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December 17, 2000

Exploring Education

Educational Philosophies

            Philosophy is a fundamental part of being human.  It encompasses the daily questions and theories we ask and create in order to make sense and purpose of the world around us.  Each individual’s philosophy is channeled by the culture s/he participates in.  A pedegogs philosophy is an extension of their personal philosophy.  As “philosophy acts as the building blocks for the reflective practitioner,” it is through practice which the “philosophy of education is firmly rooted … .” (181)

            The first philosophy to be inscribed by Western civilization was idealism.  The dream child of Socrates and Plato, its major tenant is the search for truth through inquiry.  Given that matter is in a constant state of change and that the senses cannot be trusted, the only way to reach for constant truth was through the dialectic, or the agreed upon synthesis of two disparaging points of view through logical examination of each.  Through this dialectic dialogue, the movement towards the moral good was possible. 

            Educationally, Plato supported student tracking.  Those who were grounded in the material world “should assume roles necessary for the maintenance of the city-state … .” (183)  Those who could grasp the higher principles of idealism were to become the rulers.  It was Plato’s belief that these philosopher-kings “would lead the state to discover the ultimate good”, making them “individuals of thought, action and obligation.” (183)

Educational pedagogic idealism seeks to encourage individuals to find their own truths, take responsibility for their ideas through imparting them to others to aid in their enlightenment and transformation.  It is not a selfish search for the truth but one to be shared once reached.   The teacher’s main responsibility is to “analyze and discuss ideas with students in order for students to move to new levels of awareness” and ultimately, transformation.  (184)  The teacher achieves this through discussions, questions and elicitation.  Some methods applied are the application of dialectic discussions to current social issues through individual or group projects.  The curriculum idealistic teachers support include the study of the classics for all students and a back-to-basics system.

Existentialism and phenomenology are more recent philosophies dating back to the nineteen hundreds.  Kierkegaard, Buber, Jasper, Sartre and Greene were all proponents of existentialism.  Husserl, Heidegger and Merleau-Ponty developed phenomenology. 

Existentialists are concerned about how their lives impact on the lives of others.  They believe that we, as people are here “alone to make sense out of the chaos they encounter.” (193) And more specifically, to decide for themselves who they are and what their purpose is.  They explore and achieve this through the choices that they make, analyzing their effects and choosing again (be it the same or differently).  It is the ultimate quest for freedom through taking responsibility for one’s actions and their consequences.   

Phenomenologists query how an individual’s consciousness, perception and meaning arise from personal experience.  They question how objects are perceived and ordered by people’s consciousness.  Hermeneutics is an offshoot of phenomenology.      

It deals with “how people give objects meaning.” (194)  Since language is the medium by which we exchange ideas and labels, language is inherently entwined in the process of making meaning.

            Both philosophies are extremely individualistic.  The goal of education would be to support each student’s cognitive and affective growth process through discussion of both the rational and irrational in the world.  In today’s society, of great importance would be conflict resolution and the resulting emotional turmoil caused by it.   

            Teachers must be introspective and acutely aware of their own “live worlds” if they are to help their students define, test and reflect on their own choices with which they will create their own “live worlds.”  They need to be risk takers open enough to share their own experiences in order to guide their students.

            Tailoring cooperative instruction periods to individual learning styles is the existentialist teacher’s methodology.  Learning is a teacher-student trip where each discovers or rediscovers knowledge in a nonthreatening way.  “Together they come to an understanding of past, present and future … ripe with possibilities.” (194)

            The preferred curriculum would stress the humanities, especially literature, given their ability to evoke intense personal responses, which could move them towards higher levels of awareness.   

            Karl Marx begat Neo-Marxism based on his economic and philosophic ideas.  He believed capitalist societies used education to reinforce their economic ideology of inequality whereas Marx believed the true goal of education was to “demystify this ideology and become agents of radical educational and social change.”  (195)   

            Marx believed that all history is the struggle between the dominant and subordinate economic classes.  The dominant class imposed its will on the subordinates either through oppression or ideology.  It was through the ideology tactic that Marx saw the chance for education to best fight the dominant class and its unfair policies.

            The goal of Neo-Marxism in education is to resist the reproductive theory of the ruling class.  For the individual to use his/her education as the tool which would allow him/her to “understand the weaknesses in the dominant ideology and to construct alternative visions and possibilities.” (197)  

            The teacher’s role is as a “transformative intellectual” who engages her/his students in a critical examination of society and its problems and then seek out new alternatives.   The teacher does this through dialectic discussions, analysis of specific social assumptions and guiding students to different possibilities.  The curriculum would be an open critique of the current society’s curriculum.  One where the current point of view is reshaped to be less biased towards the dominant class and power base.

As teachers, it vitally important that we identify our own personal philosophies of life and teaching if we are to best serve our students.  We must be introspective and circumspect as to what we believe, why we believe it and does it jibe with how, what and why we are teachers and teaching.  To be truly effective, we need to align our goals, roles, methods and as much as we can, our curriculum, to our philosophies.  Only then will we be truthfully awake in our own “live worlds” making the good choices and changes in the hopes of improving and enhancing our students, the system and ourselves.

