Onward and upward

I’m sitting in an airport yet again waiting for my first of two flights which will take me back to Australia.  In a small part of my brain, I’m worrying if the flight will be delayed, if my baggage will come quickly, if I’ll make it through security once again in time for my second flight, if I’ll make it through customs with my double passport.

But the majority of my focus is directed towards these past 6 weeks.  Or rather, focusing on not focusing on it.  I can visualize the mass of emotions and memories this ‘US tour’ has both created and brought up.  I know I need to process this experience and yet I feel myself shying away from it.  The desire to put it all in a box to deal with later.

This whole trip has been about moving, catching up, shifting, shedding...

Crap, I’m still not ready to get a piece out about this trip.  I had this grand plan of some sort of post that would be eloquent and fun and thoughtful.  I’m just not ready to deal with all the emotions and memories. I am actually rather looking forward to arriving in Sydney simply so I can sit and not go anywhere. Take the time to decompress and process. I'll try and get something out afterwards.

For now I just want to thank everyone I was able to see. For the new friends I've made, the friendships I've renewed, and those that have strengthened. I'm so incredibly blessed to have each and everyone of you in my life. Thank you for making this trip so special and just what I needed. I love you all!!

Smores and cuddles with my little nephews

**All pictures are property of Kira Zebroski**

Just an update: I've made it safely from WI to LAX and about to board my final flight to Sydney. It was a close call with some passport issues. Like I wasn't allowed on the plane for a bit. But all is well. ::knock on wood:: It's never a dull moment with the Monkey!! ::grin::

Chocolate Cake for Breakfast

It’s taken me a long time to post this particular piece.  I’ve come back to it periodically, but I was just never sure how to end it.  A good friend of mine pointed out the lack of a resolution.  She (and I) often write things out because we don’t have a resolution for whatever is on our minds.  Blogs need to have a resolution, a closing argument if you will.  So maybe this is why I’ve never finished it.  How can I finish something that has no conclusion?  No happy ending?  No ending at all?  So end it with a question, she suggested.  And I will.

October 10, 2015

I was eating chocolate cake today and a guy in my group made a joke about eating chocolate cake for breakfast.  Did I understand the reference, he asked.  Of course!  I still remember watching the standup of Bill Cosby with my family and the bit about feeding chocolate cake to his kids for breakfast.  The next question was if I thought Bill Cosby was really a pedophile.  Immediate response was No, he was a rapist; all of the women he raped were adults.  The guy then wanted to know if I thought it was all a “conspiracy theory.”  I don’t believe so and it made me frustrated to hear people think that.  When you have more than 35 women come forward with their stories, at what point do you finally believe them?  Should it even take more than one?  And then to have Cosby admit that he gave women Quaaludes to make them more pliable for sex.  Really?  And you still doubt them??  He seemed surprised by these facts.

The conversation then lead into consent and the mentality of sex then versus now.  He felt today’s society was more “prudish.”  This was his example of why.

Back then, a woman would smile at a man across the bar and he would think she was interested.  He’d come over to talk, see if anything connected, and maybe go home together.  Nowadays, if a woman smiles and you come over to talk to her, she’ll just lose her shit at you.  Tell you how dare you come over and assume she was interested.  It can go into ruining her evening and just all out of proportion.

This comparison doesn’t work because the difference of then versus now was the social support to say “I’m not interested.”  There’s more communication about consent and when it doesn’t happen.  In both cases, the woman may not be interested but back then, it was much more difficult to speak up.  Women would just go along with it.  This is the issue with the women coming forward about Cosby raping them.  Rape wasn’t something you talked about years ago.  Even in my family history, I learned about this social mentality and the effects on those it happens to.  

Yes, but it’s getting blown all out of proportion, he argued.  You know how football players smack each other on the ass after touchdowns?  One day, one of the guys is going to claim sexual assault because one of his teammates smacked him on the ass.  We’re going to have a big, tall football player claiming sexual assault.  This would just look ludicrous!  And my response is Why?  Why is it crazy?  Because he’s supposed to be big and tough?  That sexual assault only happens to women?  Men, women, anyone can be sexually assaulted.  It doesn’t have to be just sex; it can be touching and making lewd comments.  We don’t hear about rape, outside of it happening to women, very often but it does still happen.  Consent is universal.  And socially acceptable behavior does not equal right behavior.   I don’t believe society is becoming more prudish.  Rather, I believe the conversation about consent and being supported to be vocal when consent isn’t given has changed.  

I found a book written in the 60’s called The Art of Kissing.  It was geared towards instruction for males on how to kiss and included a rather disturbing section on how to first kiss a girl.  As the evening was ending, you should get the girl on the couch and position it so she is on the end so as to better keep her from getting up once you make your intentions known.  (I swear I’m not making this up.  I’ve read this section to so many friends, I practically have it memorized)  Find a way to position your arm over the back of the couch and down to her shoulders.  Use the typical yawn move or adjust the seat cushion. (and now for the kicker)  When you try to kiss a girl and she tries to get up, don’t worry.  Simply guide her back down to the couch and make your intentions clear.  If she tries to get up and cries out, don’t worry.  If she tries to get up, cries out, and starts to scratch at you, then start to worry.  This girl is not to be trifled with.  (And not because she’s not interested in kissing or any other sexual activity, oh no!)  This kind of girl still thinks babies are a result of kissing and isn’t ready to kiss.  

