The greatest gift to yourself is to accept, receive, and share the inner gift within to others.
Upon that realization, I came to the conclusion that as passionate I am about acting and performing, I really shortchanged myself by declaring that "I am an actor/performer/writer."
I'm much more than that.
I don't like the term "divine" so much because I found that word to be overly cliched and quite simply, overused within discussions of spirituality. I find it as overused and overcharged as the "G" word.
However, as a Divine Being, that's exactly who I AM. I'm unable to find others words to replace. It means to much to be a DB. But that's who I am in the purest sense. It's also who everyone else is in the purest sense.
Call it what you feel most comfortable calling Divine: "God-self, Higher-Self, enlightened self, spirit-self, blissful self, higher-power." That essence is not only our common-denominator, but it's what unifies all of us. Personally for myself, I prefer to use the term, "Imago Dei." (Latin for "Image of God") I learned the concept of Imago Dei within my Christian training, but I use it towards everyone regardless of their beliefs.
Going back to what I was originally going to say, by declaring myself as "JUST" an actor, or a writer, or a performer, or a public speaker really keeps me into this limited shield that prevents me from other opportunities. I understand that with most conversations, the initial question is "what do you do for a living?" That's when I trap myself by attempting to articulate an answer that'll make a favorable impression upon the person(s) asking me.
But answering in such a way does neither myself or the person asking any favors. I'm not answering from my "core." It's spinning an answer in such a way to make an impression. But doing so shortchanges everyone involved in the conversation, especially myself. The thing is, what exactly do I tell people when asked that question. I do work as an actor and I do get compensated for the work I do. Writing is more of a therapeutic tool for myself. I tend to be the public face for our performing martial arts group.
But it's still not who I AM. I AM that cliche: "spiritual being having a human experience." Just like yourself. Just like the idiot who waved the middle finger as s/he cut us off while driving. (Though admittedly I'm far from acknowledging their Divine at that moment!) We created a world that judges according to what someone does or doesn't do. We're not created to judge. We're simply created to just be.
Maybe this should be on my Faith Entry page instead.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Unoccupied Mind
I don't get it.
I really don't. I understand our 1st Amendment right to publicly assemble, to voice our opinion. In fact, I'm adamant about that right as an American, and oftentimes I don't feel like I fit in as an American. With this journey of pursuit of growth, I truly believe in the empowerment of everyone being heard and respected.
Which is why I don't get the Occupy Oakland movement.
First off, I'm impressed that so many people are able to "CAMP" out in Downtown Oakland for this amount of time WITHOUT ONE HOMICIDE OR VIOLENT ROBBERY. I've heard that a sexual assault occurred at one point, which is damaging to all those involved, but I really have to give kudos that for the most part, it's been relatively safe for those who CHOOSE to camp in Oakland. Bear in mind that the campers were living outdoors within the city limits of the Bay Area city with the highest homicide rate. In fact 8 homicides have been reported within the City limits since the camps begun. Why wasn't the "hood" occupied?
Secondly, as a native of Oakland, I'm very flattered that Oakland is considered to be part of the 1%. I've grown up with so much negative reaction over the years upon people learning about my origins. This and that about violent crime, political corruption, unsafe area, not deserving any type of professional sports franchise because of having a poor economy, ect. Now Oakland is currently a 1% target. Funny, I could've swore Oakland was so broke, they laid off quite a few police officers, firefighters, ect. So OK, Oakland is part of the 1%. Good to know, that way Oakland can "save" their exiting sports franchises: Raiders, A's, and Warriors. (Hell, if Oakland was part of the 1%, you'd think the Warriors would've called themselves "Oakland" by now instead of "Golden State")
I hear the frustration amongst the protesters about the economic situation. I've worked very sparingly especially these past two years. If anything I'm lucky to have worked a total of SIXTY days during the past SEVEN-HUNDRED-THIRTY. The thing is I know camping out and protesting does very little for me. In fact, I believe occupying anything would work against me. All this talk about 1% hoarding the wealth but you're taking down small business along with you by blocking and driving people away from the area. In fact, based on articles and interviews there's an unapologetic stance against the local business owners. All this talk about representing the 99% which these small business owners belong to, and you're deliberately taking them down? That sort of behavior is no better than the supposed behavior you're protesting against.
So the question again, why are you occupying Oakland?
Of all places. I can understand Wall Street where all the major commerce eventually intersect. Even the Financial District in San Francisco. Why not Washington DC? or Sacramento? Or even the IRS? But Oakland? Back up the folks already at the Federal Reserve in SF.
This game of entitlement is played out. Notice that I don't condone the police action. I learned early in life that if a pit bull dog chases me out of an area, even if I'M IN THE RIGHT, it's best not to "take back" the area where the pit bull is located. If I'm nursing a bite after my attempt to "take back" that area, I'M THE ONE WHO HAS TO ACCEPT RESPONSIBILITY for that bite. No one else.
OH BTW, please do not take up any causes unique to Oakland as justification for Occupy Oakland. That's utter bullsh!t. Honestly the majority of you occupiers in Oakland don't give a rats a$$ about the problems with Oakland. Otherwise why wait until Wall Street and San Francisco went up first? Problems unique to Oakland, such as homicides, police brutality, political corruption did not just showed up right after camp started in NY and SF. How about Occupy EAST OAKLAND then? Set up camp in the Havenscourt area. There are a lot of people in Oakland who are actually honest and hard-working, who's struggling as much as you are. In fact, they're NOT the 1% you're protesting. Yet, they received another unwanted perceptive "black eye" because of the ruckus last week. Do you really care about them? If you don't, then from a moral standpoint, you have no right to protest the 1%, cause in reality you're no better than them.