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Love Released From its heartly confines Rejoicing in the adventure of expression Runs along the path To freedom Love Pure of intent Founders At the foot of the human carnivale Twinkle lights leading forth To the fun house experience’s maw Love Twisted In life’s mirrors Spat back out Known and yet unrecognizable Causing only pain

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August 21, 2017 Obviously, all of my feeling come from my perspective and so have nothing to really do with him. That was what I was trying to spare him from by not communicating. Next time, I’ll communicate that. It’s clear and concise with no emotional tones or spillover. Yes, I indulged my humanity. Yes, I reveled in my story. Yes, I chose pain due to fear. And that’s okay. I let my stories envelope me. I allowed them to whisper in my mind. I chose to play the game. Because I had a question and wanted an answer. I wanted my spiritual test. It started with an innocent viewing of a half million dollar home. I swear, it was 90% for the Center for Life Exploration. You don’t understand the vision I have. Hell, I don’t. I have an overview; with the Spiritual Center being the clearest at the moment as I’ve put the most focus into envisioning it. Point – I was trying to bring vision into reality, find out the questions and answers I’d need to think and learn about, while seeing what half a million could buy, the potentiality of lots, and enjoying looking at great big beautiful and yet completely wasteful unless shared, opened, and used to the benefit of the community, I mean WWWEEEEEEEEEEE! Fun stuff. But at a level I’m not ready for. Not even close. There is no magic spell. No inherent knowledge. You have to experience it. That’s the class system – at what level of monetary creation you have been exposed to. Rich people get to skip all the steps below. That’s what’s bullshit. And I’m not saying every one of them. I don’t know any to truly hold any judgement on the matter. You don’t see them around, though, if you get what I mean. I liked the people I met at the Ventana Staycation. I had a great time. It’s too bad none reached back out to me. Anyway, you, my dear, have to experience it for yourself. Take an idea and make it happen from the ground up. That’s what you’ve never done. The novel was too lonely. I didn’t have anyone to talk with it about. So, that’s what happened. I changed, not to my great pleasure, from wanting to be alone, do everything by myself, to wanting to share the process of creation. The lack of completion to date can be viewed not as failure to finish things you start (which really, there aren’t that many, jobs not included, ‘cuz I’m batting maybe 50-50 in that arena). I thought there was something wrong with me, with my abilities, but they were simply forcing me forward, as slow as I was to catch on. Now, I’m in FUN World. Where I remember it’s just a game that I’m playing against myself, with everyone around me having their part to play. It is my choice in how I want to perceive any encounter. I do bond too quickly for most people. I can’t help it. The more you know, the more interesting it is. But that’s me. I can see how that could come off as rather needy. I don’t know. I’ve never asked. Intense. Perhaps that’s a better word. Squirrel – Dipping down into full humanity is how I play my game. I can’t stay in FUN World forever yet. Don’t know that I’d want to. It down here in the aware emotions of pain and suffering that I find my truth reaffirmed. It is where I find my signposts and tests of my beliefs, ethics and morality come into play. That is the real battle takes place – between you and yourself and how much of your ideology, morality and ethics, and beliefs are you willing to violate to get what you want, to make the world conform to your desires – which are absolutely no more important or better, right, good, or than anyone else’s . However a person derives their code, those sets of experiences and choices is their ultimate right of choice (and from the highest level the experience you or I would have chosen had we experienced/lived that person’s life. We all really are doing what we were meant to do, the pain and suffering and need to make other people and this world bend to our will to spread our perspective like a virus (what every groups of individual people is wont to do by the way). Not one perspective is better or worse. It’s all a personal preference. Personal desire to create what we want, that which makes us most comfortable (the question then, to what expense? 