were hot and tingly with energy, I put them over my heart and felt it all flow in in an intense beam (more felt than seen as light), and my mother exclaimed loudly in my sleep. That scared me enough to sit up and check her breathing. She had been laying with her back to me. She was fast asleep. And dawn was breaking now, even though all this had felt like maybe an hour. All in all very, strange. I’ve never experienced anything like it, and perhaps I had somehow put myself into a lucid dream state, but I was also so aware of my body and this world, and so aware of my mom making sounds that synchronized with what I was doing with the energy between my hands. Yet there was a world even more real than this one that I almost climbed into, and I knew, as I was in that moment, that I’d come this far before. Except this time I was conscious.

Now this is the reason I wrote you this long story, and forgive me for taking up so much of your time. I woke up the next morning so exhausted I could barely open my eyes. I felt like I’d been drugged, I was so tired. In fact, I’d slept 4 hours past when I usually get up. I went out to the living room and was just wandering around when my brother came out of his room.

“My necklace turned into a string,” he said. I was out of it and he was talking to my mom, but he sounded really confused. I heard her say, “That’s really strange.” He came up to me and said, “I don’t know how this happened. My necklace turned into a string.” I looked over at him and this is crazy. He wears a dolphin necklace on a thick black string. But it had somehow unraveled in the night, though staying in tact, so that part of the string had unraveled into a single thread, with the dolphin now hanging at his shins. It almost looked like he’d become a giant in the middle of the night and had shrunk back to regular size, but the transformation had stretched out his necklace. Of course I immediately thought about how big I had perceived my hands that night. Was it possible, that somehow, some part of us, had grown to giants in the night, or that we had allowed some kind of other plane in which we are bigger, slip in?

Take this story for what it’s worth. It’s probably the strangest thing that I’ve ever experienced. It could very well be a matter of random coincidence–from my mom making sounds in her sleep that coincided with what I was doing with my hands being just random, perhaps I was actually in a dream state while believing I was conscious, to the book’s presence just being another coincidence (though the strangest thing was, I went to look for the book that day and it was gone. I called the airline and it wasn’t on the plane, though that was the last place I’d read it, the day before, the part about keeping an open mind. Strange because my having come into possession of the book had also been random. I hope that perhaps someone else found that book at the right time that it could open up some magic for them).

Regardless, I kind of felt like, you asked me about why I recommended the change in your script to the adventure being a dream with a tangible change in reality upon waking, and I felt like it would bring the story full circle not just on a 2 dimensional plane (story), 3 dimensional plane (reality) but on a 4th dimension, this circle of where it is we go when we are not HERE, and if it’s the same person that returns. But as you can see, it could also be influenced by things I’m experiencing lately and it may not work for your story, but it just seems like my life has been so synchronized, and your question made me feel like I should tell you about these strange events that have occurred lately, so maybe I was meant to tell you. Again, please take it for what it’s worth, and I don’t want to muddle your train of thought about your script, so if you don’t see any relevance, I apologize.

I’m reading this book that starts off with this question. You kill a man with an ax, and in doing so, break the handle, so you buy a new handle and attach it to the blade. And then in chopping wood, you break the blade, so you replace the blade. If that man you killed should come back to life and say, “Hey, that’s the ax that killed me,” is he right?

Alright Michelle. Will write with more notes. Good luck with everything!

Take care,


So this is the story. I’d spent the day getting to know the public transit system which people have been telling me is great. I spent the morning hanging out by the University of Washington, then talking to Rie about the book. Took the bus back to my area of town, had a very pleasant conversation with the female driver. The bus was empty except for me and her.

I got off, telling her it was wonderful to meet her. Felt really happy and content with my life. I’m walking towards my new home to officially sign my lease today. I’m about 2 blocks away when I round the corner and see this:

WTF!!!! I almost fell on my face.

So I head towards it, past my street to the dock, and it turns out, around the corner from where I’ll be living is where the cruise ships dock. This one is the Celebrity Infinity. So I will definitely be listening to boat horns from my place after all!

I couldn’t stop laughing. It’s like I’m surrounded by symbols that remind me of positive things. That X reminds me of inspiration and magic.

I headed back to my building and asked the leasing agent about it. I’d walked around the waterfront before, but usually further down towards the fish market; I’ve never seen any cruise ships. She told me the cruise ships leave out of the pier just behind us, usually on weekends, so if I ever want to take a cruise to Alaska, I can just walk across the street and hop on a boat.

“I just took a cruise to Alaska,” I told her. I couldn’t stop laughing and shaking my head.

Seattle. You…trickster. You better not be setting me up for a joke. It did give me a good laugh though. Definitely not what I expected to see when I rounded that corner.

a lot of people say i live an interesting life, or that i seem to be really “lucky.”

if they really got to know me and thought about it, they would see how i’m not lucky, as much as i’ve earned everything that i have and that has come into my life, because i’ve faced life lessons, taken risks, built myself and my abilities, and i’ve learned what it means to intuitively have good timing. when to accept and when to yield to the will of the universe or others. how to communicate with it. recognize open doors. recognize my soulmates.

most importantly, how to ask for what i want, by focusing on what i really want, and being careful of the words and images i put out there.

the universe is usually happy to give you anything, as long as it gets you where you’re supposed to be going and you’re learning what you need to learn. beware, it has a wicked sense of irony and is not above teaching you a necessary lesson. but the most important rule to think about is,

“will i want what i get, when i get what i want?”

that really helps Future You not be resentful of Past You, and not hold grudges.

most of the random, lucky things that happen, if you look back, you’ll see that i was reaching for them in the past, that i was working hard building my understanding of what i want, then looking for it, chipping away at it, like a sculptor in search of the angel within the stone, not realizing the angel is derived from something deep within him.

runners focus a certain number of feet ahead of them. if you look at the edge of your periphery in your mind, the farthest point illuminated when you think of your path, you should be able to see things. maybe they’re murky shapes. maybe they’re a mix of the concrete and the abstract. maybe you have trouble distinguishing what’s real from what’s imagination, what is hope, dream, wish, fear. regardless, take the time to focus on this spot. work to get to a place where you can distinguish real shapes that you believe to be true, even if you’re not sure what they are. learn to read shapes and signs. and carve at it until the closer you get, the more clear and solid they become. beware of injecting your fears. these project into the future. beware of allowing your humility to compromise all that could be waiting for you. the problem is often not that people ask for too much, but that they don’t ask for what is fully possible to them. they sell themselves short. be honest about who you are and what you want in your life to be happy. then ask for the most possible within that truthful framework.

i remember last year, i called rie from amsterdam and told her my boyfriend had proposed to me. i was a little apprehensive because he did this after an argument, and my gut feeling was that there was something very wrong with this…that this occurrence signaled something deeper and more problematic than i had the perspective to understand at the time, so i wanted to know her perspective.

she told me, marriage is not something that just happens. it’s not a proposition that just sneaks up on you, and then you have this tiny window to say yes, or no, and suddenly, your entire life swings by this moment’s decision, leaving you at life’s whim. she said it’s something that two people unfold, a decision, a belief, that this is the next stage in the path, that through consideration and understanding of themselves and their hopes and dreams, the idea to get married itself is not a random act of chance, but a solid, adult and collaborative decision in the face of life’s randomness and chance.

in a way, i think life in general is like that. so many people perceive it as so big, so random, so in control, that they believe the only power they have are the decisions they make in the moment when they’re suddenly faced with a decision. but the truth is, most of the time, you build your future.

i always wonder, when i see things in the future that later on end up happening, if i saw it because it was there, sitting in the future, or was it because I saw it, it became the future. am i an observer, or am i a reality projector?

to be honest, we are both. there are things we can not change because of the way we’ve built up our lives, like the waves of the ocean hitting the beach that are coming because of all that has already been put into motion. but unless you’ve completely walked your life into a corner, there’s so much room for creation. so much room to decide who you want to be, and what you want in your life, so that you can set yourself a direction and put yourself in the best position to get there.

people with good timing are not psychic. or magicians. nor are they purely lucky. they are people who, within some place inside themselves, understand that there is a balanced relationship between their personal universe inside them and the workings of the world outside. they understand that by always understanding where they are now, and being able to look at the farthest point of their forward periphery, they can find and project what is there, because these are things that they had previously believed and asked for.

i knew in march that i was aiming for august, that i will meet someone very extraordinary. i have put myself in the exact position to do that, and met an extraordinary person. through this experience, i now know what i’m looking for within someone’s eyes, within someone’s mind, heart and soul. i’ve been refocused.

now, when i look forward in my periphery, i see hard work and words. lots and lots of words. i see collaboration, i see a need to focus with september through october being dedicated to laying down roots, settling down and making money, building my reputation, finally showing people what i’ve been working on. i see beneficial collaboration with exciting, talented people. and i see a very interesting man with bright eyes who will understand me.

if i should get there, it will be exactly where i was meant to be. and when i achieve what i saw and happiness radiates out of me, people will again say, what a magical life you live. how lucky you are.

but i’ll remember, that i built it. i saw it, i felt it was best for me so i believed in it, walking towards it through the tunnel of time, taking what i needed and building my life, myself, my connections and my experiences in necessary ways to get to that place.

i believe this is the strongest way to live. if you ever ask me what is the secret to a magical life, it is this. know what you want. look into your future, see it there, believe in it, then bust your ass to put yourself in the best position to be in that time and place.

