It's been 3 months since my last confession...uh, I mean, blog post. I am still puzzled, ambivalent, and/or lazy about blogging's relevance. Is my life that interesting? Sometimes yes, mostly no.
Anyway, the coming holiday is a good excuse to write about greed/capitalism/desire/buying and such. It's a preoccupation of mine, in this life, it seems. I want, I don't want, I don't want or not-want. (that sentence actually made sense to me.) This is the human condition; but, this condition is transpiring in a context of predatory global capitalism. So, this already seemingly confusing state of affairs concerning my ability to be in touch with my own desires/greed is exacerbated by many external forces that seek to manipulate this situation. Ugh, what to do?
First, giving gifts to people you love is a wonderful thing, and having a ritualized time of year to do this and express our gratitude also seems like a wonderful thing. Second, the all-or-nothing approach is always a problem; maybe a fair trade gift or two, maybe a homemade card or two and maybe just cook your best friend a nice dinner for a present this year. (I don't have kids so I'm not plagued by kids desiring bad-for-the-environment plastic toys and mind-numbing video games). Third, what to do about getting stuff you don't want. I think it's better to give it away; somebody, somewhere might want it. Cluttering your house with things you don't love or need (some baseline feng shui wisdom) creates stuck energy.
And for some much needed spiritual inspiration on this subject, check out Reverend Billy's church of life after shopping...Peace on Earth, Good will to all...
Friday, December 18, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
51st post
This is my 51st post on this blog. I'm not a very consistent blogger; consistency has always been a problem for me. But, hey, it's quality, not quantity. All women understand this. And, so it goes.
It's Labor Day weekend and, like every day, I strive for less labor and, well, more livin'. It's sunny and beautiful and there are pockets of red/yellow/orange leaves establishing themselves in the sea of deciduous beauty that is upstate New York. We went for a purposeful though somewhat meandering drive today on the Taconic Parkway; my husband Ted lived around that area some 30-odd years ago, in another lifetime, in a farmhouse with some musician friends. He doesn't know where the house actually was and so sometimes we drive around and just explore and dream of days of hair down past his shoulders and hippies on food stamps and hash for breakfast (of a certain kind).
And, then we made our way to Tivoli, to Luna 61, an organic vegetarian restaurant, in a quaint little Hudson River town. We started our meal with a pumpkin muffin and a cup of organic decaf. The muffin with toasted walnuts was a thing of beauty. Ted had the pad thai (he can never pass it up, believe me I've observed the scenario many times) and I had the sweet potato enchilada. As we shared our treats, the former was definitely superior whereas the latter was most certainly not an enchilada though it did have sweet potatoes and had some good ingredients, but I wouldn't say it came together in any kind of transcendent way that I would have hoped for. Oh, and Ted had a fresh squeezed watermelon-apple juice with local fruit that was quite sensual. And, some chocolate chip cookies of epic quality that we took with us, to-go.
And, the trip back was not quite as good as the trip there, but not too shabby really. It's just a stuningly beautiful time of year to be alive.
It's Labor Day weekend and, like every day, I strive for less labor and, well, more livin'. It's sunny and beautiful and there are pockets of red/yellow/orange leaves establishing themselves in the sea of deciduous beauty that is upstate New York. We went for a purposeful though somewhat meandering drive today on the Taconic Parkway; my husband Ted lived around that area some 30-odd years ago, in another lifetime, in a farmhouse with some musician friends. He doesn't know where the house actually was and so sometimes we drive around and just explore and dream of days of hair down past his shoulders and hippies on food stamps and hash for breakfast (of a certain kind).
And, then we made our way to Tivoli, to Luna 61, an organic vegetarian restaurant, in a quaint little Hudson River town. We started our meal with a pumpkin muffin and a cup of organic decaf. The muffin with toasted walnuts was a thing of beauty. Ted had the pad thai (he can never pass it up, believe me I've observed the scenario many times) and I had the sweet potato enchilada. As we shared our treats, the former was definitely superior whereas the latter was most certainly not an enchilada though it did have sweet potatoes and had some good ingredients, but I wouldn't say it came together in any kind of transcendent way that I would have hoped for. Oh, and Ted had a fresh squeezed watermelon-apple juice with local fruit that was quite sensual. And, some chocolate chip cookies of epic quality that we took with us, to-go.