1 person, 10, a million, the world?) How many perspectives must you assimilate until you feel safe enough? Life isn’t supposed to be safe. Death is inevitable. Yes, none of us want to lose our loved ones. Most are terrified of what comes next. Some preferences make some social situations less applicable to their perceived well-being. Those are the foundation of a person’s core personality or being. Everyone has a “right” and a “wrong” division. Those that don’t are mentally ill. Everyone else is on a spectrum. It’s time to regroup. That’s all. And redistribute. It will be okay. We promise not to rip your heads off, drink your blood, sing songs of hatred and abuse and curse you to whatever scares you the most, which is actually having to give a shit about our perspectives. You know they exist but you just don’t care because you’re thinking on global levels – well, you fucked that up as well. You are bad at your jobs. You are fired. But that has swerved in a political direction so, let’s move on from that. This could take a minute.  Section from AUG 17 ESSAY written today (Aug 17 section) In the dream, I was hanging with a couple, noting going on; they were kind to me, I had use of all of their facilities, but I didn’t consider that beyond an off-road vehicle that I would like to try. Point – we were cool, and so I wanted to make them breakfast, but suddenly everything went crazy. They left to do what they did out of the house, and I was preparing to leave, I was anticipating packing my car, and yet, making them individualized breakfasts, I guess as going away gift – then everything went wrong. The house hated me. A mattress hated me. I tried to banish it but the overall power of the house was to strong. There was no way I could win. And it just kept taking things from me. My parents. I couldn’t reach my cat. My clothes. The breakfast. My car. I couldn’t escape in the one thing I could always count on. (BTW my tire indicator came on today, FYI, I’d been thinking about it, but today, of all days. I mean, it was due, but really!!!!!) (Aug 21) And the wall tried to suck me in to eat me. The walls, floors, streets were twisted and roiling. Trapped in my car, viewed as through the lens of a Monet painting, I don’t know, the Starry Night guy with the comet, was that Picasso? (How sad, but you know who I mean so communication completed! Yeah for me!) Unable to escape, all of my possessions eaten by the wall, a curse placed on me, and my car turned into the mirrored innards of an eight sided die, I was tossed about, all control gone flipping and flopping against the hard glass, no longer in a painting but all hard iron and glass. And I awoke. And I knew I’d failed my spiritual test. My desire to force a favorable outcome goes against my code – gifts only. And I’d tried so hard, I mean, I really put my spiritual back into it. I have expended energy like that longer than I can remember. I really crossed my code – my moral, ethical and belief/spiritual choices that define my personal and only applicable to me, set of absolute judgements of right/wrong, good/bad, acceptance/fear. All ultimate dualities. And as I was looking for a test, there ya go, I got one, and I failed, but I apologized sincerely, yet was still mad ‘cuz it was only 10% about me, a girls gotta live, and not off her parents. I thought it was reasonable. I was wrong. Unable to leave it that way, I took a nap and I was rolled out into a nice world and all was forgiven, but that was their/my higher-self dimension, not down here in the mud, so I got pissed, both meanings. I cursed them back for their miserliness. I thought death thoughts. Then I had some cannasand and talked to Paul. And he cared. And that was all I needed. Just one. The next night was a fabulous dream of flying and reality jumping and enjoying the situation which was fun. So I knew that I had passed the following test to see if I’d actually learned anything. As Paul said, “there is always another test”. I don’t like wasting my time. So I took that experience along with Paul’s creating his own Meetup group as an inspiration to do what it takes to create the reality you want through forward motion, to set a date for the first Center for Spiritual Exploration (from her on out aka CSE) meeting. I was looking forward to sharing it and inviting him to help me out by participating, when the whole camping and movie meetup and having his daughter, situation occurred. I was curious to see how much of the Four Agreements he could apply to the situation. He used the word assume, so it shows awareness of his logical state which is effected by the emotional, and it was what it was. So, I’ve been binge watching The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, and as Paul and I are restoring communicational clarity, and Nina the neighbor in Unit 5 came over to introduce herself, Kimmy goes to church and the pastor’s name is Denise. Yes, I know that the use of my name is on the rise. So, as I’ve been having revelations and positive communications, I get a signpost/note/”hey”, a confirmation of the application of experiences with personal positive outcomes in a way that didn’t transgress my Code. It felt like a congratulatory, “you’ll get there, you’re on your ‘really cool’ path.” Not perfect, never perfect as goal, or you lose all chance of spontaneous authenticity; strive for your best each and every day, whatever that may look like that day. Lazy language allows more miscommunications. No amount of communal agreement can make you “right” when you go against Your Own Code.

