Friday, July 21, 2006

a little pungent. and a request.

Dear Blue Cheesers.

Your reactions to the last cheese have been varied. All sweet, and true, and loving, but my goodness, varied. As you know, the cheese is meant to be infrequent, but this time i feel i owe you an explanation for any misunderstandings of my over-pungent extra-sharp cheese. or, whatever, i feel i want to give you one. If you feel you don't want to read it, skip down to below the asterisks for the favor I'd like to ask you.

Imagine I was approaching a door, slightly ajar, that had a bucket of colder-than-liquid-nitrogen crystal water balanced on it. I became aware of this, but continued towards it anyway, (either deliberately, or inevitably, depending on how you look at it), preparing myself for the drench, knowing that I could recieve it either as a blessing or a curse, a cleansing or a shrivelling, and hoping I would have the strength to choose the right one. As I pushed the door open and the water hung above me for a breath, I spun around my center, and when it fell on my poor tender head and poured down my neuroses of matter-flesh, it flung off onto you, my poor tender dump-takers. I spun both to balance myself, and to share with you, my cosmic companions, this cold cleansing I received. Some of you understood my intent through my confusion and shared in the baptism of the Mundane Divine, but others of you are perhaps far enough from my space-time-body-mind coordinates to not exactly know where i'm headed, and therefore to not understand what spirit you must take my dumps in. You saw only the dirt that flung off me and didn't realize that the dirt was dissolved in liquid crystal that left me cleaner and closer to my Self. And you were concerned and sent me loveliness about not loathing myself.

Humph. As always, I began hoping I would be clear and concise and precise, but look what the cheese pooped once again. If you understood nothing of this, know only this:
I do not loathe what I am or where I come from.

I have very little room left in me for loathing of anything at all, so unrelenting is the love pouring in from the Universe. I do feel, have felt, guilty about being lucky, and I agree, guilt and inadequacy are silly things to keep around, but I assure you, they're on their way out, along with regret and judgement.

The folks working on our house are not hungry, their bodies are well, the work is not slavery, and the earth will survive the materials we are using/usurping. All is well. (Debbie. I most certainly do not feel superior to them. If anything, it's the opposite. Before you tell me not to feel guilty or inadequate about not having to work really hard to get food and housing and give my kids education, read the previous paragraph again.)

*****

Meanwhile, a request. September 11 approaches. A piece called Silent Seeds is coming together in honor of this event. I'm looking for Moments in the last hundred years (since Mahatma Gandhi first declared satyagraha in Johannesburg) of non-violent creative collective resistance. Examples of Temporary and Permanent Autonomous Zones. Anything that you might find in Yes! magazine, but even more global. The Chipko movement, Zapatistas after 1994, Detroit Michigan urban gardens, Paris 1968, Palestinian non-violent direct action, a small neighborhood event you took part in,...
If you dig, maybe you could send me Moments I might not have heard of. You could send me just a snippet, like, "Hey theres this town in Copenhagen that went free and made their own laws, go find out about it the hard way", or you could give me a detailed and accurate historic psychological description. Of course the second option would be awesomest, since it would save me precious time (i'm trying to have this done like yesterday. No. Last week. But at least before July 27)

And if any of you happen to know the email address for Nathan Matthews from Synergy, perhaps you could forward this to him and ask him to write to me from a damn replyable address.

Love. So much love.
Ammu Malavika Mali

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