And, the trip back was not quite as good as the trip there, but not too shabby really. It's just a stuningly beautiful time of year to be alive.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Everyday Zen
I just finished re-reading one of my favorite books - Everyday Zen: Love and Work - written by Charlotte Joko Beck. Like any good spiritual teacher, she is relentless in reminding people about their/our incessant delusions and the need for personal practice and accountability. Nothing outside of us will make us happy or lead to enlightenment or freedom; not a guru, a job promotion, a personal trainer or internet shopping. I've tried all of them, and then some.
But, we can learn about ourselves by watching the machinations. Joko Beck reminds us about working with our life, right now. Everything is grist for the mill. There is no future when everything will finally be okay, just the stuff in our life right now - the dog barfing, the crick in my neck, the pile of dirty dishes, the paper I have to write.
The practice and intelligence of bringing ourselves back to the moment is, as they say, simple, but it's not easy.
We always try to set limits on ourselves by creating a structure, a story, an ideology, closing ourselves off from being open to everything that is really happening. These stories are so deeply ingrained into our neural pathways and sewn into the fabric of our families and society, that it seems impossible to shake ourselves out of them. When the stories override the evidence in front of us, what's happening right now, we have to let them go and pay attention; and act.
But, we can learn about ourselves by watching the machinations. Joko Beck reminds us about working with our life, right now. Everything is grist for the mill. There is no future when everything will finally be okay, just the stuff in our life right now - the dog barfing, the crick in my neck, the pile of dirty dishes, the paper I have to write.
The practice and intelligence of bringing ourselves back to the moment is, as they say, simple, but it's not easy.
We always try to set limits on ourselves by creating a structure, a story, an ideology, closing ourselves off from being open to everything that is really happening. These stories are so deeply ingrained into our neural pathways and sewn into the fabric of our families and society, that it seems impossible to shake ourselves out of them. When the stories override the evidence in front of us, what's happening right now, we have to let them go and pay attention; and act.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Voluntary Simplicity
After attending a workshop in Calgary, AB in early May on the Voluntary Simplicity Movement, I've been inspired to do some more reading and thinking about this subject. Important texts for the movement include - Duane Elgin's Voluntary Simplicity , Helen and Scott Nearing's The Good Life and Vicki Robin's Your Money or Your Life. The Nearing's story is pretty amazing; they left NYC in 1932 and bought an old farm for $300 in Vermont and homesteaded for 20 years; after lumber companies started cutting down too much of the forest around them, they would later move to the coast of Maine and homestead there for another 25 years till their deaths.
The chapters of the Nearing's book cover such topics as building a stone house, green house gardening, and composting. They were radical anti-capitalist, anarchist types who wanted as little as possible to do with the system and so became virtually self-sufficient; they didn't believe in domesticating animals and so lived as vegans, eating fruits, vegetables and grains that they grew and preserved themselves. They sold cash crops (maple syrup in Vermont and blueberries in Maine) to cover some of their minimal expenses for the things that they couldn't provide for themselves (e.g., concrete and nails for some of their building projects). They worked very hard 6 months out of the year so that they had leisure time the rest of the year to write, play music and eventually when they got famous for what they were doing, go on speaking tours to talk about their lives. What they did was so sane (though parts of the book give me the impression that they were slightly nuts).
The major premise of the movement is that most of us work long hours so that we can buy more stuff. If you buy less, you don't have to work so much and you have time for leisure, introspection, creative expression, and community. If we quit trying to impress people with the latest fashions, buying new clothes year after year, we could save a lot of money. Same with furniture, cars, appliances, electronics. I would assume that everybody would be interested in living a more inwardly and outwardly simple life, right? Maybe at some level we all would, but I think mostly that desire is masked by deep-seated narratives and practices about hard work, owning stuff, and a general cultural anxiety about leisure, quiet and slowing down. (The Voluntary Simplicity Movement is sympatico with the Slow Movement which praises all things slow - food, travel and every aspect of life imaginable).
I don't imagine that I'll ever live quite like the Nearings; my paid work is pretty gratifying and I think it helps the world, and I'm lucky for that. Plus, our land is so inspiring to us and to stay here, I have to make a certain amount of money to keep making the payments. The Nearing's work was physical - cutting all their own wood, building their own home and outbuildings, working a large garden, tapping maple trees for syrup, cleaning and maintaining their hand tools to sustain their work. How amazing to be in your body like that and to have a genuine experience of how energy works - physically cutting your wood with an axe that will heat your home all winter, every winter, rather than just flipping a switch to activate fossil fuels like we do here.
