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Life Matters

[Crossposted from the blog of the program which I’m honored to direct, FirebirdTransformations.com]

Many people avoid the news because it’s become such a repetitious carnival of the same old, same old. Some politician said this crazy thing, a celebrity was photographed in some scandalous way, and then there’s the things we don’t like to see; terrorism, gun violence, diseases spreading. Even worse, we’re inundated with a THIS versus THAT way of viewing situations. Just like looking at a coin, you can only see the heads side- you have to turn it, alter perspective, to see the tails side. Then, you might just notice the edge separating the two- the “third” way. Part of what we do is train our Members and ourselves to focus on the edge, the gray between the white and black, getting comfortable with the “maybe?” between the yes and no. What a service the media would do for the world if it offered just the slightest bit of looking for the “other” between the THIS and THAT!

We’re endured heart breaking arguments about certain lives mattering less than others, and seen pitiful examples of some lives obviously mattering more (wealthy celebrities with great lawyers walking away from crimes download (5)that would make felons out of everyday people

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, etc). However, there’s been shifts. Among them, the media is finally pushing through celebrity schmutz and the poo-litical mudslinging to shine a light on this genuine epidemic, in the truest sense of the word. Whether you like him or not our President has put evidenced based treatment of Opioid Addiction at the forefront of his agenda for his final year in office. You can say “too little, too late,” but the fact is this initiative is going to save lives. Any life that can be saved matters.

All of the men in our sober living program have lost friends or family to this disease. It’s personal for me too: I’ve lost two cousins to overdoses, a stepmother to alcoholism, and other family members where substance abuse contributed to their decline- not to mention the many friends who are gone forever because of lethally addicting chemicals. The “War on Drugs” really was a war on people, and solved nothing. We know that now. We know that because of hard science, not the blustery opinions of Congresscritters or expert-shaped Bobbleheads who get airtime to spout words without supporting data. People using the scientific method, from clinicians on the front lines to researchers behind the scenes have dedicated their lives to finding truly effective methods to break the cycle of addiction, and these are emerging. We must unite behind these, putting aside the insistence that we only see one way. People living with addiction for too long, living without hope and social investment, know of three outcomes of one-sided thinking: “jails, institutions, and death.”

One of our mottoes here is “Recovery is a necessary social movement to reclaim the value of life.” This isn’t just meant to be a catchy slogan, it’s a call to action. The only way we can create a change in this polarized environment is to be the “other,” to replace the “versus” with insistent and authentic recitation of verses for the creation of justice where it hasn’t yet grown. Our people need justice- in this case, access to affordable and effective evidence based treatment of addiction- not jail, which merely isolates the disease and allows it to fester. There is a hugely disproportionate number of African-Americans who are sent to jail for non-violent, drug related crimes than Caucasians- fact. Same goes with poor people of any ethnic background. Once FIREBIRD has fully established itself as a stable and sustainable company, my next project will be to reach out to the needs of these underserved populations, including the LGBTQ community, where there are few to no viable aftercare choices after treatment.

I ask you, whoever you are, to support the President’s bi-partisan initiative to make the drastic changes in the Opioid Addiction field needed to begin to not just lower the death rate, but to change the dialogue about substance abuse. Let’s start talking about why addiction manifests so we can have a broader range of preventative and intervention options in place- not just institutionally, but in our way of thinking and understanding. Let’s recognize addicts- such a stained word- as people just like anyone else who have a curable disease, not as people who we automatically don’t trust. At FIREBIRD, we begin with trust. We hold fast to the ethic that each human being is entitled to be treated with the utmost dignity and respect, equal to and above the full potential of the dignity and respect that’s repaired in the recovery process. We think of this as a small part of the paradigm shift that a new way of approaching addiction requires. As they say, if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem. We are very much prepared to be a loud voice in addiction advocacy and also to be a good listener as new data comes forward as to best practices.

We recently got our first batch of T-Shirts with words adapted from Gandhi’s ethos for social change. They say “I am the the change I’ve been wanting to see in the world.” That’s what this shift is about; to be unabashedly honest and authentic perspective shifters in a world so intent on only seeing- and believing- the coin has one side. As Staff, Members, and Families, being that change means that we’re willing to flip the coin, reveal the other side, and most importantly, the edge.

