Where I've Been...

As my time away from college has continued so has my growth, transformation, and self-liberation. Upon leaving Harvard I had no idea where I was going. All I knew was that I was withering and I had to leave. It was scary to actually stop and not only listen to my truth, for I heard it all along, but to actually follow it. Nine months later I feel myself beginning to bloom, coming to life, reborn, but I'm still not sure what's coming next.

And it's true, I feel like a vastly different person today from when I left Harvard. An awakening of sorts, something in me has been stirred. A consciousness and awareness. I suppose if I had to give it a name I'd call it spiritual. And sometimes I feel like I'm crazy, bonkers, totally off my rocker. And sometimes I feel like it's the most beautiful, true, passionate, deep, loving thing I've ever known. Usually I'm confused, torn, thrashing around somewhere in-between the two trying to understand which it is. And maybe they both are, I don't know.

But recently I've been compelled to write.... here's where I've been...

Reflections from 10/30/09
10/30/09

The title says it all. I was on College heading to Yasai market for a cucumber, some persimmons and cherry tomatoes. Along the way I was compelled to whip out my journal and write. I feel so strongly about this that I'd like to share it with you. Yeah, yeah, I know this is facebook, but thank you for your love, your support, and daring me to fly.

Come to the Edge by Christopher Logue (stumbled upon in a book of Gabe's, slightly altered by me)

Come to the edge, you said.
I might fall.
Come to the edge, you repeated.
It’s too high!
COME TO THE EDGE!

And I came,
and you pushed,
and I flew.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UaSMROk-D-A&feature=related

****

Let me here speak of the beautiful absurdities of life:

To rebuild from the ground up is a strong and powerful experience. The depths of the lows are so cavernously cold and dank and dark. The life essence has so seemingly been sucked out that not even mold has space to digest and decompose the lingering breath of anything once alive. Down there exists nothing except a gaping emptiness somehow brimming over with loneliness and despair. Gray and dead, with the skeletons of souls scattered and thrown astray. And when you're there, you're stuck. There is no such thing as light or a smile, all things good cease to exist beyond the memory of your imagination, if even that. It is the hollowed eyes of hopelessness that the ancestors of sadness have carved into your face, through which one can only see nothing. Not even bitterness or anger are present.

And holding on is the hardest, must excruciating experience - physically, mentally, and emotionally, for there is nothing there for your hands to grasp, and besides, everything is pointless anyhow. Why not just end it now?

Perhaps it's just fear that has prevented me from ever truly damaging and bringing harm to myself, in the physically tangible sense. But if it's only fear, then it is partly a fear of foregoing the freedom that is to come if I can just hold on, just a little while longer, for an instant release. In that fear still flutters something, softly, quietly, but there it flaps, its wings gently caressing the dangerously jagged edges of this dark place, reminding - hush, darling, breathe, everything will be all right. It is a remembrance, it is the echo of something ancient that still finds words and speaks today, as it always has, and as it always will. It transcends us in its intimacy with the cosmos and all that is beyond, and it is us, within us, understands us and all, for all is us, we are all it, and there is nothing but it.

So then, what is life and death? Why hold on? Well, for days like today, and for weeks like this one, following summers like this past one. And everything was always moving to this point, all of my life's experiences were precipitating the dark space I visited this past summer, and then the beautiful day I had today, which followed an equally wonderful week. So it is that when you view everything with scope and perspective that you are able to realize and appreciate the profundity of life's beauty and absurdity. Nicole first arrived as a reminder, a soul sister, a godsend, an angel, an ooooold friend returning to each others' sides. There is Gabriel - while our paths have crossed before I don't beleive we've ever stopped to chat, for his journey has taken a far different route. I have already learned so much from him. Joolian and Raphi, I love you each respectively for many things, but right now mostly thank you for standing out and helping me stand out. And today I made music and ate good food with Ashkon, and we saw Peter, our camper from Monkey Biz who was also at Mosaic. As I was walking down College I saw Dylan, another camper from Monkey Biz, eating with her mom. And then I was sitting and thinking Vince drove by and I heard my name and saw his hipster plaided arm waving from the window of the minivan. These friends of mine are everywhere. I believe that today they were speaking to me, and smiling, saying - Welcome back, to the land of living. I have made my ascent, and life is good.