Simplifying is a very gratifying thing and when we find one more item on our monthly budget that we can slash, or something sitting around that we can get rid of (we just sold our pick-up truck and are now down to 1 car between the 2 of us), I feel lighter and happier. We've re-discovered our local library, ditching the addictive habit of buying the books we want in favor of sharing them with our community. We avoid buying breakfast cereal and instead make our own granola. These are small acts but they make a difference in the quality of our lives. The simple life is not only better for our selves, but it's better for the earth; it's fun too.
The chapters of the Nearing's book cover such topics as building a stone house, green house gardening, and composting. They were radical anti-capitalist, anarchist types who wanted as little as possible to do with the system and so became virtually self-sufficient; they didn't believe in domesticating animals and so lived as vegans, eating fruits, vegetables and grains that they grew and preserved themselves. They sold cash crops (maple syrup in Vermont and blueberries in Maine) to cover some of their minimal expenses for the things that they couldn't provide for themselves (e.g., concrete and nails for some of their building projects). They worked very hard 6 months out of the year so that they had leisure time the rest of the year to write, play music and eventually when they got famous for what they were doing, go on speaking tours to talk about their lives. What they did was so sane (though parts of the book give me the impression that they were slightly nuts).
The major premise of the movement is that most of us work long hours so that we can buy more stuff. If you buy less, you don't have to work so much and you have time for leisure, introspection, creative expression, and community. If we quit trying to impress people with the latest fashions, buying new clothes year after year, we could save a lot of money. Same with furniture, cars, appliances, electronics. I would assume that everybody would be interested in living a more inwardly and outwardly simple life, right? Maybe at some level we all would, but I think mostly that desire is masked by deep-seated narratives and practices about hard work, owning stuff, and a general cultural anxiety about leisure, quiet and slowing down. (The Voluntary Simplicity Movement is sympatico with the Slow Movement which praises all things slow - food, travel and every aspect of life imaginable).
I don't imagine that I'll ever live quite like the Nearings; my paid work is pretty gratifying and I think it helps the world, and I'm lucky for that. Plus, our land is so inspiring to us and to stay here, I have to make a certain amount of money to keep making the payments. The Nearing's work was physical - cutting all their own wood, building their own home and outbuildings, working a large garden, tapping maple trees for syrup, cleaning and maintaining their hand tools to sustain their work. How amazing to be in your body like that and to have a genuine experience of how energy works - physically cutting your wood with an axe that will heat your home all winter, every winter, rather than just flipping a switch to activate fossil fuels like we do here.
Simplifying is a very gratifying thing and when we find one more item on our monthly budget that we can slash, or something sitting around that we can get rid of (we just sold our pick-up truck and are now down to 1 car between the 2 of us), I feel lighter and happier. We've re-discovered our local library, ditching the addictive habit of buying the books we want in favor of sharing them with our community. We avoid buying breakfast cereal and instead make our own granola. These are small acts but they make a difference in the quality of our lives. The simple life is not only better for our selves, but it's better for the earth; it's fun too.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Trust Women
Today Dr. George Tiller was shot and killed at his church in Wichita, Kansas. Tiller had been performing abortions for many years and was one of the few in the country who would perform late-term abortions when a woman or girl had but no other choice. In many cases, we're talking about 9 year old girls who get pregnant by their father or step-father or a married woman who learns at 6 months that here baby has not developed a brain. Over the years, he has been threatened and shot; he walked through countless picket-lines to do his life's work. It was not uncommon for him to have body guards to protect him. He was the number one target of the so-called "pro-life" movement (Orwellian discourse, indeed) which had its roots in Wichita.
As a Kansan who came up in the feminist movement in the belly of that conservative beast, this event strikes a deep chord with me. He was an ally, and he believed in the inherent dignity of this 50% of humanity we call women. I read that he had been seen wearing a pin that said, "Trust Women." He believed that women know their life situation, their bodies, their limits. What a radical and important sentiment; and yet he also went beyond bumpersticker politics and lived it; he walked the walk. And, he walked through fire to do the right thing. Of course, the people who have protested him and, likely, the man that used a gun to take Tiller's life, believed that they, too, were doing the right thing. This is a human riddle that I've yet to solve.