::face palm::

Is it really a surprise then, with material like this circulating, that women didn’t come forward about being raped?  And something like this doesn’t just go away.  It sticks with you.  Along with all the self-doubt, wondering if you had it coming.  If you could have done something different to stop it.  To be able to share your story takes so much courage because even with all the progress we’ve made, people are still met with victim-blaming and doubt.

I remember the first time a guy touched me inappropriately.  I was 14 and walking with my friend at a teen night event at the local amusement park.  A guy walked up behind us, grabbing my ass and putting his hand down my friend’s shirt.  He tried to talk with us, but we ran off and found my brother.  We told the police and I believe they talked to the guy, but nothing went beyond that point.  I remember crying; I felt so dirty.  And I kept wondering if I’d somehow been asking for it.  Had my clothes been too revealing?  I had been wearing jeans and a spaghetti strap top with the American flag on it.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned how to “protect” myself.  Carrying around pepper spray.  Putting keys between my fingers to use as a weapon when walking to my car.  Knowing that a pair of heels can be scraped down the shin if I get grabbed from behind.  Not making eye contact or in any way acknowledging catcalls or whistles.  Understanding that walking away is sometimes better when someone tries to cop a feel.  Laughing and smiling until I can get away because it’s safer than straight up saying No.  Pretending to have a boyfriend because it’s the only way some will back off.

Sometimes I stop and think Why did I need to learn these things?  How did I learn them?  Who taught me?  From a self defense class in Girl Scouts.  From a friend’s boyfriend who didn’t like the neighborhood I was living in.  From conversations with other women.  From social media.  From people-watching.  From personal experience.  And each of these lessons came with a price.

A few months ago I learned another lesson.  I free wrote a short paragraph afterwards and this is what came out.

A lot of times I let it brush off with the comments, but we'd as a group (several older gentlemen....or at least I thought they were) got into talking about how women are treated.  And how they should be given respect but aren't always treated as such.  And it was a shame and how can things change?  And then later one whispered how he had just one thing he'd like to know.  "how I tasted and if he'd get a chance."  He's married and traveling with his wife and a daughter a little younger than me.  And when another guy arrived (about my age) who was drunk and getting a bit belligerent, I saw them talking together.  I thought the older man was trying to calm the young one down.  Instead I heard him trying to coach the guy on how to get with me.  The guy also has a girlfriend.  A wonderful gal who later showed up looking for him because he'd just disappeared from their bungalow.  Anyway, hearing the older guy tell him things like "if you don't want to get with her, then I will." and "just look at her, you know what that's for?"  I just felt so dirty.  Called them out on it after everyone had left and it didn't perturb them at all.  Told them I could hear them and that I wasn't a piece of meat and they both have their partners waiting for them back at their rooms.  So torn with wanting to rip into them but they're guests here and while it doesn't excuse the behavior, I didn’t know if I could count on the support of my boss and not wanting to make a scene.  Realizing I wish I could have torn them a new one but calmly and I was just so hurt and angry.

My first year at Burning Man, there was an art installation called Truth is Beauty by Marco Cochrane.  It was this beautiful statue of a woman arching her back.  Around the base of the statue (she was more than 50 feet tall) was the question “What would the world be like if all women were safe?” written in many different languages.  There was a podium in front with a book of blank pages.  People had written their thoughts on the piece and the message it gave.  Me, I just sat on the Playa dust and stared up at her or at the foot of her, well...feet and watched her body change to different colors in the darkness.  What WOULD the world be like if all women were safe?  If we felt safe and confident enough to walk down a street with our heads held high but not surrounded by ice in our every step?  If we could dress however we wanted simply because it makes us feel beautiful and not second guessing if others will read it as an open invitation.   If we could just be present at any given moment and not constantly monitoring if the surroundings are safe, if the men around us could overpower us, if our words or actions could be misconstrued, if anyone would help should we need it.  If we as women could own into our power and not feel the need to stifle parts of ourselves because they are viewed as too forward, too unfeminine, too strong, just Too.

Photo Property of Kira Zebroski

What would the world be like if all women were safe?

And how do we make that happen?

And here are some links to articles I've found very helpful in stimulating a conversation:

Next Time Someone Says Women are Victims of Harassment, Show Them This

The Thing All Women Do That You Don't Know About

Deep Breaths

As I sit here typing this post, finishing my tea, and enjoying wonderful company, I just experienced a moment of gratefulness.  Grateful to be on this island.  Grateful to be a part of this school.  Grateful to be in this familial community where I can process and fully be in the moment with my emotions.