****

And here a disclaimer: I recognize that there are various contradictions in these words, perhaps falsehoods, or maybe a better word is misnomers. I also recognize that these words open up various other doors and pathways of words, but those were not for me to open in my ruminating reminiscent reflections in my journal today. I promise they are fleeting about, floating around in my head, though. I FULLY recognize the absurdity of that one sentence, I know you know which one. Finally, I recognize that I have only just begun my ascent. Please appreciate these words as they are.

and by opening up other doors and pathways i do mean that some of these things are much more complex and layered than they are presented here.

and by please appreciate these words as they are i do not mean to prevent any discussion or dissent, but more to cut me slack and appreciate the fact that i know a lot but i know very little.


daylight savings fall 2009
11/1/09

i'm in a really funny mood right now. my life feels like a spider web of events. and right now specifically it feels like puzzle pieces sifting, shifting, moving around and falling into place with a satisfying click-connection sound. i'm cleaning my room, the room that has been "mine" since 7th grade when we moved around the corner to this house. we being my family, my mom, my dad, my brother, and me. and our dog Toby (who had originally been my gramma's dog, but then she moved up here from southern california to an old-person's home by the lake and toby came to live with us... and the car i drive used to be my gramma's), but after we moved we also got Chaz, and Toby's dead now.

anyway, this room and i have been having issues. something's been very off. i hate sleeping in here and never wake up fully rested because this room is so full, it's pregnant with memories and stories and, well, my life. i have amassed so much STUFF over the years - pictures and letters and trinkets - and even though i've done deep cleanings, rearranged furniture and gotten rid of shit, somehow lots of little THINGS have managed to stick around, these clumps in corners and piles in random drawers. and, you see, all of this stuff, this shit, these things, they are SOMETHING. they carry a weight, an energy, an essence, they have a sort of life and story to them. and, i don't know, it feels like they emanate little rays that you can't see, but if you could they'd be wavy and moving and colors like electric lime and magenta, very 80's, you know, and i emanate those little rays too, and our rays interact.

well, these rays are creating pressure in my back and a tension in my body. i'm off-balance. i burnt some sage, and that helped. breathing deeply also helps. which reminds me right now to breathe.

and right now i'm cleaning this room, organizing, throwing out, looking over, reflecting, breathing as i sit on the floor of this room surrounded by my life - my life in pictures, in cards, in drawings, in old notes, in 2nd grade assignments, in letters - to me and from me. and EVERYTHING has meaning and says something, the type of ink used, the handwriting, the clothing, the eyes, the hairstyles, the things being depicted, the level of resources used to make it (this is specifically for various types of fancy hallmark/papyrus cards i have) and how my body responds to that. not to mention the words. i feel like an anthropologist examining and excavating my own life. and it has been especially crazy paying attention to how my body feels after i read certain cards and reflect on the words or who the person was in my life, the meaning.

but it's just CRAZY to see my whole life in front of me, see these different versions of samra that i don't identify with at all. they feel like strangers. the cute little girl with missing front teeth in flowery dresses (at this age i wrote a letter to my mom for mother's day thanking her for being so nice and beautiful and buying me clothes and toys), the awkward chubby girl wearing washed out colors (at this age my dad was still sending me letters with cutesy, glittery fireflies and ladybugs on the cover while i was at camp signing them "love, daddy" but crossing out the "y" and replacing it with an "a"), the makeup-laden pre-teen and teenager with shiny braces and bright, tight, little clothing (at this age ALL of my friends had to give me a birthday card declaring all of our inside jokes and how much they loved me, and definitely something about themselves, in curly letters and different colored markers, we all always had to for anyone's birthday), the sad-and-distant-looking youngwomangirllateteenager

with short hair in a prom dress (graduation cards are dignified, even if the "words of inspiration" are all jokey and have pictures of puppy dogs with diplomas in their teeth they still carry a serious message, and everyone wrote sort of serious sounding best wishes as i headed off to harvard), and the girl who i was 10 months ago when i left school and all of my roommates (technically blockmates at harvard, but i don't want to go into that whole explanation about harvard housing) gave me a giant card that sings wild thing and has a blown up picture of the 8 of us at my goodbye party that weekend.

and i kind of want to write a memoir or make a(n auto-?) documentary. but then those voices tell me that i'm being selfish and egotistical. and then there's this issue that i'm cleaning and encountering all of these THINGS that make these fucking piles, the letters and cards and pictures, you know, and they tell this story of my life. and it's beautiful. it's a moving experience. but i'm cleaning. and now i don't want to get rid of them, i want to keep all of this STUFF. so i've ben asking myself a lot of questions, this whole time lots of questions, and now it's that if i keep it all will it really be not moving on or letting go? if i don't throw it away will it all still bump its fat belly against me? will it weigh me down? ...but let's say what if i did throw it away, then what, would i be forgetting, and besides it's so beautiful and powerful, and why is it so bad to hold on to these things, just as reminders? just so that i continue to look inward, at myself, at all of these different versions of myself, hold them all and recognize them all and really see them all, because even if they don't look familiar or sound familiar or seem and act like me, i was never anyone else, i am not anyone else, and i will never be anyone else.

the clocks turned back again. time keeps going. another thanksgiving is coming.