I really don't. I understand our 1st Amendment right to publicly assemble, to voice our opinion. In fact, I'm adamant about that right as an American, and oftentimes I don't feel like I fit in as an American. With this journey of pursuit of growth, I truly believe in the empowerment of everyone being heard and respected.
Which is why I don't get the Occupy Oakland movement.
First off, I'm impressed that so many people are able to "CAMP" out in Downtown Oakland for this amount of time WITHOUT ONE HOMICIDE OR VIOLENT ROBBERY. I've heard that a sexual assault occurred at one point, which is damaging to all those involved, but I really have to give kudos that for the most part, it's been relatively safe for those who CHOOSE to camp in Oakland. Bear in mind that the campers were living outdoors within the city limits of the Bay Area city with the highest homicide rate. In fact 8 homicides have been reported within the City limits since the camps begun. Why wasn't the "hood" occupied?
Secondly, as a native of Oakland, I'm very flattered that Oakland is considered to be part of the 1%. I've grown up with so much negative reaction over the years upon people learning about my origins. This and that about violent crime, political corruption, unsafe area, not deserving any type of professional sports franchise because of having a poor economy, ect. Now Oakland is currently a 1% target. Funny, I could've swore Oakland was so broke, they laid off quite a few police officers, firefighters, ect. So OK, Oakland is part of the 1%. Good to know, that way Oakland can "save" their exiting sports franchises: Raiders, A's, and Warriors. (Hell, if Oakland was part of the 1%, you'd think the Warriors would've called themselves "Oakland" by now instead of "Golden State")
I hear the frustration amongst the protesters about the economic situation. I've worked very sparingly especially these past two years. If anything I'm lucky to have worked a total of SIXTY days during the past SEVEN-HUNDRED-THIRTY. The thing is I know camping out and protesting does very little for me. In fact, I believe occupying anything would work against me. All this talk about 1% hoarding the wealth but you're taking down small business along with you by blocking and driving people away from the area. In fact, based on articles and interviews there's an unapologetic stance against the local business owners. All this talk about representing the 99% which these small business owners belong to, and you're deliberately taking them down? That sort of behavior is no better than the supposed behavior you're protesting against.
So the question again, why are you occupying Oakland?
Of all places. I can understand Wall Street where all the major commerce eventually intersect. Even the Financial District in San Francisco. Why not Washington DC? or Sacramento? Or even the IRS? But Oakland? Back up the folks already at the Federal Reserve in SF.
This game of entitlement is played out. Notice that I don't condone the police action. I learned early in life that if a pit bull dog chases me out of an area, even if I'M IN THE RIGHT, it's best not to "take back" the area where the pit bull is located. If I'm nursing a bite after my attempt to "take back" that area, I'M THE ONE WHO HAS TO ACCEPT RESPONSIBILITY for that bite. No one else.
OH BTW, please do not take up any causes unique to Oakland as justification for Occupy Oakland. That's utter bullsh!t. Honestly the majority of you occupiers in Oakland don't give a rats a$$ about the problems with Oakland. Otherwise why wait until Wall Street and San Francisco went up first? Problems unique to Oakland, such as homicides, police brutality, political corruption did not just showed up right after camp started in NY and SF. How about Occupy EAST OAKLAND then? Set up camp in the Havenscourt area. There are a lot of people in Oakland who are actually honest and hard-working, who's struggling as much as you are. In fact, they're NOT the 1% you're protesting. Yet, they received another unwanted perceptive "black eye" because of the ruckus last week. Do you really care about them? If you don't, then from a moral standpoint, you have no right to protest the 1%, cause in reality you're no better than them.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
RIP Al Davis
Wow, seems like this is the 2nd "RIP" entry I've done within a week!
What can I say about Mr Davis? I suppose I can share my first exposure and impression of him. I'll be honest to say that I did not see him in the most positive light. I was about 10 years old and my parents were irate over the fact that the Raiders publicly announced the news that they signed an agreement to move to L.A.
My father, grandfather and great-uncle, though not season ticket holders, would go to the game regularly. I was promised by them that once I reached the age of twelve, they'd take me along with them. Unfortunately the team had moved to L.A. A year after the team moved, my grandfather passed away.
So much for the grandfather-father-son bonding sports event.
At that time I also learned to read bumper stickers on cars and trucks. From 1981-1985, the most common bumper stickers seen on the back of vehicles all over the 510 area code (it was still 415 then) stated:
"Thank You Al! You SOB!"
That was my early impression of the man who recently transitioned.
I can tell you that growing up in a town like Oakland where a professional sports team left casts a shadow especially over those who remembered that a team once existed. Granted, the SF Forty Niners were becoming an 80s NFL dynasty at that point, and who could forget the USFL's Oakland Invaders? Neither team filled that void the Raiders left. Even though my father vowed never to watch a Raiders game again, I privately held an inner vigil at the possibility of a Raiders return. I followed every rumor about the dissatisfaction of the team in L.A. I may not have followed the games, (Kinda hard when NBC and KRON would black the games out in the SF Market) Hell, I remembered when the school district went on strike, it was revealed that the City of Oakland set aside a few millions in hope of purchasing the Raiders back.
In August 26, 1989 the Oakland Coliseum held an exhibition pre-season game between the Raiders and the then Houston Oilers. Game was sold out in less than two hours and the Raider rumors were in full tilt. For the first time in over ten years, I purchased Raider gear. From that point, I would possess a Raider item of clothing. My Raiders gear purchasing frenzy peaked at the news that the Raiders would indeed return to Oakland in 1990. The shirts would meet the scissors in September of that same year when the team announced that they were staying put in L.A.