Life is always full of ups and downs and this period in my life is no exception.  I've hit a particularly rough patch, but the universe has a way of helping you be in the right conditions to deal with it (the caveat of course being that you are willing to access those resources).  I know if I'd been in the default world, I would have bottled everything up and tucked it away with the intent of dealing with it later...if at all.  And it would have fermented and festered until one day the pressure would grow too great and it would explode, burning all those around me with it's acidity.

But luckily I'm NOT in the default world.  Or rather, my default world has become a tropical island with people all around me actively striving to heal and open themselves up to the present moment.  To teach others to do the same.  Including me.  I'm learning how to be open to the emotions my body wants to feel right now.  Cleanse.  Reconnect.  Be at peace.  I can't say the process is pretty but in those moments I truly give myself over to the experience, there is beauty in the upheaval.

But why write about all this right now?  Well, I had one of those messy, soul-cleansing experiences tonight and with all the rawness and vulnerability that went along with it, I need to process and I want to share this with others i.e. you all.

I had a good friend at Burning Man introduce me to the importance of deep breathing.  Accessing the full range of our breath both on the exhale and the inhale.  I learned that when I access this extra portion of my lungs, I burp.  It became a bit of a running joke but also an indication of when I'd hit a particularly deep moment and released myself fully into an experience.  Arriving onto Koh Phangan and taking some of the workshops here, I was able to continue my work on the deep breath.

But lately I haven't been able to access that extra portion.  In fact, I've felt a massive blockage to a large portion of my breath.  And I've been fighting with both the reasons behind this blockage and my body's response to this blockage.  I've felt disconnected from my body in about every way possible, something I haven't experienced this fully since my college days.  And all these wonderful workshops I'd been participating in seemed to only further point out my failure to reach that breath and instead express emotions I didn't want to feel.  I was out of my body and in my head, the exact opposite of where I needed to be.  To say I was frustrated would be a gross understatement.  I wanted to be better, and I wanted to be better NOW!

After talking with a mentor about meditation and some of the frustrations I'd been feeling, it was decided I would take all the classes specifically involving deep breathing.  And I found myself in the sudarsan kryia class aka the toilet paper class.  It was uncomfortable.  It was awkward.  And there were moments I didn't think I could take another breath.  But as the chanting continued and our teacher pushed us to give it our all ("if not now, when?!), I felt something inside my chest loosen.  And what happened?  I felt these massive bubbles of air rise up out of my chest.  I burped!  I don't know if those around me heard and I can't say that I really cared.  I was so grateful in that moment to be accessing the deep breaths I'd missed so dearly.  I'd been given the tools, assistance, and push to let my body experience all the messy, ugly, unwanted emotions it needed to feeling.  And in doing so, I was more ME than I'd been recently.

As the class came to a close, I was inclined to retreat into myself and process this experience on my own.  Lick my clean but open wounds in private.  But people were open and inviting to continue our connection and I was slowly coaxed out of my protective shell.  I was given the encouragement to continue that vulnerability with safe people.  And this is how I found myself drinking wonderful tea, sharing music that touches the soul, and energy that warms the heart.  I can't access that extra portion of my breath right now but I find I'm not as worried.  It will come with time, love, and patience.

I am truly grateful for all that has been brought into my life.  The good and the bad.  The beautiful and the ugly.  I'm truly reminded how life takes us on a path of lessons.  The question is whether we are willing to learn what it can teach us?

Photo property of Kira Zebroski

Friendships and moving

As I’m getting ready to leave Rochester, it occurred to me suddenly.  How am I going to leave all these people?  I know that when moving, it means leaving things behind but I’ve been so focused on my destination, I've pushed this part of the process aside.  I think it has also been a protective action, denial of what needs to happen.  I've moved around so much, that leaving things, people, and places behind has just always been a part of life.  But this is different.  This time I’m leaving as an adult, with invested time and energy into relationships that I want to last forever.  And I’m terrified.  Terrified I’ll never see them again, that I’ll lose touch, that I’ll miss these important moments in their lives and they in mine.

I've been putting this feeling aside and I didn't even realize it.  In this final week of preparing to leave, I've felt this anxiety and intense overwhelming ENERGY.  And I thought the main reason for it was just the stress of trying to get everything done.  Tying up loose ends.  But as I start to see people for what may be the last time in the foreseeable future, I’m feeling this dam break.  I've built this protective wall around my emotions about leaving my people, my lifeblood, and it’s starting to crumble.  

It’s funny, my friends and I joked that I’m not allowed to really drink during my going away party because I’ll probably end up a blubbering mess.  And I’d laugh and we’d all heartily agree.  But the sobering fact is, I need to deal with this emotion, process and share with those I hold dear.  Tell them,

“I am seriously going to miss you.  You have made this huge impact in my life that even I may not fully comprehend.  There is a part of my heart that I’m leaving with you.  Please take good care of it and help stay in touch so I know it’s well cared for.  And I will try my damnedest to do the same for you.  Know that you are with me, always.  I love you."

And these thoughts aren't just for those I’m leaving in Rochester, but all those who've touched my life and made me better for it.  Whether you’re in Pittsburgh, Florida, NYC, Seattle, Ohio, or already oceans away, I will truly miss you and hope our paths will cross soon and often.