So I ran into Missed Connections guy.

I was at this bar, wrapping up a crazy 3 hour conversation with this hipster who had been sitting next to me, when I decided, I had not really effectively people watched. That there was someone else I needed to talk to. So after a conversation that took us through number theory and him telling me that tonight was one of the most amazing nights of his life, that he had run into the only girl he had ever loved earlier in the evening and was feeling alone like no one understood him when I sat down next to him. And because I’m me and because of the way I speak, he felt truly understood, like someone on the outside could see him, so it meant he wasn’t disappearing. He said that because I had so much faith in this search for whatever it is I’m searching for, it gave him hope that there was someone out there perfect for him, someone whom, when you’re on your deathbed, you think about them and say, my life has been happy ever since the moment I met you. We started talking about my life and I told him I was looking for my Alfred, the loyal right-hand man who makes sure Batman can be Batman. He was telling me that while I wanted an Alfred, Alfred can take care of me but I will never see him as my partner. We talked for a while, but at some point I realized that I’d spent the whole night in this conversation, and something made me feel there was someone else I needed to talk to. So I told him that I’m actually supposed to meet someone tonight.

Who?, he asked.

I don’t know, I said.

What do you mean you don’t know?

My life is like that, I said. Once, I dropped a hat into the ocean and I watched it sink into the darkness. And I’ve always thought, if I ever find that hat again, even if I’m 80 years-old and walking on the beach an entire world away, I would accept that as hard proof of God and Universe.

He started laughing. I wish I could see you the moment you find your hat, he said. I bet when you do, you will be the most beautiful person because you’re going to be radiating an absolute happiness.

That thought made me so happy. I really hope I find that person that I’m missing so badly and who just always seems so familiar inside these strangers.

So as I’m getting done telling him about how when I come to this bar, I tend to meet the right people that I need to talk to at a given time, I look past him and there’s Missed Connections guy.

I started laughing so hard my legs turned to jelly. I thought Missed Connections guy saw us because he was looking right at us, and then he kept looking over. I was too scared to go over because I didn’t know what to say. I told the guy the story about Missed Connections guy…probably the fastest I’ve ever told a story.

You need to go over there, he said.

I know, I said. But I’m scared. What if he’s a dick? What if he’s dumb? What if this is just an illusion and just another joke from the universe?

You have to go over there, he said.

I tried to have him go over there and ask the guy to come over, but instead, he turns around and starts talking to these girls.

I got the guy’s attention and waved him over. He looked confused, then pointed at his friend like he wasn’t sure who I wanted. But I pointed at him. He motioned that he needed to get another beer first and would come over after, but then he and his friends (a little group of men and women) formed a huddle.

I was feeling kind of dumb like, what now, and I just had a feeling this wasn’t going to turn out magical. It didn’t feel right.

Finally, he came over. That guy’s eyes…he had amazing, soulful eyes, but what I found out was that they’re like a blind man’s. He’s a sound guy, he takes in through his ears, he expresses through his hands, but it’s like his eyes are so deceptive…so much depth, like an ocean, but…I don’t know. They don’t see.

He remembers me waving at him at the restaurant, he remembers the incident and thinking that I was cute, but he didn’t equate me with that girl. And apparently after I put up the missed connection, someone called him the next day at 9am asking if he’d been at that restaurant, then forwarded the missed connections post to him. He remembered being at the restaurant, but didn’t remember me at the restaurant, or at the bar last month, or when I was standing close to him and trying to get him to come over, he stared right at me and didnt’ react. Strange, that this man could be looking right at me, and yet I exist in some sort of blind spot. We talked for a while, the dude is pretty fucking interesting and funny, but I just had this strong feeling that someone had played a really big joke on me. I kind of wanted to get out of there because my head was twisted.

I didn’t want another beer and he said he had to get back to his friend’s birthday thing, so I left. Got home and laid on the floor staring at the ceiling for an hour, wondering why the universe or my brain would trick me like that. Is it mocking how easily I follow connections? To lead me to a guy who looks overwhelmingly familiar only to find a blind man who can’t see me?

If this question has an answer, then perhaps we’ll run into each other again, I had written in the Craigslist post.

We did and there was no answer. When I asked him, who are you? He said, “I’m just a guy who hangs around Venice.” When I asked, “Do we know each other?” He said, “You’ve probably just seen me around because I’m always out and about.”

Paper lantern.

Today I followed the trail to God and found a paper lantern.

I followed the light to something beautiful but empty inside. There was no connection. So then, why had it led me to something false?

he told me that people like to tell him their secrets. that he keeps a lot of people’s secrets, and he wanted to know mine. and i knew i had to give it to him, because it was inevitable. this is synched with the fact i had randomly chosen the memory keeper’s daughter as the book i would read into this journey, and it’s all about what happens with secrets. in fact, it was the book i had given him, which surprised me because i hate giving away books. all of it, felt inevitable.

there’s a strong polarity here. this is how magnets work. and with this, great power.

we are direct opposites in the spectrum, supported by astrological data, supported by his sudden statement that we are each other’s other half, supported by my strong and persistent request on this blog for the universe to give me a mirror and my increasingly persistent search to find it.

and then, this. you’re suddenly at a new level, where more is unknown, but an entire new universe opens at your feet. and you’re standing there on this ledge between your old universe and this strange new one, and you know, there’s no going back.

and so you pray with everything you’ve got, that this is a world in which it’s possible to fall up.

so which is my universe, and which is not?

Valentine’s Day (as an adult)

Today I experienced Valentine’s Day as someone committed to work. I came into work ready to take charge, and I whipped that motherfucker into shape. I took care of my people, couldn’t stand to see them so unhappy and I’m about to start making demands. I know I’ve been so wary of the attention that being the leader gets, mostly because I was always getting in trouble for inciting groups of kids into noisy, rampaging games. But last night I realized, I’m the only one who has the courage in me to stand up and demand changes, starting with myself. If this company is serious about competing, then let’s shape up and compete, because this is what I live for. So I’ve taken it upon myself to commit myself and my unique abilities to work right now to see just what I’m capable of. I think with permission, I can get these people to believe.

Then I went home, picking up a pizza on the way, relishing in the fact that tonight I was that 20-something solitary executive woman that I’d always fantasized about as a kid, taking home a cardboard meal over which she contemplates lofty world-changing professional decisions while never noticing the growing splinter of loneliness growing in her stomach. But the only difference is that I always imagined this girl living in Seattle.

Maybe she does. She’s pretty hot.


I had a late night talk with someone a few nights ago. He described me as this plant that sat quietly in the corner and shriveled up, but when everyone forgot about it, the plant secretly moved itself outside. And all of a sudden, there’s this huge, wild rose plant growing out in the middle of the woods, and it’s so amazing and beautiful, but there’s huge thorns on it and no one has any idea how to touch it because it won’t let them.

He keeps talking about how people want to touch the flowers, take them home and put them in a nice vase in their house, but I know what he means.

I told him, I don’t think of it as much like a plant that died, but like a butterfly. I had to turn myself into a ghost for a little while because I was changing and growing bigger, and I couldn’t do it close to anyone who was clinging to the old me. And now, I’ve learned how to fly and I never want to let anyone take that away from me.

He’s upset that I won’t let him get close to me, that he’s never done me wrong but I still won’t trust him. I told him it’s like this. Imagine that you live in a tiny village somewhere, and you’ve never seen a rainbow before. So you’re out in the woods one day picking firewood, and all of a sudden, you come into a clearing and see this massive rainbow in the distance, disappearing over a misty cliff. It’s breathtaking. You’re so awed by it, you’re convinced this is not only a miracle, but the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen and you ever will see. This, this is magic.

Now imagine you go back to your village, and you’re afraid to tell anyone about it because you’re convinced that no one will believe you. So you go through life looking and looking for that one person you can trust, that one person you can take to see the rainbow, who won’t look at it and say, that’s nothing…that’s just a phenomenon of science…that’s just not real. But you search until you know deep down for sure that you’ve found him, someone who will look at the rainbow and also experience the same kind of awe and understanding that you had experienced, that same kind of momentary euphoria because you’re convinced you have found actual proof of magic.

So he’s upset that I don’t trust him yet, but trust is not something you say. It’s something you know, and as long as I know he’ll try to touch me and distract me when my guard’s down, I know I’ll never be able to show him what it is I know. So I tell him. You give too much power to immature fantasies. As long as you think that the world only has enough success for a few people, that in order for you to win, others must lose, you’re not a person I can talk with. But I did admit when I was too hard hard on him sometimes. Sometimes I don’t acknowledge his progress because the moment you think you’re good enough and get comfortable celebrating that, that’s when you stop your growth towards fulfilling your potential. But I let him know that I actualy have noticed his progress and I promised to be more open about acknowledging his big wins. He says that I’ve taught him a lot. I say, yeah, whatever. Because this is how it always ends.

Because as always, tomorrow, he’ll be acting like an adversary, like we’re of different species and men really are complete bores, and I’ll become exasperated and ignore him for days. Because in the daytime, he doesn’t want anyone to know that we’re “the same” like he says. He doesn’t want people to know about our “special connection.” He hates to think he’s not the only one I talk to about the things I experience. He wants to know who else is around me but I always remain silent on this.