I was cautiously excited in 1995. I would not wear any Raiders gear until the first game was played in the Oakland Coliseum. My father watched the game in utter disgust taunting me as a "sucker" if I decided to purchase a ticket to attend any of the game.
I did not attend any games until the Gruden years.
Yup, waiting three seasons before I went to my 1st game. My father scoffed at the idea of a PSL, and passed away less than a year after the return to Oakland. I became a devout Christian within The Salvation Army church in 1995, so my Sundays were "for God." In fact my only visits to the Oakland Coliseum since the Raiders return and before my 1st Raider game were for three different events: Promise Keepers 1995, Promise Keepers 1996, and the Billy Graham Crusade.
There was only one question I consistently asked about the Raiders and towards Al Davis over the years from the move to L.A. to now.
"WHY?"
Why did you leave Oakland when the games were sold out? Why was Marcus Allen benched? Why fire Shell the 1st time when he produced winning seasons, including one trip to the AFC Championship? Why Mike White, Joe Bugel before Gruden? Why trade Gruden? Why why why?
I'll never have those questions answered and people outside of Mr Davis' circle will only speculate, but that's all that is: speculation.
Don't know if the Raiders will remain in Oakland or not. In some ways I've outgrown the ambiance or lack of in the Raider Nation. It hasn't been that fun going to the games these past few seasons and it's not because of the losing record. When my elders attended the games back before the L.A. days, win or lose, they returned home energized. When I attend the Oakland Raiders version 2.0, I return home drained, lethargic regardless of the win/loss outcome. They just weren't the same Raiders of old, yet they were Al's team.
They're still Al's team. That's what makes them The Raiders.
What can I say about Mr Davis? I suppose I can share my first exposure and impression of him. I'll be honest to say that I did not see him in the most positive light. I was about 10 years old and my parents were irate over the fact that the Raiders publicly announced the news that they signed an agreement to move to L.A.
My father, grandfather and great-uncle, though not season ticket holders, would go to the game regularly. I was promised by them that once I reached the age of twelve, they'd take me along with them. Unfortunately the team had moved to L.A. A year after the team moved, my grandfather passed away.
So much for the grandfather-father-son bonding sports event.
At that time I also learned to read bumper stickers on cars and trucks. From 1981-1985, the most common bumper stickers seen on the back of vehicles all over the 510 area code (it was still 415 then) stated:
"Thank You Al! You SOB!"
That was my early impression of the man who recently transitioned.
I can tell you that growing up in a town like Oakland where a professional sports team left casts a shadow especially over those who remembered that a team once existed. Granted, the SF Forty Niners were becoming an 80s NFL dynasty at that point, and who could forget the USFL's Oakland Invaders? Neither team filled that void the Raiders left. Even though my father vowed never to watch a Raiders game again, I privately held an inner vigil at the possibility of a Raiders return. I followed every rumor about the dissatisfaction of the team in L.A. I may not have followed the games, (Kinda hard when NBC and KRON would black the games out in the SF Market) Hell, I remembered when the school district went on strike, it was revealed that the City of Oakland set aside a few millions in hope of purchasing the Raiders back.
In August 26, 1989 the Oakland Coliseum held an exhibition pre-season game between the Raiders and the then Houston Oilers. Game was sold out in less than two hours and the Raider rumors were in full tilt. For the first time in over ten years, I purchased Raider gear. From that point, I would possess a Raider item of clothing. My Raiders gear purchasing frenzy peaked at the news that the Raiders would indeed return to Oakland in 1990. The shirts would meet the scissors in September of that same year when the team announced that they were staying put in L.A.
I was cautiously excited in 1995. I would not wear any Raiders gear until the first game was played in the Oakland Coliseum. My father watched the game in utter disgust taunting me as a "sucker" if I decided to purchase a ticket to attend any of the game.
I did not attend any games until the Gruden years.
Yup, waiting three seasons before I went to my 1st game. My father scoffed at the idea of a PSL, and passed away less than a year after the return to Oakland. I became a devout Christian within The Salvation Army church in 1995, so my Sundays were "for God." In fact my only visits to the Oakland Coliseum since the Raiders return and before my 1st Raider game were for three different events: Promise Keepers 1995, Promise Keepers 1996, and the Billy Graham Crusade.
There was only one question I consistently asked about the Raiders and towards Al Davis over the years from the move to L.A. to now.
"WHY?"
Why did you leave Oakland when the games were sold out? Why was Marcus Allen benched? Why fire Shell the 1st time when he produced winning seasons, including one trip to the AFC Championship? Why Mike White, Joe Bugel before Gruden? Why trade Gruden? Why why why?
I'll never have those questions answered and people outside of Mr Davis' circle will only speculate, but that's all that is: speculation.
Don't know if the Raiders will remain in Oakland or not. In some ways I've outgrown the ambiance or lack of in the Raider Nation. It hasn't been that fun going to the games these past few seasons and it's not because of the losing record. When my elders attended the games back before the L.A. days, win or lose, they returned home energized. When I attend the Oakland Raiders version 2.0, I return home drained, lethargic regardless of the win/loss outcome. They just weren't the same Raiders of old, yet they were Al's team.
They're still Al's team. That's what makes them The Raiders.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
RIP Steve Jobs
We knew the inevitable when Steve Jobs made his announcement last August. (It was on my birthday, August 24 when the announcement was made) We had a suspicion that he was more ill than thought. It all came the day after his successor presented the new Apple items.
