Eulogy

I’ve been asked by Betty, Kim’s mom, to express how deeply grateful she, and we are, that you came here today to share all of our love, and our sorrow.

I’d like to open with an invocation from my tradition which generates love and compassion: “May all beings have happiness May they be free from suffering May they find the joy that has never known suffering May they be freed from attachment and hatred”

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Kim and I used to giggle about people who got ordained out of the back of Rolling Stone magazine. I would always joke that “oh yeah, they’re a minister from that Church of the Brighter Light”. When I got ordained it was totally different. Well for one thing, it now happens over the internet. For another I fancied myself to be this really cool someone, who really should be officiating marriages. Cuz how much fun is that? I’m guessing that had I thought a little more seriously about it, or actually gone to a Divinity School it might have occurred to me that the not fun, flip side, would be potentially officiating at funerals, memorials and wakes. And it certainly never, ever, crossed my mind that the first one of such occasions would be the memorial for one of my oldest, dearest, friends.

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Kimberly - She had so many brilliant, jewel-like qualities.

Her mind was quirky, creative, quixotic. She could handle herself in almost any conversation - from the best way to get a really moist carrot cake, to the fine points of metaphysical philosophy, to teaching a kid some vital life skill like reading, shoe tying, or just the right spots to hang the decorations on the christmas tree. Had she had a meaner spirit, her sardonic wit and sly, charismatic laugh, could have earned her a spot at the Algonquin’s Round-table.

Highly intuitive, Kim could read other people, and their situations, piercing through facades and bringing to light underlying realities. And like so many of us, it was always easier to see for others, than to see oneself.

She was extra-ordinarily empathic. The worlds suffering was her suffering. She was always taking in strays. Of every race, creed, and breed.

Kim was generous to a fault. She used to literally give me the clothes off her back, by the armload. She was basically what we now would call my stylist when I was 18. Although I learned later that perhaps it was more Betty who was technically behind that, whether she was aware of it or not...

She deeply enjoyed the rituals around food, whether it be gourmet at The Earle, exotic like her favourite Indian food or just plain good cookin’ like a Manikas omelet or her Nana’s chicken and dumplings. Making and sharing it, trying new foods and recipes, going to restaurants to socialize with good food and beverages at the center, as well as all the traditional holiday feasts, even when she couldn’t fully participate, warmed her, cheered her, and nourished her soul to simply be around and involved in such activities.

She passionately loved art, and music, and books.

Theatre and movies.

Saints and sinners

Because most of all, Kim loved.

She constantly surprised me when she would offhandedly comment “well but of course I do love him - her - them” whomever. I thought that maybe this capacity she had, to love “sinners” just “not their sins”, was kind of foolish, and possibly, probably, dangerous. In reality? It was daunting. I was a little shamed by her ability to generate genuine love for people I considered useless, a waste of time or too big of a problem. She always ended our phone conversations with “I love you” or “I love you Laurie”. I, having grown up in a family that was never expressive in that way, initially would always awkwardly say “yaloveyatoobye”. It really took me a long time to learn to say, sincerely, with real feeling, “I love you too Kim”.

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Nowadays we’ve all been exposed to some Jungian psychology, often under the guise of new age philosophy, as Jung wrote compellingly of learning to live with one’s own shadow side. The ideas of having compassion for oneself, learning to understand and accept one’s shadow in order to become a fully integrated human is now a common and accepted methodology for becoming humane, forgiving oneself, and moving into balance.
What has not been quite so humanely articulated, written about, and subsequently served to us, the questing friends and families, is how to deal with the shadow in others.

We’ve been bombarded with some very popular theories of how to conduct our relationship to people who seem to want, need or to be under some compulsion to, live primarily from their shadow. We are told, and our own experiences frequently appears to reflect that, trying to help people who seem to be becoming lost there, is pretty much like shouting down a well.

We’ve seen talk shows, read books, and been immersed up to our eyebrows with the advices of mass psychology instructing us in methods of “tough love”, “codependent no more”, “dealing with toxic people” and other, sort of, one size fits all, approaches to these relationships. Realistically, these are likely to be some of the most complex and painful, intimate relationships we will experience in our lifetimes. These are the relationships that have asked us, and potentially will continue to ask, throughout the years, What if...? Why didn’t I..? And, if only...?

It’s no wonder that we’ll eagerly try out all these various techniques. When nothing else seems to work, when we find ourselves baffled, desperate, and really, very terribly, afraid, solutions that assure us that they are almost surefire are very appealing. Not to mention that if we don’t have some recognized theory or technique that we can claim to be utilizing, we ourselves run the risk of being socially and psychologically bullied, belittled, and labeled with some catchy buzzword which infers that as we are clearly not being part of a trendy solution we therefore must be part of the problem.

I don’t have any one solution to offer here. The problems are too complex, the circumstances too individual. But I have come to feel that the usual approaches of becoming insular, preserving our self above others, trying to remain in, or restore ourselves to, a pain free state are potentially not as helpful or as safe as some would claim.