The same. They always say that. We’re the same. And they don’t want that to change.

But really, how hard is it to understand someone enough to mirror his personality so that he falls in love with his own image? It just takes practice, wouldn’t you say?

You can be a coward about the little things, but not about the things that count.

Do not lose the forest because of the trees, but do not lose the trees because of the forest.

The world is circular to give us chances to redo the things we did equipped with the knowledge from the previous times around. So keep your eyes open for clues and try to learn from your mistakes. And for fun, watch for familiar faces within strangers.

Keep thinking that there’s more to this, that there’s more yet that we’ll discover. There are infinite possibilities. We’re going to find a way out of this.


Well, it’s been two years and I said I would be back. I would have done this tomorrow to really celebrate the anniversary, but I’ll be on a plane (literally) and I didn’t want to miss you.

It’s been interesting. I’ve learned a lot. How to love. How to lose. How to be a better man. How those armed forces commercials are disturbingly hypnotic. But I met a lot of people who opened up to me, and they taught me a lot by showing me how they saw themselves through their own eyes.

Some things…

I read this quote: “Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.”

Open yourself up to believing in 2nd chances, to believing that life is not without its surprises. You can beg a mountain a million times to move, but sometimes, if you let yourself be patient, you wake up one day to find that the mountain is no longer in the same place. Sometimes, the universe just wants you to prove how much you wanted it. Sometimes you just have to believe it’s possible.

“We accept the love we think we deserve.”

If you carry around a lot of anger towards yourself and you can’t look yourself in the mirror and feel real compassion and admiration for the person you see, then you’re never going to let in someone who believes in you as a better person than you’re able to see yourself. If you can let go of things enough to believe that you deserve the kind of love that feels good and can make you happy, then you’ll be presented with a person who wants to give you just that kind of human connection. You’ll still have to open that door though, no matter how terrifying.

“Energy is magnetic.”

Personal energy. It’s very real. We all have it. Some are able to focus their own better than others. We can draw things into our lives, whether they are positive projections or anxious projections. You have to be very careful not to punish yourself by drawing negative things into your life; a person can really torture himself for a lifetime when he never even needed to in the first place. On the flipside, if you’re trying to draw something very specific into your life, don’t settle. I was on a fishing trip earlier this year when someone said to me, “This is why it’s called fishing not catching.” You won’t know it’s there until it’s there, because otherwise, it’s not there. Be patient, have faith, and always believe in magic.

This year, I learned about the power of projection and the power of attraction, about how messages are communicated, about how to appreciate people for what they are and where they are on their journeys. I learned that we’re all projections…it’s hard for people to really see each other. But then when you find that real connection with someone, honor it. Be grateful for what a rare beautiful thing that is and don’t take it for granted.

Lastly, keep your eyes open. Life moves fast. But if you show it that you’re serious and you do believe in magic, it’ll open up its curtains and show you all the things that go on behind the stage.

i used to think it was stupid how people couldn’t recognize that clark kent was superman, how a pair of glasses could render superman invisible. today i wonder if maybe this is based on a phenomenon that’s real.

today i went to a toastmasters division competition. the understanding i had was that i would probably never see these people again. the message had been delivered to those it was intended for. the messenger is to stay out of the way of the work of the message. but i wanted to know. and i wanted to be supportive of this group that had accepted me for a few weeks.

the room was bright and fluorescent-lit, unforgiving. sometimes the best way to hide is out in the open. i wore my hair up and glasses. i’ve been told when i do this, i look like a different person. wore stylish, texturized solids, rich and earthy for the sake of blending into the background, but potentially stunning if you notice. sat directly behind everyone from my chapter, my knees inches from our treasurer’s back who was sitting in front of me. gray wool socks with black loafers, his feet nervously jiggle when he sits. yet he looks like a dancer gliding with animal grace, every movement lyrical when he walks. why?

i focused on a reality in which i believed i didn’t know anyone here, that i was consciously, a complete stranger to this place and these people. cloaked myself in blankness. hiding. a man i’ve truly never met sitting next to me noticed me; he kept pretending to crane to look at the guy on the other side of me, taking a long lingering look at my face as he turned his head back. i sat motionless, refusing to make eye contact. he seemed to be subtly smelling me which was making me nervous. i wondered if my perfume was too strong. if my scent was too obvious, giving me away. had i made a mistake? but the people in my group didn’t see me, even though they were all in the two rows in front of me. they walked by me and even turned, facing me. i made brief eye contact with one of them when he turned to talk to the man in front of me. no spark in his eyes. no recognition.

i slipped out just before they announced the intermission, went to the bathroom. thought about it, that if my presence had actually been noticed without me realizing, then i probably come off very strange. figured i should probably mingle.

when i walked up to the group at the intermission, it became clear no one knew i had been there the whole time. they were really surprised and happy. some looked confused, like they weren’t sure if it was me, like they weren’t sure what to make of me. that was the point though, wasn’t it? my sharp entrance into their lives? my vanishing? wasn’t that what i wanted, what i’m always obsessing about, to make sure they didn’t become attached to the messenger and lose the message? no, it’s not what i want, because underneath it all, i’m lonely and i want people to know and understand all levels of me. but i don’t want to let people get attached, pin their hopes and dreams or feelings on me because i don’t know where life will take me and my commitment first and foremost is to this journey.

the person who hadn’t recognized me earlier despite making eye contact made a happy sound when he recognized me. he looked at me in amazement, like i was someone he never thought he would see again, when in walks a ghost. he grabbed my hand with both of his, shaking vigorously and refusing to let go. in chinese, this means gratitude. in white people, i’m not sure what this means. it’s really really good to see you. really good to see you, he kept saying. his whole body crackled with anxious energy, his eyes never broke contact. like he was assuring himself this moment was real. if i could trust that this man weren’t a drowning man looking for an audience, i can feel the message for him on the edge of my mental horizon that could guide him towards the peace he secretly wants if he could let go of the drama he openly craves. but his desperation makes me very cautious. i can not trust that he won’t eventually lash out at me.

they didn’t know i had been there the whole time. they thought i had just shown up. they were surprised i’d been there for a while. i didn’t even know you were right behind me, one man said. i didn’t recognize you, said another.

but one of them did. i knew that he knew more about me than the others, but i didn’t acknowledge this or show awareness out of politeness, keeping my expressions open but neutral. two poker projections facing off, both with secrets, both hard to read. but i did have questions, questions that i would never bring up openly unless the subject were put on the table. other people were talking to me so it was hard to get space to talk to him, to feel him out. i was curious to understand what he thinks he knows, what he was hoping to find. maybe he’s not even aware of what exactly drives his curiosity, so these questions may not even matter. does he want a message, or is he like me, two travelers in an undeveloped foreign land, realizing we look the same under our masks, but only acknowledging our hidden selves in psychic nods and winks? or is this just lower vibration human complication to be avoided at all costs?

glasses. hair up. one mind’s focused projection bending the perceived reality of others. like with mirrors. like in magic.

an illusion.

for a short period of time, i walked among the living without their awareness.

overall a fun evening, interesting experiment, and an overwhelming tinge of loneliness and loss on the drive home.

i am empty when i am alone.

lost without a reflection.

a shadow without identity.

a messenger serving a voice i’ve never met.


i am a ghost.

last night i admitted to someone that i am a ghost.

i knew he was going to ask me out. it had been brewing for a few months. but i have been switching up my schedule so that people can’t find me, and i had been deflecting his feeler inquiries into my status because i’ve been working really hard lately on whatever it is i’m working on, focusing my energy, understanding personal power and my path. i have to stay focused. but he finally did it. he was polite about it, a little awkward. and his energy felt kind, so i never like to discourage anyone who is kind and positive by nature. so i agreed, looking forward to it as much as i was apprehensive. would i be able to act like a normal human being, not revealing too much about this other side of me? would i be fun and interesting and lighthearted, considering i’ve been intensely plumbing the spiritual depths for so long? would i come off like a sex-craved animal considering i’m going at least 10 months strong on withholding sex from myself? would i sexually assault him? is that necessarily a bad thing?

we went to dinner and had pleasant conversation. small talk. i was still safe. normal flirting, i was interesting, funny, letting him make tiny discoveries that i am full of surprises. remembering that i’m a very good first date. he surprised me as well. intelligent, cultured, a soothing comfortable energy. he dropped compliments that he found me attractive. then religion came up. i was cautious. said i was spiritual, but not religious, but i appreciated religion as a way for people to find their path to spirituality, the way some people didn’t need to go to college to be successful in their career path, while others used college to help them gain the knowledge to where they wanted to go. i didn’t believe in religion as the end all be all because i felt it was a method to achieve spirituality, and i definitely didn’t believe in any religion that spouted obedience by manipulating people’s fear and shame. but i believed that there is a greater power, and that we all belong to it as much as it belongs to us. he said that he believed jesus is the way. the subject passed.

