Heart beats
Amplified
Into silence
Rattle
Speakers
Of truth

…to fight: for what I love, what I know, what I believe, what I deserve, what I want, and for the people who need me.

…to accept: who I am, what I deserve, what I see in others, what others reflect of me.

…to act: right, from an aligned place, with all of me, on my ideas.

…to embrace: love, another, myself, my dreams, my reality, my weaknesses, my strengths.

…to challenge: myself, others, my limits, my limitations, my beliefs, my teachers, possibility.

…to love: myself, others, my life, life, my inner child, my saboteur, my moments, my mysteries.

…to dance: with life, in life, as life, and for life; with myself, with everything, with everyone.

…to release: because I only lose what I cling to; when I’m done; when it’s time to move on.

…to celebrate: where I’ve been, what I’ve done; what I’m doing, where I am; where I’m headed; when I get there.

…to laugh: because it’s not that serious.

I just found out that my good friend, and brother-from-another, Tony Marienthal, passed away, this weekend, in his sleep. He was around 50 years old.

“Sea Dragon,” as we called him, was super fit, and completed the dreadful Escape from Alcatraz maybe 30 years in a row. He loved his only son, like a crazy person, and did the inner work it took to be a great father, mentor and friend to young Ryan Eric. He made money, lost money, found money. He had love, lost love, found love, and he found more of himself, every step of the way.

I lived the privilege of Tony’s friendship, as one of his brothers in the Mankind Project. We initiated men into our tribe, together. We processed our differences, together. We learned how to step up into leadership, together. Tony helped me do some of the deepest inner work of my lifetime, and was willing to do so, anywhere, anytime and no matter what. His generosity of wisdom, attention, love, presence, compassion and strength, helped me, in process and in life, and helped so many others in our community. Tony was a great teacher, as well as a great friend.

I can only imagine Tony, as a dad. I can only imagine his son’s sadness. I can only hope that his family heals quickly, from this sudden loss.

I heard from some mutual friends that Tony went out, in stride. His work and his affairs were falling into place, he was feeling accomplished and alive. He was in love again, and his relationship with his son was healthy and fun. Glad to hear he was happy. Sad to know he’s gone.

Thank you, Tony: for doing your work in such a major way; for helping me do mine; for being a man in the world; and for living your mission the way you did.

Mad Respect. Much Love.

Conscious Lion

Here’s a note that I wrote, but forgot to post here on this blog. It’s in response to an invitation I received to support an social action to not pay our debts – credit and student loan debts – in protest of the 1%, the status quo and the banking and education systems.

I can relate to the frustrations of credit, student loans and debt. I spent my childhood on a path of academic achievement, because my mother – an educator, a working-class single mom and a true believer in the value of a top-notch education – didn’t give me much choice in the matter. I enjoyed the ride, and did develop some great skills, habits and gray matter.

At age 17, i also was accepted to five out of the six Top 25 American universities that I applied to. I chose Tufts University, because they didn’t want me to serve their community as an exemplary Latino student. That was a big deal, to me, because I have been estranged from my Latino father’s family my whole life, and was raised as a “white kid” by my Catholic, Polish-American mother and her Jewish family. Latino was a technicality, for me, not a lifestyle, when I was 17. So, I shirked the pressure and rejected the generous “ethnic” scholarship offers from at least three other top university, and accepted a meager, arguably-unfavorable financial aid package from Tufts…because I could be the “myself” that felt comfortable and authentic to me.

I worked my tail off at Tufts. Not in the classroom (sorry, Ma), but at mutliple on and off-campus jobs, in order to fund my exploration of myself as a young adult, and to fuel the joys, afford the tools and drop deeper into life away from Big Momma’s House. Good times. Hard times. By the time I graduated, I owed my mom money, the government money and I definitely owed money on high-interest credit cards. I lived beyond my means, and I continued to, throughout my twenties. My mom’s financial situation improved after her first retirement, so she was able to help me pay down some student loan debt. I am grateful.

My credit card debt? I carried that, added to that, and definitely lived well with the help of that, into my early thirties. I’ve been chased by collectors, lived many tough financial choices and the juggled my budget in my fight to not feel the limitations of my income, my expenses and my commitments. But, the system isn’t to blame for my bad credit score, or my stress. I am.

I knew what I was signing up for, at 17. I knew what I agreed to, at 18, when i got my first credit card. I knew what I committed to, at 25, when i funded a year-long apprenticeship in sound design with grad school loans and credit cards. and I know that I deserved the repercussions of my actions, my decisions and my indulgence of my shadows, my process and my impulses.

So, yeah, I have crappy credit. And no matter how much money I earn or am worth, I still might need my mom (who has great credit) to co-sign a lease for me, at age 32. I can’t get a credit card, no one will give me a mortgage, and I recently found out that I’m not eligible for bank accounts – even at some of the hallowed, sacred, beloved credit unions and community banks.

But, hey, that’s on me – and in my judgment, that’s not on the system. No one forced me to live beyond my means. No one forced me to aim higher than I could afford. No one forced me to not pay my credit card bills, rack up interest that I couldn’t overcome and eventually settle my consumer debt (at the expense of some family monies, my money, a lot of stress and a favorable credit score). No one has forced me to defer my student loan payments because I don’t earn enough to pay them off right now. No one. I chose to do all that. I chose this path.

