words (r) matter

real time upgrade #2

2011-12-31T15:29:00.000-08:00

Greetings, oh loyal and lovely words(r)matter followers.

I borrowed today's example from a status update a colleague posted on Facebook. I've modified the posting ever-so-slightly out of respect for those mentioned in said post.

If you haven't checked out (Marketing Coach X's) new (product she's selling) - you will want to contact her...

The opening caveat: "If you haven't..." suggests that if you have, then there's no reason to read further, which wunconsciously discounts plenty of potential clients. Moreso, it's not relevant - it's a space filler, time waster. She's stalling. With two minute elevator pitches shrinking down to 90 second blocks of available attention, with Tweets capping our updates at 140 characters, we have less and less time to land our message. As such, we are well-served with concise, deliberate brevity, such that our every word is consciously chosen for a very specific purpose: to deliver our message with absolute efficiency, potency and grace.

Let's talk about that "you" in "...you will want to...": Have you read Nonviolent Communication? The teachings are an integral part of a deliberate communication practice, and I highly recommend it. A pillar of nonviolent communication is the practice of owning our experience without presuming to know anyone else's. In this instance, the colleague would be wiser to word her update as follows:

"I encourage you to contact her."

thus, owning her experience, which is wanting her followers to do a specific thing, without actually bossing them around, or bullying them.

In addition to her telling her followers what they want, she claims to know the future in saying:

"...you will want to..."

Even if the sentence was an effective means of communicating (which it isn't), to say that we "will want" is to steep her allegation in the conceptual notion of a linear future, which allows her followers to sidestep their present moment, and to wait until this supposed desire washes over them. The downside of future-based communication is that it allows us to procrastinate, while taking us out of our present moment experience.

The most effective upgrade for this sentence reads as follows:

"I encourage you to contact (Marketing Coach X) immediately. I just tried her (product she is selling), and am inspired and excited beyond measure."

The last sentence is optional, and is an honest way of mentioning the product, and of hyping it - authentically.

This concludes our words(r)matter real time upgrade.

Happy, happiest New Year to us all.

"I'm gonna let you go."

2011-12-23T20:32:00.000-08:00

real time upgrade #1

2011-12-22T20:01:00.000-08:00

Greetings, oh lovely and loyal words(r)matter followers.

While celebrating the solstice and all the impending light it portends, I am inspired to try something new. The idea is to take truncated samples of client-generated copy, or blurbs, bits and bites found on the web or in various publications, and to guide you, the words(r)matter community, through my process of upgrading them. This will allow you to familiarize yourself with unconscious communication sabotage, while I demonstrate how to effectively upgrade our languaging patterns.

Here goes:

I nabbed the following quote from a blog written by a very famous and respected life coach:

Unlike Alisa I have a strong belief we should all listen to our gut instincts more, not less frequently and I’m going to try and explain why I think it’s so important.

What appears on the surface to be one, short, well-intended sentence is, in fact, a communication train wreck loaded with doubt, pettiness, and trepidation. Do you see why?

Let's start with Unlike Alisa...:

The author could easily remove these words without changing the content of the sentence, while owning his truth without leaning on the inferred mistaken belief system of another. Comparison is an activity steeped in duality, necessarily reliant upon another's wrong-doing/weakness/stupidity/inferiority/etc.

...we should...

I've blogged on "should" before, so my explanation here will be brief. Many humans are rebellious by nature and will unconsciously contract when being told what to do. Should is a word that challenges our will, inviting contraction and defense. Should is ineffective because, in many cases, it shuts down the receiver, making it exponentially more difficult to land our message, and to be heard.

...I'm going to try to explain...

Like Yoda says: Don't try; do. When we try to do anything, we are communicating doubt; we are transmitting the possibility of failure. Try is a confidence killer. Would you rather invest in someone who is going to try to succeed, or in someone who is going to succeed?

...why I think it's so important.

If he didn't think it was important, then he wouldn't be saying it, so the word is superfluous. Moreso, it's wishy-washy, indicative of lack of confidence, of a consciousness waiting for permission to own its own beliefs. I promise to blog more about this in the future - the habit we humans are currently outgrowing - the one that inspires us to evade our own knowingness in favor of statistics and heavily footnoted texts authored by academics with fancy initials trailing their names. The point here is that in modifying his assertion of importance with those two little words "I think," he is undermining his own authority, his own experience, and advising his audience to cut him some slack in case he turns out to be wrong.

