connectedness

There was some point while J.Grahn was reading when I had the flash of connection of k3rouac going on and on about bones in the three stooges poem. "the neck bone's connected to the/head bone....the air bone's connected to the/GOD bone. the god bone's connected to the/BONE bone." or something. It was not directly what she was saying - maybe something in the rhythm or the phrasing where I heard an echo of that bit of kerouac.

So anyway. The L1lith festival was a little cheesy at times while also very lovely and positive. It reminded me very pleasantly of my old co-op. There were only around a hundred people. There were hippie-ass craft booths with rather nice things made of crystal and fancy yarn and beads and some really neat goddess sculpture things like cretan snake holding women. The preferred outfit was flowing cotton batiked skirts (a la Doss) or jeans depending on one's degree of butchness. I switched in the middle of the day when it got hot... There was (unexpectedly) no nudity - maybe if the bit of lawn weren't right next to a golf course and a public park trail? LOL!!! Dammit - when I think "feminists at a goddess festival in the country" I am for sure thinking "Boobies". But NOOOOOOO. Damn golf course.

It was a long drive, but fun with Doss as we both talk up a storm. (Books... writing... past relationships... her amazing stories...) I love her so!

Everyone was nice... friendly... I thnk it was weird for doss to be in a space like this and not be constantly recognized and Famous. i was glad to be with her during a moment of non-famousness and also to be totally unknown myself. it being a little scary the possible attention (though we both totally get off on the way the age difference freaks people out when we hold hands or i laugh evilly and grab her ass or something and then the suddenly realize... the age diff has its problems, such as being in totally different places in life and wanting to do different things 12 years ago or so. but the constant transgression can be fun if you are exhibitionists. it's not like we were making out all over the place... )

There was a labyrinth painted on the dry grass with spray paint and people were somewhat solemnly and reverently walking around it, being meaningful in the middle. (I did this later and have a funny story about it).

Aside from the poetry I will say that the story with the bunnies and the horrible pun was very good. I just didn't expect to be told a goddess-parable sort of thing by a jolly santeria priestess professional storyteller and then for it to all be about a quite dorky and silly pun.

I loathe it when public speakers try to make there be "audience participation" in some horrid way where you have to chant something. It could be okay once in a while, but every time - and then sometimes endlesssly. It is even worse when I am expected to stand up and move around. There are only so many times I can chant/sing "my body is the temple of the goddess" with a bunch of other white chicks in a while doing an inept hula move. It has a dreary Protestant quality to it. Bonus yuck points for the chant being in some other language like tibetan or yoruban or hawaiian. I like to hear things in languages I don't understand, but not to chant them myself. I draw the line at "Om" or maybe "Om mane padme om" or some other short mantra that my american mind can grasp after it being explained. I am not talking about the sort of meditative practice Davee does - which I like and think is neat - really looking at a concept that is better expressed in some other language and using the dislocation between meaning in english and tibetan in order to understand something crucial. that is DIFFERENT...

However I tried to enter into the spirit of everything in a positive way.

The folk singer was super, super fantastic. I think Doss fell instantly in love with her. She was really charismatic and a good performer with a sense of humor - I liked her "If I can't dance i dont' want to be part of your revolution" song.

I'm going to have to skip a lot of things. I had fun whisking a baby away to let its sweaty, hassled-looking mom eat in peace and I amused that baby rather hilariously for a good long time and earned good karma. (How to entertain a 9 month old baby: they are Pissed Off because they can't walk. Take it around and show it everything and let it feel the textures of everything you show it. And tell it all the words for things with wild enthusiasm, as if you were helen keller's teacher who had just snorted a lot of coke. Then take off all your sturdy jewelry and bracelets and put them on the ground and then set the baby down so it can crawl to the things and grab them. Remove the jewelry from the baby's mouth. Repeat 1 billion times. demonstrate to the baby how you can bang things against other things and make a Loud Noise. )

I had fun meeting people. I bought a cool book with all these fabulous photos by tee corinne and jill posener. D. is in it.

