Sobering

We saw a dear friend for the first time in years tonight. He's splitting with his wife. Listening to him sent chills everywhere.

Today's writing

It’s been a long time in coming. You didn’t see it. I know you didn’t. If you had, you would have talked to me about it. Right?

Not right. Fact was, Ruth had smelled it on them for some time. If you don’t think an unhappy couple has a smell, try clearing out your nasal passages. It's like rotting hot dogs and lost hope, a poor combination any way you look at it.

Why?

Why do we think, with every person we're scared of losing, that there will never be another?

Sign up for my Costa Rica course!

Taking place Jan 30-Feb. 12, 2020. All the details are here!

Conference coverage

I'm in the city covering the IREM Global Summit for GlobeSt.com. When I got up super early this morning to get ready, I was like -- whoa! I only have to get myself ready? Adam will totally handle Baz?

It was like a whole new world.

Profiled Jered's Pottery

Jered and Sarah are good friends, so it was a special pleasure to write this.

Early-morning Daily OM

Opening ourselves to willingness may feel like we are surrendering or abandoning all that we believed. But at the same time it is an act of power and courage because it is a conscious choice we make about how to apply our personal will. Being willing is to be in a state of willing something into creation. It is at once allowing ourselves to be while also choosing to direct our energy in a focused way. It is being and doing from a place of openness, where we can work with the universe rather than resist it. It is an open hand rather than one that is clenched into a fist. When we make a step toward willingness, we open ourselves to truth, possibility, and the movement of the wise universe in and through our lives.

Joy at Bravo Farms

Our wedding recessional

As seen on Facebook

The greatest reminder is the voice within you.

Jim Avett on craft

It's easy to write a murder song. All you've got to do is get somebody to tell you what happened and then make their words rhyme. And if you don't got enough words, get somebody else to tell you what happened and use that. And all you gotta do is add in a minor chord. You got it.

Jim Avett house concert in Visalia

Adam and I first saw Jim Avett in Portland. The guy is amazing. No wonder his sons went on to become hitmakers. But this guy is my favorite.

Later we saw him in San Francisco. Today I randomly looked up his tour schedule -- and what do you know, house concerts in the Bay Area and beyond. So Baz and I are going down to 93-degree Visalia on Sunday, seeing the concert, eating unlimited tacos, staying overnight. Why the hell not? Watch this video and tell me this guy ain't worth it.

Just posted on Facebook

Every step you take away from the wrong thing leads you to something better. I fiercely believe that.

Random theory

I was never super youthful or stunning. Somehow I think I'm making up for it on the other end. That's not to say I'm a stunner now either, but I'm aging a hell of a lot better than what I'm seeing out there.

Blah

I haven't been feeling well for days. Fortunately Baz is back in school after the Great Hand, Foot, and Mouth Debacle of 2019, so maybe I'll go home and take a nap.

The last few days have been rough. I'm trying to figure out why and how to make it better. Maybe a nap is just what I need.

RIP Ric Ocasek

"Drive" - The Cars

Who's gonna tell you when
It's too late,
Who's gonna tell you things,
Aren't so great.

You can't go on, thinkin',
Nothings' wrong, but bye,
Who's gonna drive you home,
Tonight.?

Who's gonna pick you up,
When you fall?
Who's gonna hang it up,
When you call?

Who's gonna pay attention,
To your dreams?
And who's gonna plug their ears
When you scream?

You can't go on, thinkin'
Nothings wrong, but bye,
(who's gonna drive you)
(who's gonna drive you)
Who's gonna drive you home, tonight?
(who's gonna drive you home)

Who's gonna hold you down,
When you shake?
Who's gonna come around,
When you break?

You can't go on, thinkin',
Nothin's wrong, but bye,
(Who's gonna drive you)
(who's gonna drive you)
Who's gonna drive you home, tonight?
(who's gonna drive you home)

Oh, you know you can't go on, thinkin',
Nothin's wrong,
(Who's gonna drive you)
(Who's gonna drive you home)
Who's gonna drive you home, tonight?

Best friends

Realization

You can't wait around for a person to meet your needs. Ultimately you have to decide whether they will or they will not. This particularly extends to friends. When they have hurt you over and over, or ignored the fact that you too have needs or a life, that things go on for you and it's not just about them, that's the time to cut it and look back as little as possible.

Writing at The Pub

So, Carol Vulture said. How do you think everything is going?

No good conversation started out this way.

I’m happy. Gary jumped right in. I think he’s made great progress this year. He’s starting to do art, he’s loving the music lessons –

And he’s getting into fights.

Talk about a mic drop. Lennon getting into fights? Ruth couldn’t see it. Sure, he threw some fits in front of them, every so often batting at them with his little fists, but they always acted differently at home than at school.

Lennon getting into fights? No, she couldn’t see it.

With who? Her voice reminded her of when she was 12, on the school bus, tentative. Is it okay if I sit here? No one ever said no – she was far from popular, but she was invisible enough to make it all right – but if they had, she would rather ride on the tailpipe than get into a confrontation. Now, more than three decades gone, she had returned to that scared preadolescent, the one who just wanted to hunch her shoulders and blend into the wallpaper.

