Ranting Vs. Wonder

The one thing we all bear in common is our own uniqueness. Al Pacino said that, though his authorized biographer told me he never heard him say it. The media told me he said it. It left a lasting impression – I read this in a magazine at 14 and didn’t understand it but knew it meant something special. Still holds meaning for me, perhaps more than ever. To get to our own deep means to get to our collective whole where we meet.

Conditions supporting our individuality would necessarily promote freedom and trust in the unique expression of the whole that the individual is. Those conditions would include granting someone the being-ness to change. If one is going to transact with another in time and space granting that person the freshness of a new moment would be natural if it were your habit to be in a new moment.

More and more I appreciate the state of wonder. In that state new reality constructs are made possible to explore. When this state is present so am I. The body is soft and fluid. As I write, I am in the state of wonder about what is going to be written next even as it is being written.

When I am ranting I can’t be in wonder. I am shouting out my story. That’s just me. It might be different for others. I only have my own sense of what is real and true to go on. And based on that sense, when someone is ranting, I am being told a story in which I am not interested. Especially those same old stories about the same old stories.

We seem to be at endgame. I’ve had dreams of this time in my life, I now realize, going back many years. I wish to use the fact of my embodiment differently than what I’ve been told to use it by men throughout my entire life. Yes, men. I love them. But think about it – is this not and has this not been mostly a patriarchal dominant world for centuries upon centuries? Words and impressions coming to me about my embodiment in relationship to spirituality have come to me through male conduits or women living under the dominance of men. Yes, when it comes to spirit, ain’t no big gender thang, but just as soon as you start putting it into language to teach gender comes to play to shape things a bit. The Tao te Ching is perhaps one of the most feminine of the doctrines. “Return is the movement of the Tao. Yielding is the way of the Tao.” Translated from the Chinese, there is no gender distinction, and nicely, in Stephen Mitchell’s translation one will find passages evenly distributed with he and she.

Words don’t count from one perspective, and yet they do. Look at how long the words of Al Pacino have stuck with me. The many words and activity I’ve engaged in around those words relative to my development as a being have been influenced by yet more men. And that’s cool. I will admit at this moment even this communication bears that stamp. I am stammering – let me just say it.

I have to move with the change within. People are ranting about that.

Rants are ineffective with me. Old methods don’t resonate truthfully for me. I honor the place they have served in my life with gratitude. And with others they are effective, no doubt. But I have to admit where I’ve been sitting for some time now. I have family, and I feel there is something I am a part of that goes beyond family. Whatever that something is, it is not bound to one form. Some are trying to tell me, it seems, that it is bound to one form.

If you want to use an audience and media for ranting that’s your business. It makes me feel badly to see someone rant – badly for them. Interpreting my thoughts or activity in terms of your well established boxes is also your business. But I’m not going with it just because you have put me there.

Even under extreme circumstances as a child my move was toward community. Toward others. The grit of humanity. I hate some of the smells people can produce – that part sucks. Lots of stuff sucks about humankind. But I can’t dance with anyone else’s story anymore about how I’m supposed to interact with my body on this planet to live an enlightened life. All I’ve ever heard has come from the mouth of a man. Unless you are in a woman’s body right here right now you won’t know what it is to have heard only the voices of men telling you what to do with body/mind/spirit. I can’t help but wonder, if a man had the ability to bear a child, would they have chosen the words and methods chosen that have so cut us off from the wisdom of these bodies?

I don’t know, but I really don’t think so.

I do know my heart is deeply active in the movement that is going on and I  trust its intelligence.

There is a lot I don’t know, I know. I’ve made so many mistakes in my life. Yet no one else knows what is right for me but I. A conundrum, one that I can no longer attempt to solve in the way I have been trying.

My daughter once told someone at three that I just didn’t know what to do with all my love. Thank God I didn’t shove that experience into a box that disabled me from seeing it in wonder. There is so much of what I can only describe as love that blasts through my chest sometimes I can hardly breathe. It may start as a point of light, but it expands out to include all. I’m going with this. I have to. It has to move where it’s going – that simple. If you need to hate me or call me names, okay. That’s not what’s happening here – in fact if you wanted to know what was happening here, all you would need to do is ask. Shouting out your story about me, I will figure you are too busy to bother listening.


About gracekellyrivera

I am a perfumer and an artist of multiple disciplines located in California.
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