beyond march: springtime dreaming & scheming

anyone that really knows me knows that spring is my favorite season. spring is when i thrive, it's when i begin to scheme and dream, thawing out out after winter stasis. spring is when i begin to feel alive again. in march we occasionally get to experience glimmers of hope--a fleeting taste of springtime possibilities. march is a month of seasonal puberty, a month of transition. four years ago, i moved from west philly to south philly. it was march 17th that i finally moved all my belongings out of the apartment i shared with my ex who broke up with me at the very start of that year. the day before, i began working at a coffeeshop after a period of unemployment. the middle of march last year was also an intense time of change for me. as i struggled to finish my masters thesis, i was confronted with the reality of an emotionally dysfunctional relationship that came to a screeching halt. at the end of that week i was robbed at gunpoint. spring could not have arrived fast enough. and it did arrive. i met with my advisor in new york and made a plan to finish my program by the end of the semester. i triumphantly celebrated my birthday and made it all happen.

this march, i'm at a crossroads. my life feels pretty similar to four years ago. in fact, i'm still working at that same coffeeshop. what happens next? where will this spring lead me? i'm dreaming and scheming. i'm ready to truly follow my wildest dreams. what do i have to lose?    

further consideration

apparently every time i apply for a job 170 other people will also apply. this time, i was informed about the quantity of my competitors but also that my application "was not selected for further consideration." honestly, this was sort of a relief to learn. i felt free again, unshackled from the expectations of this one specific opportunity. now, i can do whatever the fuck i want. the problem is that i'm still searching for what that looks like. yesterday i returned to reading descriptions of phd programs in ethnomusicology. but then i remembered that conversation we had that night at the lost bar and how it makes more sense to just write a zine instead. writing-residency-fantasies persist. give me the whole summer in a conscious space of creation, surrounded by driven like-minds feeding off each other's energy. mmm...sounds kinda hot too. i need a shower now. maybe that will help me figure out what i'm doing with my life.

living against the blur

i don't want to be jobhunting with you. i don't want to discard our creative impulses in exchange for the empty promises of security and routine, material comfort and health insurance. our eyes are burning from reading about job descriptions, qualifications, and salary ranges commensurate with experience. let's turn off our screens. from now on, we'll refuse to be precarious. let's think bigger and never, ever sarcastically scoff about "just livin' the dream." because we truly will be. let's live our lives in a way that doesn't make it seem like the years are passing us by in a blur. let's start today.

on (not) keeping it cool

at the end of this past month, i went "home" for the holidays. waking up early on christmas eve, i drove my sister's car to a small deli in the town where we grew up to get a few items for breakfast.

hey punk!

at first, i couldn't tell if this voice was directed at me as i walked to the end of the narrow grocery aisle. 

yeah, i'm talking to you, it continued.

i looked up to see a friendly, familiar face--the guitarist/vocalist of my favorite local band when i was 14 years old. there we stood, almost two decades later catching up. he self-deprecatingly announced that he has stuck around all these years, "living the dream." i told him how i've been in philly for a while now and he asked if i was still playing music. to which i responded that every new year i hope to start a band again...but never do. maybe this will be the year?

he's been recording stuff in his basement and he unenthusiastically promised to send me a link to his bandcamp page. as i was driving back to my sister's house i thought about how great his band was back in the day. and later on i listened to their discography as i wrapped presents; fond memories of that diy community of my youth rushing back to me. 

but i also wondered, why couldn't i tell him that? why did i mostly just feel sadness for his current situation, past glories collecting dust as he ages further into obscurity? perhaps if we shared these sentiments with each other more often it wouldn't be this way. 

how come our culture pressures us to keep it so cool? why are we discouraged from honestly sharing how much we respect and appreciate the people that have touched our lives? 

a couple weeks later, i found myself working at the radical bookstore in philly. the phone rang and the man on the end was looking to speak to someone who took care of ordering. i asked if he was looking to place an order and he responded, "i do a zine called cometbus and i was wondering if you all needed more copies of the back issues?"

and i kept it cool.

on the phone with aaron cometbus, one of the most legendary zine writers of the underground punk world, i remained calm and professional, despite becoming slightly friendlier as i counted the number of back issues on our shelf. 