This is one sentence in a blog post comprised of several, and it is brimming with doubt, ineffectiveness and a slew of energetic Nos.

Does this make sense? Are you grocking the points listed above? Please, comment freely, send me questions and feedback. I'm curious to know how this lands.

The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions

2011-10-11T17:09:00.000-07:00

A trailer for a movie called "Miss Representation" has been making the Facebook rounds. The movie takes on the media, and the myriad ways women are misrepresented in it. In one scene, a woman wearing a suit and an air of authority says: "If you can't see it, you can't be it."

Talk about imposing a limitation on women.

Sure, it's easier to be it when we see it - exponentially so - but to allege that it's not possible to be what we can't see, especially in the context of discussing all the images of authentic empowered women we're not (yet) seeing, is extraordinarily limiting, and dangerous, to boot.

It's a perfect example of negative space speak doing us a disservice. Let us not concern ourselves with what isn't, and focus instead on what is:

"When we see it, it's infinitely easier to be it."

Every word matters.

When "Why?" Doesn't Serve...

2011-08-13T22:13:00.001-07:00

where are all the magic words?

2011-07-13T18:18:00.000-07:00

it's no secret that we live in a society shaped by the masculine. know that when i say "masculine," i don't mean men, and i'm not thinking in terms of gender, i mean the energies of the masculine polarity - the yang - logic, reason and linear structure. our language reflects this bias. think how many words there are for money - cash, coin, dough, bucks, moolah. how many do we have for love? for unseen energies, and for those who work with them?

around 1700 years ago, all the gnostic libraries were destroyed by those pushing a dogmatic religious (read: political) agenda. most of the mystical texts were lost, as were our mystical words and our feminine language.

without words to represent these more enigmatic and esoteric concepts, people stopped believing in them. we forgot about the magic for which we used to have so many names and words and descriptive symbols.

it's time to bring these concepts back into the mix. and so, it's time for us to name them.

let's make up some words, shall we?

word world

2011-05-27T11:38:00.000-07:00

"The syntactical nature of reality, the real secret of magic, is that the world is made up of words. And, if you know the words that the world is made of, you can make of it whatever you wish."
- Terence McKenna

what do you wish to make of it? what ARE you making of it?

let us examine this example taken from a (sweet, yummy, amazing) friend's Facebook status update:
"disheartened by the nasty non-recyclable aseptic nut milk containers and the volume i was consuming in my daily Dope Ass Smoothie routine, i've taken to making my own."

(and, thank you, dear, sweet friend, for loving your planet and yourself enough to model this inspired action)

AND...how does it feel when we word it like this:
"inspired and excited to lighten the load on my/our beautiful planet, i've taken to making my own nut milk - no containers to (not) recycle, no preservatives around which to pray. yay!"

...ahhhhh, infinitely more uplifting, yes?

again, i ask you: what are you making of it?

love, love, love from Taos...dani

gossip...

2011-04-10T16:18:00.000-07:00

I hugged a friend with whom I'd unexpectedly crossed paths, as she said: "I was just talking about you..." and then added, quickly: "It was all good stuff."

I had no response, as I hadn't assumed anything different. Why would I assume the worst? If I'm missing information, and left to imagine the holes filled even and sanded smooth, I assume the best, because it feels the best, and it vibrates the highest, and it's probably even the truth. Why is it our default to assume the worst of one another, and to defend our third party information sharing with assurances of our good intent, as though to speak well of someone in their absence is an anomaly?

Maybe it has something to do with that third party information sharing habit that is our cultural pastime, which is itself caustic and destructive. Gossip, hearsay - all that juicy, time-wasting, space-filling nonsense about so many absent others that may or may not be true - is wickedly viral and vicious in its spreading, pollinating lies and opinions passed off as empirical reality, as fact, through filters of individual wounds and issues and perspectives; sullying reputations, tarnishing the field, and eroding trust, community and friendship in its careless passing.

Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people.

- Eleanor Roosevelt

Let us be great, shall we? It's time.

declarative sentences are the new black.

2011-03-27T19:26:00.001-07:00

etymology...

2011-02-10T09:57:00.000-08:00

terrific.
terrify.
hmmmm...

Back to the Basics: Try

2011-01-19T20:12:00.000-08:00

We've all heard it before:

Don't try; do.

Still, that insidious little cop-out of a verb continues to infiltrate our vocabulary, inadvertently holding us back, slowing us down and cramping our style.

