The Labyrinth

Ye 'Ol Fence Sitter In Need Of Tix...

Cristie — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 16:42:49 GMT

Hey! And so.. I have been sittin' on the fence about going to Burning Man this year with moving and saving some dough and what have yous and what nots. And, so what I thought is, it's time I jump to the other side of that fence and committ dammit. Yes, commit to going and finding a cheap ass ticket. Do you have one? As you can see by this new photo of me (on the fence just outside my fraternity... Gotta Getta Offa Epsalon Beta Gamma) I have been working on my 24 pack abs this winter (Its true Suzanne Sommers! The Ab Roller totally works!) just in time for the Playa. This year, my abs will rawk in my fresh new TTB gear (uh, like Totally Try- Bul) and I will completely score to be sure. So, yeah - me and my abs will see you out there....as soon as I get off this fence. xxooooooooohhh Cristie

How can one person be more real than any others?

Cristie — Wed, 06 Feb 2008 03:20:15 GMT

Well, some people DO hide and others SEEK. Maybe those who are in hiding - escaping encounters, avoiding surprises, protecting their property, ignoring their fantasies, restricting their feelings, sitting out the Pan pipe hootchy-kootch of experience - maybe those people, people who wont talk to rednecks, or if theyr're rednecks wont talk to intellectuals, people who're afraid to get their shoes muddy or their noses wet, afraid to eat what they crave, afraid to drink Mexican water, afraid to bet a long shot to win, afraid to hitchhike, jaywalk, honky-tonk, cogitate, osculate, levitate, rock it, bop it, sock it, or bark at the moon, maybe such people are simply inauthentic, and maybe the jack leg humanist who says differently is due to have his tongue fried on the hot slabs of Liar's Hell. Some folks hide. And some folks seek. And seeking, when it's mindless, neurotic, desperate, or pusillanimous can be a form of hiding. But there are folks who want to know and aren't afraid to look and wont turn tail should they find it - and if they never do, they'll have a good time anyway because nothing, neither the terrible truth nor the absence of it, is going to cheat them out of one honest breath of earth's sweet gas. - Tom Robbins - "Still Life with Woodpecker" WERD.... Heres to the wanting of knowing And the courage in looking.. and the power of not running.. And the dancing in loving and the loving in dancing and the utter peace one can get from simply dropping into the divinity that is your own. And to swallowing.. no, not just swallowing.. but DINING ON the whole delicious buffet of the beauty of what IS in this great big, swirly burly bus trip of z life. rawr....

Thought I'd start a new organization....

Cristie — Thu, 24 Jan 2008 14:29:36 GMT

www.Snorts-for-peace.calm Now, I dont mean, by snorts, that Im going to hire some ex-coke heads or junkies, or even current coke heads or junkies... although that would be something, wouldnt it? .. but I was thinking.. what if ... We could: "Change the world, one laugh at a time?" I dunno, what do you think? Lighthouse Orphanage - Phom Phen, Cambodia - Circa 2008 TAKE ONE http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZVo-wIeHvv8 In love, C

The neverending

Cristie — Sat, 02 Jun 2007 19:10:44 GMT

Today I danced a dance with Gaia Skin upon dusty earth On the edge of the field of my own belonging. Knowing that without the shadow of a shadow Of a doubt There’s always ground to hold me. Feeling the expanse of this state of grace I seem to find myself in. – Contacting self with each step, into Beauty and patience unfolding before me in a spiral dance of allowing - while fear and excitement play the same moves like backstreet bookees in a dark alley, dissolving murky doubts and infusing my open heart with bravery. Clear eyed and free I laughed a saucy little laugh - Joy dripping from soul like honey Wild fire igniting all that no longer serves, creating fertile soil for these seeds to take root. Slow burn deep into the center of her earth. Sustaining. Smoldering Growing Standing tall on this rock I call my own Lifetime Of feeling and falling and feeling and falling and tired of falling so I Choose a new route This time. Yes, so today I danced a dance with Gaia. We invited Reason. Then politely asked her to leave The door open For Wonder and Curiosity who showed up in the most fantastic of costumes Of many colors and shapes and textures and “how’d she do that’s?” and “I wonder whats?’ Later, Destiny and I took a walk. I, the whole time trying to get her to spill the beans. She wasn’t having it – all the while repeating her singular mantra like a lyrical metronome: “You know” “You know” Misery showed up just for a moment, only to remind us about our meeting with Ecstacy and Joy at high noon. And at the end of the day, when the last dance was danced and all the guests made their way to their rightful places… I got to sleep with Gratitude. We: Wide eyed and whispering our appreciation, like prayer beads lighting the shadows.

