Do It

Do it. Do what's right for you.

Ready, Steady, Stop!

"Ready, Steady, Stop!" To quote Jules Winnfield in Pulp Fiction, " I just thought it was some cold-blooded [stuff] to say".

"Ready, Steady, Stop!" I actually started this blog way back in September of 2009 and didn't touch it until maybe mid-February. So when I came back to it, realizing I had already set myself up with an account, I thought the name was awesome. *Taps self on back* That it was just some cool...stuff to say. It actually reminded me of a John Mayer song; whether that is good or bad leaves me nervous.

This post probably should've been my first post, but I'm going to break down the name of this blog. Sometimes, the explanation comes long after the inspiration. It's going to be a little free and probably won't be very coherent, but let's start! Ready Steady!

READY: To be ready is to be aware. Of what came before you, what lies in front of you, and what is lurking for you in the far-distant future. Then, you move accordingly. You learn through instinct what to say, what to do. It's like you're the ultimate predator. You are capable of the raw, immense power necessary to take down anything in your way. And yet, your paw can still softly pit-pat the ground as you lay in waiting for the unsuspecting prey. To be ready is to be aware.

Ready.    

Steady: Patience. It's all about patience. The patience to learn through your mistakes. The patience to allow others to learn through theirs. It is the unenviable task of waiting until the eleventh hour for an answer and by then, it might not even come. Or it is the patience of understanding that even though the answer didn't align with you today, tomorrow is an opportunity to do it all over again. These are moments of high anxiety where you feel like you have a million things to do but not enough time in the world to do it. The solution lies in patience. There is always a will, there is always a way. Stay steady, stay consistent, and appreciate the gift you've been blessed with - yourself and those around you. People who are monumentally different than you, but still stay and listen when you've lost your "Steady".

 

...Steady...

STOP: We all make blueprints for the future. It becomes our ideal, our ground plan. But the actual process itself is left up to chance and a host of other variables that we cannot or can no longer dictate. This is why we need to stop. Because we get ahead of ourselves. We think we're Ready. We think we're Steady. But we need to Stop. Because things cannot continue on in their present state. We need fluctuation. We need stakes. We need to Stop to realize that yes, we may be moving, but we're not going anywhere. And only when we Stop is when notice everything this still. And everything is decaying. So for the love of God, just Stop for a moment. And notice how beautiful you are. How quiet but melodic the music is. How much you need a shoulder to cry on or someone to hug. How amazing your friends and family are when they may not act like it. Because they forgot how amazing they are. Because other people may say they're not. But they are. Just like you. Just like me. And let that wash over you. Anew. So Stop. And just love. Love what you have. And let that be your blueprint.

...Stop. Just Stop.

The Real You

The real you will be written in a corner of a room, hidden underneath a pile of clothes. It would be an adventure to find this place, to look for something that people don't really tend to think about or considering trying to find. But it's there. In all of us. We tend to confuse it as a movement. But it really doesn't move. We, through our actions (unknowingly or even knowingly), actually move away from it as it stays still. And when we look back, the corner's gone. We wonder where it went and we hope to find it again.

Like that hotel we visited years ago, but has somehow shrouded itself through the mist of time. Gone. Replaced by illusions that are beautiful but ultimately impermanent. Non-sustaining. A costly but ignoble monument, made of fortified brick and mortar - and yet, oddly exhausted of its spirit. It leaves your mind once it's beyond your sight.

A Dream

I had a dream that my father died. On a ship. My mother was with him but she survived. Barely a scratch on her. But he was dead. I remember receiving a photo on my cellphone from my sister of a series of photos - only two that I remember. The first one was of my father. He was in a suit. Well-dressed. But he was dead. It was from what looked like a ventilation system. He was inside, his body crouched. The viewpoint was from inside the vent system with the crown of his head facing the camera. The other picture was of my mother and her friend. The aftermath. She was looking at the camera with her friend. Both of their eyes were red, saying everything they could not. About how much they missed him. Even if he alienated everyone and complained about everything. We missed him. And I woke up, trying to put the puzzle pieces together. It was a dream, but it was everything I could not say.

