Samoas used to be my favorite. The girl in the fireman's outfit on the cover of the box seems happy. It's obviously because of the cookies.
That damn girl scout conned me. She made me. She was cute. And I had her future to think about.
I ate some before yoga.
It didn't seem to be a good idea while in the eagle position. Eagles need to soar. And this eagle wanted to vomit caramel coconut goodness all over her mat.
And then the clarity set it. That little sneakster. I bet she "conveniently" failed to mention that the top ingredient in those devil cookies is partially hydrogenated soy bean oil.
And then the horror came. Did she even know? Did all the girl scouts of America get tricked into selling these cookies filled with damaging pesticides, herbicides, synthetic additives and the like? Who's future are we really looking out for when we fork our money over?
Not mine. Or the yogini inside. And unfortunately, I feel that continuing on a tradition of buying cookies from cute girls eventually just hurts their future woman inside.
I decided, however, to not lecture the next team of green sashed girls outside the supermarket I saw. Despite that among other things, the name "Samosas" is not exactly politically correct.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Alone. At last.
Who cares. Who is looking at you? No one. I take a shower in the realization that it's only me. I want to cleanse myself. The mirror means nothing to me. I'm refreshing myself to myself. And I love it. You are beautiful the way you want to be. And I love it.
Poison Two: Attachment
Leo is a turtle and has beautiful dreams. We often share our vivid imaginations of the night past over morning tea. Since he’s British we always opt for Earl Grey, but sometimes when he’s not looking I’ll make Irish Breakfast.
His last dream was that the I Ching was inscribed on his shell. I didn’t tell him, but I can see faint signs of the hexagrams, which makes me quite happy (for him, of course).
Recently, Leo told me of his day dreams. He spoke majestically in his British accent and said that he had felt my energetic communication with him. But then he wasn’t sure if it was real. And so he opened his third eye and tried to listen a bit more intently.
But perhaps it was just a day dream of his own imagination. An unfortunate attack of the second poison. He admitted he didn’t think it was wise to day dream about the unreal too much.
I told him not to worry. The first step is recognition. And besides, I do like to energetically converse with him.
His last dream was that the I Ching was inscribed on his shell. I didn’t tell him, but I can see faint signs of the hexagrams, which makes me quite happy (for him, of course).
Recently, Leo told me of his day dreams. He spoke majestically in his British accent and said that he had felt my energetic communication with him. But then he wasn’t sure if it was real. And so he opened his third eye and tried to listen a bit more intently.
But perhaps it was just a day dream of his own imagination. An unfortunate attack of the second poison. He admitted he didn’t think it was wise to day dream about the unreal too much.
I told him not to worry. The first step is recognition. And besides, I do like to energetically converse with him.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
The Bees Knees
The bees are following me. I’m not sure why; I thought they were going extinct. That’s what the Discovery Channel said anyways. I don’t think I want things to go extinct… but I saw that one episode about the killer bees.
These aren’t killer bees though. They’re just normal. Some of them aren’t even bees; they’re yellow jackets… I think. But they’re following me. At the ferry terminal, I could see them floating across the window of my car. I was kind of scared, so I rolled up the window.
Sometimes I find them dead underneath my purse. I feel bad when that happens. If I had known they were there, I would have moved my purse sooner.
The Discovery Channel program was saying that they are really sensitive to electromagnetic fields, and perhaps are confused by our cell phone usage. I thought I could help them by sending messages through my third eye. You never know, it might have some electromagnetic qualities, itself. I’m not sure what I was saying, but it was with good intention. Once I did that, they started following me. Or maybe I’m just noticing them more.
I think they’re following me though. Sometimes I wonder what the message was.
These aren’t killer bees though. They’re just normal. Some of them aren’t even bees; they’re yellow jackets… I think. But they’re following me. At the ferry terminal, I could see them floating across the window of my car. I was kind of scared, so I rolled up the window.
Sometimes I find them dead underneath my purse. I feel bad when that happens. If I had known they were there, I would have moved my purse sooner.
