A New Coyote...
Jan. 2nd, 2011 06:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quentincoyoteSO!
So, so, so...
*drums paw on table*
So, it is a brand new year, and time for some brand new things. Looking over my journal this past year, it is immediately apparent what an appalling state of disuse it is in. Twitter is responsible somewhat for this, but, it can not take nearly all of the blame. Many other people have commented to me as well, how I used to have such interesting things to say, and now all I ever do for the most part anymore, is post cryptic youtube videos.
And, they are right. Believe me, no one feels this more acutely than myself. And, I know exactly why this is. The fact of the matter is, this past year was one of the absolutely worst in my entire life. My whole world was turned completely upside down, and while I had plenty of thoughts screaming around in my head, I had none of it that I wished to commit to story. I did not like these stories. They were stories of pain, of bitterness... theft... betrayal... humiliation... abandonment... hopelessness... confusion. Stories of getting old, frail, youth and innocence lost... Going over my journal itself, I can see quite clearly where it started, even before it may have become quite apparent on the outside. The day that I stopped telling stories about Us.
There was another bad time in my life, of a... mmm, different and yet similar nature, though less severe, back around late 2005, where I also stopped telling stories for a long while too. If you don't have anything good to say, then don't say anything at all? Perhaps. Rather though, I would put it, I just do not like the Story. I no longer like the narrative of my own life.
I have been reading this book lately: Coyote Wisdom: The Power of Story in Healing, by Lewis Mehl-Madrona. He's a half Cherokee doctor of medicine and psychiatry, and self-avowed Coyote Person, and in his practice he has gained some renown for successfully incorporating certain native american healing traditions, into that of western medicine. From his inside jacket:
Or, in short... the stories that we tell about ourselves, even just to ourselves, affect our overall well being, just as much as the purely "physical" aspects of an ailment, itself. The two are, in fact, not separate. The Story is everything.
On that point, consider this story of my own, which I used to tell myself:
"Driving on the highway, there we pass the control tower of Newark airport. I have grown up seeing this tower, for almost my entire life. How could I have ever known, all of those times passing by it over the years... how very important it would become to me one day? I could never have even guessed that one day, I would be laying there right under it, at FAU... Smoking a hookah, laying under it looking up at the stars, arm in arm with the One who had found me... my soulmate... the one that I loved most dearly, above any other, ever... the one who I was Destined to be with for the rest of my life."
That was a story of great power to me. And, it imbued that object itself, the control tower, with a similar power. So much, as to cause a feeling of great awe and wonder, whenever I saw it. Strength, hope, warmth, love, joy radiating all through me...
Consider now, this very different story:
"Driving on the highway, there we pass the control tower of Newark airport. I have grown up seeing this tower, for almost my entire life. How could I have ever known, all of those times passing by it over the years... that one day, I would be laying underneath it, looking up at the stars, arm in arm with the one who I loved dearly, with all of my heart, above any other, ever.... The one, who I would think that I was Destined to be with, for the rest of my life... ...But, who would eventually cheat on me for almost three months, right under my own nose, with a once-mutual friend, and then run off with him down to Atlanta, leaving me behind, devastated beyond anything that I have ever known."
That's a very powerful story as well. And it creates a monster. A dark obelisk of despair and ruination, visible for miles and miles all around, that I cannot go anywhere without seeing, and having it make the tears start flowing like they'd never stopped at all, all over again.
This is but one microstory out of hundreds, which have been so similarly modified, haunting me, hounding me every day, everywhere I go, even just sitting at home.
There are... other possible formulations of these - and the overall arching - story which could be made, which would be more... charitable towards the One in question, shall we say. However, I have been trying, for almost nine months... and, I have been able to come up with none at all which both: accommodate all of the facts on the ground, and yet also do not leave me here either wasting what little remains of my youth, counting time, waiting in vain for nothing, or just simply outright leaves me here wasting away among the pieces, a hollow shell, a cheap parody of my former self, keeping up appearances and going through all the same tired out motions.
I want out. I need something new. To close this book for good, and start a different one. I need a completely new Story to tell.