 

 

Weep For Brussels, Wail for the World

Today, Brussels and the world are reeling in the news of yet another bloody spasm of hate-blinded ideologies trying to make a point.  The pictures are painful to look at. For some us, those places are familiar, our heartstrings are yanked, and as with France and Great Britain we in the United States feel a very strong sense of solidarity and compassion in the wake of these barbarous attacks. Yet there is an even sadder footnote: every day, around the world, the bloody spasm of hate-blinded ideologies tears new wounds into innocent flesh, and what will make the news are the numbers dead, if that. Much goes on without our awareness- selective media, selective attention, selective tolerance to reality. Surrounding every continent, there are grave humanitarian crises which daily claim scores of lives, some days hundreds.

Brussels joins the sad chorus of 2016’s wake up calls with Mogadishu

, Eel-Adde, and Baidoa, Somalia; Panathkot, India; Camp Speicher , Baghdad, Ramadi, Mosul, and Muqdadiya, Iraq; Zleiten, Libya; Istanbul, Diyarbakır, and Ankara, Turkey; Quetta, Peshawar and Charsada, Pakistan; Koupaye,  Bodo, and Meme, Cameroon;  Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso; Deir ez-Zor, Aleppo, Homs, Damascus, and Sayyidah Zaynab, Syria; Jalalabad and Kabul, Afghanistan; Dalori, Dikwa, Yashari, and Maiduguri Nigeria; Ntombi, Democratic Republic of Congo; Aden, Yemen; Grand-Bassam, Ivory Coast; Arish, Egypt.

 

Morning Medicine

Right outside home this morning was a beautiful redtail hawk. Not flying away, just there and present. With its keen eyesight and deep wisdom, there’s knowledge there of what’s prey, threat, what’s neither, and what’s just part of the world of a hawk. I think when we stop, breathe, keep our eyes open and survey everything we know, as humans there’s really so little actual threat. When humans threaten other humans, the only real threat is when one takes the bait and falls for the trap

Kondylooma tiedotus

, the head trip, the kill or be killed of it all. I believe though we spend a lot of time in threat-preparedness mode versus survey and see what’s just a part of the world of being a human. It makes being a human so much easier.

Wouldn’t mind the wings, though.

Transformations

I’ve had the dream of a men’s recovery program based on brotherhood, transparency, long-term trust, and accountability realized. That experience has come to a crossroads organizationally, and with one dream realized, another comes; to truly transform the ethos of sober living and offer more. With goodwill all around, I am embarking anew with the expressed support of more people than I can name, for which I’m beyond blessed and grateful. I am overjoyed to know that so many are already energetically supportive- now is the time where any and all actions will result in transforming lives.

“We” need your help. I am not doing this for myself- I am doing this for one of the most volatile and at-risk for premature death populations in the industrialized world. That’s why I’m putting all of this forward: our challenge

, the solution, the benefits, and how you can immediately help.

“He Knows It’s All Worthwhile”

The glow of a radio, playing after bedtime, is a most magical thing. A station in Philadelphia, sometimes frequency-scratched with static, sang me to sleep as my body rapidly mutated into adolescence from an innocence that wasn’t. Sometimes, the music wasn’t the point, it was the lulling, the glow, the imploring tones of men and women for emotions that weren’t yet named, but seeping, a slow leak in the hull of desire. Yet there were voices that caught me- I prayed to them as I’d pray to the amorphous God-thing that was assured to bring me good grades, Mom a better job, and get Dad to stop drinking. I made a point to watch the very first second of MTV, “Video Killed the Radio Star,” and in ways yet incomprehensible knew I was on the edge of something. So many times I’d watch history happen, but not like this.

“Now we meet in an abandoned studio
We hear the playback and it seems so long ago
And you remember the jingles used to go…
You were the first one
You were the last one
Video killed the radio star, video killed the radio star
In my mind and in my car, we can’t rewind we’ve gone too far.” 
1

These people were outrageous, and there was outrage. Where was the harm? By the time music videos had become a force, I was inwardly in a bloody knife-fight between hormones and morals. There were a few stand-outs of the video rockers that distracted the warring sides long enough for a calm, a hope, a shape for a secret inner me to say, yes, I know what they’re doing there.  Bodies were for reinventing, just assortments of singing shapes, clothes were sleek and shiny and permissive

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, a crow’s delight. Hair was no longer the thing you parted along the middle, it was the crest of a wave on a Fantastic Planet, dreams made by falling asleep to Night Flight… which had way too many secrets to give up for a 13-ish astronaut pretending to be lost in an alternate Universe, bereft of school, rules, taboos.