I chose it, when i wanted to keep up with richer teenagers. I chose it, when I wanted to avoid feeling poor or broke. I chose it, when I wanted to pretend like I didn’t have a mountain of financial commitments. I chose it, each time I quit a “good job” to pursue my personal interests, drop deeper into my emotional healing or live the adventure of starting over, from scratch. And I continue to choose it, each time I shy away from more lucrative work, or reject the idea of returning to my communications career full time, because I love my schedule, my current work, and my lifestyle. Plus, Cubicle World is crumbling – it’s a losing bet, right? Maybe. Maybe not.

But my current financial situtation isn’t the fault of cubicle world. I don’t feel hustled, and I don’t believe that others have been hustled. In my judgment, we all know bad deals when we encounter them. In my experience, I’ve chosen to look the other way, to have what I want in the moment, and sign up for the deal, anyway. Partially, because I don’t believe in the System. Partially because I have not always been in integrity with all the realms of my life. Heck, I’m still not always in integrity with every part of my life puzzle. Partially, yes, because I didn’t know any better – I was a kid, when this momentum started. And partially, yes, because no one taught me not to.

But to blame the System, or the banks, or the education system for my situation doesn’t seem fair. Making a deal with the devil and not making good on my end of it, hasn’t felt good. Sure, it’s the devil. and yeah, fuck the devil. He sucks. But, a deal is a deal, and Chase, Shitibank and Sallie Mae didn’t force me to want more. They helped me have more, in the moment. What i did with it, is on me. So is paying it back, or suffering the consequences of not paying it back.

Not paying it back feels to me almost as childish as blaming my parents for the decisions I’ve made in my lifetime. Or, like blaming Marlboro for making me addicted to cigarettes, Maker’s Mark for making me drink a bottle of bourbon, or blaming Hostess for making me eat a case of Twinkies.

I knew the deal. I know the deal. The print isn’t that fine. I chose to ignore it.

Power to the People. Occupy Your Mind.

A few weeks ago, I was living and breathing Occupy Oakland, and serving the Occupy movement as a willing, vocal and definitely verbose ambassador. I struggled to make sense of a social movement that I deem vital to the survival of our civilization, and to stand, publicly, for its nebulous beliefs, values and requests of the status quo.

My barking helped me reconnect with my writing habit, and it helped introduce me to many of my neighbors. Some, I could shake hands with. Others, I could only approve as friends on Facebook. It’s wild: how quickly connections happen. It’s fun: how easily people settle for my answers to their questions about a mission that we’re all on, together. Friends at work started calling me “Occupy,” and I had to clear the air with a few of them: “I don’t discuss my politics while on the clock, and I’d prefer that they don’t discuss my politics at work, either.” Neighbors and friends celebrated my efforts downtown, on Facebook and through this blog. A friend of a friend bought me a beer, one night, because he said it was the least he could do, to support Occupy.

What a trip. I was writing about Occupy, because I couldn’t not write about Occupy. How can we talk about anything else? Really, what else is there to talk about? I’m appalled, surprised, not-surprised and even heartbroken, when I click onto American media that still wants to talk about celebrity gossip, political drama, lifestyle tips and movie reviews. That we’re even making movies about anything but the fact that OUR WORLD IS CHANGING AT AN ACCELERATED PACE AND WE MIGHT NOT LIVE TO SEE OUR CHILDREN BECOME ADULTS, IF WE DON’T GET OUR SHIT TOGETHER, STOP PRETENDING LIKE THIS ISN’T REALLY HAPPENING AND WAKE THE FUCK UP AND SNAP INTO ACTION seems totally crazy to me.

Oh, right, we are getting our shit together, and some of us are keeping it real, and many of us are wide awake and in action. That’s what’s happening, right now.

And, with 2012 gleefully awaiting us around the corner, and the pulse of our planet, the pace of our creations and the potency of our manifestations accelerating exponentially, I wonder what’s next.

In the spirit of the great NostraDanus (not a typo), I will note my short predictions for the future:

What’s next, for this planet? I read in the news that they’ve found another one, for us to maybe live on.

What’s next, for nosotros? Community, the end of the “Me” vs. “They” era and the realization of the “We” and “One” consciousness in our civilization.

And what’s next, for me? The world’s ending next December, so I might as well go big, do some impossible shit, in 2012.

And a note to my readers: I’ve not been blogging about Occupy, the past few weeks, mostly because I’ve been experiencing it online, and not in person. I work each evening that Occupy Oakland meets to hold General Assemblies. I’m not willing, nor can I afford to get arrested for participating in the guerilla camping and “hey you, kids, get off my lawn / screw you, fogie, it’s our lawn” camp defense actions that have been the theme of Occupy Oakland and Occupy SF’s past few weeks. But I continue to spread REAL news and clips, via Facebook, and in conversations. I’ve visited Occupy SF twice in recent weeks. I’m supporting evolutionaries and revolution, in my own way. I’m still living our evolution, I’m still in action and I’m still one of the many voices that are helping to shift the consciousness of our collective of human beings in a direction that I deem positive and healthy.

Occupy Everything. Power to the People. Long live the Oakland Commune.