[random0gener8r]

August 17, 2017 & later (21) To be human is to be a study in contradictions. What you need to understand, is that this is my truth. You will have your own. They may share parts, but in the end, it will be based on your life experiences and ideas. My truth will never be your truth; it can only be a guide. My process will never be your process; it can only show you that it is possible. I can never speak your truth, only my own; in hopes that it will inspire. In this spirit of understanding, I share with you my story. Adoption and independence Magic and religion Introversion and imagination Existentialism and teen angst/bag lady CannASand – Thank the God/sess for you I was heading for a dark place. My dream this morning was horrible/enlightening. I ailed my test. I used my power to try to win the Lott. Even for the benefit of others, I was completely taken in by the possible opulence and rich-iness of it. I wanted it for the greater good, and hey, if I get a nice place to live, well, fair fucks. It was wrong, it was bad, by my own definition – we ae all equal, no one deserves to live better than anyone else. There was greed mixed in with the altruism. Which is only my definition, not yours. In the dream, I was hanging with a couple, noting going on; they were kind to me, I had use of all of their facilities, but I didn’t consider that beyond an off-road vehicle that I would like to try. Point – we were cool, and so I wanted to make them breakfast, but suddenly everything went crazy. They left to do what they did out of the house, and I was preparing to leave, I was anticipating packing my car, and yet, making them individualized breakfasts, I guess as going away gift – then everything went wrong. The house hated me. A mattress hated me. I tried to banish it but the overall power of the house was to strong. There was no way I could win. And it just kept taking things from me. My parents. I couldn’t reach my cat. My clothes. The breakfast. My car. I couldn’t escape in the one thing I could always count on. (BTW my tire indicator came on today, FYI, I’d been thinking about it, but today, of all days. I mean, it was due, but really!!!!!) And the wall tried to suck me in to eat me. The walls, floors, streets were twisted and roiling. Trapped in my car, viewed as through the lens of a Monet painting, I don’t know, the Starry Night guy with the comet, was that Picasso? (How sad, but you know who I mean so communication completed! Yeah for me!) Unable to escape, all of my possessions eaten by the wall, a curse placed on me, and my car turned into the mirrored innards of an eight sided die, I was tossed about, all control gone flipping and flopping against the hard glass, no longer in a painting but all hard iron and glass. And I awoke. And I knew I’d failed my spiritual test. My desire to force a favorable outcome goes against my code – gifts only. And I’d tried so hard, I mean, I really put my spiritual back into it. I have expended energy like that longer than I can remember. I really crossed my code – my moral, ethical and belief/spiritual choices that define my personal and only applicable to me, set of absolute judgements of right/wrong, good/bad, acceptance/fear. All ultimate dualities. And as I was looking for a test, there ya go, I got one, and I failed, but I apologized sincerely, yet was still mad ‘cuz it was only 10% about me, a girls gotta live, and not off her parents. I thought it was reasonable. I was wrong. Unable to leave it that way, I took a nap and I was rolled out into a nice world and all was forgiven, but that was their/my higher-self dimension, not down here in the mud, so I got pissed, both meanings. I cursed them back for their miserliness. I thought death thoughts. Then I had some cannasand and talked to Paul. And he cared. And that was all I needed. Just one. The next night was a fabulous dream of flying and reality jumping and enjoying the situation which was fun. So I knew that I had passed the following test to see if I’d actually learned anything. As Paul said, “there is always another test”. I don’t like wasting my time. So I took that experience along with Paul’s creating his own Meetup group as an inspiration to do what it takes to create the reality you want through forward motion, to set a date for the first Center for Spiritual Exploration (from her on out aka CSE) meeting. I was looking forward to sharing it and inviting him to help me out by participating, when the whole camping and movie meetup and having his daughter, situation occurred. I was curious to see how much of the Four Agreements he could apply to the situation. He used the word assume, so it shows awareness of his logical state which is effected by the emotional, and it was what it was.

[random0gener8r]

Giving Birth to a Universe

I gave birth to a universe today.  And yes, it IS amazingly wonderfully exerting, and both breathtaking and breath leaving for the last/first time . . . and realizing that every moment of thoughtful awareness, is both a birth and death, the moment between open or closed, ying or yang, the all entwining, encompassing Springer of life and death simultaneously infinitum, was that, while “we” are in our flesh sacks in the vibrational pattern that currently coincides with the vessel I inhabit, (as wonderful, brilliant, deviant, and twisted as “I” meaning both, meaning “we”, meaning the eternal “I” that is closest to this realm through focus and attention).  The “I” that plays with the other goddesses and gods about the current vibrational pattern that you happen to exist in because you chose this oh, so wonderful meat sac to inhabit. 

Oh, what a horrible way to speak of your own body.  It is your body, your temple of meat, flesh and bone that this world has sprouted just for you, to give you this exact, and I mean exactingly exact, ‘I’m British and have a stick shoved so far up my ass I’m refined enough to know the ‘divine pleasure and exquisite pain’ of every given moment’ kinda world just for you, and the only way it can be made perfect for you, is by you – the light and the dark, the push and the pull, the given and the taken.  Life.  Each co-self-aware existing being, which before the end, the final demise, is an organic burst of life, of light, and so to hurt any of you, I really am only hurting myself.  So I ask, “What did I do to deserve this???  Why are we creating this???”  It’s a scientific inquiry first, well, after the first flame of thought, and then accepting and choosing of the exact same fate, for opposite reasons, but from which all other possibilities within that vibrational pattern’s code of existence. . . . When ad infinitum becomes visible and coherent to you . . . . and I digress . . . .

  Oh and absolutely my/your/our energy makes a difference and I am going to wield it for “good” (as this specific arrangement of atoms at this moment of perceived time would so define it), . . .  I mean come on, from that height what does any of it matter, but it does, because it is a reflection of what you put out there (and I digress):

Start with one mind, your own, and then let it catch on from there.   Share it.  You’re only trying to convince yourself at the end of the day. 

There are 2 things that make up reality” – gravity and awareness of yourself and/or your physical surroundings. 

There is absolutely nothing to fear . . . death, the absence, there is nothing to fear in that -  this eternal moment of “you” that takes the span of a lifetime for “you” to experience, at this vibrational pattern’s wavelength, is perfect from start to finish, you will always be exactly what you were going to be.  But it is through the living of it YOU judge yourself and determine what kind of human being you are, and you bear the responsibility of your life and every choice you make through action or inaction, is yours to account for.  Because there is a line.  At the end of the day, there is a line , . . . 