So, as some may know, for many years, I had been working on paying off my debt, incurred from my very long time out of work in 2000 - 2001. For the longest time, I had made it my goal to accomplish this - that was my plan, that was my mission. That was my thing to strive for. And, though I do rather well in my work, that debt was rather... substantial and crushing. Well, as I had tweeted about earlier last month, that goal will *finally* be accomplished, this month. Done, all gone, coyote in the black. For the first time in ten years. Also, coincidentally, this year will mark my tenth year officially in the Furry fandom, my first meeting of other furs in 2001, my first ever Anthrocon AC 2001. Ten years ago, one cycle ended, and a completely new one began. One that I wished for, but could never have even dreamed that one day I would actually get to have. Ten years. It would seem that that would be a very fortuitous time to make that cycle happen again. For a long while there, I had thought, once my paying of my debt was done, that my next long term goal would be to put Rex through college, and/or perhaps to start saving up for a house for us. But, that has now been taken from me as well. So, what then, to set as the new goal to strive for?
So, I have been thinking about this long and hard these past several weeks... and, I think that I have settled on one that feels very Right Relationship for me. I love New York City, I really do. And, I would recommend it to any who have not yet experienced it. But, for me, I have lived in this area for almost 18 or 20 years now, and I think that it has just about worn me out. I know everyone that I'm going to know here, have done everything that I'm going to do. And, there are just too many more broken monuments around here than I care to look at all the time, when all I'm trying to do is simply get through the normal course of my day. I can't even see the word "Brooklyn", on any subway station anywhere, without instinctively cringing and grimacing for a moment. I need to be the hell away from here. I need new faces, new places, new things, something different.
So I will say, officially here and now... that it is my goal within the next two years or so, to move myself out to the San Francisco bay area. Permanently.
This is actually something that I have daydreamed about, idly for many years, ever since I was 18, and fantasized about going to college in Berkley, finding my liberal hippy-ish West Coast counter culture life, fleeing my oppression in the East. Parents put the kibosh on that at the time, however. Later on, that dream was rekindled again, when I went to my first FC in 2004, and then for more extended stays later on, and completely fell in love with the mountains, the people, and the overall environment. I think that the culture would also suit me better overall, and the climate certainly would (fuck these New York winters!)
Well, now, I think it's about time to start putting that daydream firmly into the reality column. There is nothing left for me here, anymore. And the more that I think about this, the more excited I have been becoming, about... well, everything again! I see a future with this, looking forward, more Story, once again... and less and less looking back, telling the same old ones over again over again. For the first time in nine months, I have been feeling Happy, and actually optimistic, once more.
I already know a ton of people out that way to begin with, and, I have recently joined the Bay Area Furs mailing list, introduced myself, and have started talking to like a ton of new people that I'd never met before, telling me all kinds of exciting sounding things and places. With my trip that I'll be taking out to FC in a couple weekends, I'm hoping to meet up with a lot of them, and I'll sort of be using this as a fact finding mission, feeling some things out to see how I might better make this happen. This is good. This feels right to me, and it's really giving me something hopeful to look forward to again. With this, I will now once again reclaim control of my own story, instead of letting it buffet me about on the rocks, as it has been for awhile.
***
A new friend that I've made from the Bay, in talking with them about this, recently sent me this quote. I like it a lot:
"West is where we all plan to go someday. It is where you go when the land gives out and the old-field pines encroach. It is where you go when you get the letter saying 'Flee, all is discovered!'. It is where you go when you look down at the blade in your hand and see blood on it. It is where you go when you are told that you are a bubble on the tide of Empire.It is where you go to grow up with the country. It is where you go to spend your old age. Or it is just where you go".
-Robert Penn Warren "All the King's Men"
So let it be Written, so let it be Done!
The Dog Days are Over
So, so, so...
*drums paw on table*
So, it is a brand new year, and time for some brand new things. Looking over my journal this past year, it is immediately apparent what an appalling state of disuse it is in. Twitter is responsible somewhat for this, but, it can not take nearly all of the blame. Many other people have commented to me as well, how I used to have such interesting things to say, and now all I ever do for the most part anymore, is post cryptic youtube videos.
