The past few weeks have been a bit gut wrenching, therefore it’s been somewhat of a challenge to get thoughts onto paper, in word form. I have what you might call a constant curious when it comes to this particular outlet–writing and posting and sharing via the internet. I cannot capture the importance; what I post here is barely a keyhole, I know. Life is too complex to assume that a website is any kind of representation. I’ve been writing and posting and then marking the post “private” immediately. Sometimes putting things on here transform the incident, the moment, the thought, into this two dimensional object..I’m not sure that I can explain it. The nice thing is knowing I don’t have to. Please bear with me as I figure out what I want to use this space for.

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about purpose, and compassion. Compassion has taken over my life these days, and I welcome it. I pride myself on being a compassionate person, and the past two weeks have put heart to the test. I come out on the other side with shaking hands, empty and filled, with more questions. I guess the idea of “purpose” comes into play when deciding how to approach these questions, what to do with them. It isn’t about answering them, I know that much.

There is purpose in expression. In turn, I feel now more than ever there is an obligation to express compassion–what it means to be compassionate, what it means to extend everything we have to others(when they need it, when they don’t, when we ourselves are in need). I’m giving a lot of thought to my art–the present sense of it and the future sense–what can I do to be more compassionate with my method of expression? Whether through writing, art, music, dance, observation, routine…all of these things. I’m giving a lot of thought to what makes me feel most alive, not just what makes me feel “happy” or content. What makes the day to day meaningful?

It is simple, and it is complex. It means being present, no question. It means listening, and speaking. It means challenges, and facing them. It is not knowing, and being okay with that. It means holding someone and holding them tight, with all of my questions and all of my heart, all of our experiences combined. Lately I’ve been telling loved ones to “tell me a story,” and I am always inspired by what they have to say about their own lives. Where they’ve been, how they ended up here. I do not say it to tell my own. I say it to learn, to listen, to provide a safe place for that. We all need to speak, to be heard. I guess I feel most meaningful when I am taking it in. I think being there for someone is a form of expression. The past few weeks stand testament to that.

Now is the time to aim for that purpose–now is the time to create and to fill the heart with what makes me feel most alive. At first it feels like a step back–this sudden need to be quiet and listen, witness, take in…but the more I do it the more I see that the steps are in a forward motion. 

Perhaps this is scattered, but honesty isn’t always streamlined.

ways to clear the brain bramble:
walking.
buying much needed groceries and walking the heavy bags the long way home.
clean a room. any room, but preferably whichever one you spend the most time in.
clean self aka shower and mumble broken swagger lines and poems into the raindown force of water.
get the fuck over it.

ways to find serenity in the not so serene
when irritated by a crowded bus, having to stand in a wedged out spot of tiptoe and balance and someone’s heavy purse keeps taking out the back of the knees, remember: you are loved. there is family. every person on the bus as a history. you are surrounded by it and in the thick of it. enjoy.
treat having to act extra-professional in your not-so-favorite environment as a game. a test of willpower, a challenge. something to meet and exceed. something you can brush off at the end of the day.
just let it go. whatever the “it” may be. get it off your shoulders(including the world & axis, for it is not yours)
find new books in the mailbox
be your own motivation on the road to staying a little bit more calm, a little bit more centered.
stop talking and listen. and when you are finished with the listen part then keep listening.
oh. and music at loud decibels. wild flailed-out dancing that only your kitty will see.

just like she did.

NYC Woman Arrested on Topless Stroll Accepts $29,000 From City to Settle Civil Rights Lawsuit

A woman arrested for exposing her breasts has accepted a $29,000 settlement from the city, her lawyer said.

Jill Coccaro, 27, was arrested on a topless stroll two years ago, despite a 1992 state appeals court ruling that concluded women should have the same right as men to take off their shirts.

Coccaro, who now goes by the name Phoenix Feeley, remained in custody for 12 hours before she was told prosecutors were not going to pursue charges.

Her attorney, Jeffrey Rothman, told the Daily News that his client won the civil rights settlement from the city, which did not admit or deny wrongdoing.

“We hope the police learn a lesson and respect the rights of women to go topless,” Rothman said.

Feeley told the New York Post that she was not treated well after her Aug. 4, 2005, arrest in Manhattan’s Lower East Side section. She claimed in an October lawsuit that a police officer yanked her out of a patrol car by her hair and police took her to a hospital for a psychiatric evaluation.

She told the newspaper she had gone bare-breasted after running the 2004 city marathon without police bothering her.

“I’ve always just felt that was something natural,” Feeley said of going topless. “I’ve kind of always done it out of practicality.”