“And what bitch (said as a woman to a woman)?  If I’m a sociopath, I ain’t gonna give one rat’s ass about you.” 

And that is a necessary, unavoidable, an ’impossibility not to contain’ in any life path of any current vibrational pattern form - it is The eternally separate.  The Other.  The one that can never be known except in being its exact opposite and being cool with that.  And I digress…

Until you can look yourself in the heart and mind and say yes to it all, and not because you’re a coward, but because you understand that the only way one can understand, to go beyond logical understanding TO emotional, universal pattern code, well, that is no easy path to hike. 

And so, To ALL my invited, welcome, welcome home, it is so good to see you again, it has been too long. Come, let’s sit a chat for a while and get to know each other again for the brother and sister that you are to me, my uncle, grandmother, Tio, and Tata, Alejandro and oh, she had the most American name, Helen or Martha . . . anyway, you get my drift here, don’t ya? 

So, if this a sermon, or a statement of belief, an article of faith, and my ‘god given right,’ thank you for listening, I appreciate it. 

  The birth process was physicalized.  My body arched like a cat’s, arms and legs frozen, poised in a pure moment of joy, exultation, being understanding. A harsh exhalation.  A universe born. 

This is the world from my perspective.  Thank you for letting me share it with you.  I hope this is a start to a conversation and look forward to hearing from you soon.

Each and every person out there is an aspect of yourself materialized.  Sometimes it’s fun to rough-house and get knocked around a bit.  Let’s you know you’re alive, that you could die, death isn’t a possibility at some point but not now, until it is, but I digress, or discharge or whatever you like; takes nothing away from me.  I know what I like and this way, will find out about you without giving my position away.  All in good fun, just another move on the great game board.  Come and see, come inside, the great and wonderful show is about to begin. 

  You know what keeps people honest in their judgement of themselves - does anyone, really, ever want to come up wanting?????  Unless you cannot comprehend that to the smallest degree…because then you are the antithesis, the anti, the nega, and you are your own being unknowable in the end, no matter how many permutations and possibilities I spin and spin and spin.  This side “I” will never see or know until the moment of our passing between the birth and death of universes.  That’s my story.  What’s yours?

Like I said, I’m spicy.  I like to cause a little trouble, get into a little mischief; I am human to the core and am going to see what that means – inside and out. 

My faith is in camaraderie, love, compassion and courage.  Change takes courage.  It takes belief.  It can come down to faith scraping nails down the side of a scarred old mahogany door frame, war-torn cornflower blue wall paper, yellowing, with an ancient child’s memory of roasting spitted rabbit over fire, imaginations rending of pillow case and all with nails sharped by keening tongue; back, when ya can’t see not that one speck of hope’s light in the darkness; the pit, the void, darkness everlasting.  I’ve looked it in the eye, even took a few turns around its whirlpool, died I did in ten other versions of reality, and then the mistake; the unintended attempt that was unacceptable.  A time of reckoning and acceptance should one be so worthy.  A choice upheld. 

[random0gener8r]

THE CENTER FOR SPIRITUAL EXPLORATION

A Section of The Life Exploration Community Center

An Independent/Non-Denominational place of worship and community

    MISSION:      

  To provide a safe, supportive place for all spiritual explorers to come, share, reflect and chart their spiritual growth and path.

  Center Mission Statement

  There is no one “right” way to find one’s spiritual connection.  The search for meaning, for answers, for connection, and for the divine is a journey, not an absolute.  Each person’s journey can take many forms and follow many paths.  In the end, it is hoped that it is an inclusive, not exclusive, experience.  And, as with all things in life, spirituality can only be known and understood through the undertaking, not blind acceptance.  This is the point and purpose of the Church of Spiritual Exploration – to assist all searchers in their quest for knowledge and understanding of their spiritual existence within and without, without bias, judgement, or dogmatic practices. 

    DOCTRINE/CORE BELIEFS/CREED (a set of beliefs or aims that guide someone's actions):

            All experiences are unique, individual experiences and as such, will be listened to with respect.

All those at the onset, or in the midst of a spiritual experience, will be given shelter and assistance.

We will teach safe and respectful paths to finding and realizing spiritual exploration, including factors such as environment, preparation, group dynamics, breath management, how to deal with stressful experiences as both guide and participant, defining questions or search parameters for spiritual exploration, etc.

  The method/path to a spiritual experience is also unique.  There are many paths that lead to many possibilities. 

    ACTIVITIES/PROGRAMS

  Counseling

Retreats

Guidance

Food depository/redistribution – set up agreement with grocery stores to pick up food they would otherwise throw away

Flea Market – to assist/support small community businesses and the redistribution of donated goods – FUNDRASING 

Expression of Experiences through the Arts

Community garden

    WHEN AND WHERE

  Online and physical location - TBD

    INITIAL BOARD OF DIRECTORS

  President:  Denise M. Brooks

Vice President:

Treasurer:

Secretary:

Director of Spiritual Exploration and Application:

  There will always be 2 BoD Members who will have immediate connection to a Founding Member, if not a founding member.