“When I was a very small boy,
Very small boys talked to me
Now that we’ve grown up together
They’re afraid of what they see
That’s the price that we all pay
Our valued destiny comes to nothing
I can’t tell you where we’re going
I guess there was just no way of knowing.”
2

No matter how complex social dramas pick away at the fading innocence of youth as adolescence becomes teenage years, nothing could ever pry away my sense of awe and wonder about the stars. I’d come to learn that at some point I had to “take my protein pills and put my helmet on,” in order to hang on to that love. The glow of that radio, in between Madonna, Cheap Trick, and Chaka Khan, would occasionally illuminate a dreamy diorama about a “Starman waiting in the sky” and it gave reprieve from bullying and bullshit. And then his videos- peak weirdness and inventiveness and yes, he was beautiful. It didn’t feel right to have a crush on him, I seemed to have established age boundaries, but his charisma and jumping from one experiment to another had me swooning- a vicarious alter-ego, if I could only sing, if I could only be as nimble, if only my eyes could captivate as his did. Then, the words made a two-dimensional sense. After a life lived, as a forty-something hunched over in his pajamas, warmed by a cat and having surmounted uncountable peaks of frightening mystery, do they truly carry heft now.

“Once there were mountains on mountains
And once there were sun birds to soar with
And once I could never be down
Got to keep searching and searching
Oh, what will I be believing and who will connect me with love?
Wonderful, wonderful, wonder when
Have you sought fortune, evasive and shy?
Drink to the men who protect you and I,
Drink, drink, drain your glass, raise your glass high.” 3

My looks began to change, change as quick as the Thin White Duke. I became less of an inkling and more of a somewhat, my shoulders rubbed other shoulders, breaking taboos once unleapt. I discovered music was no private affair, but a flag to be waved. As in war, some flags get shot at. But tribes often assembled based on their colors, cultures contrasted, merged, and the balladeers among us took up song. We learned the words, traded tapes, blew our minds on riffs and wordplay. The Goblin King was more epic than I believed him to ever to be. Before I was born, “the tactful cactus by your window survey[ed] the prairie of your room,” and how many times have I sung those lines in exultant verdant reverie since then? By then, it was a crush. Cat People, Goblin King, Ziggy Stardust, The Man Who Fell To Earth I loved all- there was something about his sensuality, synesthetic words, chords made from my very sinew and loin that made him my artistic proxy. If only I could be that: brilliant, sexy, well-spoken, alluring, inspiring, passionate, and at times maudlin (but with such glitter)… the me of the second decade didn’t know how to be himself, so he collected other selves, vast big selves like Bowie, until that epiphany hits that these are muses, but without a you, they’re hapless stimulus in your life, collecting dust. The creation of you begins- the songs are still there, but they take on more meaning then they ever had before.

“Oh, ‘It’s the madness in his eyes’
As he breaks the night to cry:
‘It’s really Me
Really You
And really Me
It’s so hard for us to really be
Really You
And really Me
You’ll lose me though I’m always really free.’” 
4

Decades pass. You remember the first time you heard that song, and like unwinding a Slinky you get to see its impact on your life in context. Since this coil to now, it’s been with me. David Bowie. Do you know how many millions of kids and lost ragamuffins your music gave affirmation to? You gave me a confidence that didn’t even have a name yet. Your heartful songs, playful or indicting, gave hope to the queer, the weird, the artists, the square pegs. I only use past-tense to mark this moment in time; it’s been just about 24 hours without you being alive in this world, in the bodily sense. Yet your music, from your first demo to the last cut on Black Star (below), is a living thing- it acts upon the world, alters it, eardrum by eardrum, one share at a time. You’ll be heard for the first time by young bodies who cannot comprehend the marrow, because their grasp is on the outward world forming, growing, bones that will dance, make love, recoil in fear, uncoil in epiphany, become, and dance again. I cannot see the end of my own coil, but I know you’ll be with me. I just have one question- rather, one request:

“Will you stay in a lover’s story?
If you stay, you won’t be sorry
Because we believe in you…” 5

.

  1. The Boggles, “Video Killed The Radio Star”
  2. New Order, “True Faith”
  3. David Bowie, “Station to Station”
  4. David Bowie, “Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud”
  5. David Bowie, “Kooks”

Refugees

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Tell me about your telescopes and what comes back

When your photon-intent gaze settles upon a patch of darkness-

Do you see nothing, do you see gradients of time, do you see a waiting-ness?

