Sitting on a Wall (Playing with Meditation Part One)

Wanna participate in a quick work-out for your imagination? Here goes: Picture yourself sitting on a wall. Okay, it's uncomfortable, but as a kid, you never noticed this, because from such a unique vantage point, you could see for miles and miles around. Now go back to being that eager little person who didn't mind sacrificing a bit of discomfort to gain an awe-inspriting new viewpoint... go back to the times when the state of your clothing (or what you wore) was someone else's worry. Sit there, feel the warm sun-drenched stones under your rear end, your legs swinging free, one on each side of the barrier and open your mind's eye real wide.

So what's on the left side of the wall? Green pastures, with farm animals grazing peacefully, or a beach party at sunset with the music blaring and lots of beautiful eye candy, parading their sexy grooves for your benefit. Hey, it could be a concert or a fireworks display. Just keep watching inside and let your mind surprise you. The longer you keep at it, the easier it gets. After all, your mind needed no lessons in learning how to dream at night. When you were young, it was very easy to turn a living room chair into a pony, so why did you stop staging your wishes within the arena of your eternally watchful soul?

Right side of the wall? Let me tell you what I found when I did this. A train station. Yes! And there was a train about to leave, and where it was heading.... I'll leave that one up to you. Trains go anywhere, when your thoughts lay down the tracks - over the ocean, through mountains, through the fiery and fearsome center of the earth. Once you teach your mind to travel, there are no limitations in where you can go.

Hope you indulged in a few moments of dreamy fun and feel invigorated by something too real to dismiss, something that happened nowhere except in the sanctuary of your own mind, and who's to say it didn't happen...

With a nod and a bow to my imaginary friend and accomplice.... (t.y.m.)

Persepolis

I liked the idea of 'Persepolis' long before I ever got the chance to read it. If you are unfamiliar with this amazing graphic novel, in brief it is the autobiography of Marjane Satrapi, chronicling her memories of growing up within the narrow restrictions of the Iranian Revolution. She shares her experiences in short, themed segments,inserting a lot of wry humor to soften the confusion of political turmoil, the emotional toll of exile and the hardship of homelessness in a foreign country. There is the absurdity of studying life drawing with a fully veiled model and the nerve-racking obstacle course of dating without attracting the notice of the
Guardians of the Revolution. This book opens a door to a secret world and through a highly expressive style, renders it easily accessible to the rest of the globe.

Audiences

A few weeks ago, I ran into someone I used to know from my days of playing in an all-girl metal band, and after we exchanged updates on musical activity or non-activity, gossiped a little about who made it, who didn't and why, I asked how he defines success. His answer: 'Success is an audience." Do I agree? Well, by that definition, nearly everybody should all be hugely successful, because thanks to social networking sites such as Facebook, Myspace and Twitter, we do all have our audience, whenever we want it. Some of us do not even realize how watched we really are. But, celebrity culture can be the most fickle of beasts. It does not like things to stay static. There has to be movement. Whatever is up there, must come down to keep its entertainment value. And the fallen still attract the ferociously hungry attention of all manner of vultures. So I amend. In my opinion, success is applause. At least I hope it is. And I hope that, whoever you are, if you are reading this, you may know the warmth of a few moments of genuinely heartfelt applause.

(And thank you Sean Mercer, for the thoughts you shared and the thoughts you ignited. It was good to see you again.)