  Goal being to remove three Staff Mentor names/family or work contacts = READY TO INCORPORATE – Do the Paperwork!!!

  The BoD vote to approve valid PAFGs.  PAFGs should be as inclusive as possible.  All those working on putting on a play - all basic religious factions or whatever the person spends the most time doing.  No splits.  Find a group who shares your basic interest – in Hinduism, or Pottery.  All hours count first toward your group hours, then toward your personal.  Once memberships have become full – 1 hour per week per group member threshold has been met and members gain no more benefit, then members may switch groups if they prefer, once per year.  

  STAFF & PRACTITIONER GUIDELINES/bylaw info

  Staff are chosen/hired by the Board of Directors

  The Board of Directors may vote on staff changes only:

            At the regularly scheduled Annual BoD meeting during the Staff Update and Review Agenda point in September as applicable.

            A Special Staffing Agenda Item placed on the Bi-Annum Scheduled meeting in March with a 75% passing vote.

 A minimum 90% Counsel vote calling for an emergency meeting of the BoD, to be held within 3 days (or a proper quorum number as per Code of Conduct handbook can be reached), regarding Staff Update and Review section of the yearly Agenda.

    Original Founding Mentors = those who served on both Board of Directors and as a Mentor before becoming a fully funded institution as defined as making over $25,000 per year net and a registered tax-exempt non-profit organization. 

  STAFF LIMITS

  No Mentor will have more than 1 Guide and 1 Acolyte at any time. 

No Guide may have more than 1 Acolyte at a time nor may serve more than 1 Mentor at a time.

No Acolyte may assist more than 1 Mentor/ Guide, or Mentor/PAFG or Guide/PAFG per year, to be chosen on a yearly basis. 

The total number of Acolytes may not exceed the total number of Mentors + Guides or the total number of PAFGs, whichever most suits the situation without breaking the min or max (try the correct amount somewhere in the middle). 

  Mentor – the highest “minister” level.  Responsible for all Mentor level duties including:

            Present Rites of Worship 

                        Sacramental – as per bylaw and Mission Statement decrees

                        Non-sacramental – as per bylaw and Mission Statement decrees

            The joining and dissolving of all joining/dissolution ceremonies

                        Dissolution – is a no fault, triumvirate to help assist in a non-aggressive division of assets and supportive environment to help assess, evaluate and allow the light of hope to remind you that all experiences are worth it as long as you learn and apply something to be the best “you” you can be in this reality.

            Counseling

            Hosting/Participating in Community Centered Events

            No Mentor will have more than 1 Guide and 1 Acolyte at any time.          

Have experienced some big extremes in my life

Have charted my path and growth, my experiences in some form or other

  No more than 1 Mentor per PAFG until the Mentor quota reaches 10, and thereafter the ratio of Mentors to PAFGs (and vice-versa) will not exceed (1/100 and 50/1 respectively); Once nearing said rations, a vote to form a new church/space can be held.  All actions must pass with a minimum of 90% agreement.  

  Guide – Below Mentor (minister) above Acolyte (volunteer) (no more than 1 per 1 Mentor); no more than 1 (ONE) Representative per 3 Mentors on the Counsel or 1 (ONE), whichever is less; No Guide may have more than 1 Acolyte at a time.  Voting privileges

  Acolyte – volunteers, a minimum of 10 hours per week as needed; 1 (ONE) Representative = no more than 1 per 4 PAFG or 2 per 5 Guides (whichever is least), voting privileges

  Parishioners/Practitioners – All those who come to Worship in whatever way they chose, as

they choose; no voting privileges, parishioner ID badge, must sign bylaws and General Behavior and Conduct Code which “we,” as humans, will do our best to uphold. 

Everyone starts as a P/P.  Members only accrue personal hours.  Personal hours can be traded in for goods and services. 

  Parishioner assistant/belief group (PAFG) = 5 or more people sharing an agreed upon faith and/or project (idea, action, completion) together

regular basis - defined as 5 hours each week per person, through faith and/or works;

voting privileges

to elect the 1 (ONE) Council Representative from with the members of their group

physical/mental/emotional

hours to increase along with membership, the lowest ration to be 1 hour per 25  parishioners, built up by 5 from the original 5 – 1/5, 1/10, 1/15, 1/20 until member 30 and then new members working toward lowering the total groups work load to no more than 1 hour per member per week en toto (achieved however the group chooses) required to maintain status)

  Retiree’s – those who have served will never be forgotten.  They will always have a home with us.  Same voting rights as any other PAFG, if creates or choses to affiliate with one.  No Board/Counsel Membership. 

    COUNSEL Members

  Monthly Meetings to be held on the Third Tuesday of each month starting September 19, 2017. 

  Representative Breakdown

  Mentors – ALL, or a maximum of 10, with 5 year term limit, term limit being until unfit/able to serve as per Code of Appropriate Conduct, Bylaws, and Constitution (Policy and Procedure Handbook).  September 19, 2017 (3nd Tues)

Guides – 1 Guide per 3 Mentors on staff, maximum of 10, membership to serve updated yearly (unless full quorum is dictated by emergency circumstances), voted on as necessary by Guides on March 15, 2018___________________     Month and Day of the year (the third Tuesday). 