I'm not going to argue over how great a contribution Mr Jobs made not only to technology, but to humanity overall. That's been debated over and over on the message boards since August 24 of this year. I won't get into any debate over the definition of what makes a "hero." Within the context of Apple and the high tech industry, he's viewed as one. For those more military-minded, Jobs is viewed as a great innovator but not as a hero per se.
Any great contribution to society is heroic in my eyes period. But then we'd have to define "great," "contribution," and clarify who's included in "society."
So everything is debatable.
I'm typing away right now on my Macbook Pro which is 5 years old. (35 in dog years, 50 in tech years) I've owned 3 different iPods over that period of time. In spite of the announcement of the upcoming release of iPhone 4S, I've held off upgrading my phone this past 3 years on Verizon waiting for the iPhone release. There's no doubt in my mind about how much contribution Mr Jobs made in my life personally.
Today the world grieves over the loss of TWO great innovators and contributors.
As the internet and social media and mainstream media cover the loss of Mr Jobs, there's a second figure we must mourn over. For Steve Jobs transition reminds us of that second figure. In fact anytime a well-known public figure passes on, we recall the legacy of their contribution. (Side note: let us not forget the contributions made to the Civil Rights Movement by Rev Fred Shuttlesworth who passed on earlier today)
No, Rev Shuttlesworth is not that "2nd Figure" I'm referring to.
That Second Figure is the one who's regularly seen in the mirror.
For the past hour and a half, I've been bombarded with status updates and Twitter feeds about the great contributions made by Steve Jobs and I for one will not debate his contributions. His passing means he's no longer physically able to continue creating innovations and contributions. This past 24 hours before it was known about Mr Jobs death, there were unwarranted criticism towards Tim Cook for "not being Steve Jobs." Tim Cook has two main jobs right now: CEO of Apple, and Tim Cook. Let Steve Jobs rest in peace, let Tim Cook be Tim Cook, and let YOU be a GREAT YOU.
We shortchange ourselves in life when we believe we cannot make a significant contribution as a Steve Jobs or as a military hero fighting for freedom. In fact, we not only shortchange ourselves, but those around us. I know people will read this and say "yeah right. (Sarcastically) I'll be as great as Steve Jobs." I'm not saying that we all have the capacity to come up with simple, user-friendly, cutting edge technology devices, I'm saying that the greatness, the contributions within all of us can match and have as much impact as the great contributions made by him.
Mr Jobs passing reminds us of the greatness within each of us, and how we mourn not over the loss of our greatness but the fact that up until this point, our greatness has not outwardly lived. But the good news is that we need not mourn. While we take the time to mourn and reflect over Mr Jobs passing, we have the power to revive and resurrect our greatness. Whether it makes as big an impact as the Late Mr Jobs is totally up to us.
In other words, while we reflect on the impact Steve Jobs made, we overlook the great potential within us to make a dare I say, as great or even a greater impact. Mourning over that Second Figure is always a choice.
"Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything -- all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart. ... Stay hungry. Stay foolish."
-Steve Jobs, Stanford University Commencement 2005
I'm not going to argue over how great a contribution Mr Jobs made not only to technology, but to humanity overall. That's been debated over and over on the message boards since August 24 of this year. I won't get into any debate over the definition of what makes a "hero." Within the context of Apple and the high tech industry, he's viewed as one. For those more military-minded, Jobs is viewed as a great innovator but not as a hero per se.
Any great contribution to society is heroic in my eyes period. But then we'd have to define "great," "contribution," and clarify who's included in "society."
So everything is debatable.
I'm typing away right now on my Macbook Pro which is 5 years old. (35 in dog years, 50 in tech years) I've owned 3 different iPods over that period of time. In spite of the announcement of the upcoming release of iPhone 4S, I've held off upgrading my phone this past 3 years on Verizon waiting for the iPhone release. There's no doubt in my mind about how much contribution Mr Jobs made in my life personally.
Today the world grieves over the loss of TWO great innovators and contributors.
As the internet and social media and mainstream media cover the loss of Mr Jobs, there's a second figure we must mourn over. For Steve Jobs transition reminds us of that second figure. In fact anytime a well-known public figure passes on, we recall the legacy of their contribution. (Side note: let us not forget the contributions made to the Civil Rights Movement by Rev Fred Shuttlesworth who passed on earlier today)
No, Rev Shuttlesworth is not that "2nd Figure" I'm referring to.
That Second Figure is the one who's regularly seen in the mirror.
For the past hour and a half, I've been bombarded with status updates and Twitter feeds about the great contributions made by Steve Jobs and I for one will not debate his contributions. His passing means he's no longer physically able to continue creating innovations and contributions. This past 24 hours before it was known about Mr Jobs death, there were unwarranted criticism towards Tim Cook for "not being Steve Jobs." Tim Cook has two main jobs right now: CEO of Apple, and Tim Cook. Let Steve Jobs rest in peace, let Tim Cook be Tim Cook, and let YOU be a GREAT YOU.
We shortchange ourselves in life when we believe we cannot make a significant contribution as a Steve Jobs or as a military hero fighting for freedom. In fact, we not only shortchange ourselves, but those around us. I know people will read this and say "yeah right. (Sarcastically) I'll be as great as Steve Jobs." I'm not saying that we all have the capacity to come up with simple, user-friendly, cutting edge technology devices, I'm saying that the greatness, the contributions within all of us can match and have as much impact as the great contributions made by him.
Mr Jobs passing reminds us of the greatness within each of us, and how we mourn not over the loss of our greatness but the fact that up until this point, our greatness has not outwardly lived. But the good news is that we need not mourn. While we take the time to mourn and reflect over Mr Jobs passing, we have the power to revive and resurrect our greatness. Whether it makes as big an impact as the Late Mr Jobs is totally up to us.