My own eyes cannot fathom the sky- I double over in a holy if unwhole incomprehension

Knowing the dark is a way of summing all I cannot know, after being wowed I bow in submission.

Yet the dark is a populated place, not just shoulder to shoulder with stars, but it is the canopy

Of a tattered tent for a million names

, voices murmuring in ancient rhythm with the winds

Homeless yet by heritage bound to soil proudly staked and blood-dabbed in bouts

Yet now drought-caked, cold tired huddled masses fenced in by barbed rhetoric

Yearning is for a suchness beyond the babe’s muddied face, it’s a gasping

Grasping for humanity upon cold shores, dim fires and inshallah charity

Bread, just bread, maybe currant juice, the children will take anything.

Tell me, what is darkness now, and what is lightness, and of you?

It is the bulk of the Universe, and the shield under which

Scores of refugees run for their very lives; your mystery

Is their shelter, their shelter is our perplexion, and

Even now the safest of us fall to the street for

Crumbs in the night, be they as stars-

For they shine as such as to grace

A moment of hope, may we all

Be so blessed as no one is ever

Safe from having to seek

Refuge, from ever

Having to be

Called a

Refugee.

The Threat, And What’s Being Done

It’s time. It’s time to begin to talk as a society about society. Society needs to address the pariah that is society, as society is rapidly becoming an imminent threat to society. Society needs to begin to adopt measures as soon as possible to protect itself against society. Throughout history society has threatened to vanquish society time and time again, and while we have learned much over the years about how society works, the impacts on society are still difficult to measure. There are greater dangers that lurk though.

People themselves need to become highly aware of the people around them. People are savvy when it comes to attacking people, and people need to be conscientious yet weary of other people. People have become the number one cause of death of other people, directly or indirectly. People should be made aware of the characteristics of people; they have eyes, ears, noses, lips, and generally most other gear as other people and blend in easily. Yet even identifying people as the primary suspects of harming other people cannot surpass the deadliest of all scourges; their own brains.

People have known associations their brains- evidence has shown there have been linked activity going back as far as the dawn of time

http://ateamresource.de/.well-known/pharmacy/index.html%3Fp=81.html

, illustrating a disconcerting cabal between brains (the insidious problem being the phenomenon known as “thought”), people, and society. Brains have controlled the movements of people- the great problem here is that people cannot control the movement of brains. This leads to the unrivaled contagion of brains upon people, while people with brains have been actively working to determine a cause for brains and eliminate them and the threat they pose to society.

Meanwhile, the Earth is not verbally commenting on human activity.

Donate to Inland Regional Center, San Bernardino CA to support the disabled and workers who tirelessly serve them.

In memory of all who have been harmed and died in global conflicts

Confronting War, Violence and Hate with Love and CompassionIn memory of all who have been harmed and died in global conflicts and for our human family, We share this vision of creating peace in these times of anguish. Let us be love and compassion

, a link to interfaith understanding, and may we move together in harmony to reclaim the heart of humanity. Let our spiritual paths intertwine, our action join us in a global compassion effort, and let us lead our lives together toward a better world. Video © 2015 Parliament of the World’s Religions

Posted by Parliament of the World’s Religions on Monday, 16 November 2015

Jubilee! Community 11 Oct 15: Pacing the Cage of Addiction

[Note: The first iteration of this meditation was delivered under extraordinary circumstances. I am a sleep disordered individual- there’s another coming out (what’s our color/flag/anthem?). Sunday morning, I slept through three separate alarm clocks, not getting to Jubilee until the service was in swing, I had a flu-ish bug that that made concentration and exertion a hoot- nevermind speaking!- and technical foibles paired with a miscalculation on timing called for a heavily reworked second service, with minutes to spare. But by golly gosh, it was actually bettermuch better. Transparency means being able to say that hey- the first go around blew. But it also means that I could let go of material, focus on what worked, and let myself be guided by intuition over form. Sometimes, fuckups lead to feathers.]

