I will not be making any New Year’s resolutions. I gave up on that a few years ago because it made me even crazier than I already felt. The psychic equivalent of trying to squeeze my size 12 hips into size 8 skinny jeans. I don’t do that in real life, I have no illusions about my size 12-ness and I abhor skinny jeans. So why do it to my already overworked, overwrought, oversensitive psyche?
There is something about this time of year though that makes millions of people feel the need to magnify their dissatisfaction with themselves and their lives and feel the need to fix it. All because of a date on a calendar. A date that is merely a number, an attempt to mark the passing of time which if you think about it, is like marking the sky with a grid. Marking all of space with a metal grid. You might as well try and lasso a cloud or keep a crocodile as a pet.
I know it’s practical – to have calendars and diaries and planners. But you can also take things too far. I've tried not to be judgmental about this. I mean, I know some people need to be shouted at and demoralised so that they can do what they want to do or need to do. But I can't help it. Do you even know anyone who has ever stuck to their resolutions or talk about them or remember them or give a flying monkey's testicle about them past January? Actually, it gives me hope that people don't stick to those resolutions. It gives me hope that there is something in our human natures that will not bend to something imposed upon it so unnaturally.
So the mocking continues.
Enter reverb10. Now that it is nearly over, I can safely say that it has confirmed my suspicions and fears. It really was as insipid and facile as it seemed. If I had felt uncomfortable with New Year’s Resolutions before, having seeing the Future Tools that the team had to offer, I now see them as practically toxic. Not only have they benevolently offered us the tool of How To Create Your Personal Manifesto – a process that is more lengthy and complicated than a mortgage application (honestly – who has the TIME to dick around like that?) to ‘tools’ to help you MANAGE your New Year’s Resolutions. Those pesky things! Who knew they could become so unruly, so willful? Maybe it’s just the witch (or the Darkness, if you prefer) in me that can’t help but see all of this as terribly desperate and controlling. Trying to nail down every ounce of uncertainty in life, every glimmer of the unknown and bring it into obedient submission. Stamp on those dangerous sparks before they catch and become an inferno. I understand something of that because my Inner Control Freak is freakin’ strong and smug. But it doesn't stay smug for long, because life has a way of reminding us that it is not a straight line to be drawn with a ruler.
If some of this resonates with you but you still feel a need to take something with you into the New Year, then take this:
In some countries, the year isn’t actually 2010 on the verge of becoming 2011. In Thailand for instance, it is the year 2553. And their New Year begins in April.
“There is always something beyond what we know.” – Ernesto Neto (Brazilian artist)
"The wind will carry us..." Noir Désir – Le Vent Nous Portera (This is a link to a song on Spotify)
If you still feel the urge to make a list or create a solid shape out of those filaments of uncertainty, then at least try to go easy on yourself. Ditch the manifesto and write a moanifesto instead. Here’s mine:
A Moanifesto
Out of respect and awe for the Unknown and for the vastness and richness that is life,
-I will not waste time trying to lose weight or wondering whether I should give up bacon or getting myself into an exercise regime. Rather, I will enjoy my food and enjoy yoga because it makes me feel good and not because it is good for me.
-I will not endeavour to make any pragmatic or sensible decisions about “my future”. It follows that I will NOT at any time sit down to think about where I want to be in five years time. Or consider a job because it offers a pension scheme. Or try to improve myself in any way that would make a life coach or wellness consultant proud or happy. If I attempt any such moves, I authorise the minions of the Unknown to bitch-slap me.
-I WILL rant and use bad language.
-I will continue to start projects and do most things in a haphazard manner. I will become the epitomy of doing things willy-nilly.
-I will waste time.
-I will watch too much TV.
-I will stage wrestling matches (and pick alleyway fist fights) with my inner control freak and sometimes, I will win.
-I will try my damndest to annoy the fuck out of guilt so it leaves me the hell alone.
-I will not make any rules.
-I reserve the right to break the rules.