Acolytes – 1 Acolyte per 4 PAFGs or 2 per 5 Guides, maximum of 12, voted on March 15, 2018 (third Tuesday), yearly

PAFGs - 1 Rep per recognized PAFG.  Maximum allowed 50 or 1 Rep per 50 members of any level possessing a valid ID Badge (whichever is least). 

    TO START –

main focus -

hallucinogenic components

secondary foci (often automatically associated with the use of hallucinogens)–

more positive, healthy lifestyle, sharing/redistributing, community building through respect, meeting, learning and accepting through understanding

      DRAFT BYLAWS/CONSTITUTION/CHARTER

  http://www.freechurchforms.com/support-files/churchbylawssample.pdf

http://www.freechurchforms.com/church_bylaws_sample.html

  Guidelines to Writing Church Bylaws

1. Meet with the church board to decide your bylaws and determine the focus of your church. The secretary of the board should take minutes for the bylaw meeting.

2. Write the church’s official name, bank documents, bills, bank accounts and other pertinent documentation.

3. Define the church’s purpose, what you plan to address through your ministries, and your legal status. Is your church a registered tax-exempt non-profit organization or do you have another tax status? This will help you define how you will operate in terms of donations and it’s very important. Only non-profit organizations can accept tax-deductible donations.

4. Discuss the denomination of your church, If your church belongs to a specific denomination, it’s important that you mention this in your bylaws. This will help guide your church’s statement of faith or what your congregation holds to be true.

5. Write your church’s mission statement and outline how the leaders of your church plan to achieve its purpose and goals. Will your church focus on outreach projects or programs?

6. Discuss the requirements for membership to your church, including the process of becoming a member and each congregant’s right, responsibilities, and requirements for members if any applies. Include whether congregants will have voting rights or if the voting rights are held solely by the board.

7. Define how staff members are chosen or elected and their responsibilities within the congregation. Clearly outline how the choosing or election process will work.

8. Write the rules for board meetings, including who has the right to vote, how the meetings will be regulated, and how often financial updates should occur.

9. Define the departments within your church, such as finance, women’s ministry, youth ministry, pro-life or other areas that your church will focus on.

10. Discuss the church’s ability to own land and have assets and whose name they will be listed under. A church must abide by state laws. Some states require incorporation in order to own land. If incorporation is decided against by the board, then the assets of the church should be placed in one person’s name.

11. Explain how your church’s bylaws can be amended and if majority vote is required. As the church grows, revisions might need to be made to the bylaws.

12. Plan in case the church might be dissolved and how church assets will be distributed if the church closes.

13. Hold a vote to approve the bylaws. If a majority of the board members approve it, this will be a legally-binding document to guide the church.

  RELIGIOUS HISTORY

  Alternate forms/ways of spiritual experience – Salvia Divinorum is legal in many states and could be used in tea and smoke ceremonies.

              Meditation

            Peyote Ceremonies

            Talking in tongues

            Snake handling

            Fasting

            Sweat lodges

            Pain/self-flagellation

            Chanting, singing

            Sacrificial offerings

            Hand/Touch healing

  Current hallucinogenic for spirituality purposes practitioners:

  UDV – drink huasca tea – Supreme Court ruled in their favor in 2006, have DEA permission to import components of huasca tea on public transportation (airplanes).

Santo Daime - drink huasca tea 

Native American Church – peyote consumption

Ayahuasca Healings – huasca tea

Oklevueha Native American Church – marijuana, mushroom, peyote - the church has a religious exemption to use psilocybin mushrooms and peyote cactus. Rushing refers to their use in religious ceremonies as a sacrament.  Members must provide a valid photo I.D. that identifies them as members of the church.

  DEPARTMENTS

  Research and Development – of different spiritual practices and ideas

Ambassadors – as requested by outside agencies for assistance with anything – disaster relief, negotiations, think-tanks, etc.

        STARTING A CHURCH AND THEN GETTING ORDAINED

https://www.startchurch.com/blog/view/name/start-a-church-then-get-ordained

    There is a common misunderstanding among many church leaders and those called to plant a church.  Many believe that one can plant a church only if they have been ordained or licensed as a minister of the gospel.  However, that is not true.  In fact, one can start a church, establish it on a solid legal foundation, and then become ordained right through the very church he/she has started.  The ordination he/she gets from the newly started church is just as valid as if the individual was ordained after attending a four-year Bible college. 

Can I really become ordained through the church I start?