The Discovery Channel program was saying that they are really sensitive to electromagnetic fields, and perhaps are confused by our cell phone usage. I thought I could help them by sending messages through my third eye. You never know, it might have some electromagnetic qualities, itself. I’m not sure what I was saying, but it was with good intention. Once I did that, they started following me. Or maybe I’m just noticing them more.
I think they’re following me though. Sometimes I wonder what the message was.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
A Guide to an Unguided Meditation
Monkey likes to meditate with Ibbs. He’ll often lead Ibbs in a guided mediation, asking him to concentrate on his feet and then feel the energy rise to his knees. But Ibbs doesn’t have knees. So he just looks to his feet until Monkey says otherwise.
Sometimes Monkey will get over zealous and require an intense session that could last hours if not days. Ibbs is always willing to comply. Because in reality (whatever that means), Ibbs is always in meditation.
Monkey doesn’t know this, but after each session he’s amazed at the tenacity of Ibbs and finds his own reward by regarding himself as the most awesome meditative teacher, Great Sage of all. Monkey used to say the title was equal to heaven, but Ibbs doesn’t know what Heaven is, so now Monkey just proclaims that he’s Great. And Ibbs agrees.
Sometimes Monkey will get over zealous and require an intense session that could last hours if not days. Ibbs is always willing to comply. Because in reality (whatever that means), Ibbs is always in meditation.
Monkey doesn’t know this, but after each session he’s amazed at the tenacity of Ibbs and finds his own reward by regarding himself as the most awesome meditative teacher, Great Sage of all. Monkey used to say the title was equal to heaven, but Ibbs doesn’t know what Heaven is, so now Monkey just proclaims that he’s Great. And Ibbs agrees.
Monday, August 9, 2010
The Indifferent Ibbs
Ibbs comes from a special place. The story changes from time to time, but when he speaks about the land in which he came from he talks in colors. Wonderful yellow Ziggie blossoms the size of bowling balls adorn the banks of purple streams that wind meticulously in and out of the Great Green Garnich River. I think Ibbs made his home on that river by the way he talks about it. His eyes light up every time his imagination comes around the Calendie corner, and that’s when I know he’s home.
The vibrancy of his muttering gives way to an unexplainable aura of feeling. Ibbs has a hard time distinguishing individual items as such, and instead sees the colors of his world as either beginning or ending, all in a continuum with the next object. In fact, from talking with him, he doesn’t even really see things as objects. I tried to link his way of viewing the world as seeing it through the eyes of pure energy... But Ibbs doesn’t think too in depth on any one particular subject. And so we leave it at that.
I’m not sure why he chose to live with me now, especially since Ibbs land sounds so amazing; but we both like it just the same. I sometimes wonder what color he sees me as.
The vibrancy of his muttering gives way to an unexplainable aura of feeling. Ibbs has a hard time distinguishing individual items as such, and instead sees the colors of his world as either beginning or ending, all in a continuum with the next object. In fact, from talking with him, he doesn’t even really see things as objects. I tried to link his way of viewing the world as seeing it through the eyes of pure energy... But Ibbs doesn’t think too in depth on any one particular subject. And so we leave it at that.
I’m not sure why he chose to live with me now, especially since Ibbs land sounds so amazing; but we both like it just the same. I sometimes wonder what color he sees me as.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Wouldn't You Say?
Vultures can be always quite, never really unpleasant. However, they tend to have so much time in between scavenging that they make excellent philosophers.
“Men and their rules of fishing are truly odd, wouldn’t you say? They act so righteous on their morals of leaving the large ones to populate the ponds and the small ones to give them chances, when truly, they can’t catch the big ones and the small ones aren’t enough to feed them.
“Manipulation can be a confusing thing, wouldn’t you say? Some of us wear our feathers proudly. Others try to make their feathers the prettiest.”
“Men and their rules of fishing are truly odd, wouldn’t you say? They act so righteous on their morals of leaving the large ones to populate the ponds and the small ones to give them chances, when truly, they can’t catch the big ones and the small ones aren’t enough to feed them.
“Manipulation can be a confusing thing, wouldn’t you say? Some of us wear our feathers proudly. Others try to make their feathers the prettiest.”
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