In other words, while we reflect on the impact Steve Jobs made, we overlook the great potential within us to make a dare I say, as great or even a greater impact. Mourning over that Second Figure is always a choice.
"Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything -- all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart. ... Stay hungry. Stay foolish."
-Steve Jobs, Stanford University Commencement 2005
Friday, September 23, 2011
Uninspired Rut
It should be no surprise to anyone who reads my blogs on a regular basis that I've been mainly on hiatus or as my friends would declare, "MIA." It was no accident. The truth to the matter is that I have not been sharing ideas lately.
I simply didn't feel like my ideas would make any sort of significant positive difference.
I didn't want to bother.
While nursing a back injury and not being able to workout and do my physical activities that I enjoy doing, I began to feel self conscious.
My routine consisted of resting my injured back, and if I was lucky enough to be able to walk that day, find my way to Philz Coffee, grab my java, and sat in the back of the corner and read.
What did I read?
Lots of stuff from the New Thought pioneers. I'm a stickler about tracing "roots" of topics that I'm fascinated with. When I began that trek on personal development during my college years, I was only exposed to Napoleon Hill's book Thank and Grow Rich. A lot of the "Self Help" authors, inspirational and wealth seminar instructors all were influenced by the work of the early New Thought pioneers. New Thought got a "bad name," because 1) they were changing the status quo by questioning the then current practices and dogmas of the mainstream Christian churches and 2) their works were often misused as a means to create material wealth and business success.
As inspiring as the work they printed, I was largely unaffected and still within my dark corner. It was not the most easiest period to go through. The auditions and the work seemed to dry up, and I was unable to find work within a more routine setting. Add to that my current physical condition, and I was dangling from a single-layered inspirational thread.
Not that the coffee DIDN'T have caffeine.
There was simply no purpose or direction that I was able to come away with. The books and the authors often repeated in one way or another, "be still and follow your instinct." Yet after several futile attempts, I concluded my instincts soul purpose was to pull pranks and practical jokes on me.
For example, during a silent meditation in the morning, the thought "goldfish market" came to mind. Throughout that afternoon, I sacrificed my reading and java time to visit three aquariums. I left the third aquarium scratching my head in the most utmost confusion. What was the f*cking point to all this? I did my best to "follow inspiration and instinct," yet at the end of the day, I was really regretting not drinking my coffee for the day.
Does anyone really want me to blog about that crap? So sorry I haven't shared much. As stated, I'm sparing my public. I mean why would I blog about going to the aquariums to look at goldfish and leaving in a state of confusion because there was simply no point in going to the damn aquarium in the first place.
I'd type away about lion dance, however I've only participated in the capacity of the percussion section this past month. Nothing to see, nothing exciting. I could rant and rave about drumming onstage with inexperienced cymbal players who didn't play worth a damn, but if anyone was there, their ears would've figured THAT out. It's pointless to dwell on it. If anything about my back dilemma, it's a reminder that "retirement" from actually playing the lion is rapidly approaching, and that may NOT be such a bad thing after all. I'm at an age where I should be watching my little ones learn the fundamentals of the art.
Which leads me to the next thought. I know it'll be a challenge to grow up as my children, especially if they too yearn to perform. I'll be harping on practice, foundation, technique, practice, foundation, technique until their ears bleed. They'll most likely NOT want me to watch any shows with them. I tend to pick it apart.
I miss acting. It's not like I'm not pursuing it, it's more like I haven't really delved deep into a character's role in over a year. It's that studying the script and doing crazy fun exercises in digging deeper about his motives, objectives, thought patterns, attitude, hopes, dreams, even fears.
I keep on saying about my vision in creating this space: physical space with the purpose of creating connection, inspire, feed all mind body and soul, and express artistically. I handpicked three main locations to establish such a space: Oakland, Singapore, and a location TBA in Southeast Asia. Oakland because that place is so special though the mediots and the inhabitants may not realize the specialness. Singapore because from a spiritual standpoint, a space that shares the message of Divine unity with God and each other is so lacking there. As for the third location, I'm bouncing in-between Malaysia and the Philippines.
So yeah, this is what I contemplate during a rut...
I simply didn't feel like my ideas would make any sort of significant positive difference.
I didn't want to bother.
While nursing a back injury and not being able to workout and do my physical activities that I enjoy doing, I began to feel self conscious.
My routine consisted of resting my injured back, and if I was lucky enough to be able to walk that day, find my way to Philz Coffee, grab my java, and sat in the back of the corner and read.
What did I read?
Lots of stuff from the New Thought pioneers. I'm a stickler about tracing "roots" of topics that I'm fascinated with. When I began that trek on personal development during my college years, I was only exposed to Napoleon Hill's book Thank and Grow Rich. A lot of the "Self Help" authors, inspirational and wealth seminar instructors all were influenced by the work of the early New Thought pioneers. New Thought got a "bad name," because 1) they were changing the status quo by questioning the then current practices and dogmas of the mainstream Christian churches and 2) their works were often misused as a means to create material wealth and business success.
As inspiring as the work they printed, I was largely unaffected and still within my dark corner. It was not the most easiest period to go through. The auditions and the work seemed to dry up, and I was unable to find work within a more routine setting. Add to that my current physical condition, and I was dangling from a single-layered inspirational thread.
Not that the coffee DIDN'T have caffeine.
There was simply no purpose or direction that I was able to come away with. The books and the authors often repeated in one way or another, "be still and follow your instinct." Yet after several futile attempts, I concluded my instincts soul purpose was to pull pranks and practical jokes on me.
