A road trip with postaday

I've had quite a few awesome road trips. I guess I'll have to pick the best... Hands down, Dad wins.

When I was little we'd go for milkshakes and drive around in the countryside following the "monster tracks" which were really tar patches on the roads. It was about as awesome as it could possibly get. The grownup version of the same thing involves either coffee or hot chocolate, and is less about monsters and more about the splendor of "God's Country," new road construction, and excellent conversation.

Dad and I also once went on a bear-spotting expedition just outside of... I think just outside of Jackson Hole, Wyoming. (My place memory is fuzzy - I was pretty young at the time). We drove down a tiny gravel road that became a tiny path with 2 distinct tire tracks, lined by willows and berry bushes on either side - prime bear spotting territory and with a convertible, absolutely nowhere to hide and nowhere to go. Mum stayed at the hotel and read by the swimming pool in the sunshine - Mum wasn't ever really into bear spotting in such an up close and personal way. Of course, we didn't actually see any bears. However, the countryside was breathtaking which is what mattered.

When Dad and I were in Mexico we took a drive from Los Cabos up to La Paz. We didn't stick around long in La Paz - we were more concerned by the high number of burned out vehicles along the highway and figured we'd be safer going home before dark! The other thing we kept count of on the side of the road were dead animals, the most gruesome being a dead horse that had been unfortunate enough to have its guts eaten by flies - the inside of the horse was made up of a mass of hungry flies and maggots, while the outside still looked like horse. We're still saving that travel story for a dinner party with any guest who we'd like to frighten away....

Dad and I also went for some pretty incredible drives on the big island of Hawai'i. The big island has some absolutely huge ranches, as well as some of the best prime rib in the world. The story goes (and I think I looked it up once for verification) that the nice folks in Hawai'i actually studied the beef farming methods used in Alberta (grain fed) because Alberta is known around the world for producing the tastiest beef. After many nights of prime rib with a side of king crab legs in Hawai'i, I believe it.

Hawai'i was full of other fantastic sights too - waterfalls, beaches, old black lava flows that stretched all the way from the top of the mountain to the sea. My favourite beach was the black (volcanic) sand beach - I had to keep my sandals on because the sand was quite hot. I seem to remember it either was or was near a sea turtle sanctuary. I remember standing at the edge of the water as small waves broke on the rocks, watching the turtles scrambling over the rocks in the water. Beautiful creatures.

We also drove up through Volcanoes National Park - and what a sight that was! There were steam vents venting toxic gasses along the road (random openings in the earth where the gasses had forced their way out). We also stood and looked out over the crater of an active volcano for a while, until Dad told me to turn around. What did we see? A SNOW COVERED MOUNTAIN! In Hawai'i!!! Just across from a steaming, bubbling volcano!!!

The most recent road trip Dad and I did was around San Francisco. He drove down the scenic highway with its twists and turns, along the coastline. We saw vinyards (no tours though, we're just not like that) and ocean and eucalyptus trees. I also took some time to go through a pretty ancient cathedral. On our last day in the San Francisco area, we were driving around, killing time until our flight. We decided to take random exits off the freeway for funsies. (This is what we do for fun, really.) The first place we were at was a cross between parkland and office buildings that looked like they had some sort of scientific function. The area was deserted, so we sat beside a small, probably man-made lake and relaxed for a bit. The next exit we took... was interesting. The first business we drove by had bars on the window and a few cop cars in front. People were being arrested. Further down the street we were greeted by the locals with a very authentic Black Power salute. We were a bit nervous at that point, but we still had the windows down, Dad had one arm resting on his door and was driving nice and slow, just like he owned the place. We did make it out alive to get to the airport.

San Francisco was a make-up trip. The original plan had been to fly to Dublin, Ireland, rent a car, and go from village to village in search of the family castle which should be somewhere in County Cork (formerly County Barrett), all the while making frequent stops (but not so frequent as to incapacitate the driver) to sample the local Guiness. Can you even begin to imagine what a riot that would be??? I suppose now that Dad and I both have spouses, even when his foot recovers we might have a bit more pomp and circumstance to deal with if we were to attempt the trip. I want to do it... but I have to be perfectly clear: the only person on earth I want to do it with is my Dad.

cocoons

What causes us to cocoon ourselves?