Try introduces the possibility of failure into the scenario in question. It transmits doubt.

"We're trying to get this project off the ground."

"I'm trying to quit smoking."

"What I'm trying to say is..."

Notice how weak these sentences/phrases are. Do you feel the efforting laden in the first sound bite? The hurdles, the chaos and the blocks? Would you invest money in his mission? Do you associate speaker 2 as a smoker, or a non-smoker? Is person 3 presenting themselves as an effective communicator, or are they acknowledging their failure?

And so we see how this seemingly innocuous try is a tiny, yet powerful and effective means of self-sabotage.

I repeat: Don't try; do.

a few words on "should"

2011-01-03T10:19:00.000-08:00

Plenty of people are running rebel consciousness in some form or another, which renders them less open to being told what to do then, say, Virgos, religious fanatics or children. Some folks, the author included, shut down when being told what to do, thus making themselves unavailable for whatever message may trail the otherwise well-intentioned heels of the casually dropped “should”. As long as we’re expending the energy to communicate, doesn’t it make sense to support ourselves in being heard? Should resonates at a despotic, tyrannical frequency that causes contraction in the receiver (i.e. the people we're talking to). It’s infinitely more difficult to throw a ball through a tiny slit than a gaping hole. Opting to employ words that expand the receiver makes it infinitely easier for them to hear and integrate our messages, and for us deliver them.

Besides, a healthy third chakra isn’t interested in bossing anyone else around. Free will’s way more fun.

the malignment of might

2010-12-16T17:40:00.000-08:00

Remember might: that power-packed noun that stood for strength and vigor, for the ability to accomplish feats of mastery and mountain-sized miracles?

And then somewhere along the way, we forgot our power, and that forgetting seeped its way into our language, which is but iconic shorthand for our culture's very consciousness, and so, as we traded in our critical thinking for convenience and celebrity gossip, so too did our formerly mighty might devolve into evasive auxiliary verb - reflecting the wishy-washy maybe-ness of an infantilized populace, sleepily waiting for someone else to right the world's wrongs, and recycle our landfills.

like, totally....

2010-11-22T22:58:00.000-08:00

I was raised in the Valley - yes, that Valley; and, as I type these words, I'm clear that this is a story that's been holding me hostage, and so, I let it go...

Let's start fresh, from right here, right now.

...

I say like a lot.

Like, a lot.

It peppers a great, big bunch of my sentences--clear, cancel, delete. It has - historically - peppered a great, big bunch of my sentences, while filling in plenty of spaces in between.

I've pondered my careless overuse of this insidious little like many times throughout our years together, analyzing its ubiquity in my expression from various angles and vantage points.

Like slipped into the collective Valley Girl consciousness, including my own, in the 80s as a way to maintain an air of non-committal whateverness, such that the speaker (moi) need not actually own the statement trailing its red patent leather heels.

For example: "It was, like, the smallest elephant in the world."

In this instance, like frees the speaker from any actual responsibility from what she's purporting to be true, such that the subject of her sentence may actually be a perfectly average-sized elephant, or a moth, or a toenail.

More recently, back when I was sprinkling careless likes between my otherwise deliberately-chosen words, it was a check-out - an unconscious tic of tongue, inadvertently disempowering my speech, dumbing me down to judgmental ears receiving me as vapid and shallow, because that's one of the unfortunate side effects of the overused like - it vibrates at the same energetic frequency as stupid.

Like is a tell - it means (meant) I'm not present. I'm not hearing myself. I'm not here.

I choose to be here. Now. I choose to experience every fractal morsel of every juicy moment of this blooming, booming life of mine.

I. Am. Here.

P.S. As mastery of a language of empowerment and present moment triumph is a practice, and a practice well-served and exponentially accelerated by the reflections and support of a community of conscious communicators, I cordially invite you to call me in to the moment if* you hear me use like as a conversational check-out.

* if, in this exceptional instance, is deliberate. this concludes our lengthy stream of afterthoughts.

home

2010-11-15T18:47:00.000-08:00

Since packing up the entirety of my hilltop bungalow last month, to move into this liminal question mark that is the as yet to be determined next nest, I've been pondering the word "home." While I'm officially without home - home-less, home-light, home-free - I'm realizing that home is neither structure, nor zip code; home is truly a moment to moment experience.