I never knew George Tiller, or his family, or his friends. Amidst their grief, they must be so proud of the courageous path he has paved. I honor his life today, along with all my sisters and brothers who work for the transformation of not just women's lives, but for all those human and non-human creatures that our culture views as dominat-able. May Tiller's life inspire us to continue the work. May we do the right thing, facing dangers in a way that begets love and dignity. In solidarity.
As a Kansan who came up in the feminist movement in the belly of that conservative beast, this event strikes a deep chord with me. He was an ally, and he believed in the inherent dignity of this 50% of humanity we call women. I read that he had been seen wearing a pin that said, "Trust Women." He believed that women know their life situation, their bodies, their limits. What a radical and important sentiment; and yet he also went beyond bumpersticker politics and lived it; he walked the walk. And, he walked through fire to do the right thing. Of course, the people who have protested him and, likely, the man that used a gun to take Tiller's life, believed that they, too, were doing the right thing. This is a human riddle that I've yet to solve.
I never knew George Tiller, or his family, or his friends. Amidst their grief, they must be so proud of the courageous path he has paved. I honor his life today, along with all my sisters and brothers who work for the transformation of not just women's lives, but for all those human and non-human creatures that our culture views as dominat-able. May Tiller's life inspire us to continue the work. May we do the right thing, facing dangers in a way that begets love and dignity. In solidarity.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Facebook Mind
Today I became a fan of...
lazy summer nights
snow days
and the spiciest salsa
money can buy
My friends know me well!
Same with the friends
of my friends
Martinis in Santa Barbara?
Thumbs up!
I don't think I want that kind of connection with my past
I don't think that person is well
She is obsessed with exercising
I always loved his wit
I never knew this side of him
My God, I miss New Orleans
Why did I ever move away?
It's Jazzfest time!
I'm so jealous
God, these people here suck
Damn, I wish I could delete that
I hope people won't misunderstand me
I'm much more clever than that
My religious beliefs are
"dancing in the stream" and
"floating like a cloud"
Do I want them to know my age?
I really don't think I know this person
Who is this person?
I would very much like to be friends with her
She hates her job
and had a terrible day
He is obsessed with posting links about robots
She thinks we are living
in momentous times
She is counting down the minutes
until 5 o'clock
And wondering what the French are doing
on this Bastille day
On the road to Utica!
Visiting the fam in Seattle!
Lovin' every minute of it!
Can't get out of bed
without her Starbucks
I didn't know she was such a corporate sucker
She should get a clue and find a local coffee shop
She was always a follower
Probably never had an original thought
Is it 5 o'clock somewhere?
He has got to get some sleep
I think some of those old faces are haunting me
We are in a conversation of sorts
Where is the avant-garde in this cyber-village?
I'm a fan of that lady's lipstick
She thinks a veggie corndog
might be the answer
He's just taken another quiz
and has learned something
important about himself
"Who knew that if I was a literary hero
I'd be Holden Caufield?"
Getting ready for work
Slipped on the ice
And fell on my ass. Ouch!
Get well soon
Dude, that sucks
How will this ever end?
Packing for a trip
Making dinner
Getting ready for the opera
Planting a garden
I think I am very clever
I'm too hip for this
I have a problem, I can't stop
Just got home from Tennessee
Missing the food in San Francisco
Dreading the dentist
Why is there a happiness narrative?
Why must people always be doing something?
Why do we have to tell everyone about it?
Americans share too many thoughts
Why must we narrate our lives?
I think we should hold our dreams a little closer
Last night she dreamed her hard drive crashed
There's not enough tragedy here
No, it's all tragedy
He says zany things
She is such a curmudgeon
That person should never have reproduced
That mind should not be replicated
She is training for a marathon!
lazy summer nights
snow days
and the spiciest salsa
money can buy
My friends know me well!
Same with the friends
of my friends
Martinis in Santa Barbara?
Thumbs up!
I don't think I want that kind of connection with my past
I don't think that person is well
She is obsessed with exercising
I always loved his wit
I never knew this side of him
My God, I miss New Orleans
Why did I ever move away?
It's Jazzfest time!
I'm so jealous
God, these people here suck
Damn, I wish I could delete that
I hope people won't misunderstand me
I'm much more clever than that
My religious beliefs are
"dancing in the stream" and
"floating like a cloud"
Do I want them to know my age?
I really don't think I know this person
Who is this person?