Death
trauma
grief
loss
abuse
feeling like we don't have a voice
winter
seasons
seasons as they're reflected in our lives
the aging process (lifespan?)

changes in our theologies
changes in general
new technologies
breakdowns of communication
lack of multi-generational understanding

environmental toxins
noise pollution
war
profanity
(but not four letter word profanity)
a lack of understanding
among tribes of humans

why?????

Sometimes we cocoon when life calls upon us to help somebody dear to us with a major transition. This is usually a caregiving role... but it can be the role of friend after a calamity too.

finding our voices

I've run across this topic quite a bit recently
I didn't think it was that big of a deal
apparently I'm wrong.

Do I have a voice?

I do.

But is it heard?

I guess it can be, when needed.

But would I want it heard more?

I'm not sure. There's so much of that, out there that I'm not sure.

I don't have a penis
or a master's degree
but I am turning a small profit.

Friday was Jen's stilletto day at the office where I used to work.
I thought it was hilarious that an ankle length skirt and stillettos made half of the management team lose his ability to speak. I wasn't wearing anything revealing, or form fitting. Just the shoes.
And you should've seen the looks on the faces of the other ladies in the office, the others doing my job. But why's it have to be like that?

I have definitely created a cocoon. I ran from that place so fast it made their heads spin.

Slowly I am finding my voice again.

My authenticity.

Friday should be stilletto day, regardless of whether we work alone at home or in an office. I say we reclaim Fridays as dress up for work days, and not be afraid to say to someone's face... dude, my eyes are up here.

For me, coming out of my cocoon is a lot about reclaiming the feminine divine in my life. I'm not talking about the Goddess, Heavenly Mother, or even necessarily Mary. I'm talking about natural cycles, paying attention to the moon, realizing that everything is interconnected, in summer loving me some garden and dirt, and in winter loving me some snow. My feminine divine is inside of me. I can't explain it at all, but I know it is there.

I am also thinking about trance dance as performance art, for about 6 or 7 minutes, then slowly fusing it with a structured improv piece involving an opening cocoon. I like the idea of starting with the trance dance as performance - start us with blindfolds, all awkward and strange. Really, it is no different than real life; the audience is our mirror. Let us dance unscripted with blindfolds. Then gently switch the music. Let us reawaken. Let us show our vulnerability. Let us come together to express the gifts we have received from allowing ourselves to be vulnerable. And let us share that with an audience who will have moved from being uncomfortable to feeling a power shift in the ambiance - a power shift toward being our authentic selves.

good morning Postaday.

Good morning Jen.

I can't remember if I've ever lied about my age. I don't think so. I might've gotten it wrong a few times and had to do the math, but I am pretty certain I've never actually lied about it. I'm not sure there would be a point to it. My husband is still convinced that I am 27 (but I think he got the memo about it really being 30) and Dad usually uses my Chinese age (31) but otherwise I think most of my family even doesn't try to confuse me on the subject.

Oh postaday. I don't feel particularly motivated today.

What would I tell myself 10 years ago if I only had 5 minutes? That my world is what I make it - if I want something, I can make it happen. Also, saying no is my friend. Demanding better treatment isn't out of the scope of my existence. That'd be about it.