In this past week alone, I've moved from a treetop hideaway in Los Feliz, to a Sherman Oaks dream house, complete with Tempurpedic bed, 1000+ thread count sheets, and the World's greatest bathtub; dropped in on a gutted Malibu mansion, and ended up, last night, on a futon perched atop a Silverlake yoga studio, from which I currently type.

So, here are some thoughts on home:

Home is Yerba Mate and dance class. Home is my book proposal, and on this end of its completion, my book. Home is every friend who isn't worried about me, and who lets me forward my mail to their house, and who hands me a Powerbook without blinking an eye when my own laptop has an impromptu panic attack and I'm tempted to follow suit. Home is an incoming text: "thinking of you," "how are you?," "i love you." Home is a kitten cuddle on a Malibu couch. Home is Dirty Chocolate. Home is the key to my favorite Pilates studio, for midnight core connecting. Home is Guru Singh in my headphones, imploring me to get cozy with my discomfort, to embrace this uncertainty and to "Wake the f--- up!" Home is my iPhone charger in my purse, and a trunkful of shoes. Home is my morning meditation, and my favorite blue sweatshirt, and Savasana and Sufi Bliss Ascension Oil.

Home is right here, right now, ouchie hands, and all.

easy upgrade

2010-08-12T18:42:00.000-07:00

If my book is a #1 Bestseller...

Why waiver?

Why doubt?

When my book soars to the tippy-top of the New York Times Bestseller list...

Claim it.

Declare it to be so.

And so it is.

grrrrrr...

2010-05-10T21:05:00.000-07:00

what are we really talking about?

2010-04-29T09:23:00.000-07:00

lately, i've observed myself asking the same question, over and over and over again, like a curious kindergartner, building her bourgeoning vocabulary from the ground up:

"what does that mean?"

or, "how are you defining _________"?

for most every word we choose and use, there are a litany of "official" definitions
ascribed to it, and then an infinite variety of nuances, associations, concepts and assumptions overlaid atop it's academic meaning which are then infused by our own personal filters and projections.

shared definitions are actually extraordinarily rare.

the disparity is a beautiful opportunity for us to dialogue our way towards deeper understanding, and shared intimacy, as long as we're bold enough to acknowledge our ignorance (as in, "i don't know what that means"), and present and curious enough to dive into the rabbit hole of inquiry, and to follow its sometimes bumpy and winding path to the inevitable sparkle of truth that eagerly awaits our discovery.

clarity

2010-04-08T15:14:00.000-07:00

I've been observing the scent of confusion wafting through my daily grind. Where to focus my attention and my energies? There's the script, the book, the graphic novel, the web project, the art show(s), the documentary, the illustration gig, the panty line, the blog, the animated short that's been clawing to get out - every which way some dazzling, dizzying, wonderful creation clawing to be birthed into material reality.

And then I slowed down enough to hone in on the culprit:

every which way

I use these words daily, in a kicky, quirky sort of throw-away hyperbolic frenzy of enthusiastic space-filling.

every which way?

anchoring in confusion with careless words tossed unconsciously forth because they sound pretty while modifying their speaker (me) into deeper and murkier states of which way shall I go? confusion.

lesson learned.

i am clear, focused, easy, effective, effortless direction now.

words matter. every one of 'em.

hyperbole

2010-03-25T22:30:00.000-07:00

I inhabit a community colored by hyperbole. Every day is the best day ever, and a casual, though authentically curious How are you, elicits a giddy and gurgling "totally amazing" or "incredibly awesome every which way" or some other effusively positive, yet entirely inconceivable outpouring of chocolate-frosted nothing.

The emotion infusing the sentiment is delightful. I'm all for saying yes, breathing gratitude, and vibrating high and dazzling more and more and always and allways. Still, from a linguistic angle, referring specifically to the art of communication, hyperbole does little to actually translate one's experience. The descriptives lend a vague sense of joy, garnished with a dash of oomph, but (AND) they fall short in expressing any sort of qualitative experience such that the listener (or reader, as the case may be) actually understands and hence, connects with, the other person's state of heart, mind, body or spirit. In fact, my experience on both the doling out and receiving of hyperbole, is that it's an efficient way to keep the other at bay, to avoid connection, to stave off intimacy. To invite connection, to foster and to nurture true intimacy requires us to connect to our feeling state, to the reality of our experience in the moment, and to share it with the other, regardless of how shadowy, mundane or twisted we fear that reality may be.

So, how am i, you ask?