I would very much like to be friends with her
She hates her job
and had a terrible day
He is obsessed with posting links about robots
She thinks we are living
in momentous times
She is counting down the minutes
until 5 o'clock
And wondering what the French are doing
on this Bastille day
On the road to Utica!
Visiting the fam in Seattle!
Lovin' every minute of it!
Can't get out of bed
without her Starbucks
I didn't know she was such a corporate sucker
She should get a clue and find a local coffee shop
She was always a follower
Probably never had an original thought
Is it 5 o'clock somewhere?
He has got to get some sleep
I think some of those old faces are haunting me
We are in a conversation of sorts
Where is the avant-garde in this cyber-village?
I'm a fan of that lady's lipstick
She thinks a veggie corndog
might be the answer
He's just taken another quiz
and has learned something
important about himself
"Who knew that if I was a literary hero
I'd be Holden Caufield?"
Getting ready for work
Slipped on the ice
And fell on my ass. Ouch!
Get well soon
Dude, that sucks
How will this ever end?
Packing for a trip
Making dinner
Getting ready for the opera
Planting a garden
I think I am very clever
I'm too hip for this
I have a problem, I can't stop
Just got home from Tennessee
Missing the food in San Francisco
Dreading the dentist
Why is there a happiness narrative?
Why must people always be doing something?
Why do we have to tell everyone about it?
Americans share too many thoughts
Why must we narrate our lives?
I think we should hold our dreams a little closer
Last night she dreamed her hard drive crashed
There's not enough tragedy here
No, it's all tragedy
He says zany things
She is such a curmudgeon
That person should never have reproduced
That mind should not be replicated
She is training for a marathon!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Manatee/Humanity
Just returned from a weekend retreat at Zen Mountain Monastery at Mt. Tremper, NY, just down the road from us near Woodstock. Been wanting to go for sometime and hopefully my husband and I will go there again soon. I had the opportunity to do a "Dakini Poetics" poetry/zen retreat with my favorite poet, Anne Waldman, that blasted through the kleshas like a broken levee in the 9th ward. These "experiements of attention" were a healing balm for the mind of logos/critique that dominates my existence these days. Anne also gave a performance that was open to the community; a packed house of monks, lay zennies and Woodstock hippies.
Her new work - Manatee/Humanity - seems important to this world in ways I didn't know poetry could even be. After having an encounter with a manatee at a Florida aquarium, she vowed to write a poem about it, and it turned into an entire book length poem. These creatures have more grey matter than humans and have a mother/child bond that is incredibly deep; she explores this primal creature, giving it voice in ways that only she could.
Her new work - Manatee/Humanity - seems important to this world in ways I didn't know poetry could even be. After having an encounter with a manatee at a Florida aquarium, she vowed to write a poem about it, and it turned into an entire book length poem. These creatures have more grey matter than humans and have a mother/child bond that is incredibly deep; she explores this primal creature, giving it voice in ways that only she could.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Broken Silence and Lovingkindness
So, it's been months since I wrote. I am breaking my unintended silence. Don't know why I haven't written; been busy writing other things and generally running around going to meetings and preparing documents and sending e-mails and worrying about deadlines, I suppose. And then, there's the whole, "this blogging thing seems pretty self-absorbed" narrative that surfaces pretty regularly. It's the "twin cousin" of the "why do Americans think we need to tell all these boring details of our lives to everyone?" narrative. But, then, when I compare blogging to the inanity that Facebook can sometimes be, I can re-justify the blogging. And, besides, writing this feels good. And feeling good, well everyone likes to feel good. A meditation teacher of mine once said - "the body is always trying to get comfortable and the mind is always trying to figure things out." And, such is how it goes; and, there's never a winner in that sad game.
Which brings me to lovingkindness and forgiveness, a new diet I am trying. Forgiving myself and others and sending my wishes for happiness, health and freedom to myself and people near and far. And this cuts through most everything else when I do it and creates a little space in this mind that rattles. This mind that is fractured. Lovingkindness re-establishes wholeness/wholesomeness, a place beyond the pull of feelings and busy-ness. It takes me home.
Which brings me to lovingkindness and forgiveness, a new diet I am trying. Forgiving myself and others and sending my wishes for happiness, health and freedom to myself and people near and far. And this cuts through most everything else when I do it and creates a little space in this mind that rattles. This mind that is fractured. Lovingkindness re-establishes wholeness/wholesomeness, a place beyond the pull of feelings and busy-ness. It takes me home.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Didn't Know How it Would Feel
I didn't know how it would feel to have a book that I wrote in my hands. Reading and re-reading my favorite (and not so favorite) sections. It was a lot of work, I think it's pretty good.