What part of life confuses me the most? That's easy - religion. I'm quite sure I could believe almost anything but I get a little angry when anyone tries to tell me how to live my life or how to behave. I believe that my relationship with the divine is very personal - it's not a 3-way. I get easily confused by attempts from any religious authorities to control any part of my life, my family's life, or the lives of others, especially children. I don't understand the necessity. If what we are all being taught is real, is true, then all of the coercions wouldn't be necessary to retain us as believers. If anyone can show me a religion that doesn't have some sort of control structure, I'd probably join it. Except for that other thing. Religions confuse me because the ones I've played with don't seem to have the foggiest clue about what's spiritual and what isn't. Spiritual is a subjective perception. There's a scientist who has figured out that it's all in the brain, and maybe he's even figured out where in the brain. But it definitely isn't found in an organizational structure telling me I must donate X% of my income to be worthy or volunteer my time in order to be considered for membership in the Kingdom. If I am able to find something spiritual in either of those, well, it's not impossible. But I have to tell you, if I give from my heart it is much more meaningful to me than if I am giving in a structured way. I don't find spirituality often in reading the scriptures - anyone's scriptures. I do sometimes. But it's rare. I'm much more likely to find divine inspiration and spirituality in nature. I love walking in nature. Biking in nature. Rolling around in nature. Taking pictures of nature. That's where my God lives - in a great big garden. I find communion with plants and animals spiritual. Deeply so. I love digging in the dirt. I think that's the biggest reason why I keep worms for composting in my basement - and start seeds in February - so that I have something in the dirt to look after. I love the weather too - I find spirituality in storms, all kinds of storms. The day my latest religious fling decided to give me a swimming lesson, I went for a walk before it started to rain. The wind was furious and the clouds were massive and roiling. I interpreted this as an obvious approval of my decision to belong to a religion with a name, because my God knows that I love storms. (See how subjective all this is?) I also find deep spirituality and communion with fellow humans in music and dance. I find it easy to get trapped in the circle of music/dance as a spiritual pastime. This is one of the reasons why I went out of my way for my birthday this year to do a trance dance with my mum. Trance dance is phenomenal. You dance in a room of people with a blindfold on for just over an hour. The music is such that it transports your mind and your body somewhere else. Your body moves on a soul level and your mind operates on a soul level. It is absolutely beautiful. At some point in all of this, including my attempts to hold talking circles on the new moon that revolve around natural cycles, someone's going to ask me if I'm a pagan. Maybe. Someone else might accuse me of being a witch. Maybe. My God gave me these cycles and elements. S/he gave me these fantastic spiritual outlets. I have yet to find a religion willing to accept that part of me. But I also know that I can't bend over backwards to authority without spiritual fulfillment. Rules are man made. Authority is ultimately decided by man - we can choose to believe the divine was involved if it makes us feel better, but we can't prove it. But the things we know as spiritual are things that can happen independently of authority, independent of circumstance or beliefs. Without that as a focal grounding point, religion simply loses me. I am baffled by the lack of questioning of the rules. I am baffled by the lack of objective thinking of the membership. And I'm baffled by the lack of encouragement toward personal relationships with the divine. I'll repeat myself before calling it a day: My relationship with the divine is NOT a 3-way. I do not need the confines of religion. They piss me off. In order for this to work, it has to be a give and take relationship. Also, I need for my worthiness to not be judged by men. Or women. Who are we to judge each other if it's common knowledge that Judgment Day exists for that purpose? My worthiness is not determined by how much money I give to the church, how frequently I show up for services, or whether or not I contribute to building the Kingdom on earth. My personal worthiness is an intimate matter between myself and my God.

End of story.

postaday catchup sort of

Dear Postaday,

Since your topics mostly suck, I'm giving up on you. Why should I bother with a 2 line response to a lame topic? I think maybe every week or 2 I will catch up on you, just like a disinterested lover. How does that sound? Oh, yeah, of course I missed you. Gee whiz. What did you think I meant by that?

Love,

Jen

Growed-ups

I woke up this morning with a wonderful memory. I don't know how old I was, but the answer is not very. It was in the late 80s, I know that much. I was hanging out with my best friend, Joanne. I'm going to guess that it was either a rainy day or a snowy day because we were inside at her house, not outdoors. We were sitting at the kitchen table with her mum, on the bench seat. I have no idea what colour the bench seat was. Maybe yellow? Or maybe it was before yellow. I think there was a time before the kitchen was yellow, wasn't there? Either way, we were eating Joanne's mum's homemade gingersnaps and to my great delight, Mrs. Humphrey was letting us dip our cookies in her tea. This was also the day that I learned what tea was - nobody in my family really drank tea when I was growing up. I'd never seen it before.

Last night I made my own gingersnaps for the first time, and that memory came back to me. It was a thoroughly pleasant experience. My cookies don't look or taste like Joanne's mum's cookies, but the basic idea is the same.

The purpose of this message is to thank some people - specifically the growed-ups who had an influence on who I've grown up to be. Thanks, Jan and Terry Humphrey, for letting me do some of my growing up at your house, and for showing me another example of what marriage and family could look like. I appreciate it.