after i hung up the phone i wondered, why did i keep it so cool? even though i demonstrated that i was familiar with his zine, why did i not feel comfortable saying how much i appreciated his work over the decades? maybe it's because i just assumed he knows and didn't want to hear it. he probably gets that all the time, right?

but what about my friend from my home town? and what about people from the past that are no longer with us? those that we now recognize as creative geniuses, but who--in their time--either toiled in obscurity themselves or struggled with mental health issues that prevented them from realizing their own greatness. 

as my friend ak thompson recently wrote about radical feminist icon shulamith firestone after she quietly passed away in 2012:

No mention is ever made of our collective failure, of the gulf between our willingness to concede Firestone's brilliance and our incapacity to realize a single one of her goals. Under venal conditions such as these, who in their right mind wouldn't retreat?

so, i think it's time for us to stop keeping it cool. let's remember to tell the people in our lives that we love and appreciate them. and let's stop being afraid to tell those whose creative and political work has inspired us that they should never give up and that what they do truly matters to us. 

we all deserve much more. 

new year/full moon

a lot people have anxiety about new year's; the intense social expectations to have fun and make meaningful resolutions for the year ahead.

i love new year's. i love celebrating with the most important people in my life. i love creating a more mindful space to reflect on where i have been and to consciously dream about where i would like to go. i love new beginnings. and i love a good party.

but this year was a little different. my current life in philadelphia feels plagued by stagnation so i decided i wanted to celebrate new year's elsewhere. but then after spending holiday time with family i came back to drop my luggage off and soon realized that i couldn't afford to leave.

so i just made the best of it. i entertained a few party possibilities where friends might be. and then, the night before, reality came crushing down on me reminding me how much i'm ready to move on, more forward, and challenge myself once again. i needed a new year's of solitude to think it all through.

so i made soup. i read and played my guitar. and i reorganized the desk in my bedroom--the one where i finally finished writing my master's thesis this past year. listening to the new throwback hip hop station on my radio, as the night went on, i separated a massive pile of recycled paper from year-old christmas cards and other personal items to save.

and then at midnight i turned off my lights and enjoyed the new year fireworks from my third-floor bedroom window. the impressive show exploded in front of the ben franklin bridge for several minutes. and i was alone, but it felt just right.

* * *

a few days later the first full moon of the new year arrived. yesterday also saw unseasonably warm weather in philly which combined for an extra weird day.

in the late morning, before i biked through light rain to my job, one of the active collective members of the bookstore where i volunteer announced over the listserve that she was leaving the collective. her message simply listed all of the responsibilities that other people would now need to take on in her absence.

less than an hour later, i arrived at the coffeeshop where i work to pay the bills. i was immediately informed that the newest worker (who started in the fall) had been fired that morning.

i stared at the new 2015 calendar as i washed dishes in the back and saw that, sure enough, it was a full moon: upheaval. endings. transitions. but also, new beginnings. new possibilities abound right now.

exhausted after a long shift, i went to bed early last night. in the middle of the night i woke up to the clearing sky giving way to the bright, raging moon pouring into my room. and i couldn't fall back asleep for more than an hour.

i was awoken again a few hours later by a brilliant sunrise through another window. a new day has begun. and i'm ready.

it might be nice to let some things go

she invited us to participate in this ritual
write something down
and release it
into the fire pit.

i let go of those people around me
i don't ever want to talk that way again
i don't want to know people like that anymore

i let go of the person i have started to become
and me and my friends 
are just growing 
into the drunks and the liars 
that we've always hated.

i released it all
into the fire pit
burn
burn
burn.

autumnal searching (2014 edition)

the seasons have changed once again. i find myself in the same house i moved into ("temporarily") one year ago. i'm done with school and i'm trying to figure out what i'm doing with my life now. anything is possible which is exciting/overwhelming. for now, i'm a barista with a masters degree in search of a new adventure.

returning to the summit/transcending self-sabotage

CorinaDross.com

back to that summit again. i'm so close. and yet, psychologically, so far away. but this is when everything changes. this is when i fully return to this project and to being a student. and soon, i will reach that summit and celebrate with an epic dance party.

over lunch we plot against our shared tendencies to procrastinate on the things that matter in our lives. we recognize these patterns for what they truly are: self-sabotage. we are that snake infinitely consuming its own body.