Rambling Rumbles of Rumination
11/4/09

an excerpt from (or really most of) an email to my friend adrienne

but first a few explanations:

padame = pan-african dance and music ensemble - african dance and drumming
femsex = a student-led program on female sexuality offered through the women's center - i started during the spring of my freshman year but wasn't ready for that yet. adrienne was one of the students leading the program.
outing club = an outdoors club offering hikes, camping trips, etc. for the harvard community. they also rent out gear, from socks to tents to snowshoes.
fup = freshman urban program - a preorientation program for harvard freshman on social justice and diversity

***

my here has been... rapidly expanding. as my journey of self-liberation opens and unfolds i find myself, my being, thrashed around between sensations of glowing fullness and tight, tense, clenching soreness. letting go and letting in can be really painful. i am increasingly spiritual and loving of myself. i am becoming whole and, somewhat frequently now, feeling shards of myself come and click back together. exploring ideas of polyamory and beginning to truly accept, understand, and celebrate myself as a sexual being in whatever form that takes. and amidst all of this comes a loooooooot of thought regarding the perilously unsustainable state of western culture - values, ideas, use of resources... basically overall intention in regards to how we treat ourselves, others, and the earth. and amidst all of THIS comes a lot of thought regarding harvard - what it represents and how it ties into these maladies, to be honest, mostly negatively, i haven't given the positives much thought. but perhaps that's because the negatives are so powerful and important.

now i find myself stuck, though. part of me really does want to go back - there are classes that i want to take, people i want to connect with, i wanna do padame* and femsex* (now that i'm ready!) (is that still happening?), i wanna live in the coop, i wanna join the outing club* and be a fup leader*, and in that i feel so much vibrancy and excitement!

.....but i also feel something dark and smelly and rotten about it. i know that there's much more to life than the "traditional" (not to generalize) path of, and aaaaall that is vested in being a harvard student. i'm fairly confident that i can then be a not-harvard-student harvard student, simply by intentionally cultivating consciousness in my life and my actions and being aware and open and honest. but, do i want to do that? or do i really want to listen to those wild flutterings in my chest that want me to learn about permaculture and organic farming and sustainable buildings and energy resources and traditional herbal plant medicines and non-violent communication and co-counseling and meditation and guerrilla art and gardening and other beautifully self-expressive forms of art and creativity and dance and movement and COOKING! and storytelling and generally cultivating peace in all of my interactions and learning how to create a more peaceful world. and so, yes, i could return to harvard and probably fall into a very (self-)fulfilling life. i could get that !!!HARVARD!!!! degree to change the world, except what an oxymoron is that?! continue to put power and meaning into this elite institution, continue to rely on a harvard degree because it "means so much" and "opens doors" and, essentially, would allow me to get funding for whatever projects - how does THAT change the world? if anything all it does is keep things exactly the same. sure, less than 100 years ago i, as a woman of color, could by no means have had the opportunity to be at harvard that i do now, but the underlying, basic issue of WEALTH, PRIVILEGE and POWER still remains... ok, so maybe it allows me to change the world veeerrrryyyyy sloooowwwwllllyyyyy, because, yes, the world has changed and you every action has infinite possibilities, and every action is meaningful, and social workers and civil rights lawyers work tirelessly to change the world, and their work is incredibly important. but i remember hating it in 1st grade when we had to listen to other kids read because they were so fucking slow. well, this is kinda like that. the world needs a DRASTIC overhaul. our planet and our people are sick and ailing. and so, do i wanna go back to harvard and "work within the system to bring it down" but still really, truly, honestly be supporting and a part of that system, or do i wanna just... let..... go.......

this email is already far longer than i intended it to be, so i won't go into the depths of my contemplations on choices of fear and choices of freedom in my decision-making-process to go back to harvard - the security and safety of the path that i would have there... shit i already know everything i wanna do! but ultimately everything boils down to those two simple, powerful states of being: fear and freedom. how much of what i'm holding am i ready to let go of?