For example, during a silent meditation in the morning, the thought "goldfish market" came to mind. Throughout that afternoon, I sacrificed my reading and java time to visit three aquariums. I left the third aquarium scratching my head in the most utmost confusion. What was the f*cking point to all this? I did my best to "follow inspiration and instinct," yet at the end of the day, I was really regretting not drinking my coffee for the day.
Does anyone really want me to blog about that crap? So sorry I haven't shared much. As stated, I'm sparing my public. I mean why would I blog about going to the aquariums to look at goldfish and leaving in a state of confusion because there was simply no point in going to the damn aquarium in the first place.
I'd type away about lion dance, however I've only participated in the capacity of the percussion section this past month. Nothing to see, nothing exciting. I could rant and rave about drumming onstage with inexperienced cymbal players who didn't play worth a damn, but if anyone was there, their ears would've figured THAT out. It's pointless to dwell on it. If anything about my back dilemma, it's a reminder that "retirement" from actually playing the lion is rapidly approaching, and that may NOT be such a bad thing after all. I'm at an age where I should be watching my little ones learn the fundamentals of the art.
Which leads me to the next thought. I know it'll be a challenge to grow up as my children, especially if they too yearn to perform. I'll be harping on practice, foundation, technique, practice, foundation, technique until their ears bleed. They'll most likely NOT want me to watch any shows with them. I tend to pick it apart.
I miss acting. It's not like I'm not pursuing it, it's more like I haven't really delved deep into a character's role in over a year. It's that studying the script and doing crazy fun exercises in digging deeper about his motives, objectives, thought patterns, attitude, hopes, dreams, even fears.
I keep on saying about my vision in creating this space: physical space with the purpose of creating connection, inspire, feed all mind body and soul, and express artistically. I handpicked three main locations to establish such a space: Oakland, Singapore, and a location TBA in Southeast Asia. Oakland because that place is so special though the mediots and the inhabitants may not realize the specialness. Singapore because from a spiritual standpoint, a space that shares the message of Divine unity with God and each other is so lacking there. As for the third location, I'm bouncing in-between Malaysia and the Philippines.
So yeah, this is what I contemplate during a rut...
Monday, September 12, 2011
I Remember
September 11, 2001
It was my first experience working on a live stage production in the capacity as both a supporting role and as the assistant director. I was warned of "Hell Week" which is what cast and crew refer to as tech week. I was unprepared to the reality that "Hell Week" became literal.
Early Tuesday morning I was awakened by an incoherent voicemail sent by my director. I did not understand anything he said except of the possibility of local San Francisco landmarks possibly getting attacked, and the final statement of "tonight will be business as usual, the show must go on. We'll work on lighting and scene transitions tonight. Make sure the entire cast is present." Afterwards, I received a couple of frantic voicemail and text messages from Singapore making sure my immediate family and myself were fine.
Confused, I turned the television on and saw images of the first plane slamming into the World Trade Center. I changed channels and saw that EVERY channel including MTV and ESPN was showing footage. My initial response was "what the f***???" Later on, images of the Pentagon and a vacant field where two other plane crashed appeared. It really felt like a science fiction movie. My next immediate thought was "I hope to Hell that whoever did this isn't Asian."
I was not born when Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, nor when Kennedy, Malcolm X, or Martin Luther King was assassinated. I joined a protest after the verdict of the Rodney King trail chanting "No Justice, No Peace." I was never prepared for the depth and magnitude 911 created for the entire world.
People who were around during the times of the assassinations of King, Kennedy, and X stated and concluded "things were never the same since then." In my lifetime echos of the same sentiment were loudly declared following September 11, 2001. It's been declared that "we could never go back."
Were we supposed to "go back," and if so, "go back where?" We were never meant to "go back" even if the events of 911 never occurred. So I ask ten years later, "go back to where?"
Do we want to "go back" to the days of our day to day living without color security codes?
Do we want to "go back" to minimal security lines when traveling via air?
Do we want to "go back" to being able to pick up loved ones directly from the gates upon arrival?
Me too.
Ten years later, I ask this question: "why NOT?" Who says we can't go back? We made emotional statements in the aftermath, "the terrorist can't and won't win. Freedom and Love will."
To me, when we "go back" I'll chalk that up as evidence that terrorism "lost."
I've stated this over the past ten years. The War on Terror is not a war we're meant to win. At least not by the way we're fighting it. The so called enemy is not a country, race or religion. It was and always been a state of mind within humanity. When it's humanity, that means it includes you and me. We are also not utilizing the right artillery in this battle either. The best weapon is love. Not the Kumbaya kind of love, not the love we declare when we're horny, not even the love that's used in a term or greeting like "Jesus loves you."
This kind of love is when you're able to look into the eyes of another person regardless of race, religion, gender, sexual orientation and be able to simultaneously see the image and reflection of two beings: yourself and God. That's the love that'll lead the victory march against terror.
Please start now. Ten more years is too long of a time to wait.
It was my first experience working on a live stage production in the capacity as both a supporting role and as the assistant director. I was warned of "Hell Week" which is what cast and crew refer to as tech week. I was unprepared to the reality that "Hell Week" became literal.
Early Tuesday morning I was awakened by an incoherent voicemail sent by my director. I did not understand anything he said except of the possibility of local San Francisco landmarks possibly getting attacked, and the final statement of "tonight will be business as usual, the show must go on. We'll work on lighting and scene transitions tonight. Make sure the entire cast is present." Afterwards, I received a couple of frantic voicemail and text messages from Singapore making sure my immediate family and myself were fine.