And, they are right. Believe me, no one feels this more acutely than myself. And, I know exactly why this is. The fact of the matter is, this past year was one of the absolutely worst in my entire life. My whole world was turned completely upside down, and while I had plenty of thoughts screaming around in my head, I had none of it that I wished to commit to story. I did not like these stories. They were stories of pain, of bitterness... theft... betrayal... humiliation... abandonment... hopelessness... confusion. Stories of getting old, frail, youth and innocence lost... Going over my journal itself, I can see quite clearly where it started, even before it may have become quite apparent on the outside. The day that I stopped telling stories about Us.
There was another bad time in my life, of a... mmm, different and yet similar nature, though less severe, back around late 2005, where I also stopped telling stories for a long while too. If you don't have anything good to say, then don't say anything at all? Perhaps. Rather though, I would put it, I just do not like the Story. I no longer like the narrative of my own life.
I have been reading this book lately: Coyote Wisdom: The Power of Story in Healing, by Lewis Mehl-Madrona. He's a half Cherokee doctor of medicine and psychiatry, and self-avowed Coyote Person, and in his practice he has gained some renown for successfully incorporating certain native american healing traditions, into that of western medicine. From his inside jacket:
"We evolve through relationships... Healing involved restoration of "right relationship". I need to hear your story, the story you tell about yourself and your illness, to know where your relationships are disturbed. The unfolding of the story provides the clues about where to restore balance and harmony.
In this book, I advance the importance of the story in medical practice. I want to convey the idea that illness, and the story of the illness, are as inseparable as mind and body. When we speak about an illness, we engage in a creative act. With our words and gestures, we can augment health or illness. We listen to what we say. We convince others to agree with us. The philosopher George Herbert Mead believed that words have visceral components. We feel in our guts what we say. Even if we consciously use one meaning for a word, our bodies react to all of its meanings. This corresponds to what Hindus mean when they speak about the vibration of a sound and how that vibration resonates within the whole body. Through our social interactions, we learn to feel some words differently than others. Are we speaking healing words or sickness words? We find out by listening to the stories we tell and perceive their effects upon our bodies and upon our listeners."
Or, in short... the stories that we tell about ourselves, even just to ourselves, affect our overall well being, just as much as the purely "physical" aspects of an ailment, itself. The two are, in fact, not separate. The Story is everything.
On that point, consider this story of my own, which I used to tell myself:
"Driving on the highway, there we pass the control tower of Newark airport. I have grown up seeing this tower, for almost my entire life. How could I have ever known, all of those times passing by it over the years... how very important it would become to me one day? I could never have even guessed that one day, I would be laying there right under it, at FAU... Smoking a hookah, laying under it looking up at the stars, arm in arm with the One who had found me... my soulmate... the one that I loved most dearly, above any other, ever... the one who I was Destined to be with for the rest of my life."
That was a story of great power to me. And, it imbued that object itself, the control tower, with a similar power. So much, as to cause a feeling of great awe and wonder, whenever I saw it. Strength, hope, warmth, love, joy radiating all through me...
Consider now, this very different story:
"Driving on the highway, there we pass the control tower of Newark airport. I have grown up seeing this tower, for almost my entire life. How could I have ever known, all of those times passing by it over the years... that one day, I would be laying underneath it, looking up at the stars, arm in arm with the one who I loved dearly, with all of my heart, above any other, ever.... The one, who I would think that I was Destined to be with, for the rest of my life... ...But, who would eventually cheat on me for almost three months, right under my own nose, with a once-mutual friend, and then run off with him down to Atlanta, leaving me behind, devastated beyond anything that I have ever known."
That's a very powerful story as well. And it creates a monster. A dark obelisk of despair and ruination, visible for miles and miles all around, that I cannot go anywhere without seeing, and having it make the tears start flowing like they'd never stopped at all, all over again.
This is but one microstory out of hundreds, which have been so similarly modified, haunting me, hounding me every day, everywhere I go, even just sitting at home.
There are... other possible formulations of these - and the overall arching - story which could be made, which would be more... charitable towards the One in question, shall we say. However, I have been trying, for almost nine months... and, I have been able to come up with none at all which both: accommodate all of the facts on the ground, and yet also do not leave me here either wasting what little remains of my youth, counting time, waiting in vain for nothing, or just simply outright leaves me here wasting away among the pieces, a hollow shell, a cheap parody of my former self, keeping up appearances and going through all the same tired out motions.
