Naked and Tied to a Traffic Light in a Wind Storm

One of you once said that you wanted to see the naked parts. Another said you did not. Even though I know that you do. But perhaps not the naked parts that I am referring to here and now. We will not talk about those naked parts. Even though I have been pondering said naked parts a great deal as of late. Not merely my own naked parts. But the naked parts of others.

And I do not mean pondering the naked parts of others to mean what you think it means. Well. Not entirely. But I will not discuss that here. And now. That is not the point of this post. And good grief I have to be able to have a secret or two don't I. Right. I will remain tight lipped about said ponderings. They are dangerous and will only serve to get me into some sort of trouble. Or perhaps not.

So. Let me tell you what I do mean. I mean I have been pondering issues of the body. Representations have always been an obsession of mine. That and both the written and spoken word. Especially when the spoken word drifts over me in slow soft melodic tones with delightful words and phrases strewn together like music. Hint hint. Nudge nudge. In other words. Keep talking.

Do you see what I mean about the whole dangerous trouble thing. Sheesh. I tried to tell you. Anyway.

Uh. Right. The body. Images and representations. Identity and identifying. My dear friend Trouble (not related to the aforementioned danger and trouble referenced above) and I have been discussing these issues as of late. She is an amazing artist with more talent than I could ever hope to have. And she I believe may very well be obsessed with such issues as well. So it has been interesting discussing such things with her especially given the different forms of representational media we are currently immersed in with respect to this specific topic.

So. I have been thinking. Oh no. Here she goes again. Thinking. No really. I have been thinking. And maybe it was the wind last night. Storms put me in a contemplative sort of mood. I am saddened at the infrequency storms in this area. However. I do live close enough to water to get some decent storm action drifting in on occasion. And I am thinking that it is just about the right time to drive out to the Pacific. For the ocean always brings the most magical of storms. Storms. Storms of the thunder and lightening variety. One of the few things I miss about the east coast. Thunder and lightening. And Colony Pizza. NYC street vendor falafel. Lightening bugs. And a blow your freakin' mind art scene. Oh. And good public transportation. But that is pretty much about it. Wait. I miss the Franchina too. Yes my dear. I miss you.

At any rate. Last night was a crazy wind storm fog rolling in time in my neck of the wood.

As my house shook. And tree branches cracked and fell to the ground. I felt at home. At home in my own skin. And I always feel at home when the wind blows hard and the fog rolls in. But this was something different. And I realized something. I realized that everything is fine.

Funny thing to realize. But it is. Everything is fine. And actually. It is much more than fine.

So. I should say. Early-ish yesterday was semi-unpleasant. I have been worried about two lovely people in my life who are not doing so well on the medical front. And of course this is difficult for me because I have no control over either situation. Sometimes it is painful not to have control. Especially over such things as these. And with one dear friend I was reminded of circumstances that were unrelated to her but related nevertheless. I did not realize it initially. And then it surfaced. I saw her illness and it was familiar. Similar to something that fell into my lap many years ago in dealing with the illness of another. And I was forced to make difficult decisions. Decisions that I was neither ready nor prepared to make. Never feeling as though I was doing the right thing. I felt awkward. And alone. And I realized the similarities and knew that at least some of the residual yuckiness I was feeling was a physical and emotional remembering.

So after all of my obligations for the day were met. I went to have cocoa with a friend.

And maybe it was the magic of the cocoa. Or perhaps it was the compassion and wisdom of the friend. And I am certain that the wind and fog played at the very least, a small part in the process. But suddenly I felt as thought everything was fine.

But I said that I had been thinking. And what this post is really about is something simple. Intimacy and vulnerability. Er. Maybe not so simple. And I know that sometimes it is rather difficult to determine what the hell I am actually writing about because of my tendency to be vague and subtle in my statements.

I want you to know what I am talking about. But I do not want you to know what I am talking about. Because that might very well put me smack dab in the middle of some vulnerability. And it might be too intimate for me to feel comfortable sitting in.

But this post is different. So rather than merely write about such things knowing that some of you will see the hidden words within and others will not. I will simply state that I am thinking and writing about intimacy. And vulnerability. As the two are inextricably woven together with string and paper clips and glue and a bit of duct tape here and there.

If there was some generalized quiz about the ability to be intimate and vulnerable my score would prove rather pathetic. I am now admitting this publicly. Which of course means that I have completely lost my mind. But no one reads this shit anyway right. Er. Uh. Well. I guess some of you do. And I am doing this because I now know that I am not alone. Although sometimes it doesn't exactly feel that way. But I am trying to remind myself that I am not that special. And we all feel these things in various ways and to various degrees. And perhaps in saying these things out loud. We will all speak of who we truly are and others will hear. And we will all find a way to negotiate beyond these spaces into something more.

And let me also admit that I have many tricks to avoiding intimacy and vulnerability. Some are perhaps apparent. I know that there are some of you that I am not fooling as much as I would like to think I am fooling you. Other tricks are perhaps not so apparent. And some of these so-called tricks are actually lovely qualities if I do say so myself. And I suppose I can say so myself because I am writing this crap so if I want to give myself a bit of credit and a pat on the back I should. I mean I am pouring my freakin' heart and soul out here people. Sheesh.

Seriously. Let me provide an example. Some of you have found me to be a rather compassionate person. And do not scoff. You have said it. And not just when you were drunk. Or in a semi-comatose state. So let me say I am compassionate. I believe that I am. You can't convince me that I am not. Even if my patience sometimes wears thin. I do care deeply for all of you. Er. Some of you. You get the idea. But sometimes it is very very easy to tap into my compassionate side because in doing so the focus is removed from me. And I no longer have to share intimacy or display my vulnerability.

I have done this recently with at least one of you. Over a freakin' cupcake no less. And perhaps that is somewhat blasphemous.

And this is but one small example. There are certainly many more that I could provide. But you get the idea. And I suppose we all have reasons for being this way. Most certainly I am no exception. But last night I realized. At least a little tiny bit. That everything is fine. And that perhaps I could step gently into such intimacy and vulnerability without the fear of spontaneous combustion. Or maybe some of you could keep a great deal of ice around. And a fire extinguisher perhaps.

It seems quite simple doesn't it. Funny how the most simple of lessons are often the most difficult to learn and enact. Yes. It is the enacting that is truly challenging. Knowing is one thing. Enacting is entirely different. Indeed.

But we don't really talk about these things. Not really. Sometimes on the surface. And we never want to admit that we are messed up in any way. But I believe that it is necessary. Necessary not merely for ourselves. But for everyone. For in the re-telling we learn that we are not alone. And we learn that there are other human beans out there in the world that are ready to accept us for who we are and help us through the rough patches. Guide us through the dark scary places. And stand ready with a fire extinguisher.