but no more.

today, i gain the strength to transcend this self-sabotage and actualize my wildest dreams.

that summit is too fucking close to turn back now.

winter residency of the mind

two years ago i began the masters program at goddard. that february, i took the train up to the campus in plainfield, vermont for the first time. and now, two years and 4--well, 3 and a half--semesters later, i find myself at my temporary home in philadelphia and not on campus graduating. i am missing the residency this week. sure, i deeply miss the friends and mentors who are currently gathered there, but also the residency itself and the opportunities that it provides. it has proven impossible to even try to replicate that experience here; that combination of intellectual (as well as social) immersion and solitude that i thrive on so much. but this is when things need to shift. i need to seriously return to the thesis and its vision over the next month. it is the most important thing in my life right now and i have to prevent other forces from trying to deny that.

this is what truly matters.

it's the end of another year

another year, fading away. i look ahead toward new beginnings and realize that i need to make things happen. more creating and less consuming in 2014. more challenges beyond the comfort zone. the challenge to be conscious in the present moment.

i don't want to be at lunch some day in the future just casually mentioning that the past decade has just flown by. like a blurry blink of 10 years of life.

i want more.

10 feet from the summit

another thanksgiving has arrived--another day of mourning. it was 9 years ago this week that i started writing here, almost one decade ago. and i'm still here. still writing. still mourning. still navigating this profoundly cruel and unjust world. but also still giving thanks for all the beauty and inspiration, for all the amazing people i have known and loved during this time.

so 9 years later, i find myself living in philadelphia; in the third neighborhood of my nearly 5 year journey here. my life is completely up in the air right now. i'm sitting in the waiting room, struggling to finish, now, my first draft of the master's thesis by next wednesday morning. everything is completely on hold until that is complete. from now until then, i will immerse myself in the writing. i will get into the zone and make this happen.

i just got off the phone with my sister who shared something very helpful from her experience in art school. one of her professors looked at a series of paintings she had done and responded, "it's as if you were 10 feet from the summit and then just turned around and went home." 

10 feet from the summit.

that's where i'm at now. after nearly two years of this low-residency program at goddard i am so close to being done. almost there. and yet lately, my focus and determination has been nonexistent. i have felt isolated from the process. i need to treat this challenging task ahead the same way i approached moving out of my house and into my current living space early last month. i didn't over-prepare. i just focused my determination on accomplishing what urgently need to get done. and i did it, despite everything. despite trips to the emergency room and parking tickets. i made it happen.

after this task ahead is complete next week, i will be free to figure out what the fuck i am doing with my life. i will update my resume, research job openings in philly and beyond, and spend most of my time writing cover letters and pursuing something new. a new life.

for now, i'm 10 feet from the summit. but i'm not turning around.  

leave(s)

fall has arrived and i'm ready to change with the leaves. embracing all the upheaval, the crumbling of foundations long taken for granted. i walk all around this city now, my bicycle broken and quietly resting in the parlour of my temporary living space. walking, we notice the details of the changes going on around us. yes, the leaves do change colors in the city. they are bright and then earth-toned...and then dead. i walk miles to sit in a coffeeshop, one that i will be not getting paid minimum wage to be inside. sitting there, gazing out the window, instead of diligently writing, i see the one face i would prefer to never see again pass by. it's unclear whether we made eye contact or not. but in that moment, i think to myself: i need to get the fuck out of here. i should leave. and fantasies of starting a new life in a new place are so comforting. like the change of the seasons. but for now, i am here. and i am writing. i am changing.

supervising myself, against all odds

i'm sitting at my desk in my new room, looking out onto my new neighborhood as the sun begins to set once again. another day. another massive challenge and nothing to show for it. i'm feeling pathetic. this is my last chance to get my first draft of my thesis to my advisor and i can't even begin to write. not a single word. what the fuck is wrong with me? i think back to 6th grade. sitting at my childhood desk in my bedroom 20 years ago, i struggled to write my report on the man-o-war jellyfish. i missed the due date and my authoritarian social studies teacher marked me down. then i think back to my first year living in northampton, struggling to write an article about an antiwar protest that was overdue for a friend's website. i was getting paid for that one, but i still couldn't find the focus or determination to make it happen. then my dear friend liz accompanied me to the public computer lab at smith college's library. she graciously acted as my chaperone, making sure i kept on track. sitting behind me, she kept looking up from her graphic novel, providing much needed supervision until i finished the article. eventually, i wrote it. and then we were free to leave. liz saved my life and i will forever be thankful for that. before i go to bed tonight i need to somehow find the strength and the focus to write a rough draft of the main body of my thesis. then i will wake up in the morning, pump out a draft of the concluding chapter, put it all together and send it off to my advisor before i head to my coffeeshop job in the afternoon.