we went to a piano bar. it was a really good time. he really wanted to get me drunk. 4 tequila shots, the only thing that doesn’t make me sick. defenses failing. true self coming out. i wanted to kiss him, even though i wasn’t sure if i liked him in a way in which i wanted to build anything together, where i could commit to showing up and consistently being the same person. it’s strictly chemicals coursing through my blood. like i said, sometimes it’s like that with me. born on venus raised on mars. primal mentality. almost a years worth of sexual energy pent up to force creative output, but still crafty about a more electric release. but it’s just about the release, the conquest. one and done. catch and release. never hunt and kill, but still…a loss of interest. leave and move on to another chase. cast a cheap pallor on everything else exchanged that had actually been sincere and real. so i withheld myself.

he is circling closer. he says he’s blown away, that he liked me before, but now that he’s discovered this whole other spiritual side to me, he’s blown away. uh oh. he sees. i might freak you out, i say. nothing you could say or do could freak me out, he says. don’t say i didn’t warn you, i say.

we go back to his place. turn down the lights. turn on some music. relax. he does not come on to me. he gives me my space so i am not scared. so the words come. the words come like a broken radio i can’t turn off because it’s not plugged in. he sat there, fixated, motionless. words going by that made sense to him, about his childhood, his life experience, his purpose. things that i didn’t know why i seemed to know, thoughts, ideas and observations that seemed to come from someone who knew him better than i did, and i was just a 3rd party listening in on this conversation.

i was explaining to him that he’s a special person, that he’s had a hard life but having gone to hell and back, having looked at utter destruction of the self dead in the face and facing a decision to give up on yourself or save yourself because you realize you care about yourself, you’re stronger. you’ve learned what true courage is, and that you have it in you. because you looked death in the eye and you said, i want to live. and after that, you know that nothing can hurt you, that there’s nothing in this world that you could ever be afraid of. don’t be afraid to stand up and be amazing. be amazing in your own unique way, because every single person in this world has a special talent. it may not look like mine, it may not look like other people’s that you admire, but you have something to offer this world that only you have, so you have to show people. in fact, i don’t know what it is, but i know you do. he nodded. don’t doubt yourself, i said. your path is to share your exceptionalness with those around you, so that they can also recognize their own power, and so they can pass along the knowledge.

these words. these words and phrases and ideas. they just kept spilling out from a place close to the right side of my head and out of my mouth. i was surprised by how wise and confident they were, considering i had no control over them and didn’t feel like i was making things up, performing a magic trick. this was making sense to him. what was happening in the moment, was completely unexpected, but we both could feel it was important. and i was learning from these words at the same time he was absorbing it.

when i was done, he bowed his head, processing. then he looked up and said, “thank you. i am grateful that you chose to communicate with me.” i said your welcome.

but then the other part of me got conscious, insecure. “that was weird, what just happened, right?”

he smiled and nodded sincerely. “yeah, that was definitely unusual and unique.”

i was a little embarrassed and a little terrified. “i don’t know how i do that. it’s like something is speaking through me and just using me to deliver it.”

“i think god speaks through you.” he was serious.

“i don’t know where it comes from, but i know it’s a positive energy that changes people’s lives.”

he takes his time to gather his thoughts before he speaks, slowly.

“i know that i will remember you for the rest of my life. i will remember the time you granted to spend with me, and the message you gave me. there are times when you realize you will always remember someone, and i know, in this moment, that i will always remember you, because this has been significant.”

i’m blown away. this man is so incredibly honest, and i’m grateful to him beyond words. he is looking at me in the way that i know he’s surprised to suddenly find that he’s in love with me, and i am suddenly feeling self-conscious, shy.

“be careful,” i say.

a tiny smile around his lips. “of what?”

“i can’t let anyone get close to me.”


“because if i love someone, if i commit to someone, i will want to give all this energy to one person. and my gut tells me that this is selfish, to only give to one person. that i’m not living up to my potential of the positive changes i could help other people with, even though i hope that some day, this path will be complete so i can settle down and live a normal life with people close to me.”

my loneliness is radiating out of my chest, overwhelming me, almost a physical sadness. a part of me wants him to say, you don’t have to do this anymore…it’s okay.

“you’re of the wind. you’re like a gypsy, going where you’re needed. it’s very cool. what you do is a good thing that the world needs, so it’s important that you keep doing it.”

my heart sinks. i wanted to be off the hook.

he looks at me for a long time, and i get a little nervous. i don’t like it when people direct all their attention a
t me when it’s just me. because i am not it. he asks me if i want any water, any ice cream, anything to make me more comfortable. he’s very concerned. i tell him not to worry about me. he says, “i want to give you a present. i just don’t know what yet, but i want to give you a present.”

i say, “why? you don’t have to give me anything.”

he says, “i feel like you just gave me a lot, and i want to give you something back.”

i say, “it’s okay. you don’t have to give me anything.”

he asks me, “what do you get out of this? delivering these messages to people?”

no one has ever cared enough to ask me that. he surprises me.

“if these messages help people discover their true paths, they’ll find peace and contentment in their hearts. they’ll radiate love which will in turn, affect the people around them. it makes this world a better place by expanding awareness of our connections with each other, and this is important to me, because this is the path i serve. i remind people that there is a greater power out there, and not to lose faith in themselves and their own unique paths. in terms of just for me, it’s like if we didn’t have such things are mirrors, you would never be able to see what you look like. i have no accurate mirror. i don’t understand what this is, what happens, because it’s like i go into another room, but i can hear what’s going on, but i can’t see. i have no idea what i look like, how people perceive me, what i look like from the outside when this is happening. when i have this type of connection with someone, usually they’ll give me something, a clue that helps me understand who i am, what i am. because i honestly have no idea, and it tortures me to not know what i look like. i’ve always felt like my life purpose, i’m searching for an answer to a question i don’t even know. and i keep searching and searching. but then i meet someone and have a connection like we just did, and it’s like, unexpectedly, we find that i am the answer to their question.” he nods enthusiastically. “it’s unbelievable but it’s true,” he says.

“when i tell people these things and they realize that what is happening is the answer to something they’ve been searching for whether or not they were conscious of it, like a key and a lock, my hope is that they’ve gained enough understanding to explain to me, what is the question that i have just answered? because i seem to be answering the same question, because it’s similar people in similar stages of their lives that are drawn to me. that is ultimately what i’m trying to understand. it’s so mysterious and frustrating. but i think that a lot of us are like that. we are the unique answers to a lot of other people’s soul questions, and when we meet, the riddle is complete, even though each side doesn’t necessarily know which mystery was just given light. you are the unique answer for certain people’s questions, and you know this when you meet them and a whole other level reveals itself.”

he nods. “thank you. thank you for spending this time with me. what you do is almost like divine communication, it’s a power that comes from inside you that that is so positive and full of love, that a person who hears the message opens up and also responds to you with love. it’s an incredible and beautiful experience. there is a part of me now that truly and deeply cares for you.”

the me that is not fully developed hears this and gets scared, even though the higher part of me asks me to calm down. “you have to be careful. i don’t know how to let people get close to me because it’s terrifying to me. i try to live gently and carefully, but i’ve also got defenses that are not nice to keep people out that i can’t control yet so i don’t want to accidentally hurt you. just know that the message has nothing to do with the messenger, that i’m a fucked up flawed human being just trying to find my way like everyone else. i’m a kid…so know that what is happening is not me, but happening through me. i’m a ghost. i deliver messages and disappear. you might not ever see me again, but know that what was exchanged was real and for you.”

don’t become attached to me, is what i’m saying. from this point on, i can only disappoint you.

“so this may be it?” he says.

“i don’t know,” i say. because i really don’t. we stay up until 3am, like we know, as soon as this connection is over, as soon as day breaks, the magic will be gone. and then we are again, two people, on separate paths, serving our own unique purposes.

believe in magic, is the last thing i tell him. this world is full of magic. and if you believe in it, that we can change the world with our minds, our hearts and our energy, you will meet more people just like you and i to remind you that you are not alone. you will meet those who are also hiding, thinking to themselves that they are alone in their uniqueness. the ignorant who held power have taken advantage of us when we were young, manipulating us to believe we are the lesser minority that is inferior, broken, defective, because the truth was threatening and opened up questions that they had no answers to. the truth of our difference is that we are courageous, wise, powerful and more aware of our connection to the greater entity outside of our bodies. this awareness, once embraced, makes us the shepherds for those who vibrate at lower levels and have fear in their hearts. we have power if we can focus it, to make change, to heal. believe that there are others out there, and you’ll be drawn to each other, to teach and to learn, so you won’t be afraid to believe in yourself and your unique purpose. don’t feel alone, because you’re not.

he really is a lovely person whose receptiveness and kindness allowed me to listen and learn as well. i am thankful for having met him and spent time with him.

nevertheless, i woke up this morning, melancholy, feeling like i lost something i really loved.

he closed his eyes and tried to imagine her–the way the low timbre of her voice hinted at a bitter, brooding storm caged grudgingly just below the surface, the way she moved that was equally as terrifying as exhilarating. he wasn’t sure if he could even remember what she looked like, only the dark shadow that had invaded his headspace like a fog with teeth, muting his senses whenever he looked at her, convincing him there had to be a connection, that this was all for him, perhaps willing it, like a welcomed illness or addiction. she made him feel imbalanced, uneven, kinetic–trembling on the verge of something redemptive or something tragic, either of which he was more than willing to accept as long as he could have his satisfaction. he wanted a peek behind the curtain. he wanted to consume her secrets.

i’ll get inside your head if you let me, he heard her say. and then you can see, what happens to a man seduced by a ghost.

a chill ran through him, dispatched by the tiny logical minority living in his left brain that still cared about keeping his world intact. he wasn’t sure if it was a wish or a surrender that had allowed the voice in, or even if the voice was just a masquerade of something surfacing within the depths of himself, pleading for a stupendously gruesome trainwreck that might shake him out of his infinite stupor. but now that she was inside him, he felt resigned to let things run its course. the muscles in his shoulders melted as he settled deeper into his office chair, his hands falling loosely above his thighs. a beacon of pulse throbbed a desperate s.o.s. into the tips of his fingers as he felt himself slip away, the words, sometimes devastation can be lyrical if you look hard enough, echoing in the space behind his ears.

it would only be a matter of time.

full moon tonight is very powerful.
wherever you all are do your hardest to believe in magic.