I am sleepy, centered, satisfied, slightly sore of neck and dry of cheek (unwanted afternoon sun) and wanting to be touched while inviting this longing to take its leave, knowing that the empty space that takes its place is infinitely more satisfying in its truth and in its breadth.

Which is my semi-spiritual, slightly heady way of saying frisky; I am frisky.

Sigh.

al(l)ways

2010-03-02T21:11:00.000-08:00

We've already established that always is a promise aching to be broken.

A time-insensitive cage riddled with projection, razor wire and attachment, paving a long, rough road to inevitable disappointment.

A big, blinking lie.

And then it hit me: always is not the reckless temporal reference we assume it to be.

It's a spacial affirmation of every which way expansive awesomeness squared.

Always....al(l)ways...all ways.

I love you all ways, as in multi-dimensionally, atemporally, completely, truly,

deeply, up and down and side to side and around and around and back again.

Now.

Al(l)ways, I'm warming up to you.

discernment

2010-02-16T21:30:00.001-08:00

how do we "discern" without dissing?

please send clarity to words(r)matter headquarters. immediately. there are decisions to be made, boundaries to be drawn, and passive tenses to edit.

we heart you. every day. all ways.

tiger mountain peasant song

2010-02-01T21:55:00.000-08:00

oh-nine: an illustrated recap...episode 1

2010-01-04T22:31:00.000-08:00

it started off as a ritual, in which i honored the events and the energies of oh-nine and all it shared with me. three days later, it was a book - my first full-length graphic memoir, tentatively titled: "pluto cycle."

in the meantime, amalgamated pieces are moonlighting as blog entries - we can all play super awesome bestseller together.

constructive criticism (and hyperbolic praise) is (are) welcomed with arms wide open and tendon-sore from obsessively photoshopping my way into this decade.

happy new now.

love, dani

a little social program called "always"

2009-12-19T22:17:00.000-08:00

something dazzling this way percolates

2009-12-12T23:22:00.001-08:00

dear dedicated words(r)matter followers (all illion of you),

surprise! i've been on creative hiatus while moonlighting as an accidental chorus girl. that's right, in addition to weaving word wizardry and sketching photorealistic portraiture, i've been shaking my proverbial tail feather onstage with the Sweaty Sundays folks. between rehearsals, performances and mad dash drawing fits as i prepare for my impending art show (17 december at kara wily pilates on larchmont), i've been giving the blog a little breathing room.

it's good to take breaks, to step away from the natural inclination towards compulsive brilliance.

so, i'll just toss out some thoughts i've been playing with of late, and you can let me know how you feel about it all and we'll riff from there - conversation-like, minus inflection and eye contact.

social programs: which ones are you most jazzed to dismantle? send me your list - the lengthier, the better.

courage is sexy. i enCOURAGE its cultivation.

shamans aren't necessarily enlightened.

xx - this moment's awesomest band ever.

gender alchemy, authenticity, dreamtime downloads.

underwold allure and underwear aversion.

what's the difference between discernment and judgment?

doors open and doors close. there is only this moment now. tomorrow is a promise that never comes.

did i mention that xx is aural orgasmic awesomeness?

my computer acknowledges that awesomeness is a word, and yet denies the literary value in awesomest. curious.

the dreamtime already has me in its grips. stay tuned for cohesion and genius - coming soon to a words(r)matter blog post near you.

sweetest dreams to me and you and all of us.

love, dani

what if...

2009-11-22T01:02:00.000-08:00

The Mystery of the Ryans

2009-11-03T13:02:00.000-08:00

Ryans, Ryans, everywhere Ryans. They all came flooding in at once: heart-chakra Ryan of the infinite sparkle and the bubbling boogie-down dance happy her energy; fifth-chakra Ryan of the every which way expressive "all art, all the time" oomph, and of the awesome-est ever choreography that rocks my world twice weekly; second chakra Ryan of unforseen chemistry, those killer, killer hugs and the royal jelly hook-up; unchakra Ryan of Justin's meteor shower adventures and vague conversational mentions; and shamanic, mystical every chakra Ryan of sacred tingly stuff and heart and magic and now and yes.

Drenched in this onslaught of raining Ryan energy, I wracked the cavernous corners of my monkey mind: What's with the Ryans? What does it all mean?

I pored over the specifics with my favorite mystic, Justin, to no avail. I had a handful of Ryans, and no idea why.