We are come to this life to learn, and these terribly painful moments are some of our most defining, learning, moments. These teaching moments have the potential to become like fruits of the vine, with precious juices that blend together, and processed thoughtfully, carefully, with love and compassion for self and others can become a rather heady wine of a profound, personal, understanding of life, living, and death. Mark that it must processed carefully though, as any wine that is not lovingly handled can turn and become vinegar. Just as our love can turn bitter without that large dose of compassion for self and others.

I have learned maybe two basic things so far from my work with the dying, the living, and those balanced there, trembling, with only one breath separating the one from the other:

One is simply that no one can, or should, micromanage anyone else’s life or death. People need to make their own choices about their living and dying even if those choices bewilder us. All we can do is offer our very best and truest information to them and let them proceed to work it out from there.

Another is that - people do the best they can at the time, or they would have done better, period.

This is true of others, this is true of ourselves. Everyone here did the best they could in each moment. If there is something in your heart of hearts that whispers to you “I could have made a bigger effort, I could have tried harder, if only, if only.... well I’m not going to give you the easy task and tell you to just let it go, instead I will ask you to take on the harder but much more rewarding job of holding and remembering that feeling, in order to learn from it, so that another time you’ll be able to let it be the spark that ignites greater effort, inspires you to greater compassion, and subsequently creates one billion better moments, for yourself and for others.

20 Of My Favourite Words

1) Petrichor
2) Fantod
3) Mook
4) Jamoke
5) Kiki
6) Snohomish
7) Bazillion
8) Pot-pie
9) Bugger-all
10) Dazzle
11) Quincunx
12) Tambour
13) Xylophone
14) Liquify
15) Meddlesome
16) Mesmer
17) Incise
18) Sibilance
19) Eschew
20) Scrum

20 Of My Least Favourite Words

1) Oppressed
2) Hump
3) Poverty
4) Hottie
5) Coerce
6) Bowel
7) Clownface
8) Snot
9) Loogie
10) Rectum
11) Gaol
12) Arbiter
13) Linoleum
14) Paunch
15) Turd
16) CEO
17) Hole
18) Labradoodle
19) Jowl
20) Putrefy

13,313

I'd like to point out that on Friday the 13th that was my number of "visitors". How auspicious. Of course, if you're seeing this it's no longer true or relevant.

LFMCoF #20

There is a reason they are called “Passover Brownies”. One does not need to stop in the middle of mixing to search desperately all over the net for the original recipe to find the missing bit about how much baking soda or powder to put in.

Potty Mouth

I am become more and more convinced that the driving force in all societies pretty much boils down to who cleans the toilets and why. And as far as I can see most of modern culture has been a concerted effort by white men to yell “not it!” I used to think social order was pretty much driven by access to pussy but this theory has a correlation in that prime pussy is rarely found in the company of janitors.

Since it has been increasingly difficult to force minorities, women and subjugated cultures to do the deed I’ve noticed a new trend, which is to train “the mentally deficient” into this position. While on the one hand I think it’s great to provide job training for the developmentally disabled or persons with severe mental illnesses, I have issues with assuming that the scut work of society is the perfect niche from which they can can contribute. It’s a bit too “Brave New World” to feel really comfortable.

No one wants to be the “it” in this situation. So in the vein of “if they can put a man on the moon...”
If they can invent a self cleaning oven, why can’t they invent a self cleaning toilet?

Hail & Farewell from Stoners Blough

A founding member of the original swimclub died last week. Oddly he was the ex-brother-in-law to Michael Davis of the MC-5 and as far as I can tell they died on the same day, of the same cause.

We had chatted briefly a few times on Facebook but I had not seen him in person since the early ‘90’s, as he had become a determined left coaster and once my grandmother died I had no cause to go back to Seattle except that it’s one of my favourite cities. Too bad for poverty eh?

Randall was both my friend and my nemesis. He was scathingly brilliant, witty as shit, and at times completely amoral. He once framed me for a thief when he himself had been the thief. This has rankled in my soul for years, as I have done all kinds of things in my life but deliberately gave up thievery at a quite young age, as well as that I have a huge issue with stealing within the tribe. He had no such qualms at the time. And given the circumstances there was no particular reason for anyone to believe I had such qualms. I really felt the sting of that scarlet letter T within that community, still do, I just don’t wear it on the outside anymore.

But prior to, and even later after all of that, he was my good friend. Early on he was my housemate for awhile. We had such a blast. At least until he abruptly abandoned the house and his 8 foot boa constrictor there. Which having two very elderly cats and being really nervous of feeding a really hungry, really large, snake became a serious issue for me. Someone finally did come for her after I threatened to sell her.

Swimclub was where my memories of him shine. His humour, his magic tricks, his natty outfits, his ability to construct suddenly critically necessary things from weird scrap and “ordinary household items”, his willingness to go gonzo into any adventure that arose. He was, at times, truly a mesmer. When he was sharp, focused, playful, “evil twin Vic” he was terrifically fun. When he was “do what thou wilt shall be the sum of law” Vic, not so much. I’ve never been a Crowley fan and within that community his influence was seriously not helpful.