So let’s say you go to bar and there happens to be a minority TV industry networking event going on. Let’s say you crash it and pretend you’re with the group. Out of the blue, a guy starts chattin you up. Let’s say suddenly a possessive girl who feels she already has dibs comes pushing through the crowd, and sticks her hand in your face to introduce herself, because all 5 foot 9 aggro African-American of her wants you to know this is her prey, her conversation, and you had better back the fuck up. How do you get out of this situation without any she-cat scratches on your dignity or your corneas?

I decided not only was I not gonna back down, but I was gonna do the opposite. I gave her my biggest, most disarming smile and looked at her like she’s the most interesting person in the room. I shook her hand warmly and ask her where she works. She tells me and I ask her what they do, listening attentively. I’m completely ignoring the guy. She goes into a long-winded rambling explanation then decides to just finish it by saying it’s a TV network that’s like the one the guy works for, but without protestors in front of the building. I say, seeing from the way you carry yourself, it sounds classy as well. She looks pleasantly surprised, then says, “Yeah, it is. Thank you.” She’s grinning, defenses gone. The guy had joked with me that his network has too much “titty-bouncing” before she got there, so I say, “Yeah, it’s not like all the titty-bouncing they got over on his network…” She laughs and he laughs. They each thought they were in on an inside joke against the other person. The ice was broken and we started joking around. I looked at her and then him, both so giddy and nervous, and thought, is this how threesomes start? We were still joking around when my boss pulled me away to take a company group picture (I forgot to mention, I was there having a company celebratory dinner. Let’s just say I’ve been bitching the last month about wanting to move to San Francisco and being an all around disgruntled bitch around the office, and tonight, as a surprise, they present me with an award for outstanding service along with a five-digit bonus in hopes that I’ll stay. Uh, come again? Ladies, I will only say it once–Men. Love. Bitches. I know, it’s completely depressing to me, too.) So as we got ready for the picture, the guys were cracking up about how they had been watching me to see how I planned to work the crowd. How that guy started talking to me and within moments, the girl came steaming towards us from the other side of the bar, getting in my face to cockblock me, but whatever I did, they were both flirting with me at the end. I told them, you just have to know how to talk to people. You get into people by making them feel that in your eyes, in that moment, they’re the most beautiful, amazing creatures you’ve ever seen, and then you own them.

You’re drunk, my coworker says as he puts his arm around me, and you have a big ego.

You love me, I say.

You’re definitely interesting, he says, and I lean my intoxicated head into his chest.

Meanwhile, the coworker I’ve been spending a lot of time with, my little Scorpio protege/tormentor, was jealous of me getting the award and the bonus. It was so hard core he could barely look me in the eye. I saw it on his face the way I see it on a lot of guys I’ve dated in the past when they see my car, or my house, or how many friends I have or some other form of envy. It’s always disappointing. It’s like something about another person’s success shakes up a jealous person’s inner core so they feel their sense of self threatened. I sat across from him at dinner and he was acting weird, so I just said straight up, you’re jealous that I got this. He looks surprised and said straight up, yeah I am! I said, you’re a little bitch because if you had gotten this, I would have been happy for you, and still happy with myself. He says, sometimes you’ve gotta be a hater, which then sparked a group lecture from two more spiritual coworkers on either side of him about being being a bigger person.

After dinner, he gave me a ride to my car and I started laughing. “I can’t believe you were jealous. That’s so fucked up. “

He told me how jealousy fuels his success and was cocky about it. I told him that he can’t think of other people’s success as being in direct competition with his. He says that there’s always a winner and always a loser, like in sports. He says, there’s always a loser, and it’s not gonna be me.

I said yeah, in sports, we may care who wins during the game. But when it’s over, we just remember that we had fun and maybe we learned something, we got better, whatever, but that’s what it’s about. No one remembers who won or lost a game in the long run. And also, I could knock someone down in the context of the game and it would be fine. But if I knock someone down on the street, it’s totally inappropriate. There’s a place for everything but sometimes you have to see the bigger picture. It’s a big enough universe for everyone.

He tries to tell me that life is a war and it’s kill or be killed, and he thinks that way because he spent his childhood in Israel and life was a war. I tell him, I grew up with someone who approaches life as war and spends her life strategizing and vigilant in recognizing perceived threats, so I know what that’s like and I have it in me. There’s a time when you need that capability, when you’re fighting for something or in the presence of people who are undermining you. But the key is to know the difference. So many soldiers fight a war and then come back and fail in society, because they don’t know how to adjust. A true warrior can fight in times of war, but thrive in times of peace. A true warrior knows the difference.

He says so what that I felt jealous and couldn’t be happy for you for like two minutes. you’re so on top of it, you noticed these things immediately and I couldn’t even hide it. I can’t even let myself feel jealous for two minutes. That’s your thing, you’re so aggressive and you point out people’s flaws when they’re vulnerable and it’s like kicking a guy when they’re down.

I tell him that’s the thing men don’t understand about people like me. We never kick with the intent to hurt. We can’t help seeing things, but when we look at people, we aren’t looking for flaws, we’re looking at the whole picture and we see everything realistically, your strengths and weaknesses, but we love you as a whole, both good and bad because we’re all human, so you can stop obsessing about hiding what you think are flaws. But the problem is YOU don’t accept the flaws yourself. I come from such a good, caring place, and you can’t even comprehend that because you’re so threatened. So look at yourself before you start pinning it on me as a way that I’m judging you because I’m not. It’s about the potential you have and how you get in your own way, why you’re always telling me you’re not satisfied with your life. There’s so much abundance in the world that everyone can be successful. Why the fuck do you have to be successful in the same way as other people and obsess about it when you’re really just avoiding your own dreams?

He said, because I want to be better than people because I want to be in control at all times.

Do think you have control over me?

Yeah, I’m in complete control of the situation.

Really. You have control.

He hesitates, then says, yeeee…ah.

You don’t have any control over me.

Well, you don’t see it, but–

How can you have any control if you can’t even catch me?

He lets out a string of sounds but doesn’t really complete a thought.

You’re dealing with a world class athlete here, and the only thing I was built to do is run. Look at my body, look at how athletic I am. Look at how fast I type. How fast I think. Everything about me is about going as fast as possible. And that’s because I have one goal and one goal only, and that
is to not ever get caught. What makes you think you can possibly outrun me when this is all I do? What makes you think you can ever be faster than me?

I can’t, he says, quietly.

But why would you think you have to be? You don’t need to be. You’re outstanding in other ways. It’s like this. If I really admire a friend and she’s a world famous violinist, I’m not gonna say, holy crap, she’s so good at violin, I’ve gotta be as good as her, and then waste my life trying to be as good as her when violin isn’t my destiny. I’m gonna say, even though I love music but I’m not musically talented, I’m good at other things, like basketball and writing, and I hope that she’s as impressed by my unique successes as I am of hers.

So I guess I’m yelling at him, not out of anger but out of passion, hanging halfway out of his car because I don’t want to be in an enclosed space with him. My bosses drive by and wave with these little smiles on their faces, and I say, Oh crap. Now everyone’s gonna think we’re dating.
He says, whatever, who cares.

But I don’t like this.

The thing is, I’m not emotionally involved here outside of our friendship or mentorship or whatever it is we are. I’m not engaged in his romantic projection that he keeps pushing onto me. I’m a slab of ice on the inside because I don’t have any desire of a shared romantic path with him, even though my head is connected and for whatever reason, we keep talking. I hate office rumors because they only turn ugly.

Now I’m really irritated so I say, Men love bitches. Straight up. You love bitches. I treat you so badly, and I don’t treat anyone like this, because you do dumb shit to provoke me because it’s what you want. Stop being a little bitch and grow up. I’m tired of this dynamic. Just take the freakin’ message so we can both move on. Whatever potential it was that you felt you had but people didn’t see in you while you were growing up, get over the bullshit and just go out and be who you are if that’s what you want. Go be successful if you really want it so badly. Figure out what you want to do to be successful and do it. But stop trying to get people to treat you badly just because you get off on it and it distracts you from pursuing the things that you wish you had that other people have.

He nods somberly. You’re right.

He tells me to get in the car and smoke a bowl with him. I say no. He asks me again and I say no again. He says, you’re really irritating me right now.

I say, I irritate you all the time. I’m actually completely irritating to you across the boards.