I (sort of) surrendered to the mystery, (kind of) ditched the impetus to over-analyze, and headed up to Ojai with the Queen of the Tantric Sex Fairies, Jara, for some full moon hot springs action.

And it was there, immersed boobie-deep in sacred, sulphur-y water, beneath a blanket of moonlit star-stuff that Jara solved the mystery of the Ryans.

Of course! It's not only my favorite, synchronicity-laden, everything in it's right place constellation, but (AND) I'm reading The Keys of Enoch on Peter the sex shaman's orders AND the magical, mystical, secret mojo of Orion is all over that freakin' book, like Black Holes on the Alchemy Conference.

Mystery solved. Jara rules. Ryans rock.

"tenderness"

2009-11-02T11:55:00.000-08:00

While my neighbors reveled in various states of masked and inebriated Halloween folly, I sat in mediation for four straight hours, three of which I endured without shifting my position, straddling alternating bouts of excruciating agony and ecstatic bliss. When I emerged, knees throbbing, heart soaring, head tingling, all I craved was a loving hug. I limped my way into the bathtub, allowing the hot, salty, lavender-laced water to envelope me it's own warm, wet version of the embrace I craved.

And so, I found it fitting to be learning a routine to General Public's "Tenderness" in Ryan Heffington's Sweaty Sundays dance class the next day, receiving just the sort of energies I'd been craving by way of the boogie, and the tune we were jazz-squaring to.

While my right leg and foot were still numb from the evening's four-hour purification sit, my body was thrilled to be moving. We split into groups and spread out to rock the moves. Midway through the routine, I felt a sudden burst of sensation on the bottom of my foot. And suddenly, "tenderness" took on another meaning, entirely.

raw foot flesh against the backdrop of the day's Osho spread

oh, the graceful, delicate beauty of dancer's feet.

yup, words do matter

2009-10-21T18:13:00.000-07:00

a cluster of intentions, and my feet, which move me forward, towards the miracles i'm manifesting. plus, with my super-nifty intention buttons, i'm loving myself all the more with each and every step i take.

and then these words stumbled out of my mouth....

2009-10-16T19:01:00.000-07:00

When I wandered into the Skirball Cultural Center for my volunteer training workshop on Monday morning, I was still a bit wonky from Sunday's remote shamanic healing. Shaman Ryan, as I'll now be calling the bright-eyed magic man, helped me pull a jellyfish from my throat, and I awoke with a nasty, red welt on my chest from the procedure. Needless to say (as we've already determined that need doesn't exist, "needless" seems an appropriate segue, or is it just lazy redundancy? Hmmmm.....), I was a bit out of it when I joined a group of about thirty elders, all Jews, at the Noah's Ark volunteer training, where, in a month's time, I'm slated to be helping out in the children's art studio twice a week.

Kate, a serious woman with a shiny bob, invited us to go around in a circle and introduce ourselves, while explaining which animal from the Ark best represents us, and why.

I went second, and as such, had no time to plot my answer. Here are the words that spilled forth from my jellyfish-blurry mind after about half a minute of grunting and stammering:

"Um...uh...a leopard....because...uh...they play with their kill and like to take naps."

It's not surprising that I spent my snack time alone, now is it?

need: an inquiry in multiple installments...vol. 4

2009-10-10T18:04:00.000-07:00

need: an inquiry in multiple installments...vol. 3

2009-10-03T01:31:00.000-07:00

(some call it multi-tasking...i call it efficiency)

need: an inquiry in multiple installments...vol. 2

2009-09-26T23:28:00.000-07:00

for all of you out there in empowered languaging land: a quick and tidy follow-up to our first installment.

more to come...ever and

always more and more and more to come....

need: an inquiry in multiple installments...vol. 1

2009-09-25T08:24:00.000-07:00

which are more dangerous: words or actions?

2009-09-11T13:34:00.000-07:00

If you're interested, here is the link to the article that inspired tonight's blog:

http://blogs.laweekly.com/westcoastsound/last-night/billy-corgan-hotel-cafe-live-a/

At least it made for some juicy material, right?

Oh, the folly of being human....

the playa beckons; i am black rock city

2009-09-02T01:49:00.000-07:00

pay attention...

2009-08-29T16:27:00.000-07:00

loving adjusting my love

2009-08-28T00:08:00.000-07:00

expAND the efficiency of your words

2009-08-27T13:50:00.000-07:00

fair warning: i shot today's "tip o' the day" yesterday, before receiving my friend trevor's advice to "get outta the camera's face."

duly noted and much appreciated. thanks, trevor.

in the meantime, please ignore my tendency towards exaggerated expression, and hone in on the message AND let me know how it all sits with you.

yes, yay, yes...d

careful what you wish for...