October 1999. St. Joseph’s ER. Coming to- remembering only despair, wine and pills. Is this rock bottom again? I already had one after getting clean in ’97, moving to Asheville after heroin was taking out our friends one by one. Man, I thought everything was under control. Pretend it’s not there, but you never lose your shadow. A social worker asked me if I was trying to kill myself, leaning over my with a clipboard- a job I’d later have. He was suggesting I go upstairs. Upstairs means psych ward. Mom worked at those, she’d take me along when short on babysitters. Between that and a developmentally early affinity for Woody Allen I was busy self-analyzing instead of reading comic books. I’m grateful for my unique childhood. I plead my case to be released, yet inside, I knew that I was so broken that I made Humpy Dumpty look stable. Something had to give. I stepped outside that hospital when BAM! Clocked upside the head by an Epiphany, one that continues to create miracles, including this one right now. It was this: Congratulations, Jay, this the worst day of your life! The rock bottom, but if you choose, life only gets amazing going forward. The worst becomes the best- look at it as a cosmic reset button, a single chance at renewal when destiny is tightfisted with favors. Whenever asked, I recommend accepting the Universe’s offer. Breathe deeply.

Q&A: Once you recognize that you are in some way participating in an addictive cycle

SOA Behandeling online – Medicatie tegen SOA

, the first hurdle is to admit it, that’s where the support comes in. When you think of addictions, what comes to mind? ______________________  Yep, there’s just too many to name. It can be everything and anything.IMG_0117.PNG

In Twelve Step Fellowships, affirmations are repeated to become constant reminders of hope, one of which is: “We do recover.” Sounds nice, a happy dance to a designated date where you’re suddenly
cured, and everything’s a safe, sparkle-filled paradise of “it’s all good” it’s not. Nada. To use a highly clinical term, recovery sucks. We do recover means we do cry, we do feel worthless sometimes, we do yell into the darkness- sometimes there’s no response- or if there is one, it’s slammed doors, social prejudice, and arsonists busy with your bridges. Tolerating unfiltered reality, unflinching self-examination, and practicing rigorous honesty are challenging yet vital demands of transformation. I direct a residential recovery program; we have a saying so pivotal to our work that we enshrined it as art- just as the Via Negativa teaches, sometimes we have to “Do the things that suck.” From day one we’re socially stymied by two distinct messages;

Number 1: any discomforting experience is bad! “We have a right to not be inconvenienced!”

Number 2: we’re set up to confuse wants with needs. I NEED this to do THAT. Think big- think globally- on that one. How many ways does that fit into, and possibly effect your life? Our culture? Doing the things that suck requires unlearning these ingrained, automatic responses and making authentic, contemplative choices, avoiding shortcuts. There are many paths to healing, most of them at some point suck. From the Psalms:

“Shall Your wonders be known in the darkness or Your righteousness in the land of the forsaken?”

So Big H and I were apparently working from different translations but you get the drift. If the land of the forsaken is reachable to the Divine then that journey becomes our charge to keep- holy work is needed everywhere to touch the untouched. Ridiculous laws and social piety may draw borders around the forsaken, but the justice of a loving Creator is stronger than any barricade, it doesn’t matter how high you build that wall- love breaks through and the forsaken shall not be forgotten. Breathe deeply.

From the Tao Te Ching:

“Too much amassment leads to great loss; Knowing contentment avoids disgrace; Knowing when to stop avoids danger. Thus one can be long in safety.”

While pacing this particularly brutal cage as individuals, there’s no denying that there’s visible evidence of a hooked planet from space. The emptiness-es we fill are optional luxuries, at the cost of whole ecosystems, surging sea levels, and masses of plastic in our oceans that as a cluster are larger than several nations combined. Amassment Addiction may be a more accurate word than consumerism. 2,600 year-old wisdom says “Too much amassment leads to great loss.” Sobering- pun intended.

It’s the Via Negativa guys! YAY! Don’t you just love it! Call me a masochist, I LOVE the Via Negativa for its brave honesty. While difficult, we’re strengthened by saying to the darkness “I choose to withstand you. I accept that in experiencing you, I am experiencing life as it is- without need to look away.” That’s why laughter is required when dealing with life’s dingy side. Forget the tropes you see on TV, people laugh in recovery meetings, often at the same old jokes, but still:

  • Always do sober what you said you’d do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut.
  • We’re all here because we’re not all here.
  • Come to ninety meetings in ninety days. If you’re not satisfied, we’ll refund your misery.
  • And WC Fields: “Once during Prohibition I was forced to live for days on nothing but food and water.

2015-10-11_VIA_NEG)Laughter, like getting together is good medicine. At Jubilee and in recovery groups, the most important person is the newcomer. In the rooms, it’s also about the person who picks up the white chip a ritual symbolizing their first day clean, while reminding that each of us can have a Day One at any time. Jubilants, our world needs to check in upstairs and detox. The symptoms are clear, and each of us is knowingly or unknowingly part of the problem- but we’re also part of the solution.