giant "healing ritual" with a bazillion drums. i lay down for it but there were not enough healers so i got up and basically sat next to someone else and felt sincerely sorry for her pain and grief and laid my hands on her stomach while she cried and someone else was on her other side and 2 more people at her head and feet. It seemed to go on forever. I kissed her forehead at the end and hoped that was okay. there were a few minutes in there where i felt like i understood what was going on with her somehow and like i was definitely helping just by paying attention and feeling sympathy/empathy. when the drummers came and i thnk the nice and smiley grey haired woman was v1cki noble came, she really let loose howling and crying and arched her back like she was in labor. I felt a little bad I and the other women holding her nicely didn't know how to elicit this from her but i did my best and i think it was okay. she got it from the drummers, some kind of release from some kind of pain...

i then laid down on some other blanket which I became very familiar with in the next half hour. some very nice women held me all over in an affectionate respectful way. the one sitting at my head asked me what i wanted to work on or heal from and i incoherently babbled about wholeness, disconnectedness, neediness and grief for a minute until i felt like she kind of knew what my trip was. I then closed my eyes and cried for a while and this felt actually really good. I was getting to cry with attention without being annoying to anyone or threatening to anyone and without them trying to fix me or make me stop. The drums were very loud and people were chanting but the chanting was not Irritating in the least. sometimes someone was banging some sort of giant gong or drum right over my body and I was being shaken lightly by many people as if they were trying to shake me loose or get the ketchup out of the bottle without banging it too hard as it might glop out onto the plate if you did... i think for a while i was repeating some odd phrases like "to be sad you have to be angry" I felt really angry and really sad for a while. At some point I felt absolute trust and I really started crying for real very hard and thinking of some sad things which I won't go into right now. I have many to choose from, and I touched on most of them during that strangely infinite time of being shaken loose. I felt in some crucial way that I gave up control of myself or my emotions. I began to hyperventilate. But at the same time I realized there was no reason to lie there on my back. I gave up control in one sense but i still had volition and it was sort of floaty and fun to exercise it and move onto my side and feel all the arms and hands of the women holding me adjusting to the new position i was choosing. Then I turned over with another giant effort of will to lie on my belly, which, strangely unlike real life, was not uncomfortable for me. I cried a whole lot and someone was pushing on my low back just like as if I were in labor, oddly, and it was very soothing and reassuring. I realized that just as it was important to give up control and still move, thus connecting my emotions and my body, it was also important to connect up my talking and all this; I realized i needed to talk. No one could hear me and I just talked in a normal voice into the blanket or the crook of my arm about all the things that made me sad and I sort of thanked a lot of things, like the blanket for being there, the ground and the dirt and the grass that I could feel with my hands if I stretched out, the wind on my skin, the nice people all around me. I said that it was okay to feel all this and that I could do it and could look at everything sad including the horrible photographs and the war and i could take it. and witness it. and be like a conduit. ( If this makes no sense to you, gentle reader, why are you still reading? ) I said a lot of stuff like that. Then I shut up and cried some more. After t his was over I felt really high and weird and peaceful. I am still sort of on that high. I feel really in touch with everything and like I understand everything about myself and can talk about anything.

It will be very helpful if i start trying to write that book I started a couple of years ago on How To Talk Dirty.

See, I told you that you should have stopped reading earlier...

the festival thing went back to being a little bit cheesy and a little bit great. Even at its silliest moments it was always sweet and people were just plain nice to each other. We all howled at the moon. There were some songs that obviously everyone else knew already so they must be part of some standard version of goddess worship or wicca or pagan-ness.

during the end ritual thing i had horrendous asthma from all the wildly irritating burning sage bundles that seemed to be Everywhere. As did D. so we were the totally inappropriate coughing people in the corner the whole time. D. also freaking that some major part of the ritual also involved roses and she is allergic to them and so couldn't do it. she gets even more tense than i do about having to ask people not to do things that make her sick or cough. also something about the entire ritual made me TOTALLY have the feeling of wanting to laugh at a funeral i.e. to do or say the Most Inappropriate thing. I got some sort of instant temporary tourette's but managed to suppress it. I can't remeember now the really funny things I wanted to yell out in this circle ritual thing where people were yelling out their prayers etc. This was so heinous of me - as i had just had a really powerful experience etc. a few hours before in the healing ritual - but - there it is. I didn't do anything horrid though. I just thought it.