Everyone. Even Marlow.

Marlow? That was his buddy. They called her his girlfriend. Marlow, the three-year-old beauty queen with a 300-watt smile. Who could fight with Marlow?

Their son, apparently. That’s who.

That’s not possible.

Gary, I’m afraid it is. Now what we’ve got to do is figure out how to change this.

The words themselves weren’t the intimidation. They never are. It was the delivery, glassy and ringing, and for a moment it made Ruth remember the bars she and Gary frequented before the double lines, the doctor’s visits. Cling, Cheers. Chin-chin, for the pretentious. They were that every so often. She could feel those nights, smell them on her clothes. The sting of the tobacco; the sweet of the booze. She missed it. Missed it.

This face

View this post on Instagram

Children’s Fairyland.

A post shared by Allison Landa (@adlanda) on Sep 12, 2019 at 12:53pm PDT

Once again, Daily OM nails it

This is SO me.

When we choose that which is not best for us, there may be a deep-seated part of us that does not want to heal.

In almost every case, we know what is best for us in our lives, from the relationships we create to the food we eat. Still, somewhat mysteriously, it is often difficult to make the right choices for ourselves. We find ourselves hanging out with someone who leaves us feeling drained or choosing to eat fast food over a salad. We go through phases where we stop doing yoga or taking vitamins, even though we feel so much better when we do. Often we have no idea why we continue to make the less enlightened choice, but it is important that we inquire into ourselves to find out.

When we choose that which is not best for us, the truth can be that there is a deep seated part of us that does not want to heal. We may say it's because we don't have the time or the energy or the resources, but the real truth is that when we don't take care of ourselves we are falling prey to self-sabotage. Self-sabotage happens unconsciously, which is why it's so difficult to see that we are doing it. The important thing to realize is that this very part of us that resists our healing is the part that most needs our attention and love. Even as it appears to be working against us, if we can simply bring it into the light of our consciousness, it can become our greatest ally. It carries the information we need to move to the next level in our healing process.

When we recognize that we are not making healthy choices, we might even say out loud, "I am not taking care of myself." Sometimes this is the jolt we need to wake up to what is actually happening. Next we can sit ourselves down in meditation, with a journal, or with a trusted friend to explore the matter more thoroughly. Just shining the light of our awareness on the source of our resistance is sometimes enough to dispel its power. At other times, further effort is required. Either way, we need not fear these parts that do not want to heal. We only need to take them under our wing and bring them with us into the light.

Now playing

Children's Fairyland

I thought this was established

What happened? That was emotional cheating.
Well, duh.

Some dude who liked to drive my car

Evolution

I always tell Adam we need to evolve together. We were talking about it at lunch together. We've surmounted so much crazy shit, up to and including an unplanned pregnancy that brought us even more closely together.

Not everything has been perfect. I started typing and just erased what I'd written. Some things are between us.

Eighteen years

I was at SFO in Air Canada's check-in line. Clearly I did not fly.

Just texted to a friend

I have a family, a career, friends. I have a full life. High time I gave myself entirely to it.

Daily OM does it again

There is no secret recipe for happiness and contentment. The individuals who move through life joyously have not necessarily been blessed with lives of abundance, love, success, and prosperity. Such people have, however, been blessed with the ability to take the circumstances they've been handed and make them into something great. Our individual realities are colored by perception--delight and despair come from within rather than without. Situations we regard as fortuitous please us while situations we judge inauspicious cause us no end of grief. Yet if we can look at all we have accomplished without dwelling on our perceived misfortune and make each new circumstance our own, the world as a whole becomes a brighter place. A simple shift in attitude can help us recognize and unearth the hidden potential for personal and outer world fulfillment in every event, every relationship, every duty, and every setback. 

The universe is often an unpredictable and chaotic place, and the human tendency is to focus on the negative and assume the positive will care for itself. But life can be no more or no less than what you make of it. If you are working in a job you dislike, you can concentrate on the positive aspects of the position and approach your work with gusto. What can you do with this job that can turn it around so you do love it? When faced with the prospect of undertaking a task you fear, you can view it as an opportunity to discover what you are truly capable of doing. Similarly, unexpected events, when viewed as surprises, can add flavor to your existence. By choosing to love life no matter what crosses your path, you can create an atmosphere of jubilance that is wonderfully infectious. A change in perspective is all it takes to change your world, but you must be willing to adopt an optimistic, hopeful mind-set. 

To make a conscious decision to be happy is not enough. You must learn to observe life's complexities through the eyes of a child seeing everything for the first time. You must furthermore divest yourself of preconceived notions of what is good and what is bad so that you can appreciate the rich insights concealed in each stage of your life's journey. And you must strive to discover the dual joys of wanting what you have. As you gradually shift your perspective, your existence will be imbued with happiness and contentment that will remain with you forever.