He looks out the windshield for a while then says, you know, all this time we’ve been talking and spending time, I never really got it, but I just got what you’ve been saying tonight. Everything you’ve been trying to say to me.

Really? I say. It’s been a long battle and a part of me doesn’t believe he’ll ever give in.

He says, yeah, I get what you’re saying about my life and what I need to do. Just right now. I just got it.

Good, I say. I give it a respectful pause. Then we’re done here?

I can tell from his eyes, he doesn’t quite know how to take that question.

We’re done, he says.

I smile.

I close the door, then leave.

see, who you are is like a million polarities simultaneously attracted and repelled to different degrees at different times, forming a complex system that continually changes with different aspects dominating depending on the degree of tension between certain polarities.

if you want to explore certain things, ideas or perspectives, you imagine particular polarities and you stretch them as far apart from each other as you can like a rubber band, putting great energy and thought into one concept/point/image/idea, then opposing energy and thought into the other. basically, you have to believe in both equally strongly, until they are almost the same thing to you. because at some point in the infinity continuum, polar opposites co-exist as the exact same point. this is why it’s very very important to make sure you identify concepts in direct opposition or you’ll see that it doesn’t work. you need to be as extreme as possible, exerting as much energy simultaneously into both, but ideally, you exert an equal amount of energy into each polarity so that it is balanced. and through that aggravated tension, new syntheses of idea are born by observing what is revealed in the tension between the polarities.

my point is, don’t read too much into things. i do my best to entertain strangers, update friends, etc., but this has always been first and foremost my mental training space.

believe whatever you want to believe. that’s the beauty of it, because i am whatever you want to believe, and that’s all that matters. it has nothing to do with me.

but those who know me, know the truth, and that’s the beauty of that as well.

i am nothing
i am insignificant
just a whirlwind of half-materialized hopes and dreams masquerading as the shadow of an almost human being
borne of a seething loneliness that managed to grow itself a set of teeth.
but sometimes i remind you of something nagging
deep inside yourself just out of your grasp that you love or hate
but you can’t quite figure out which

just give it time.

you’ll soon find out there’s not much difference.


it’s all bullshit.

this tearing myself down then building myself up.

tearing myself down

building myself up

tearing myself down

tearing myself down

tearing myself down

with practice, i am getting faster at it. soon i’ll be a new person every morning that i wake up.

it’s all a restart. new life, a new personality.

yet nothing really changes except your memory gets worse. and then people on the street are saying hi to you and recognizing you, but you don’t know who they are.

i think it’s like drugs, this process.

the more you do it, the more and more you lose a little bit of yourself, yet you’re compelled to keep going.

it’s like a snake. shedding. but instead of growing, something in you gets smaller. and the other voices get more distinct.

i tell you though. snakes are beautiful creatures.

colin told me that when a writer creates a character, that character stays with him for the rest of his life.

i said, i know. they haunt you.

i asked him if the characters in a person’s head are coming or going. do they only come in when you make them up because by imagining them you’ve invited them in, or are writers just crazy people who spend their lives desperately trying to exorcise these screaming tormented souls who were born into the world with them, demanding a voice, so that one day they can have the peace of a quiet mind? maybe we talk to dead people and don’t even know it. maybe we are the dead people, and don’t even know it.

i will say this though.

you can listen to us, but be aware. writers walk the edge of darkness like madmen along midnight train tracks. we are the quicksand that entices you with hypnotic promises of adventure, knowing full well that to accept us is to succumb to us. when we invite you in for a ride, you trust us not to lead you to someplace damaging, destructive. someplace so completely raw and overwhelmingly intimate as to destroy all boundaries. all sense of reality. but to be honest, that requires a lot of restraint. to not fuck with that trust. to not fuck with the fact that you trust us not to reach into your heads and fuck you where you’re the most vulnerable, where all that is logical is clutched tightly so that everything is in its place, a reality that’s compartmentalized and predictable. continuity is comfortable, isn’t it? yeah, it makes you feel like you actually have some control over your destiny. but you know it’s fragile. a person’s tenuous grasp on his perception of reality is his weakest link. admit it. we depend on the visions, ideas and inspiration of people who straddle the frail, frail line between genius and madness, hoping that what they project to us is the truth that could save us. there’s a 50/50 chance you’re following a madman into the abyss.

i’m just saying that every coin has 3 sides.

2 that belong to him.

and the 1 that is his shadow.

i’m going into withdrawals because i’m forcing isolation on myself and half of me is struggling. sometimes i have to bitch slap her and lock her in the dungeon. i never claimed i wasn’t a sadist.

yesterday i admitted to a complete stranger that i lie just to make sure that no one knows completely who i am. but maybe that’s a lie, too.

because sometimes i lie about lying, to distract you from the fact that i am by honor bound to express truth and vulnerability. but the rules don’t forbid the simultaneous projection of smoke.

how much do you hate an unreliable narrator?

they say that handwriting is very indicative of your personality.

i can’t even present myself in a straight line. is it any surprise that i’m completely motorly impaired in my ability to draw one?

anyway, like i was saying, withdrawals. and it somehow shattered my sense of self tonight, so it’s like looking at myself in a prism. this is good because it means the process has started. pretty soon, the characters will begin. how dangerous is it that i’m allowing pluto to lead me right now? i never said i wasn’t scared. courage is knowing you should be scared, but following through anyway. i guess you could say, so is stupidity.

(to be honest with you, sometimes i look at my words and i don’t know where the fuck they come from. it’s like a room full of people all crowding for the same videophone yelling things at it. and julia is just the mouthpiece).

i am a trustworthy person who can not be trusted? i am an honest liar? i am the smartest retarded person you ever met? or am i the most pathetic piece of brilliance to ever stick to the bottom of your shoe? perhaps i am just a lurking shadow of everything you don’t want to look at. just a ghost that got stuck in the spaces in between.

don’t anyone come near me right now. the weather today is stormy with an 83% chance of locusts.

To the Recurring Guy in My Dreams Whose Face I Can’t See–

Whoever you are, I can’t ever remember your face so sorry if I have no idea who you are. But thanks for always dropping by my dreamscape and hanging out. Do you like how the entire place is white and soft? Yeah, I love it. Anyway, I know I always say that I’m going to remember you when I wake up, but I’ll be honest, I’m not a good waker-upper. I’m so groggy in the morning that by the time I figure out who I am and where I am, I’ve forgotten most of the visuals of my dreams. I’m just happy when I recognize if the seat cover is up or down before I pee. This is all I know:

1. you spend a lot of time alone at home listening to music.
2. your energy feels very mature in that your energy is stable and protective, but there’s something childlike about you.
3. you drive a dark-colored car.
4. your name starts with a D i think. There’s a hard D.
5. you seem significantly bigger than me. your shoulders look nice in a sweater, which surprised me because i usually think men look stupid in sweaters.
6. you’re a warm person who makes me feel comfortable.

Yeah so, stop dancing around me. Run into me, or I’ll run into you. And we’ll go out. It’ll be like a Match.com date. But much much more surreal.

It’s definitely started, the descent. I see now that the last few months where I’ve learned about my own personal power have been a spiritual training of sorts to increase my strength before I embark on this journey. I hope that the end result is creative, cathartic and something that I am finally willing to show the world.

I was falling asleep last week and I saw my parents’ house, the house I grew up in. I’ve always sworn up and down that the house was haunted, ever since we moved in back in 1986. My hometown was built upon Indian land, and growing up, we’ve heard plenty of stories about Indian burial grounds and people who have seen spirits in their homes, the legless ghosts being the ones that most intrigued me. I’ve never seen a manifestation of a ghost there, but there was always an energy…and you were constantly feeling like you weren’t alone in any given room, or that there was someone or something watching you.

As I was falling asleep, I realized that over Labor Day weekend, the house would be empty with my dad in China and the rest of my family vacationing in Reno (sidenote: Reno is my least favorite city of all time). I realized that I’ve never spent a night alone in that house–there was always a nanny or relative, or if I was gonna be alone, I would spend the night elsewhere. I realized that maybe it was time to confront the house.

I had something to do on Saturday morning, but I drove up to Fremont without packing anything but my laptop, ipod and notebook. It was completely spontaneous. It was a great drive and plus, I was breaking in my new car. For the first time, I didn’t speed outrageously, and I didn’t race anyone. I like that I’m much more respectful of the value of my life these days despite being faced with prolonged boredom. (sidenote: this heatwave is killer. It was 121 degrees just south of Gilroy, and yet I saw people working the fields in jeans and long-sleeved shirts. Whatever your station in life, always be thankful because it could always be worse). On the way up, my mom called and she wanted to know what I was doing. I told her I was going to a secret place and she said that I should tell someone so it’s not 100% a secret, in case anything happened to me. I thought about it and it made sense, so I told her I was going home. I told her I wanted to spend the night by myself to confront my fear of the house and to stand up to the ghosts and she laughed nervously. “Oh honey…the house isn’t haunted.” But she added quickly, “But even if it is, I think they’re friendly, helpful ghosts.” She said that she thought I perceived the house as haunted because of the bad relationship of my parents and all their negative energy, so that since the house was empty, it wouldn’t feel bad. That was definitely a theory I wanted to keep in mind.

