I often explain to friends that I fully matured at 12. Instead of a long and gradual process, my mind snapped into its current state at once, when I was playing on the concrete slab that was our playground in small town, Illinois.
Looking to find a date but can’t seem to entice a potential mate? I’m sure you’ve seen all the ads that promise to make you a dude/chick magnet, to have the object of your desire so wrapped up in you that you have total dominion over them, and the SEX! Oh, how great the sex will be in these fictional worlds of your reproductive dominance. I promise you all these treasures and more, with the same earnestness and sincerity of all those disturbing programs that somehow keep resurfacing year after year after year.
Except, as you’ve probably come to expect from me, I’m going to break it down in a way that seems too simple to be true. But here’s my secret: what I’m about to tell you actually works.
What is attraction? What is this force that powers computers and governs our scientific laws? What is the fundamental understanding necessary to draw things toward yourself and to push things away within the same breath?
While I tend to come down on the side of science vs religion, one thing religion gets right is its ability to narrate abstraction in a way that is deeply and personally meaningful to us as individuals.
During a gchat conversation with my lovely boyfriend, I stumbled upon this point. I wanted to share it because I think it’s quite nice.
No one can hold me accountable for my power. I must impose self-regulation or become saturated in the power that I have grown into.
I recently read an article about crying that brought to light an old point I’d cooked up. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to reframe feminine traits that the patriarchy has vilified. The subtle inculcations of at a male-based society can seem quite benign at first, then dastardly pernicious.
You’ll notice a comic with a Bukowski quote running along the side of this article. I read it once, long ago, before I knew what a Bukowski was or that he had such a stunning reputation for being an asshole.
In the great Internet tradition of being an asshole to an asshole, I’m going to pick on Bukowski a bit. But only a bit, I promise.
Our society spends a lot of time in a culture where we speak to each other silently. The difference between verbal and nonverbal communication has long been researched, but many studies still focus on face-to-face conversation. In the silent communication of IM, email, and texting, nonverbal cues are simply not present.
I often wrestle with the more spiritual aspects of reality. It causes me great internal frustration to see my friends and society at large discount spirituality in favor of reductionism.
My junior year of college, I wrote a sermon to give my church. It was a lovely little church called Lakeshore Baptist church, although they weren’t affiliated with the main Baptist association. The church was wonderful – a female pastor, progressive ideas towards ministry, and a fundamental belief in doubt being part of faith.
I find that one complaint always seems to wash up to my shore, like scraps of a boat once sank and churned toward through angry storms.
“You think too much.”