This is not a test of the Emergency Broadcast System

Cristie — Fri, 23 Jun 2006 22:43:32 GMT

Soul-stice This one profound. I was asked to take part in a ritual on the land where I am staying in Ojai, CA Some of you may know this spot. Rumored to have many powerful lay lines. Krishnamurti came here back in the 20's believing it to be a most sacred "power place", thus setting up the Ojai foundation, various schools, and gathering quite a following. He spoke out against having such a following- in his old gentle way, referring to himself as the "speaker". He denied that he was the Messiah. or guru. or philosopher. or sage - as so many effort to title him. He spoke of truth being found in oneself, that awareness is the only armament. But that's another story. This "power place" is the Valley where I live. And its been a bit challenging for me to be here the past few weeks. Many things have surfaced. An alchemy of the spirit and a distillation of the soul. A not so systematic burning away of attachments. Of old patterns and beliefs of self. But as in Alchemy where the elements are taken apart, purified and then recombined - all of this is good. Although not always pleasant. But I am full. And grateful. Another side note. Ah yes, Soul-stice. So I was asked to be part of a ritual under the teaching of a Peruvian and Native American Shaman named Hernan. Accupuncture for the earth he calls it. A rite to heal Gaia. These sacred fires are being stewarded now in about 12 places around the globe. They occur all at the same time, no matter the time zone. From Israel, to Peru, to Colorado. Sacred geometry is called into play in the assemblage of the tiny and few logs. Four directions. The elements. Prayers. Offerings. The power of the mountains is called in and sent, like and arrow, through the nexus of the fire into the earth. Healing. And so, we did this ritual for the earth. and we did this ritual for my friend, who's house I am at, who was in his last day of Vision Quest in New Mexico (where Hernan lives). And we did this ritual for ourselves. When we are whole we can help others and our planet. When we began the ceremony (before the fire was lit) and as we were blessing the elements of water, corn, meat, and fruit -four Vultures appeared in the West (the direction of the nexus of the fire and also the "power direction") and began to circle. I looked down as the twigs were lit. I looked up. They were gone. And as suddenly as the vultures were gone, two hawks began circling directly overhead as the fire began to take. They circled for some time. Then flew South as the fire was in swing, the ritual begun. South - the direction of the ancestors. A white butterfuly kept us company for the three hours we tended the fire in prayer, at times laughter, quiet meditation and sweet conversation. An odd looking bird showed up. Turns out it was a Grouse. I looked up its significance. A "bird of the sacred spiral - Grouse appears during vision quests and other initiations". For real. The end of my day was spent walking on a magical journey through the woods on top of a mountain. Ritual long over from the morning. A friend, Zubin, has created a wonderland in the Chapparal forest behind his house. A interactive dream walk - weaving spirit and nature. I sat on a rock in a shaded grove and listened to this poem by David Whyte. A large rock split in two was in front of me. And I thought of my garden - deep earth, unspoken and private. Alone in a shaded forest knoll. Sacred we are. Easter Morning in Wales - David Whyte: A garden inside me, unknown, secret, neglected for years, The layers of its soil deep and thick. Trees in the corners with branching arms And the tangled briars like broken nets. Sunrise through the misted orchard, Morning sun turns silver on the pointed twigs. I have woken from the sleep of ages and I am not sure if I'm really seeing, or dreaming, or simply astonished walking towards sunrise to have stumbled into the garden where the stone was rolled from the tomb of longing.

Jus' a little ditty...

Cristie — Fri, 16 Jun 2006 16:01:58 GMT

Find the girl that smells like rain. Her eyes will sing you songs of saffron of curry and musky hookah bars and desert caravans - of far off places not so far of mystics and the mythic. These are within you. Unhook your heart from the cupboard you have been keeping it safe and sound the alarms of your impending freedom. Tune into the knowing that you have always held in the shadowed recesses and folds of your remembering. Ask God to illuminate the breadth of the love contained in the small dark body you call your own. Find that girl who flirts with the moon and makes love to stars - with galaxies as sacred council and super novas bearing witness. Ask her for the secret of saying yes to possibility on such grand scales. She's been waiting. She will tell you that the secret is that the secret is not a secret. Jokes on us, really. She will laugh - a full toothed grin as she surrenders the palms of her empty hands, arms held wide and sheds a skin, much like a serpent, with the wink of an eye. Realize it is finally time to surrender your compass. You will not know You can not know You should not know - the fates of this would keep you bound to a past with no future. Loosen the chains. Ask judgement to release its stranglehold and throw reason out the window. Just this once. Try these wings on my friend.