inhale. exhale.

i can do this.

wow.

one month ago i fell off my bike. i fell as a result of a driver's reckless behavior. when they drove directly through a red light just ahead of me, along my route to work, i slowed down in disbelief. i turned my head as they continued driving south to yell the only word that made sense: "WOW." i then lost balance and hit the pavement with my bike. i scrapped my left elbow and then, with most of my body weight, landed on my right hand. with adrenaline racing through my bloodstream, i rose back on my feet and hopped on my feet and back on my bike. wow. i biked the remaining two blocks to work with my right handlebar slightly bent, my elbow bleeding, and my right wrist sore. i made it through my work shift despite everything, thanks to some pain relievers, a bandage, and a lot of extra help from my sweet coworker.

a month later, the scab on my elbow has almost disappeared, but my wrist is still pretty fucked up. sometimes our bodies heal like we expect them too. other times, they need some assistance. our wrists are made up of dozens of tiny bones and tendons and some of the pieces of my right wrist are still damaged, one month later. as one of the millions of americans without health insurance, i do not have access to a doctor to fix this. and even the community acupuncture clinic in my neighborhood is not an option for me financially right now.

so i wait. i patiently let my body heal itself as i walk around the city now. i walk everywhere and embrace the new perspectives offered as a pedestrian. i slow down and turn my head, and say to myself, "wow." does it really have to be like this?

revolt against adulthood

i turned 32 in april and i've spent the whole year thinking about 10 years ago, back to when i was finishing college. in that last semester, spring 2003, i decided to just do everything: write most of my senior project, save the old gym, try to stop a war, and even start a new band. i was fueled by radical ambition and i made it all happen. everything seemed possible.

10 years later, i returned to that college where i graduated at age 22. there's too much to say about the reunion here, although that story will  be told, but i do want to mention the driving theme heading into that experience and which defined last weekend for me: forging a balance between navigating the responsibilities of being in one's 30's and a dedication to redefining, or even revolting again, adulthood. escaping the trap of what-are-you-up-to-now? conversations, i squatted the reunion.

a few nights after i returned to philly, i realized that something i need in my life now is new challenges, new experiences, and to push myself into the unknown, out of the comfort zone i have sculpted this past decade.

this year, i will be writing a new thesis and finishing a masters program. it is what lies beyond this that will offer what i need. something bigger. something radically ambitious.

a season for new ideas

"for me, the fall is always a time of new ideas," she said as i paid for my coffee.

i like that. a season of new ideas. and here we are: immersed in the fall, embracing autumnal insights and revelations. we are ready for new ideas, new music, new experiences.

new everything.

but we also need to look back, to reflect. this is also a season of introspection.

the day before the multi-billion dollar 2012 election, one of my old little league pals from cape cod died of a heart attack at the tragically young age of 32. it doesn't make any sense that nick desimone is no longer alive on this planet with us. when something horrific like that happens it helps you put into perspective all the petty bullshit in your life and serves as a reminder of what really matters--namely the people we love and love us. don't take any of that for granted.

my heart goes out to nick's loved ones and family, especially his dad lenny who was the best fucking t-ball coach ever.

in other thoughts, i am finishing up my second semester of grad school. my winter break begins the first week of december and i don't return to goddard again until mid-february. during this time i will be starting research for my thesis, including a revisit of my "passions and survival" project. i will also be revising an essay for my progress review on developing a radical "right livelihood" beyond capitalism. it will be nice to have this time to catch up on my work and get back on track before my final year of the program begins.

until then, cheers to new ideas.