2009-08-26T21:40:00.000-07:00

this is my lifestyle visioning board:

it hangs in my bathroom.

i love it.

this is my love visioning board:

it's rolled up in a basket on a shelf in a closet.

i'm not into it.

i put it together quickly, half-heartedly (ironically, enough), after an obsessive four-day, five-visioning board hole up. i'd barely scratched the surface of my love visions when it was time to re-engage the world, so i nabbed a chunk of the intentions off of a mind movie that had been making the internet rounds, many of which didn't quite sit right with me:

i am in love with my soul mate.

kinda makes it sound like we're relegated to one soul mate, which i don't believe we are. it feels weird - stuck, corny, old.

he brings out the best in me.

i bring out the best in me. sure, our dynamic amplifies it, and still, to say he does it feels disempowering.

my heart is wide open.

so much space between me and that wide open heart. in saying "my heart," i'm suddenly separate from this heart to which i refer; and then this other that is my heart is itself wide open. it seems like such a long way to travel when, the truth is, i am my every intention now.

i am heart wide open now.

i dig the images, and still, truth be told, the whole thing felt very old paradigm. it hung on the backside of my bathroom door and i was semi-embarrassed whenever i looked at it.

within days of posting my visioning boards, the manifestations started rolling in - a large cocktail ring from a friend, a weekend retreat poolside in the hills, lavish meals, creative opportunities, superfoods, and men - a bunch of 'em.

within a week or so of seeing one, in particular, i was floored by the intensity of what came up for me. issues around commitment and expectation and social conventions. while i was calling in a real-deal, true-blue love thing, my actions belied an attachment to my freedom and a deep fear of being vulnerable and of getting hurt.

i took the vision board down. it never felt authentic, rather filtered through the dogma-encrusted lens of social convention. and having been confronted with the ferocity of my own stickiness around intimacy, i'm choosing to examine the murky places where i'm full of shit before calling in the real-deal, whatever that means. when i do, i'll choose my words much more carefully.

...........................

on a related note, i had lunch with my mother yesterday, who was telling me about a wedding shower she'd attended. i launched into an inspired diatribe on the ass-backwardness of these unchallenged social conventions that require us to shell out for presents because joe and sue are erecting a fence around their love. happily-ever-after is not a paradigm i play in, nor a paradigm i acknowledge or wish to feed.

that's selfish, my mom said. you're selfish.

i think it's selfish to expect me to fly to mexico to watch you sign your freedom away, and then to attend not one, but two pre-nupital showers, which i'm expected to attend bearing gifts. and, not the sort of gifts that are a heartfelt expressions of what i'd like to share, but crass and calculated pre-chosen registry items that i'm required to purchase at a corporate chain. it's disturbing on far too many levels to elucidate here over steamed vegetables in hen cum (we'd compromised on chinese).

what about celebrating your friends?, she challenged.

what about it? celebrating is one thing. expectation is another, and it's a relationship killer - romantic, platonic or otherwise.

fill your own cup and buy your own kitchen accessories, i say.

why words (r) matter part 2

2009-08-26T17:47:00.000-07:00

why words (r) matter

2009-08-26T00:09:00.000-07:00

while words (r) matter goes audio-visual, there is still the matter of licensing rights.

please don't tell the rock stars.

smooth feet, reckless words and rippin' bass lines

2009-08-23T20:50:00.000-07:00

My favorite mystic came bearing gifts of quinoa and cacao. He channeled cosmic wisdom from the council of sacred alchemists by way of my big toe, told me my callouses were holding denial, and instructed me to get a pedicure. Immediately.

With my feet lookin' so fly, a night out and about with a handsome gentleman seemed about right.

His jacket was Watanabe, his bottom lip swollen from a morning collision with a bee's butt, and his languaging harsh and jagged. He called celibacy lame and spiritual men pussies. And while his words were reckless, I'm not clear that they were an accurate reflection of the energy infusing them; and I wondered how many people I brush off, discount or cast aside because of the words they use, words they semi-consciously choose, words they likely don't pay enough attention to.

We listened to a jumpin' jazz trio, dropped in on an Echo Park dinner party riddled with gluten and art-talk, and ended up at Pho, squinting beneath the glare of halogen horror over steaming bowls of rice noodles.