Allen Ginsberg, "In Society"

In Society

I walked into the cocktail party

room and found three or four queers

talking together in queertalk.

I tried to be friendly but heard

myself talking to one in hiptalk.

"I'm glad to see you," he said, and

looked away. "Hmn," I mused. The room

was small and had a double-decker

bed in it, and cooking apparatus:

icebox, cabinet, toaster, stove;

the hosts seemed to live with room

enough only for cooking and sleeping.

My remark on this score was understood

but not appreciated. I was

offered refreshments, which I accepted.

I ate a sandwich of pure meat; an 

enormous sandwich of human flesh,

I noticed, while I was chewing on it,

it also included a dirty asshole. 

More company came, including a

fluffy female who looked like 

a princess. She glared at me and

said immediately: "I don't like you," 

turned her head away, and refused

to be introduced. I said, "What!" 

in outrage. "Why you shit-faced fool!"

This got everyone's attention

"Why you narcissistic bitch! How

can you decide when you don't even

know me," I continued in a violent 

and messianic voice, inspired at

last, dominating the whole room

Thoughts

Some talk. Others are. 

Fourth birthday party

More

There was something about being able to talk to another person that way, without filter or fear. It was the thing – one of the things, at any rate – that had drawn her to Gary, this idea that one could just speak to another person without a neat framing of thought. She could just open her mouth and let the thoughts spill, and he would accept them in his Gary-way. Still did.

So why supplement?

There was just something about one on the side. It had always been that way for her, though she had never cheated on Gary, never even kissed another since they first got together. For her, on the side meant someone who could occupy her thoughts obsessively in the fallow times. A fallback, you might say. A temporary substitute. A side dish of sorts, something to complement but not replace the main course. 

Today's writing

Love as choice or chance? As default or defeat? You would think the answers would come more easily over time. You would be wrong. For Ruth, the questions grew larger, developed spikes that brushed the edges of who she was, scratching her skin, turning love from comfort into something colder, more cutting. Icicles in the interior, a forest on the verge of burning down. Nature red in tooth and claw. Blood, ready to spill.

The secret is out ...

I'm going to be teaching at Odysseys in Costa Rica this winter! Holy moly and hallelujah, I cannot wait! More details as they become available!

If you don't want to click, here's the text of what's in the link. But click anyway:

slapeseigerodysseys
This just in from @adlanda and www.allisonlanda.com: Allison Landa, mother, world traveler, former bearded lady and last but not least, badass writer and teacher of badass writing. Stoked to lead her
15 day/14 night workshop, Writing from the Edge,
February 2020. Hosted by www.OdysseysCostaRica.org
in San Ramón, Alajuela, Costa Rica. Details to follow.
Inquiries to Royce at odysseyscostarica@gmail.com

An apple for a cake

Bazzy is four!

What can I say about my kid? He's amazing. If you don't know him, you should.

Goodbye, KFOG

Soon I'll be taking 104.5 off my presets. It's a damn shame. I've been listening to this station since I came to the Bay Area in 1997. (Holy shit.) I will miss them, though like most people I really believe they died when they changed format.

Change.

Change.

Change.

Salesforce Transit Center, the Castro, and points in between

The games cart at the transit center.

Puzzle!

Thoughtful.

Damn, this puzzle's hard.

All these buildings!

Dog-Eared Books, Castro.

So happy!

Obligatory downtown San Francisco shot. 

AC Transit Transbay Line F.

R is his favorite letter.

Cafe Reveille, Castro. Toy from Cliff's Variety.

Bus!

View coming in. 

Ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.

Playground.

I like hearing this

I met my friend Rosa for a writing date earlier today. She said: "I told Nick that I was meeting you and we were saying that you always talk about the real shit with Allison. You never do the small talk."

I'll drink to that.

Today's writing

Something told her to turn her head. There he was. She didn’t know whether to turn tail or fling herself at him full force. There seemed no middle ground.

Instead she just smiled and gave a small wave.

Her first impression was that of fear, which surprised her less than she might have imagined. The fear came from somewhere south of her throat but north of her chest, in that no-man’s land where food still got stuck even years after she’d had bariatric surgery. Gary got so angry when she ran off to throw up – just sit with it he would say, as if he was some sort of Zen master and she just some proto-Buddhist idiot. Sit with it and see if it goes away. But fuck that. Two seconds in the bathroom with her finger down her throat and trouble was vanquished.

Now was different. Trouble lay in that cavity, turbulence on tap. A hurricane, but a wanted one. Category 5? Bring it down, bring it on.

No need to ask the storm’s name.

Santa Rosa, CA, September 2010

Caffe del Doge, Palo Alto, September 2011

3 a.m., we meet again

I am getting rather sick of putting up the coffee in the two o'clock hour. Sitting in the Good Chair in the living room, tapping at the keyboard, halfheartedly playing Words With Friends, wondering when my brain will release its hold on me long enough to allow sleep.

Fuck.

Brokeback Mountain

I’d read it before. This time was different.