When I danced in my room, I thought about this. What it felt like. The two photos that I remember. The one of my father. The one of my mother and her friend. And I tell myself that "Everything is Not Lost". I keep dancing, moving ever so slightly. But my moves lack what I want to communicate. Which is something that I cannot explain, cannot formulate. I am limited by the skill of language, by my body, by my movements. "Everything is Not Lost". So the song goes. So I move. So I begin to sing, looking at myself contorting. The next song comes on. "Life is for Living". And it was like a conversation I was having. Was it with my father? Was it with myself? I don't know. Does it matter? I try to leave but the song keeps on playing in its one-minute entirety. "My heart just aches when I think of...the things I shouldn't have said." What about all these things I couldn't say?

Why Do You Dance?

The prompt for my Butoh-based dance class: This is a very simple question. So simple, that it may be difficult to answer. As highly-complex, socially-trained animals, we tend to try and assign or create meaning out of everything. This often results in very overburdened experiences in terms of the way we see and think about them. What happens when you dance? Answer this question as you like. You can give a straightforward, literally descriptive answer. Or you can give a poetic or creative answer that tries to get to the visceral, intuitive core of your experience

My answer: I dance because I don't know how to. I dance because if I don't, something bad will happen. The world will stop turning. The world could end, turn upside down, and disappear. But if I were to keep dancing, I would stay alive. Even if everything around me turned into darkness and disappeared into nothingness, I would still be there. Dancing. Being off rhythm. But the dance continues. Sweat drips, my legs grow weary and tired, ready to give out from under me like bent straws.

But truly, what can stop me if I continue dancing? I remain alive- this breathing vessel of raw flesh, of complex transportation of blood. The blood that keeps my limbs moving in indiscernible directions, stretching to ephemeral heavens or writhing on the concrete ground beneath it.

I dance because I can. Because each movement is unique in its exact moment. Never will I make the same movement in the same moment. Even if I tried to emulate it, it'd never be the same. That movement and that moment has passed on, dissipated by the oncoming movement and moment.

I am not a dancer. Nor will I ever be. That is not my purpose. When I dance, I do not think of what it means to be a dancer. My mind, my body, my talent does not operate in that fashion. I only dance because I can. Dance, dance, dance.

Rant: Do I Impress You?

I was reading a friend's Facebook today in which he mentioned -under the "info" section" - that he is actually impressed by very few people. He also conditioned that statement by the preceding, "As harsh as it may sound...", showing his understanding of yes, it is a very harsh statement.

This is someone who I have the utmost respect for - someone who, on multiple occasions, I ( as well as many others) have stated as being one of the most sincere and nicest guys you could ever know. In other words, this is someone who impresses me immensely. I hope he takes my interpretation of his statement in the same manner I do. If he does, he truly "impresses" me.

Yes, I do think there are a lot...for lack of a better term, unimpressive people out there. There are a lot of rude, inconsiderate, and even selfish people. But really? Have you been so jaded to define the population by an arbitrary rubric of "impressive"?

I get it. The talented ones, right? The ones that hold an aura of mystique, of sheer brilliance. The ones who could hold the world in their hands, blow it away, and have it float back to them when beckoned. These are the Impressives. The Elites. The ones who are accountable for holding a standard by which everyone else is judged. And the cherry on top: they know it too.

I'm not impressed by those people. Their brilliance feigns ignorance. It breeds prejudice and releases the toxicity of rash judgment. A type of judgment that we all fall into on occasion, but no, this is different. This is a constant and consistent judgment of the character and actions of others without understanding circumstance.

You know who I'm impressed by? The ones who can smile after a really shitty day. The ones who ask "How was your day?" and genuinely, genuinely mean it. Cause dammit, those people are hard to find. The ones who will apologize for what they did wrong because they accept it. Because hell, they might not even be wrong. But they'll apologize for hurting someone's feelings. It's this lack of sensitivity that kills me, this lack of care and consideration for others.

What I mean to say is that "No, there is no one perfect". Truly no one. Just as there is no perfect movie, no perfect piece of art, no perfect novel. We all have our faults and perhaps, some more than others. But there are so many people out there who I appreciate and am impressed by.