Confused, I turned the television on and saw images of the first plane slamming into the World Trade Center. I changed channels and saw that EVERY channel including MTV and ESPN was showing footage. My initial response was "what the f***???" Later on, images of the Pentagon and a vacant field where two other plane crashed appeared. It really felt like a science fiction movie. My next immediate thought was "I hope to Hell that whoever did this isn't Asian."
I was not born when Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, nor when Kennedy, Malcolm X, or Martin Luther King was assassinated. I joined a protest after the verdict of the Rodney King trail chanting "No Justice, No Peace." I was never prepared for the depth and magnitude 911 created for the entire world.
People who were around during the times of the assassinations of King, Kennedy, and X stated and concluded "things were never the same since then." In my lifetime echos of the same sentiment were loudly declared following September 11, 2001. It's been declared that "we could never go back."
Were we supposed to "go back," and if so, "go back where?" We were never meant to "go back" even if the events of 911 never occurred. So I ask ten years later, "go back to where?"
Do we want to "go back" to the days of our day to day living without color security codes?
Do we want to "go back" to minimal security lines when traveling via air?
Do we want to "go back" to being able to pick up loved ones directly from the gates upon arrival?
Me too.
Ten years later, I ask this question: "why NOT?" Who says we can't go back? We made emotional statements in the aftermath, "the terrorist can't and won't win. Freedom and Love will."
To me, when we "go back" I'll chalk that up as evidence that terrorism "lost."
I've stated this over the past ten years. The War on Terror is not a war we're meant to win. At least not by the way we're fighting it. The so called enemy is not a country, race or religion. It was and always been a state of mind within humanity. When it's humanity, that means it includes you and me. We are also not utilizing the right artillery in this battle either. The best weapon is love. Not the Kumbaya kind of love, not the love we declare when we're horny, not even the love that's used in a term or greeting like "Jesus loves you."
This kind of love is when you're able to look into the eyes of another person regardless of race, religion, gender, sexual orientation and be able to simultaneously see the image and reflection of two beings: yourself and God. That's the love that'll lead the victory march against terror.
Please start now. Ten more years is too long of a time to wait.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Befriending Influence
I was in kindergarten when I began to comfortably make friends with other kids outside of my family. (Cousins within the same age range) Pre-school wasn't so friendly to me. My closer friends in kindergarten who lived nearby my childhood home was Mark Chan (of course not real name) and Trevor London. During summer break between kindergarten and 1st grade our weekday activity consisted of morning swimming lessons and stick-ball at the school yard after lunch.
Now it could be easy to state that my parents favored Mark because of the common ethnic background and surname. ("Chin" and "Chan" are actually considered "identical" surnames) That wasn't the case. It was also due to the fact that his father and my mother were themselves childhood friends. Favoring Mark and resisting Trevor's presence had to do with the overall perception of Trevor from the entire neighborhood: he was considered to be a "bad influence."
Trevor's reputation as a bad influence developed as he was the one who was kept after kindergarten class the most, and who received the most notes to take home to the parents. (I won the distinctive honor of placing 2nd on both categories) My parents received wind of our menacing reputation following an afternoon where we were both sent home from a PTA sponsored after-school event. (We both agreed at that time that no time was the better for "vengeance" against the mean, bullying 6th graders; so we pelted them with our snacks and drinks)
Any type of family get-togethers consisted of at least ONE conversation about how "Jarrett's friend Trevor, Ho Kwai Jai" ("Bad, mischievous kid") Then the discussion would shift to all the transgressions I committed since the last family get-together. Basically the message was clear from my parents to me:
My so-called "bad" behavior was a result of my friendship with Trevor
At that point in my life, my misbehaving and resulting punishment consisted of my parents attempt to disable all contact between myself and Trevor. Even when Mark transferred to a new school and was developing a new group of friends, my parents made sure I spent time with Mark. Hell, they even kept pushing me to hang out with the F.O.B. family across the street instead of Trevor much to my frustration as they didn't trust me for not knowing the Cantonese language, and I didn't think highly of them as they lacked English speaking skills.
I look forward to parenting while looking back at this situation. My parents were not aware that they were not only judging their son, but also programming their son to conclude he was a bad person. All because of a friendship with a specific friend. We all grew up with a friend who "was a bad influence." Hell, I admit I was sometimes "that friend" growing up. It's a part of the growing up process. My parents (RIP) did the best they could with the resources they had.
What bothered me the most about this situation was just the overall way it was handled. As I stated, I felt judged by my own parents because I felt incapable of picking good friends, and being a good person. If this so-called bad person was my friend, therefore (child's logic) I must be a bad person too. Secondly, I felt that my parents avoided responsibility and wanted to cast blame for my bad behavior. No child is responsible for another child's behavior. Just like no one adult could influence another adult without their permission. Granted, as a child, there's more of a vulnerable prone, and the parents to have the right to protect their child. It's just that protecting the child and casting blame on another child are as different as apples and oranges.
Trevor wasn't "bad" per se. He was simply someone who dared to take more chances and ask more questions the majority were unwilling to ask. I look back towards those days as days where I did my most growing. He introduced me to bands/musicians I never heard of, dared me to playfully harass the girls in our class, and do something anyways even if we were told not to.
What my parents viewed as "kwai" ("bad") I view as "coaching."
Now it could be easy to state that my parents favored Mark because of the common ethnic background and surname. ("Chin" and "Chan" are actually considered "identical" surnames) That wasn't the case. It was also due to the fact that his father and my mother were themselves childhood friends. Favoring Mark and resisting Trevor's presence had to do with the overall perception of Trevor from the entire neighborhood: he was considered to be a "bad influence."