It's interesting that I received it on Obama's first full day as President. This book about community organizing; a community organizer as President.
Somehow this clear, compassionate, smart self of mine overcame my little self with her self-doubts, anxiety, anger, full of foibles. And that's the message of the book too.
I only hope some people will actually read it; it could actually educate and inspire.
I'm thinking of my father today, gone many years now. I think he would have been really proud. I read a book about Cesar Chavez that was on his book shelf for a junior high book report; he had a picture of Kennedy in the living room. My father, who grew up poor in the South, who wanted something different from life. Wish I could call him on the phone today.
One never knows what the mysterious field of emotions will yield. Amazing.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Food=Life
I step into the taxi at Louis Armstrong airport on a Thursday afternoon. It's a big, old, smelly vehicle, but actually quite clean by New Orleans standards. I tell the cab driver to go uptown. His phone rings which means I am free of the burdens of conversations about New Orleans that would inevitably have taken place had he not been on the phone the entire trip. "Ever been to New Orleans?" "Yeah, I used to live here." "Oh really, how'd you do in the storm?" And so forth.
So, I was able to enjoy the 50 degrees of fresh air that was blowing through the open windows and free to take in the familiar sites, remembering. When we finally got off the interstate and the roar of high speed air blowing subsided, the substance of his phone conversation re-appeared. "And there were these big ribs that were so good. Woowee." Yes, back in New Orleans, where conversations about food may be more commonplace than conversations about the weather. (And there's a lot of very interesting weather to talk about.)
New Orleans is the place that awakened something in me when it comes to the appreciation and pleasures of food. Not that I'm in love with the traditional New Orleans foods per se; but, food culture, culinary heritage, food worship, food as religion, food=sex, food for food's sake. Get the picture? This is in contrast to a sign I saw in the Chicago airport advertising all the food on the go that is so readily available at airports (why do I feel so compelled to eat that crap?) The sign said something like: "Eat so you can get on with your life."
In New Orleans, eating is life.
And now, I go in search of the perfect cup of coffee, which will not be hard to find...
So, I was able to enjoy the 50 degrees of fresh air that was blowing through the open windows and free to take in the familiar sites, remembering. When we finally got off the interstate and the roar of high speed air blowing subsided, the substance of his phone conversation re-appeared. "And there were these big ribs that were so good. Woowee." Yes, back in New Orleans, where conversations about food may be more commonplace than conversations about the weather. (And there's a lot of very interesting weather to talk about.)
New Orleans is the place that awakened something in me when it comes to the appreciation and pleasures of food. Not that I'm in love with the traditional New Orleans foods per se; but, food culture, culinary heritage, food worship, food as religion, food=sex, food for food's sake. Get the picture? This is in contrast to a sign I saw in the Chicago airport advertising all the food on the go that is so readily available at airports (why do I feel so compelled to eat that crap?) The sign said something like: "Eat so you can get on with your life."
In New Orleans, eating is life.
And now, I go in search of the perfect cup of coffee, which will not be hard to find...
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Living Without TV
It's now been 8 months since I have been without television access in my home, a conscious choice my husband and I made when we moved to our new environs. That means no food network or travel channel or bravo(these are all supposed to be "enriching") or sporting events and all the other commercial business that used to fill, as my husband says, our "poor little brains."
There have been brief periods in my life where I haven't had television, but this is the longest in my recent adult life. It's amazing to me just what a radical act it has been. It seems to me to be one of the best things a person can do to help this planet, to change human/social consciousness. It means not having to be inundated with: advertising; shameless capitalist product placement; racist and sexist narratives; images of a hyperactive, over-caffeinated society; violence; cynicism; and the social construction of unnecessary needs and desires that harm this world in infinite ways.
Living without tv means reading, writing, listening to music, walking in the woods, cooking soulful meals, creating things, enagaging in conversations about philosophy, religion, literature, and politics with my husband, playing a game of cards, meditating, and just daydreaming or staring out the window.
I am not completely puritanical; I still listen to the radio, rent movies, and consume my share of internet time. But, I am free of the psychic burden that television, invented to manipulate my desires, perpetuates.
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