I got to Fremont around 7pm, and settled in. I walked through the house, announced my arrival but of course, the one room I just couldn’t go into was the guest room (I’ve always felt that the energy centered around the guest room, which always feels drafty and heavy. Reggie once commented on the same thing and I told him that when we first moved in, that was supposed to be my room but I spent a few minutes in there and begged to be switched to another room). I turned on the jacuzzi, stripped, and went skinny dipping, which I’ve never done before.

Something that I really never fully appreciated about our house. We’re up on a hill in the boonies overlooking the city and the bay, so when you look out, it’s all city lights for as far as the eye can see. There’s a lot of separation and trees between the houses, so there’s only one house that borders us, but they can’t see us because of the walls and tall redwood trees. Our pool is landscaped to look like a natural pond, with a wood deck, stone setting surrounded by trees and a waterfall. The sky was clear so the stars stood brilliantly against the navy sky. It felt like I was at a private hideaway, protected in complete isolation. I thought about life, and people and what I wanted of myself. I realized that my focus is so scattered, that I’ve never envisioned an ideal future for myself, to create a projected goal that I can work towards. That’s definitely one of my biggest problems, how I scatter my energies. I thought about who I wanted to be, and imagined what I would look like, how I would feel, and who and what I would have in my life. I realized I needed to write all this down and envision this future every day. I need to focus. I also recognized that I’m on the verge of outputting something very important to me and that will require a lot of courage, but I’m having trouble starting it, so I’ve been working on it from the middle. All I know is that I’m determined to have it dominate me this fall. It’s all I think about, it’s all I want. I’ve said goodbye to a lot of people lately and let them know that I’m going underground, but that it’s not personal but this is just something I have to do…to focus. I’ve just gotta board up my head, so the energy can only go in one direction. But I’ll be back when I’m done. I felt good. I’m facing a huge unknown, I’m standing at the edge of the woods on the outskirt of my comfort zone, and I’m just waiting for the signal to begin the plunge. But I’m prepared. As I was treading water and staring at the sky thinking all these things, I saw movement in the water next to me. I look over and there is the most beautiful black snake with crisp white rings swimming through the water. If you’ve ever seen a snake swim, it’s the most beautiful, graceful process. It was just a baby, but I was mesmerized. I swam after it for a bit, watching it carve the surface of the water until I realized, wait a minute. 1. I’m in a pool, not a pond, so this is strange that I’m swimming with a snake; 2. There are no water snakes where I am, so I don’t know if this snake really wants to be in the water or can survive; 3. That’s not a garter snake and it’s too dark to see it’s head for me to tell if it’s poisonous. So suddenly I think it’s a good idea to get out of the pool. I get out and I’m watching it, and it’s going around and around the edge of the pool. I realize it’s trying to get out. I follow it and I still can’t see it’s head, but I also knew that coral snakes have bands and couldn’t remember the indigenous habitats for coral snakes (I used to read up on snakes as a kid, but suddenly, all this knowledge was failing me when I needed it). I kind of just wanted to leave, but then I worried that if a snake isn’t a natural water snake, if it would eventually drown. And then it would be my fault. It also occurred to me that in a lot of mythology, gods and goddesses can turn themselves into creatures to teach or test you, and if you fail, you’re in trouble. And if this was a test and I let this snake die, I’m seriously an asshole.

So I decided to rescue it. I didn’t have the guts to pick it up, but I also figured I didn’t want to take too much time, because it was circling around the edge of the pool and I was afraid it would get to the barrier between the pool and jacuzzi, which is lower, and boil itself. Keep in mind, I’m still naked. So I’m looking for the pool net, and I see some poles standing next to a tree in the middle of all these bushes. I’m thinking, okay, that’s what I need, but we also have a lot of spiders and I have pretty intense arachnaphobia. Specifically, I’m terrified of black widows, which live outside around our house. So I’m naked and barefoot, and to save this snake, I’ve gotta crash through this heavy brush to get the pool net, and suddenly I’m thinking this is either a spiritual test from the universe to face my fears, or this is an opening to Six Feet Under where some dumbass dies in a random, weird way–specifically for me, my family returns from their vacation to find me naked, drowned and floating facedown in their pool with a black widow bite on one buttcheek and a snakebite on the other. I desperately don’t want to be in the running for a Darwin Award. So I decide to face my fears and crash through
the bushes, even though I can feel me breaking through spiderwebs. I get to the tree and examine the poles to find that they’re 3 poles, but all with no nets attached. I see another pole lying on the ground that’s a little hike away, so I crash through more bushes and spider webs to find that this one has a net attached, but it’s filled to the brim with caked mud and leaves. DOES NO ONE CLEAN THIS POOL? Fuck.

I go back and I swear I feel things crawling on me, but I suppress the urge to jump into the pool with the maybe/maybe-not poisonous snake. I have an epiphany and go into the house, grabbing a garbage can from the office. I use it to scoop up the snake who’s so anxious and timid, that it shies away every time I come near it so I’m convinced it’s not poisonous. The poor little thing was terrified. I got him in the trashcan, then tossed him into the bushes. The whole thing took about 45 minutes, but I felt really good at having gotten him out of the pool, though not good enough to dump out the remaining pool water from the trash can, so I put it back in the office for my family to discover (sidenote: I’m a lazy tool.) I figured that if that was a spiritual test to show that I am willing to put doing good for other beings over my own personal fears, then I proved that not only am I not a slave to my fears, but that I obviously have no qualms about doing good while completely butt naked.

I went inside, had a beer, did some writing, re-experienced the greatest conscious trauma of my life and was able to make some new discoveries about it and how it has affected my desire and ability to let people come close to me. While I was writing, I kept hearing footsteps and what sounded like someone moving things around in the kitchen. But every time I went in there, there was no one there and everything was in the same place. But after I would go back into the living room, the noises and footsteps would start back up again. It sounded like someone would walk into the kitchen, snack, then leave. Then come back and snack, then leave. I showered and played piano for a while, but at randomly times, I would hear what sounded like a woman singing in the next room. After a while, I started to get a little creeped out so I went to bed.

In terms of the value of going home, it was what I needed. It turned out to be a little writer’s retreat and I was able to confront some major fears and experiences. In terms of our house, maybe my mom was right. I always thought our house was haunted by very angry, disruptive energy, but I think that was what my parents fed the house. While it was empty, it felt very serene, almost maternally protective, but you never shake the feeling that you’re being watched no matter where you are. Sometimes you would be in a room, and you’ll see movement out of the corner of your eye, like someone just walked in through the doorway, but when you turn, there’s no one there, yet it feels like there’s someone there with you. And I’ve never been in a house before that had so many unaccounted for sounds. The singing and the footsteps were definitely unnerving. All in all, I never felt unsafe, if not the complete opposite.

When I left the next day, I stood in the center of the entryway and said goodbye and thank you.

I drove back, getting in really late at night and met up with Colin who had just flown in from a sailing trip in Washington. He was staying with us just for one night while he settles his living situation, so we had some tequila and good conversation. I told him that while the Sun was in Leo, I wore red every day to attract creativity and fire qualities and he said that the color red to an Aries is like waving a red flag at a bull…they just want to charge it. I said that made a lot of sense, because I definitely was meeting and interacting with a lot of Aries all of a sudden in August. But lately, my life has been crowded with Scorpios.

On Monday, the heat was killing me. I decided to not go to my usual spots and instead, I ran errands then ended up at a Barnes and Noble to do some writing. I walked in and the place was crowded because it’s a new store that had just opened up. I was looking around for a place to sit when this guy drawing in a sketchbook asked me if I was looking for a place to sit, and if I wanted to, I could sit with him. I kind of didn’t want to because I wasn’t sure I wanted to be obligated into a conversation, so I said that it was okay, because I had a lot of stuff. But then I saw that he was drawing, so I asked him if he was an artist (I’m looking for an artist to collaborate with me on my book of poetry, a collaborative exploration of inspiration). He said he was and invited me to sit again, so I sat down and we chatted.

We talked about perspective and he wanted to show me his drawings. As I flipped through, I saw something about neurofeedback so I asked him about it. He said he has a friend who is really smart, but has a learning disability so he has trouble expressing his intelligence, like he can’t get the thoughts out of his head when he needs to. So someone told him that neurofeedback might help him, so he took down the name of a book for his friend. I listened and I asked him if it’s like his friend’s mind is a hard drive that saves a file but forgets the location, so he has trouble retrieving files in his head, even though he knows they’re there. He looked surprised and said, that’s exactly it. So his friend has a hard time showing how smart he is because he can’t arrange or grab the ideas or thoughts and express them in a way that people can understand. I told him that maybe his friend doesn’t have a learning disability, but is actually really smart. That a lot of times, brilliant people get diagnosed with a learning disability because their thought processes are unique or wired differently, so their mind works outside of linear thought. How linear thought, linear time/space are all illusions, just constructs to give human perspective a point of reference, but sometimes, people who are smarter can see beyond it, but they also have to train their brain to work within linearity so that they can communicate with people who are bound by those constructs. He listened and he said that this was crazy because he understood exactly what I meant. But he asked me, how do you reorganize your mind so that you can function and communicate everything you see? I said a lot of it come down to focus. For example, say you want to paint this cup. So you decide on a perspective. But someone who can see everything, will simultaneously see all perspectives at once, and it gets overwhelming. It’s like those security control centers where they have a huge grid of all these monitors showing perspectives from different security cameras at the same time. You’re aware of all of the possibilities. But knowing that, you have to decide which perspective you want, or which thought line you want to express or pursue, then put aside all the other ones, follow that one through, and if it’s not what you want or if you want to express something else, then you go back, pick another one, and follow it through. Sometimes people who are really smart, when they are posed a simple question or topic, they have all these thoughts and questions or points, that it’s like having all these marbles in their hands. So even though they want to show you this one green one in their right hand, they’re afraid if they have to drop all the other marbles to show you this one. And they don’t want to lose the other marbles. But you have to figure out a way to find a safe place to put down the other marbles, so you can show people these marbles one by one.