The fool of cool

Cristie — Tue, 14 Mar 2006 04:25:31 GMT

Been thinking about Todd Geroux. Todd Geroux was an intensely blue-eyed boy I vaguely knew from Mrs. Murray’s 3rd grade class at Kendall Dean School in Slatersville, RI. His hands were perpetually scaly, red and raw. Eczema. Bad. A trait that certainly did not help his plight. Even in the heat of summer, besides his hands, the only body part not covered by clothing was his head. And I am sure, looking back, that if he could have hidden both his hands AND his head, he would have. Todd was a boy that didn’t have many friends. I am not sure he even had one. And I can’t really recall a reason why. For the girls in 3rd grade, there just wasn’t enough cootie spray for Todd. And for the boys, well, I am not really sure what they thought. We didn’t discuss those things then. The social order of who’s who and who’s “in” or “out” became accepted non-verbally, and universally. I was just happy not to be “out”. At least on the level of out that Todd Geroux was. I think I was always somewhere in-between in and out, depending on the season or the month, or the mood of my friends. So, I didn’t question or rock the boat. Enter the continuance of oppression, carried on by yours truly in my benign little way. So, why have I been thinking about Todd Geroux? I have been thinking about the foolishness of “cool”, this idea that separates us from each other. I’ve been thinking about the danger of getting caught in our self-expression where it becomes a wall that separates me from you. I have been thinking of the sadness and danger that comes with thinking we know who or what someone is about without really knowing. I am all for self-expression, for living out loud. Believe me. I think we dim our light way too much. I think half our life (hopefully less) we spend hiding our fullness in shadow and then half of our life trying to bring it out into the light. But when does our self-expression give way to ego and ego get in our way of truly connecting, of opening our heart? Can we still be free and open hearted? I Believe that our unique self-expression, creativity and beauty is our avenue, our invitation to others to play with us. This is our sandbox. This is the way to inspire others, to INCLUDE, not shut others out because we think they don’t fit the mold to get on the “cool” bus…. Who designed that mold anyway? Its time to check ourselves at the door when we begin to blur the lines of our own insecurities and pass judgment onto others. Or when we judge others on what they do rather than how they are. There is not one of us who doesn’t know the pain of being dismissed, left out, or alone. We need to own our shit. Me included. How dare I put you in a box of what or who I think you are.. or conversely, how dare you brush me off without knowing the same? How quickly do we judge and then deem it “fact”? Who are we to discount each other, especially based upon superficiality and considerations? How dare we not look each other deeply in the eyes and tell the truth? How can we speak of love, family and tribe and not be willing to deconstruct our own walls as an example to others, as an act of love and a vehicle of change – especially within that family we talk of? Can we dare to love each other more? How would / or could that look? What level of courageous honesty would that take? Thank you Todd Geroux, wherever you are.

join me?

Cristie — Mon, 09 Jan 2006 02:15:07 GMT

The new year. Resolutions already lie on the floor, discarded like last night's clothing. Enough of that shit. I invite you to come with me on a journey. I cant make any promises. But, rest assured this journey will have its ups and downs. In fact, I guarantee there will be both. You will be stepping into the unknown. That may be scary, or exciting, depending on how you interpret those things. In fact, you may experience moments of unbelievable joy and connection beyond your wildest dreams of possibility. And you may touch upon a seemingly unceasing river of lonliness, even despair. But those things move and change, like a river. Perhaps there will be moments of meeting Jesus at the crossroads and playing blackjack with the devil. Maybe days of grace, solitude, of gathering. You will be in the light, and the dark. You will be. Yes. So, my friends, I invite you to come with me on a New Year's Revolution.... The evolution of the revolution starts with a yes. Let's create an army of love, fighting with weapons of truth. Let us unearth our weapons of mass appreciation - driving tanks of creativity into the fray. It is not us against them.. but how can we love each other and ourselves even more? Do we dare ask, "how can I love you more right now"? How daring can we be with our presence as our present? I invite you to show up in ways you never have. Let's get inebriated with the Divine. Lets get high on the liquor of saints... you. What are you fighting for? Lets take a stand together, for each other. Break down the walls that separate us, my brother, my sister. Dance with me. These are the whispers of a new millenium in this multiverse of potentiality. These are are the songs, we are the dance. Take note. Viva la revolution..