Now, don't make the mistake of trying to stay up till midnight to see in the New Year. It's already happened in some parts of the world anyway, so you're too late. Just go to bed, or get drunk or stoned and forget that one second after midnight, you are suddenly supposed to be a whole new person living a whole new life. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Showing posts with label regurg10. Show all posts
Showing posts with label regurg10. Show all posts
Friday, December 31, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
reverb10: Body Integration (this prompt was truly a gift...thank you)
Body Integration.
This year, when did you feel the most integrated with your body? Did you have a moment where there wasn’t mind and body, but simply a cohesive YOU, alive and present?
(Prompt Author: Patrick Reynolds)
~
I knew it. All these years I’ve had a suspicion that Mrs Koumas was hiding something. Yeah, she got us to dissect frogs and stick our fingers inside pig’s hearts, but I always knew there was something she was keeping from us, something she’d left off the curriculum. At the time, I thought it had something to do with the breeziness with which we covered the chapter on sexual organs. But now I know the truth. And now, so many things are starting to make sense.
Like, why my brain keeps insisting on walking three paces ahead of me, or why my tongue keeps diving in to other people’s lunches, or waking up to find my lungs spattered on the ceiling and the bedclothes (pulmonary alveoli are a bitch to get out of the sheets), and dragging my torso down the stairs in the mornings to find my legs, dead on the sofa, where they’d snuck off to watch bad TV in the middle of the night. And don't even get me started on my backbone.
Why didn’t anyone ever tell us of the need to integrate? Were they worried we wouldn't have the guts to do it? Well, it’s a gross oversight. It should be taught in all schools, everywhere, the earlier the better. Otherwise, it is left to the few earnest and caring souls, or to use the proper term, wellness consultants, like Patrick Reynolds, to spread the word. Thank you Patrick, for enlightening me. I mean, I didn’t even know how close I’d been to NOT BEING ALIVE.
I don’t know about you, but the trickiest bit for me is keeping track of all the different PARTS that need integrating. So for the past 24 minutes, I’ve been working strenuously at finding a way to keep me nice and cohesive. I can tell you straight off that superglue doesn’t work. It made me a bit too cohesive with my clothing and furniture and toilet paper. (Even chanting at the same time didn't help.) Cello tape is also ineffective. I just kept attracting dust and my limbs kept seeing it as a challenge to break free. The secret, I happily discovered, is to use the power of your mind to generate the power of distraction. What you have to do is find something for that unruly disintegrating body of yours to do! And nothing says integration like the power of dance. (Stay with me, it's for your own good.)
Now, you might find it hard to keep up, but with a little bit of practice, I am sure you can do it. We can do this together. If you have any children in the house, I advise you to get them involved too. It’s for their own good. Ok ready? Just let the words into your mind and your body will soon follow. Here we go...
One, two, three…all together now…
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Doin' the skeleton dance.
The foot bone's connected to the leg bone.
The leg bone's connected to the knee bone.
The knee bone's connected to the thigh bone.
Doin' the skeleton dance.
The thigh bone's connected to the hip bone.
The hip bone's connected to the backbone.
The backbone's connected to the neck bone.
Doin' the skeleton dance.
Shake your hands to the left.
Shake your hands to the right.
Put your hands in the air.
Put your hands out of sight!
Shake your hands to the left.
Shake your hands to the right.
Put your hands in the air.
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle.......wiggle your knees.
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Doin' the skeleton dance.
For those of you requiring visual instruction, a wonderful video can be found on youtube here.
Now, you might get peculiar looks when practicing integration in public places. Workplace practice could be especially problematic, unless you are an elementary or primary school teacher. But remain true. Be a strong and radiant ambassador for integration and make the world a better place. All the doubters will thank you in the end.
I just have one more thing to say about today’s prompt and the photo that accompanied it (which for those of you who don’t get the emailed prompts had the added benefit of a shirtless Patrick Reynolds staring off into the distance in a gaze reminiscent of Christ bearing the world’s burden on his big strong shoulders. Perhaps that is why his shoulders were bare. Or maybe he's just wondering where the bottom half of his body has gotten to. I’d love to share the photo but I fear I would be infringing copyright law. Of course Jesus doesn’t seem to mind having his image plastered all over the place, now there’s a generous bloke, but one needs to be more careful with modern personages in this age of the media, especially with anyone honoured with the suffix consultant). Anyway, what I wanted to say was this:
Sam Davidson, all is forgiven.