So I invite you in your heart to virtually pick up a white chip today, to renew our commitment to recovering and restoring harmony. White chips are the only ones offered twice; sometimes you have to build up the courage to say yes, it’s time. Well, it’s time.

Occasionally we push the envelope here at Jubilee, going into musical territory that might not be for everybody, but the World Beat Band ain’t pop radio. To be true to the theme, I wanna honor the many people with whom I’ve been blessed to work over the years. When considering music for this service, the replies were consistent: “This song tells my story.” So if you have a stick in the mud, yank it out and belly up to the salsa, because we’re going to do some Red Hot Chili Peppers. The progression of lyric
s in this song is very deliberate. Let’s sing:

Sometimes I feel Like I don’t have a partner
Sometimes I feel Like my only friend
Is the city I live in The city of angels
Lonely as I am Together we cry {beat}
I drive on her streets ‘Cause she’s my companion
I walk through her hills ‘Cause she knows who I am
She sees my good deeds And she kisses me windy
I never worry Now that is a lie {beat, chorus}
I don’t ever want to feel Like I did that day
Take me to the place I love Take me all the way
I don’t ever want to feel, Like I did that day, Take me to the place I love
Take me all the way (yeah yeah)

 The first prayer I ever learned was the Lord’s Prayer, which I solemnly recited when my first goldfish died, because what else does a little rugrat say? Bye could’ve worked. There was a time when I couldn’t stomach Christianity, but Jubilee brought me back to understanding the teacher Yeshua in a whole new light. But it’s the good ol’ KJV “Give us this day our daily bread” that jazzes me up. It’s revolutionary; we have a basic human and divine right to be nourished, sustained, not taking more than we need. Yet when you’ve been cast aside, labeled, misdiagnosed, and repetitively jailed for a disease by a system so broken there’s no justice in it, hope is just a four letter word. If you want to help, get involved now, lives are on the line today. The addiction stigma will only be broken by those willing to understand, which means going into the darker places, and offering a hand, to freely give daily bread, not another hand-out.

It’s hard to believe That there’s nobody out there
It’s hard to believe That I’m all alone
At least I have her love The city she loves me
Lonely as I am Together we cry
I don’t ever want to feel Like I did that day
Take me to the place I love Take me all the way
I don’t ever want to feel Like I did that day
Take me to the place I love Take me all the way (yeah yeah)
Ooh no (no no yeah yeah) Love me I say yeah yeah

Sure, we have a spiritual sweet-tooth, but if we’re gonna say that God is in the cute critters we blessed last week, we’re gonna say that God is under a metaphorical and real bridge as well, a shelter for those whose will has been overcome by a massive spectrum of debilitating dependencies. Going under this bridge is to fully enter the Via Negativa and raise up Creation from the discarded, that the Holy shines brightly enough to offer the most important choice there is… LIFE!

Under the bridge downtown Is were I drew some blood
Under the bridge downtown I could not get enough
Under the bridge downtown Forgot about my love
Under the bridge downtown I gave my life away (yeah yeah)

Giving your life away is not what you think. Death comes to mind but that’s life taken away. Giving your life away is entrusting yourself to the Holy. Surrendering to the One. Recognizing that you and the Earth are inseparable and what you do to your body you do to Her. Ending the lies and the secrets, letting the sunshine in to reveal there’s nothing to cover up- you’re beautiful, blessed stronger than any need. Let’s answer a call today, let’s be the sacred activists this world needs, let’s rally as compassionate warriors and heal the causes of addiction and let’s give our lives to the guidance of the miracle that brought us here… as they say “Yesterday is history; tomorrow is a mystery; today is a gift – that’s why they call it the present.”

Under the bridge downtown I gave my life away (yeah yeah)

Oh Yeah, and keep comin’ back.

W/M © 1991 Flea, Frusciante, Kiedis, Smith

Poem Written On The Treadmill At The Gym

The body is a short term lease agreement between the ineffable infinite
And the phenomenon that bears your name.
Here you are, bold enough to persist through every conceivable trap
To make another day, a something from nothing.

Incarnation- what gives us the right?
As it is to us Creation is a commodity for the scavenging
Upon closer examination it’s indivisible eternity
As are we, smoothly faceted in deep reverie gazing, ravaging!

Some day, I return the keys of this body undistracted by the security deposit;
It’s how I leave the space, and hoping the vibes
Feel good when the door is opened- this life

, it’s one big welcome home
A split-second housewarming for each of us over and over.

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