purging my baser instincts on 11/7, dammit!

Salutations, my hygienically enlightened blogophiles! ;)

Oooh, it's a very temperate (60 degrees), steely gray, rainy day here! Magnifico! I feel very cozy here at work, if it's possible to feel cozy in black, nearly knee-high boots with four inch platform heels. (I swear, I must be like, six feet tall today--from this perspective, I've become totally fascinated with the parts in people's hair.)

By the way, this entry was actually composed TODAY (November 7th), but because I saved the links in a draft on Saturday, the date reflects 11/5.

For everybody who hasn't had the pleasure, allow me to introduce you to my illustrious forum friend, the Turquoise Troubadour. One of his latest contributions really struck a chord with me and touched on the deeper realizations that are dominating my awareness at this time (ie, that I can trust the integrity of my immediate experience), and I wanted to share his offering in the hopes it might speak to you as well:

How to move from controlling and being impulsive, to being spontaneous? ...It's about trusting. But I believe that you can’t really trust others FULLY unless you can trust yourself first. I’ve got to accept myself, every one of my many faults, not trying to change them, not indulging them, just accepting them, and trusting that I’m on a journey and its OK to be however I am right now. That’s what it is to love myself unconditionally. Unless I can do that, how can I love YOU unconditionally? And if I DO forgive myself – which is what it really amounts to – I find that I’ve spontaneously transformed into someone who can live for others, open to whoever and however they are, welcoming their quirks and overlooking anything they do to hurt me, because they’re on the journey too, they’re learning to dance too, and we’re both going to tread on each others toes now and then… Isn't that being integral? Understanding and seeking to compassionately embrace others, not naively blind to who and how they are but able to spontaneously trust in the divinity which can shine through them?

I'd like to follow that up with a gem from one of the most Open, equitable, and unfailingly friendly people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. His words ran deep with me.

To know how to hold on is easy. If you want to you will. When your grip is slipping, and [others] are stomping on your fingers, do you feel the pain? Good. Does it matter? No. If you are being what you want to be, without holding anything back then BE. You will hold on if you want to or if you must let go you will. Release the mind and follow what your heart tells you. It will show you what you need to be shown. Trust that what happens is not just you but [for others] too.

Heartfelt thanks, David and Shawn. (For anybody interested in seeing these crazy diamonds shine their subtle stuff full force--if you'd like to read their words as originally contextualized--click here.)

Hey, big thanks to everybody who responded favorably to my last entry. Having been relentlessly raised (razed?) to be a "lady" and to repress and deny all the courser elements of existence, I yet harbor fears that manifesting the more raw dimensions of myself will find my blog boycotted and myself branded as inveterately vulgar and somehow less than lovable.

That said, I may not relish raunch, but come on, the gross realm (and it can be gross) is fucking funny, is it not? I mean, the stuff the Witness watches, the descending current, the manifest nature of this moment, the earthiness of the Absolute, (how's that for a paradox?) is just too damn comical not to capitalize on, too amazingly mirthful not to mock!

As my friend Tim says, "Everybody has an asshole." In other words--and here I am compelled to quote The Great and Mighty Bald One:

You are not objects out there, you are not feelings, you are not thoughts-you are effortlessly aware of all those, so you are not those. Who or what are you?

One thing's for damn sure, for those of us aware of our assholes, it is clear that we are not these assholes, which leaves us free to witness them (figuratively, of course--contortionist's excepted) rather than be them, and this is good, because frankly, what remotely sane person wants to be an asshole?

Now, moving explicitly into the upper right quadrant (perty, eh?) and keeping with the spirit of my previous post, I give you The Five Stages of Bush:

The fro
The fade
The cactus
The crew
The snatch(ed) bald (viva la GentleLASE)

Hair is EVIL. That's right, evil--like right up there with depleted uranium, Monsanto's terminator seeds, the militarization of space, and mullets. As far as I'm concerned, it has no business being anywhere on my body except here, here, and here (pointing to head, eyebrows, and eyelashes.)

Ken hasn't covered this as yet (it belongs rightfully to his Post-Metaphysical/Wilber Phase 5 corpus), but female body hair is a product of the Fall, of evolution run amuck, of a kink in the kosmic order. The biblical passage that talks about "wrestling against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places"? HAIR, people! (And you mythic-membership literalists thought it was referring to Republicans.)

Fortunately, having come to the light, I have conquered the evils of hair--those little bitches are history! My illicit relationship with the razor ended a year ago, and let this be a lesson to all you unbelievers: with God (and a nuclear-strength laser), nothing is impossible.

(Having now purged the baser instincts from my system, I promise a return to the tame and tasteful blog that is in keeping with my higher AQALuscious nature.)