But the rage at the time was to live primarily from your shadow self. And there is some serious beauty in that realm. We were all so young, so lordly, so dead earnest about it all. There are winter shadows foreshortened onto glittering snowdrifts and long summer shadows on parched pavements. Many of us couldn’t or wouldn’t, make the journey into integration. And when looking at ones aging self, in the trophic light of the daily rat race it is not easy to keep that keen, sharp, edge of humour that helps keep despair squimped down to its proper supplicant position. So one lets go this time when Yama approaches, yet again, from behind the left shoulder. Why not? He is our old familiar after all. And who doesn’t ache for that moment of rest, and then another cast.

FOTO Credits:
#1 Unknown
#2 Christina LaNoire

Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto

Google-bot is my biggest fan.

Stella’s - Never Have Done, So I Must Be a Terrorist, List:

SPORTS

Never been to, or watched, a pro or college game, or event, of anything sports related

Never played an actual game of basketball, soccer or hockey

Never water-skied, jet skied or speed boated

Never been on a snowmobile

Never hunted with a gun or bow

Never purposely wore a teams colours

FOOD

Never eaten a twinkie

Never drank a slushy, icee or any similar beverage

Never eaten a convenience store “roller” dog or anything “roller”

Never been to a T.G.I.Friday’s, P.F. Changs, Cheesecake Factory, Hard Rock Cafe, Buffalo Wild Wings, Planet Hollywood, Del Taco, Kenny Roger’s Roasters, California Pizza Kitchen, Dave & Busters, Hooters, Lonestar Steakhouse, Marie Callenders, Tony Roma’s, Waffle House, Red Robins or IHop

Never had an energy drink

Never bought a box of Hamburger, or any other, Helper

SHOPPING

Never set foot in a Walmart

Never had a major credit card

Never bought a new car

Never bought anything that cost more than $500 dollars other than a car, a house or a computer

Never went to a mall “just to hang out”

Never bought myself a 12 pack (or larger) of soda

Never purposely bought a designer label item

Never bought/wore anything camouflage

Never owned a television larger than a 19 inch

Never owned or driven any recreational vehicle

RELIGION

Never been baptized, confirmed, saved, sang in the choir or been a member of, a christian church

ENTERTAINMENT

Never been to any Disney theme park

Never been in an IMAX

Never been to Florida or California

Never downloaded porn, music, or movies from the internet

Never downloaded anything illegally from the internet

Never double-dated

Never owned a Barbie, Ken or G I Joe doll

Never watched a single episode of Big Brother, Survivor, The Bachelor, Dancing With The Stars, America’s Top Model, The Swan, American Idol, So You Think You Can Dance, The Apprentice, Fear Factor, Wife Swap, The Amazing Race, Rock Of Love, The Biggest Loser, etcetera, etcetera...

HEALTH & BEAUTY

Never had my eyebrows tweezed, threaded or waxed

Never had my hair permed or straightened

Never tried or wanted, to “go blonde”

Never used Clearisil

Never purposely tanned

Never paid for a pedicure

Never had inserted, or used any, breast augmenting devices

Occupy Meals-On-Wheels! Re-post

So I have this dream... And it is not just that I would sell or give away breads and such. My dream is to start-up an independent meals-on-wheels program. With, you know, edible, actually nutritious, food. I don't know how it is in your community but here in A2, despite having some real money, a lot of really great and dedicated volunteers, and a partnering with U-M, they are sending out thousands of pounds of inedible, visually unappealing, patently institutionalized, and wastefully packaged, food. Every person that I have worked for that got meals-on-wheels usually threw away something like 10 lbs. (or more) of food a week PER PERSON! Styrafoam, plastics, and all of that sort of thing as well. It was dreadful to watch. But people who are food insecure, or unable to cook, will not leave the program as they are fearful that they might eventually need it enough to eat some parts. So I have watched it pile up in refrigerators and then get thrown out when the pile took over.

Anyway, it seems to me that a way to help solve this is to have a privately run program. So that someone would have the authority to say "we're not sending out any gross, institutional food". Have it be heavily soup/stew based, as nutritionally soup is a god-food. As well as that many of these potential clients (the elderly, the sick, the disabled) have various health issues that make chewing, swallowing, digesting, etc. problematic anyway.

The current program is so committed to meats as the primary protein source that they absolutely sacrifice quality to quantity and end up serving huge quantities of very disturbing, mostly inedible, meats from extremely dubious sources, what a waste! This could be managed much differently and still appeal to most folks who want some meat.

I am not completely opposed to some tinned foods. I have seen tinned peaches prolong life and the desire to live! I am not opposed to meat, I am an omnivore. I just think that with the dietary knowledge we now have that there has to be a better way to do a protein delivery system. That with the technologies available there should be less waste in packaging. That people who are struggling with food insecurity should have a resource that is viable, edible, nutritious, enjoyable, a source of pleasure, something to look forward to instead of being burdensome and guilt inducing because one wants some security but simply cannot physically or emotionally partake of most of what is given.

Occupy Meals-on-Wheels! That is my goal.