This year, when did you feel the most integrated with your body? Did you have a moment where there wasn’t mind and body, but simply a cohesive YOU, alive and present?
(Prompt Author: Patrick Reynolds)
~
I knew it. All these years I’ve had a suspicion that Mrs Koumas was hiding something. Yeah, she got us to dissect frogs and stick our fingers inside pig’s hearts, but I always knew there was something she was keeping from us, something she’d left off the curriculum. At the time, I thought it had something to do with the breeziness with which we covered the chapter on sexual organs. But now I know the truth. And now, so many things are starting to make sense.
Like, why my brain keeps insisting on walking three paces ahead of me, or why my tongue keeps diving in to other people’s lunches, or waking up to find my lungs spattered on the ceiling and the bedclothes (pulmonary alveoli are a bitch to get out of the sheets), and dragging my torso down the stairs in the mornings to find my legs, dead on the sofa, where they’d snuck off to watch bad TV in the middle of the night. And don't even get me started on my backbone.
Why didn’t anyone ever tell us of the need to integrate? Were they worried we wouldn't have the guts to do it? Well, it’s a gross oversight. It should be taught in all schools, everywhere, the earlier the better. Otherwise, it is left to the few earnest and caring souls, or to use the proper term, wellness consultants, like Patrick Reynolds, to spread the word. Thank you Patrick, for enlightening me. I mean, I didn’t even know how close I’d been to NOT BEING ALIVE.
I don’t know about you, but the trickiest bit for me is keeping track of all the different PARTS that need integrating. So for the past 24 minutes, I’ve been working strenuously at finding a way to keep me nice and cohesive. I can tell you straight off that superglue doesn’t work. It made me a bit too cohesive with my clothing and furniture and toilet paper. (Even chanting at the same time didn't help.) Cello tape is also ineffective. I just kept attracting dust and my limbs kept seeing it as a challenge to break free. The secret, I happily discovered, is to use the power of your mind to generate the power of distraction. What you have to do is find something for that unruly disintegrating body of yours to do! And nothing says integration like the power of dance. (Stay with me, it's for your own good.)
Now, you might find it hard to keep up, but with a little bit of practice, I am sure you can do it. We can do this together. If you have any children in the house, I advise you to get them involved too. It’s for their own good. Ok ready? Just let the words into your mind and your body will soon follow. Here we go...
One, two, three…all together now…
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Doin' the skeleton dance.
The foot bone's connected to the leg bone.
The leg bone's connected to the knee bone.
The knee bone's connected to the thigh bone.
Doin' the skeleton dance.
The thigh bone's connected to the hip bone.
The hip bone's connected to the backbone.
The backbone's connected to the neck bone.
Doin' the skeleton dance.
Shake your hands to the left.
Shake your hands to the right.
Put your hands in the air.
Put your hands out of sight!
Shake your hands to the left.
Shake your hands to the right.
Put your hands in the air.
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle.......wiggle your knees.
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Dem bones, dem bones, dem dancing bones.
Doin' the skeleton dance.
For those of you requiring visual instruction, a wonderful video can be found on youtube here.
Now, you might get peculiar looks when practicing integration in public places. Workplace practice could be especially problematic, unless you are an elementary or primary school teacher. But remain true. Be a strong and radiant ambassador for integration and make the world a better place. All the doubters will thank you in the end.
I just have one more thing to say about today’s prompt and the photo that accompanied it (which for those of you who don’t get the emailed prompts had the added benefit of a shirtless Patrick Reynolds staring off into the distance in a gaze reminiscent of Christ bearing the world’s burden on his big strong shoulders. Perhaps that is why his shoulders were bare. Or maybe he's just wondering where the bottom half of his body has gotten to. I’d love to share the photo but I fear I would be infringing copyright law. Of course Jesus doesn’t seem to mind having his image plastered all over the place, now there’s a generous bloke, but one needs to be more careful with modern personages in this age of the media, especially with anyone honoured with the suffix consultant). Anyway, what I wanted to say was this:
Sam Davidson, all is forgiven.
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