Trevor's reputation as a bad influence developed as he was the one who was kept after kindergarten class the most, and who received the most notes to take home to the parents. (I won the distinctive honor of placing 2nd on both categories) My parents received wind of our menacing reputation following an afternoon where we were both sent home from a PTA sponsored after-school event. (We both agreed at that time that no time was the better for "vengeance" against the mean, bullying 6th graders; so we pelted them with our snacks and drinks)
Any type of family get-togethers consisted of at least ONE conversation about how "Jarrett's friend Trevor, Ho Kwai Jai" ("Bad, mischievous kid") Then the discussion would shift to all the transgressions I committed since the last family get-together. Basically the message was clear from my parents to me:
My so-called "bad" behavior was a result of my friendship with Trevor
At that point in my life, my misbehaving and resulting punishment consisted of my parents attempt to disable all contact between myself and Trevor. Even when Mark transferred to a new school and was developing a new group of friends, my parents made sure I spent time with Mark. Hell, they even kept pushing me to hang out with the F.O.B. family across the street instead of Trevor much to my frustration as they didn't trust me for not knowing the Cantonese language, and I didn't think highly of them as they lacked English speaking skills.
I look forward to parenting while looking back at this situation. My parents were not aware that they were not only judging their son, but also programming their son to conclude he was a bad person. All because of a friendship with a specific friend. We all grew up with a friend who "was a bad influence." Hell, I admit I was sometimes "that friend" growing up. It's a part of the growing up process. My parents (RIP) did the best they could with the resources they had.
What bothered me the most about this situation was just the overall way it was handled. As I stated, I felt judged by my own parents because I felt incapable of picking good friends, and being a good person. If this so-called bad person was my friend, therefore (child's logic) I must be a bad person too. Secondly, I felt that my parents avoided responsibility and wanted to cast blame for my bad behavior. No child is responsible for another child's behavior. Just like no one adult could influence another adult without their permission. Granted, as a child, there's more of a vulnerable prone, and the parents to have the right to protect their child. It's just that protecting the child and casting blame on another child are as different as apples and oranges.
Trevor wasn't "bad" per se. He was simply someone who dared to take more chances and ask more questions the majority were unwilling to ask. I look back towards those days as days where I did my most growing. He introduced me to bands/musicians I never heard of, dared me to playfully harass the girls in our class, and do something anyways even if we were told not to.
What my parents viewed as "kwai" ("bad") I view as "coaching."
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
A Voice
A short time ago, I came across a discussion amongst my friends who were avid writers. There was this author who took it upon herself to become a self-proclaimed advocate on behalf of the subjects she wrote about. Her justification for her decision was based on her own assessment that her subjects were "too oppressed weakened and devastated to vocalize their pain." While I commend her for her noble efforts, I found the reasoning to be a bit disturbing.
When my friend Bruce Reyes-Chow used to pastor Mission Bay Church, he'd consistently close with the benediction saying: "give voice to the silent..." My interpretation of that statement was a way to create an environment and empower those who are normally silent to be able to speak up for themselves.
Coming from the San Francisco Bay Area, there are a lot of interactions taking place which requires a need for a translator. If you were to speak or ask the person who's in need of a translator, they would rather learn the local language and not to place a burden on the need translating. Go to any English as a second language class and see the room filled. These new immigrants are so enthusiastic to learn our language so they can communicate on their own behalf. They're very aware that that is the price asked of them to pay in order to start a life here.
Yet, this author is speaking for a group of people because of their "inherent weaknesses." My question to this particular author would be what was the assessment procedure that she took in order to declare their apparent "muteness," or inability to express themselves? What would happen if one of the members of that group learned to speak for themselves and told her to "shut the f*ck up?"
Most importantly:
Do we have a right to determine who is capable or incapable to give a voice to themselves?
I'll agree with this author that her subjects were placed under very inhumane conditions. Very atrocious against humanity. However her conclusion of them due to their plight relegates them to additional victim-hood. The author speaks on behalf a a group of people victimized by inhumane conditions, not allowing them the voice nor the CHOICE to relinquish victim-hood. She said and published for them drawing a conclusion they may or may not attest to about themselves.
Speaking for someone else with your own assessment and conclusions does by no means, "give a voice to the silent."
When my friend Bruce Reyes-Chow used to pastor Mission Bay Church, he'd consistently close with the benediction saying: "give voice to the silent..." My interpretation of that statement was a way to create an environment and empower those who are normally silent to be able to speak up for themselves.
Coming from the San Francisco Bay Area, there are a lot of interactions taking place which requires a need for a translator. If you were to speak or ask the person who's in need of a translator, they would rather learn the local language and not to place a burden on the need translating. Go to any English as a second language class and see the room filled. These new immigrants are so enthusiastic to learn our language so they can communicate on their own behalf. They're very aware that that is the price asked of them to pay in order to start a life here.
Yet, this author is speaking for a group of people because of their "inherent weaknesses." My question to this particular author would be what was the assessment procedure that she took in order to declare their apparent "muteness," or inability to express themselves? What would happen if one of the members of that group learned to speak for themselves and told her to "shut the f*ck up?"
Most importantly:
Do we have a right to determine who is capable or incapable to give a voice to themselves?
I'll agree with this author that her subjects were placed under very inhumane conditions. Very atrocious against humanity. However her conclusion of them due to their plight relegates them to additional victim-hood. The author speaks on behalf a a group of people victimized by inhumane conditions, not allowing them the voice nor the CHOICE to relinquish victim-hood. She said and published for them drawing a conclusion they may or may not attest to about themselves.
Speaking for someone else with your own assessment and conclusions does by no means, "give a voice to the silent."
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