I want out. I need something new. To close this book for good, and start a different one. I need a completely new Story to tell.
So, as some may know, for many years, I had been working on paying off my debt, incurred from my very long time out of work in 2000 - 2001. For the longest time, I had made it my goal to accomplish this - that was my plan, that was my mission. That was my thing to strive for. And, though I do rather well in my work, that debt was rather... substantial and crushing. Well, as I had tweeted about earlier last month, that goal will *finally* be accomplished, this month. Done, all gone, coyote in the black. For the first time in ten years. Also, coincidentally, this year will mark my tenth year officially in the Furry fandom, my first meeting of other furs in 2001, my first ever Anthrocon AC 2001. Ten years ago, one cycle ended, and a completely new one began. One that I wished for, but could never have even dreamed that one day I would actually get to have. Ten years. It would seem that that would be a very fortuitous time to make that cycle happen again. For a long while there, I had thought, once my paying of my debt was done, that my next long term goal would be to put Rex through college, and/or perhaps to start saving up for a house for us. But, that has now been taken from me as well. So, what then, to set as the new goal to strive for?
So, I have been thinking about this long and hard these past several weeks... and, I think that I have settled on one that feels very Right Relationship for me. I love New York City, I really do. And, I would recommend it to any who have not yet experienced it. But, for me, I have lived in this area for almost 18 or 20 years now, and I think that it has just about worn me out. I know everyone that I'm going to know here, have done everything that I'm going to do. And, there are just too many more broken monuments around here than I care to look at all the time, when all I'm trying to do is simply get through the normal course of my day. I can't even see the word "Brooklyn", on any subway station anywhere, without instinctively cringing and grimacing for a moment. I need to be the hell away from here. I need new faces, new places, new things, something different.
So I will say, officially here and now... that it is my goal within the next two years or so, to move myself out to the San Francisco bay area. Permanently.
This is actually something that I have daydreamed about, idly for many years, ever since I was 18, and fantasized about going to college in Berkley, finding my liberal hippy-ish West Coast counter culture life, fleeing my oppression in the East. Parents put the kibosh on that at the time, however. Later on, that dream was rekindled again, when I went to my first FC in 2004, and then for more extended stays later on, and completely fell in love with the mountains, the people, and the overall environment. I think that the culture would also suit me better overall, and the climate certainly would (fuck these New York winters!)
Well, now, I think it's about time to start putting that daydream firmly into the reality column. There is nothing left for me here, anymore. And the more that I think about this, the more excited I have been becoming, about... well, everything again! I see a future with this, looking forward, more Story, once again... and less and less looking back, telling the same old ones over again over again. For the first time in nine months, I have been feeling Happy, and actually optimistic, once more.
I already know a ton of people out that way to begin with, and, I have recently joined the Bay Area Furs mailing list, introduced myself, and have started talking to like a ton of new people that I'd never met before, telling me all kinds of exciting sounding things and places. With my trip that I'll be taking out to FC in a couple weekends, I'm hoping to meet up with a lot of them, and I'll sort of be using this as a fact finding mission, feeling some things out to see how I might better make this happen. This is good. This feels right to me, and it's really giving me something hopeful to look forward to again. With this, I will now once again reclaim control of my own story, instead of letting it buffet me about on the rocks, as it has been for awhile.
***
A new friend that I've made from the Bay, in talking with them about this, recently sent me this quote. I like it a lot:
"West is where we all plan to go someday. It is where you go when the land gives out and the old-field pines encroach. It is where you go when you get the letter saying 'Flee, all is discovered!'. It is where you go when you look down at the blade in your hand and see blood on it. It is where you go when you are told that you are a bubble on the tide of Empire.It is where you go to grow up with the country. It is where you go to spend your old age. Or it is just where you go".
-Robert Penn Warren "All the King's Men"
So let it be Written, so let it be Done!
The Dog Days are Over
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no subject
Date: 2011-01-03 10:30 am (UTC)Congratulations on getting out of debt, I know how hard that can be when I lived on credit while out of work during 2007 and just now got all of that paid off.
I thought about moving to California but decided it was too expensive and too far away from all of the action on the east coast.
Good luck! :)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-04 01:33 am (UTC)