What is your biggest perceived obstacle?

He didn't ask much, but he asked...hmmm...interesting? hard? deep?

(yes, kind of, no)

I appreciated "perceived," and still...

I don't perceive obstacles, I said; and named a few things I'm currently shifting into: ease and grace, and a softer, more feminine me.

The words were plenty and half-hearted and circuitous; and the vibrations out of sync. I returned home, unclear as to the lessons embedded in the evening, utterly thrilled to cozy back up to my bass guitar.

as quickly as it began...

2009-08-15T23:41:00.000-07:00

i met k briefly at a gallery opening before talking with him at the boogie down dancing queen's "leos, leos, everywhere leos" birthday party friday night. we spoke about the rift between men and women here in los angeles, and our friend's sometimes tendency to speak so softly that it's difficult to hear her. i told him i'd read a book about energy bodies that explains low-talking as a specific personality type.

i received a message from him immediately upon accepting his facebook friend request saturday afternoon. the following exchange took place in about five minutes:

"voice"

k: So...what did Healing Hands say about low talkers?

d: it's an unconscious (subconscious?) manipulation to pull the other closer (energetically/physically) so that they can cord in to your third chakra.

make sense?

k: I don't know what the 3rd chakra is, but I have a friend who has espoused a similar theory and I always resisted it. Maybe it feels too devious to me.

d: it's unconscious.

devious is a judgment. it's manipulative. we all have similar issues on various levels.

it merely is.

k: i hate you.

on forgetting...

2009-08-11T10:18:00.000-07:00

when i forget to remember to pretend that i'm small and limited and that i don't know, my world explodes open in great, big bursts of electric, ecstatic, synchronistic yes, and suddenly i'm moving mountains and manifesting magic, and i'm smack dab in the middle of my biggest, brightest dreams come true.

as this eclipsing moon ripens...

2009-08-05T22:45:00.000-07:00

words, words, everywhere words.

i'm trying to let go.

i want to be more courageous.

we tack on extraneous words that push our intentions farther and farther away.

let's close the gap.

literally.

let go.

be courageous.

let's shorten the distance. let's annihilate the space between our dreams and our reality, our potential and our actualization.

time is a lie. nothing is going to happen in the future that isn't already happening now.

let our words reflect the magic of this moment, and all that we want it to be, which it already is.

let us master our chatter

2009-07-26T10:48:00.000-07:00

It takes 10,000 hours of practice to master a craft - any craft - be it playing guitar, calculating quantum theory, or sprinting the 50-yard dash.

The average person spends 1.5 to 3 hours a day talking.

We choose words all day long.

We speak them, we write them, we text them, we think them.

The practice of empowered languaging does not require special facilities, membership fees or protective headgear. It requires only an awareness of the precepts, and presence and practice.

We are poised to become languaging masters in this lifetime.

All of us.

When we choose our every word consciously, such that they empower, expand, inspire and uplift, while effectively reflecting our vision and our purpose, our lives shift in the most magical of ways, and suddenly we are living our every biggest, brightest imagining.

Now.

As long as we're creating our reality, moment to moment to moment to moment, let's make it a beautiful one, shall we?

a mid-week epiphany (we love those!)

2009-07-24T16:14:00.000-07:00

I was high up in the hills for a mid-week, mid-afternoon BBQ with two of my absolute favorite men, a sexy earth mama and my best baby friend ever. Earth Mommy told us she is teaching the tiny goddess sign language.

"Wow. Does she sign back?" I asked.

"No, she can't yet, " she replied.

I realized in that moment just how pervasive our human propensity is to limit ourselves, and each other.

I edited her words in my head:

She hasn't yet.

Better still: She will.

Holding the baby's feet, she cooed over her:

"You can't, can you? No, you can't. No, you can't."

I telepathically edited:

Yes, you can; yes, you can; yes, you can; yes, you can.

We limit ourselves all day long and we don't even realize it.

We create our reality. With our words.

We create our every experience. With our words.

This is not metaphor. This is not New Age fluff. This is fact.

A moment later, I asked my friend if he was still jonesing for a little goddess of his own.

He nodded: "I think it'll happen."

I silently edited his dream:

I know it'll happen.

Better yet: It's happening.

Because it is.

Empowered Languaging is the New Black

2009-06-15T15:18:00.000-07:00

Our words move mountains as easily as they sink ships…and empires…and paradigms.