Dabbling in the Deep End

If you had to have one word tattooed on your body, what would it be, and where would you tattoo it?  I am looking at a woman with the word “steel” tattooed on the back of her neck.  At first I thought it said “feel”, and I got excited because I took it as a divine message to drop into feeling.  Then I started contemplating the cornucopia of evocative, opulent words I could adorn myself with… And then I thought what a great way to get to know someone… like at a party or other social extravaganza.  (If you already have a word, or more than one word (Dan), you can still play the game… Wipe the slate clean and feel into ONE single word that would be most apropos to express you in this very moment)

Today I have my permission to be a total spazzy, off the wall nut.  I have to.  Can you dig it?  I HAVE TO.  Life can be way too serious.  Last night I was just going about my modest business and the simplest thing suddenly tripped a landmine in my heart.  Suddenly I was projectile sobbing.  But not for too long.  Soon I was faced with the inward invitation to forgive this whole sloppy dream and get on with things.  I think that’s the key for me.  I can express whatever wants to move through, but then let it go.  No need to wallow or hold on.  So I feel pain… fear… and then what?  Then I do a little dance.  Bake a loaf of braided challah.

Then I snuggle up with my sick boyfriend and watch some bitchin comedy.  Have you heard of Zach Galifianakis: Live?  See it. (We watched it on Netflix watch instantly)  He is a brutally honest, perfectly screwed up, entirely lovable comedian.  I discovered him on the Tim and Eric Awesome Show Great Job.  (I put the link to their website on my blogroll.  Check them out if you need some seriously irreverent medicine. (that would be most of us…)  As I see it, Tim and Eric are two liberated Buddhas, who say a boisterous and irreverent YES to life, to their messy, wretched, tangled, human state of bliss, and in doing so, invite us all to exercise the same playful freedom of self.  They exhibit my favorite kind of intelligence.  The kind that is off the charts, yet sneaks in through the back door, so that you might miss it if you are attached to a more classical, erudite, academic template of intelligence manifest.  In which case, I say, you need to loosen your necktie, let your hair down and play the fool way more often.  And now, please take a moment of silence in honor of these two exceptional men.                            Thank you.)

Zach Galifiankis.  He’s just as funny as Tim and Eric.  Watching his (Whoa, I just got distracted, because this woman just came through the door (Pizzaiolo’s door, that is) wearing DEEP, red lipstick.  Her hair natural, mousy auburn, cropped in a modest though sassy bob.  Her lips are sheer seduction!  Otherwise, she looks pretty plain. But her lips scream whisperish songs of lust.  Yum.)  Watching Zach’s comedy validated my intention for this blog.  He was unabashedly transparent in his expression of his particular, insane strain of humanity.  But through his brutal honesty, light was made out of what would certainly otherwise drive him entirely nuts and honestly, I imagine he would have killed himself a long time ago… he has that much inside him.  Since we are all more or less the same, with varying degrees of ability to contain ourselves and lead “normal” lives, it is healing to witness others giving voice to the facets of ourselves that we have become habituated to manraging and hiding out of homage to our heroic slave drivers named Shame and Appropriteness.

I often doubt myself… I can’t stop blogging.  But I wonder if it is it a sheerly masterbatory, frivolous waste of my time.  It can’t be, because it makes me feel more joy and fulfillment than anything (except good sex and church… and good coffee and satisfying, deep connections with friends, swimming, rock climbing, hip hop dancing, listening to the birds, sipping red wine while I cook nourishing meals alone in my kitchen… Athena, slow down, you’re knocking the wind out of the point you were just driving at.  Honestly, this blog is one of the MOST important facets of my existence right now.)  But is it in vain, I sometimes wonder?… And when I witness other humans, like Zach G. bearing the unsightly [metaphorical] lumps and rolls and pussy infections of their humanity, I remember the value of courageously sharing the less flattering angles of my cumbersome human existence.  Zach is so easy to LOVE in all his mess.  Which of course makes me that much easier for me to love AS I AM.  And you too are as lovable as all of your wacky, flawed and deliciously alive reflections in this mystic hall of fun house mirrors otherwise known as Life.

Tim, Eric and Zach would all fall on the below average end of the studly spectrum.  They are all overweight… Not obese or anything… they just look like bachelors who eat at In and Out Burgers too often, drink too much beer and haven’t exercised a day in their lives.  I bet they even get winded boning their bitches after like two minutes… but you know what?  I am so attracted to Eric and Zach, because they are so FUNNY, SMART, COURAGEOUS and ALIVE.  (Tim is all that too, but I find him less hot for some reason)  My point?  Don’t discount the potency of SOUL.

But then there’s my barista.  He is hot AND soulful.  He told me his name today, Damon.  He said it’s Greek, too.  I said maybe we’re related.  He said HE’S not Greek.  I smiled and said neither am I.  Meow!!!  I just felt my face as I was writing this paragraph.  I can only imagine what it must look like… I have this strange, soft smile, distant, dreamish eyes probing the billowing fabrics of far off, sensual universes, cocked head…  I love having crushes.

Oh, BTW, I coined a new term for my relationship status!  “Monogamous Polyamorist”.  What in Jehovah’s name does this mean?  Duh, it means that Mykael and I are in agreement that we both want our relationship to be a source and expression of our freedom, truth and wholeness as people, and if that means that we want to share intimacy with another, that is perfectly acceptable… at least in theory… (When Mykael found a dame he wanted to play with (he’s so finicky), I freaked out… but that’s another story) Ahem… theory… I find it very relaxing that I am not bound by Mykael’s fears and insecurities, nor is he bound by mine.  Honestly, I’m not interested in having sex with anyone else right now (Mykael is MORE than enough man for me)… but there is something deeply relaxing about knowing that that door is not bolted and nailed shut forever.   Monogamous Polyamory… It’s the way of the rock star future!

The last thing I’ll say, is a public service announcement:  Body language!  Have fun with it.  More movement, less needless blabbering.  I just switched seats because two chatterboxy women parked next to me and I couldn’t think straight over their birdish banter.  So I wandered over to this massive table and asked the white haired hipster with thick, black nerd glasses if I could park across from him.  Except he has his headphones on, so I simply did a modest little interpretive dance indicating, “may I sit here”… He danced back an unabashed, inviting “YES!”  FUN.

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