He started drawing as I was talking, drawing out marbles and said that this made sense to him. I told him that he must be a great friend to help out his friend this way. He said that he would like to think that his friends would do the same for him. Secretly, I wondered if he was talking about himself.

We started talking about inspiration and where it comes from, about how art and expression in
volves a connection between the artist and the universe, and between the artist and the perceiver. And how something that is truthfully expressed may not be “liked” by everyone, but it will cause changes or doors opening inside the people who are open to certain ideas or messages.

We started talking about how we see things and people. He asked me if I was good at characters because I seemed to know a lot about people and I said that I can look at someone and read them, their hopes and dreams, their worries and fears, the way a doctor can feel your body and “read” you. But you read some people better than others because their more of a reflection of you or their reflections are in direct opposition to yours so it still is recognizable, or they are reflecting symbols that you’ve had personal experience with.

We started talking about interactions with people is often just people trying to understand themselves, so everyone is trying to find self-understanding by watching the person across from them, or by their own reaction to the relationship or chemistry between the other person. He asked me what I got from him, and he told me what he got from me. He noted that sometimes I seem anxious. I said it’s because this is the type of conversation that, once it’s open, it can consume me and pull me away from focusing it on one project at a time. I laughed and said, you know your friend that you were talking about? I have the same problem. He laughs and said, then why are you giving advice on how to deal with it? I said it’s because I know how to overcome it, I just haven’t been completely successful at it yet.

He asked me, is it a burden to be enlightened? I thought about it and I answered truthfully. “Sometimes you get unbelievably lonely…especially when people think you know too much or will find out too much about them, so they don’t want you near them.” He looked at me and I got nervous, so I said I was going to get a drink, and walked away.

I came back and he looked at his watch and said, do you know you’ve been sitting here and talking for 3 hours and you haven’t done any work? I was surprised because I didn’t think it had been more than 45 minutes. I was waiting for the table next to us to open up and was surprised that so much time had passed. I pulled out my notebook and started writing, but he kept talking me.

At one point, I was saying something and he squinted, like he was trying to look deep inside me. I said, “You just beamed me.” He looked surprised and said, “What?” I said, “You just sent a beam inside me to see if what I said matches up with my insides.” He’s surprised and caught off guard. “Uh, yeah, I beamed you. Wow, I’ve never been called out like that before.” I said, “It’s okay, I do the same thing…I just never realized what it looks like. I guess that’s why when people see me do it, sometimes they can get uncomfortable.” He asked me, “Do you know what I saw?” I said, “No, I only know you did it…I can’t read what information you took back with you.” He laughed, but he didn’t tell me what he saw, though every time I started getting uncomfortable because I got confused about what was happening here, he would read my expression. Honestly, it felt like I was learning what it feels like to be on the other side of me, how it must feel when other people have this type of connection or conversation with me.

I also found out that I couldn’t stop myself and I was talking about things, but as I was saying them, I was listening to myself and learning. I told him how I’m working on this project that’s very personal and important to me, but I was having a hard time because I wasn’t sure of the tone yet. How I’m reading Chuck Palahniuk because I feel like mentally, our perspectives are similar, but sometimes he makes things harder for the reader, like it’s a fuck you if you can’t keep up or understand kind of stance. I’m not yet sure how I want to treat my readers yet…if I want to open up and allow them to understand so that those who are secretly hiding similar pain and histories can relate and use this story as guidance out of their own cages, or if I want to write from a more mental fuck-you stance where I completely ignore the emotional implications of the story and say to the reader, this is my mind, this is my story…you might find it interesting but in terms of how to deal with your shit…that’s not my responsibility.

As I was listening to myself, realized that this was a struggle that I’ve been debating under the surface, but which wasn’t conscious until now. But with a chance meeting of a stranger in a bookstore, I had now made a serious, much needed discovery and now it was helping me move forward.

I looked at him, and I wanted to know. “When’s your birthday?” I asked him. No explanation. Just a very direct expectation of an honest answer.

“The 14th,” he said.

“What month?”


I looked at him, an ironic smile on my face.

“You mean Flag Day?”

“Yeah,” he said, surprised that I would know such a random bit of trivia.

“Let me show you something.”

I take out my wallet and pull out my driver’s license, handing it over, only realizing too late that my address was on there. Oh well.

He looked. We have the same birthday.

“Whoa, that’s crazy,” he said, examining my license.

I looked at this guy who I just completely lost track of time with talking about inspiration and perspective and human mirroring and connections…and suddenly felt overwhelmed that we shared the same birthday. Are we indeed natural mirrors for each other? Is this a generous sign from the universe that some things are not coincidences on an objective plane and I’m moving on the right track?

As you know 614 is my favorite number because it’s my birthright. It breaks down to 11, which is the symbol of an innovative but humane leader who ushers the masses into higher awareness and growth. June 14th is one of the symbols that I hold as sacred.

I’ve only met 2 other people with my birthday, both significant meetings. And here was another one, started by chance that immediately launched into a significant conversation, particularly acknowledging that strangers sometimes “plug in” so that they reflect each other’s image for each person to learn and grow.

I left quickly. I needed to retreat to process the experience.

Later that night, I told Brian about my weekend, including the conversation with this artist who turned out to have the same birthday. He said that this was definitely very unusual, that it’s one thing to meet someone with your birthday, but another to have specifically the kind of conversation we sat down and had, then to find this out. I told him about my experience with the snake, and how I had felt this was a test. I asked him if he thought that since I had put aside my fears to do something that was karmically good and unselfish, if this was my reward, that I was given an encounter that gave me knowledge that moved me along. He said, both experiences are pretty unusual. Who knows, you know? But it’s definitely interesting.

I think my senior quote in my high school yearbook was something random like, The road of life has many twists and turns. Whatever you do, don’t forget to signal. I used to wonder what the fuck I meant by that. But now I think I was being defeatist and a little sarcastic, because I think the key is…DON’T SIGNAL.

I think the universe expects your routine. It’s like The Truman Show. Everyone expects you to do certain things, but the day you turn left unexpectedly when everything is expecting you to turn right, something happens. It’s like there’s a sudden small tear in reality because you didn’t go where you were supposed to, and something happens…you see outside of the illusion that is life.

I think that’s why unique things happen during the holidays, during long weekends. The universe expects everyone to be at a certain place, doing a certa
in routine, but all of a sudden, we’re not preparing for the week on Sunday nights…we’re not at work on Monday morning. And then unexpected things happen.

I propose that we all go through the week like it’s normal routine, but at least once a week, do something completely random. Do something that you didn’t even plan that is completely out of the norm. Go someplace you’ve never been. Or show up somewhere you usually go, but on a different night. Trip up the universe that’s expecting to you to go one way, but you suddenly fake and go the other. And suddenly, I think you’ll get this quick glimpse behind the scenes.

One thing that I always ponder is what happens if you try to wish upon a star but tag your hopes and dreams onto a plane instead. This has been something I’ve worried about for years, but then the other night, I had an epiphany…

You can wish upon a star, as the saying goes, and hope that somewhere out there in the universe, a mystical power will grant you your wish.

But if you accidentally wish upon a plane, now there are, say, hundreds of people you have directed your hopes and dreams to. Essentially, you have shared your hopes with them, even though they aren’t consciously aware of this. Those hundred people now go on with their own lives, but what if unconsciously, they carry your wish with them and somehow, with the synchronicity of the universe and the way small changes on the other side of the world can affect your reality, their combined efforts manage to manifest your wish for you.

So you can wish upon a star, one so abstract and far away, or you can share your dreams with a group of strangers headed towards an unknown destination. And perhaps, those strangers might, through the motions of going about their day, help manifest your dream for you.

I’ve decided that every night, I’m going to make a wish upon a plane.

Preferably the largest plane I can find.

new objective

new objective as we head into the fall, a season where i am both at my strongest and most vulnerable:

when in the present, withhold talking and perceive emotionally.

let the emotions experience life without the demands, critiques and dominance of the mind.

let the heart unfold the truth of every moment and interaction.

and if the truth is painful, take that energy back to your cave and turn it into poetry.

and if the truth is beautiful, take that fear back to your cave and turn it into poetry.

and one day when you are loaded to the brim with poetry, tense with trying to hold every drop without spilling over, let yourself topple the cup and empty yourself of everything.

and perhaps, with the mastery of this task, you will set yourself free.

the homeless guy did a double-take as i stepped around him towards the automatic doors. his eyes widened.

“You’re a magnet.”

he squinted, as if trying to remember me from somewhere.

i quickened my stride into the store, relieved to hear the whoosh of the automatic doors closing behind me.