 

conquering today

my final packet of the semester is due today. here i am at grindcore house to finally confront this situation. part of the psychology of procrastination is the denial of reality. we convince ourselves that everything is just fine, our hands covering our eyes as we begin to approach the cliff ahead of us. today, i am opening my eyes up and embracing the fierce urgency of NOW. today is about getting shit done and being in the zone. it's also about demystification and conquering self-destruction. taking away the power from fucked up dyanamics and fucked up tendencies that get in the way of our own liberation. those things that become barricades to realizing our dreams. today, we tear them down and keep moving ahead...

conscious unemployment & the paradox of freedom

it's been over a month now since i quit my job. two days after my last day i found myself on a plane to chicago to write about the protests there between may day and the NATO summit. every day i was there i tried to be grateful of the situation, of not having to go to work at this place that made me miserable for four months. of course i also started missing philly and looking forward to leaving. 3 weeks is a long time to visit one place.

now i'm back in philly. i'm focusing on the end of my first semester in grad school, prioritizing being a student while i can. i have just enough money saved up to sort of scrape by through, at least some of, the summer. so here i am, consciously unemployed. i'm free. but this first week back in philly has been a struggle. when you don't have to be somewhere, to punch the clock everyday it is up to you to stay focused and be productive. in theory this moment is all about reading and writing all the time, eating and breathing my studies. but when you're free, it's hard not to enslave yourself with destructive (or at least unhealthy) tendencies.

in a repressive culture where we are conditioned to follow orders, we become dependent on our own unfreedom. in these rare moments of empowerment and liberation, we tend to self-sabotage ourselves by pursuing the things that are bad for us because, well, we can do whatever the fuck we want.

but this is not inevitable. part of being consciously unemployed is resisting this tendency and demonstrating that we do not have to be dependent on hierarchical instituitions ordering us around and structuring our lives by their clocks and bank accounts. we have the capacity to control our own lives, and yes, to be free.

two-thousand-twelve: this is what adulthood looks like

i guess i missed the deadline for reflecting on 2011. oh well. i have already moved on. after a year of profound personal change, challenge, and growth, i am embracing the potential of this new year. this fresh start couldn't have arrived any sooner. if 2011 was defined by loss, introspection and the recognition of unhealthy patterns, 2012 is all about moving beyond these lessons learned and actualizing my desires.

one week ago, i began this year waking up in a very adult bedroom. this person's living space exuded a "i-totally-have-my-shit-together" aesthetic. even though i will likely never return to this bedroom, i was inspired by this monument of adulthood and see it as a metaphor for what lies ahead in my year.

i already feel like more of an adult now than i did in december. after working the last 8 and a half months of 2011 washing dishes at a cafe, i now find myself a very different situation. for the first time in my adult life i have a job where i am earning a living wage. when my roommate kyle moved back to his hometown in massachusetts at the end of december i took over his position doing food deliveries for big-shot catering company in philly. the material benefits have already manifested in the form of a workable (hell, even fancy) phone, a bike helmet that will actually protect my brains, pants without holes, and a new stylish winter jacket.

this is what adulthood looks like.

not the voracious accumulation of material possessions. i'm talking about the ability to provide oneself with basic human needs. over the past 8 years the inabilty to do so has, in many ways, preventing me from following my dreams. when you are stressing out about paying bills it is often difficult to go beyond that point, to realizing the impossible. we are trapped in a monthly loop of phone calls from debt collectors, piles of recycled warning letters, shitty food, and a psychological block around escaping this fate.*

on december 30th, appropriately, i worked my final shift at the cafe, closing out a challenging year of starts and stops, confusion and revelation. on january 6th of this new year, i finally submitted my application to goddard college's masters in individualized studies program. after months and months of talking about this plan i finally put it all together and sent it out. i will likely begin my graduate eduation next month with the program's week-long residency. and i will be one step closer to actualizing my dreams.

this is what adulthood looks like.

*[of course, i am just speaking from my own experience here. i have had the privilege of only needing to take care of myself (ie: not supporting a family) and also being part of a really amazing, supportive community of friends and family.]

closure/possibilties

sometimes closure can serve as a catalyst. in these often painful moments when reality is turned on its head, we have no other choice but to accept, to move on--and from there, the possibilities are limitless. and this is where i have been standing for the past month. (well, more like dancing and exploring than a state of immobility). in the space of clarity and revelation i have an opportunity to discover who i am and what i truly want out of my life. and it's not an easy process, but it feels good.