Like this

Cristie — Tue, 13 Dec 2005 06:39:01 GMT

If anyone asks you how the perfect satisfaction of all our sexual wanting will look, lift your face and say, Like this. When someone mentions the gracefulness of the night sky, climb up on the roof and dance and say, Like this? If anyone wants to know what "spirit" is, or what "God's fragrance" means, lean your head toward him or her. Keep your face there close. Like this. When someone quotes the old poetic image about clouds gradually uncovering the moon, slowly loosen knot by knot the strings of your robe. Like this? If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead, dont try to explain the miracle. Kiss me on the lips. Like this. Like this. When someone asks what it means to "die for love", point here. If someone asks how tall I am, frown and measure with your fingers the space between the creases on your forehead. This tall. The soul sometimes leave the body, then returns. When someone doesnt believe that, walk back into my house. Like this. When lovers moan, theyre telling our story. Like this. I am a sky where spirits live. Stare into this deepening blue, while the breeze says a secret. Like this. When someone asks what there is to do, light the candle in his hand. Like this. A little wind cleans the eyes. Like this. Rumi -

Sovereign Soul-stice Baby

Cristie — Thu, 08 Dec 2005 07:44:27 GMT

'Tis the season. Its cold out. Daylight is getting shorter. And time, well, that seems to be getting shorter too. Days seem to tick off one after the other with regularity and speed. Unconscious? Sometimes. And sometimes often. Enter the Hero's Journey: And that's with a Capital "H" and a Capital "J", thank you very much. Every hero has a nemesis. A vulnerable place. Yeah, you know the one - that one you try hard to hide, or to protect. Maybe its your longing, your love, or maybe its your brilliance. So what of it, Hero? What are you going to do with it? Are you going to continue to hide it, to run from it? Cuz you know if you let it out it may swallow you up - even if you let it out just a crack. Ha! Let's talk about Sovereignty. Sovereignty: n. The supreme rank, power or authority over our own choices in life. Sovereignty is the freekin 'right to do so'. And who gives us this authority? Grants us this permission? We do. We get to choose how to be with what life presents to us. I can walk through the darkness, touch the edge of insanity, laugh till I cry, speak my truth, be brushed off, raging and raw and I am STILL INTACT. I will not and can not be owned, possessed, or "gotten". Back to the Hero's Journey. Fact: Every hero will face their nemesis, eventually. = freedom Scary shit this nemesis. It can feel lonely and dark, cold and confusing, or maybe even shy and soft. It can feel like walking through woods steeped in fog and cut with vines. Enter owl; who sees through the shadow with laser like clarity to what is real. We find our way to the edge, tripping and falling and getting up, again and again. And we see that which we most fear, and we be with it - without apology, in love. Grace. We are whole; possibly more than we ever have been our whole lives. This is our Nekyia; our underworld journey, or "dark night of the soul". This is where the true hero is birthed. We emerge tear stained and laughing in joy like a madman. So, on this soul-stice - these darkening of days, the Nekyia is upon us, Hero. How are you going to walk it? What landscapes are you cruising? Will you call on owl? How much of your vulnerability, your realness can you allow to show? What can you hold of others? Now I am not talking about being spineless here. That's not Hero. Can you be whole hearted, can you be soft hearted, and can you be brave hearted? Can you be a warrior and a lover? Show me yours and I will show you mine. Bring it.

wabi sabi

Cristie — Tue, 15 Nov 2005 05:01:09 GMT

I just finished working on publicity and public relations for an amazing musical called wabi sabi...'twas performed by an incredible group of people with all sorts of "different abilities". My employers were a non-profit called Alchemia, whose mission it is to serve individuals with developmental and physical "dis-abilities" in an effort to redefine the term "disabled", hence the term: "differently abled". And all of this is done through expressive arts in the community. So, Wabi Sabi... what the hell is it you may ask? Ah, something we should all incorporate a little more of in our lives... Wabi Sabi is unbleached cotton. Spring's first shoot of young green grass. Rusty brick. Damp moss speckled on granite. Your grandmother's rocking chair. Your first kiss. In Japanese, Wabi Sabi, loosely translated - means perfectly imperfect. Wabi Sabi is alchemy: a turning of lead into gold, a changing of that which is seemingly worthless into something valuable. Wabi Sabi, like alchemy, burns away what is no longer necessary. We arrive at what is true, what is pure. Essence. Wabi Sabi gently calls us to hold a mirror to our own definitions of "beautiful", of what it means to be different. We are called to reinvent the language of beauty. Wabi Sabi asks us to behold the extraordinary in the ordinary, the profound in the simple, the magic in the mundane. Wabi Sabi unites us. When we fully recognize and honor our differences, our irregularities, our quirks, our boldness, our sameness and our brilliance, we break down the walls of separation. It is in these moments of grace and wonder, of embracing perfection in the imperfection, that beauty occurs. And that is Wabi Sabi. The elements of this ancient philosophy and aesthetic are the cornerstones of self acceptance and self expression. So, how's about a little wabi sabi today? word.