In defining who qualifies as a minister, the United States Supreme Court unanimously ruled in January 2012, "It is impermissible for the government to contradict a church's determination of who can act as its minister."  The court was also careful to state that just because a church ordains you, does not mean that the state will automatically recognize it either.  So, in defining a minister the court relied upon many facts and circumstances and refused "to adopt a rigid formula for deciding . . ." when a person . . . "qualifies as a minister."  In another federal court case, Cramer v. Commonwealth, 202 S.E.2d 911, the court ruled that the  "selection or election must be a considered, deliberate, and responsible act."  The court looked for a process that was in writing and which required a minister to be someone specially selected through a formal process that scrutinized him/her and granted him/her authority to perform the normal duties of an ordained minister.  The court further made a point to clarify that the state couldn't give unconstitutional preference to a more established church/denomination over a newly established small church.  As long as the church has created a real process based on the church's rules, ecclesiastical order, doctrines, and sincerely held beliefs, the state must recognize it. 

  TO THIS END Mentors (ministers) and Guides (staff) will be those among us who have the most experience in the prep, use, and the ability to see the experience for what it is as well as what it could mean – it is a drug induced state that allows us to tap into our inner selves and possibly outer beings/states/places.  It is an altered state of consciousness.  What it means, well, that is the Ministers’ time to act as guide in helping to interpret the experience with the person/community. 

There will be Ministers for each type of hallucinogenic drug - LSD, Mushrooms, Peyote, DMT, Salvia, Ayahuasca, etc.  

They will prove their ability/competence through successful ingestion and relation of the experience to the Board of Directors.  It is expected (but not necessary) that the Board will be comprised, at least initially, by those who will become the first Mentors and Guides.  Later, the Board will hopefully add those in Health and other diverse professions. 

  SERVICES

            Mantra-

            Mentor has a main idea that the shared experience will help illustrate

                        Main ideas

                                    Community, love (self and between beings), interconnectedness, well-being, other dimensions,

            Sacrament ingestion

Mentor shares an experience (be it hers/his or as shared by a congregation member with permission) and gives an interpretation of it (if not hers/his personal experience, then that which was discussed with the congregational member

            Congregation – if any wish to speak to the Ministers shared experience – to be limited to those who have agreed to speak on the main topic/experience beforehand

                        Guided Group Meditation

            Music

            Mantra

            Discussion time

                Prepare Certificate of Formation/Articles of Incorporation

  File Certificate of Formation/Articles of Incorporation

    LITERATURE

  Missives and pamphlets

  Procedural – for safe(st) preparation and consumption of various hallucinogenic drugs

  Philosophical – The Science of Hallucinogenics and Metaphysical Experiences,

                        Alternate Realities, Other Dimensions and You, Time as the Eternal Now,

Tapping into the Collective Unconscious, Living in a State of Possibility, Glowing Golden – Finding your Inner and Outer God/desses, Fate and Free Will, Systems of Interconnectivity within natural world systems and beyond, etc. 

  Faith/Belief –

  CHOICE - Choice is our ultimate power in this world.  What we choose, is what we are.  It must be fully accepted, integrated and adhered to.  Everything is a choice.  Nothing is inherently “good” or “evil”.  How you choose to perceive any event is completely up to you.  No one can choose for you. 

  EGO DEATH – self-love as the basis for each choice creates the strongest foundation.  Letting go of the need to be “right” allows one to embrace multiple perspectives, opening pathways and possibilities unavailable any other way.  Nothing, no other perspective, even polar opposite perspectives, can ever negate your perspective.  Just as your perspective never negates any other perspective.

  INTEGRATING OUR HIGHER SELVES WITH OUR HUMANITY – Every human has the potential/ability to be their own highest power.  Rejoice not only in our higher selves, but also in our humanity.  Viewing our humanity from the vantage point of our higher selves, allows our choice paths to be clearer in point and compassion.  If we didn’t want to have a human experience, we wouldn’t be here.  So enjoy all of the emotions, conundrums and idiosyncrasies associated with being human - just don’t let them become your story.

  WRITING OUR LIFE STORY – Each human’s life is theirs to create.  All outside dogmas, laws, rules, culture, and societal limitations are each person’s right to accept or refute.  This doesn’t absent consequences, it challenges you to accept the associated consequences while still being true to yourself and your fully aware chosen path.  Thought without action is unworkable.  Action without thought is unworkable.  Wanting doesn’t create reality.  Thought and action creates reality.  Accepting that you have chosen this life and all of your experiences thus far allows you the power to choose what they mean and where you choose to go from there.

  SPIRITUAL SIGNPOSTS – The more you connect with your higher selves through self-love, awareness and flexible perspectives, the more spiritual signs you will encounter, assisting you in your growth and path.

  TRUST – The more you trust in yourself – your choices and perspectives – the more trust you have in in the world, other people, and in the possibilities available.  You are exactly where you were always going to be.  You always have the power to choose a different path, create another self-story.  The only limitations are those you chose to accept for yourself. 

      FUNDRAISING

  MAPS – possible grant $ if we can do research study?

Donations

Flea Market

Farmer’s Market

Retreats

Certified Counselling

Healthy Living/Eating classes

Guest Lectures/Speakers

[random0gener8r]

[random0gener8r]

November 11, 2016

I almost feel lonely.  It’s an odd sensation.  I mean, I’ve felt it before, acutely, but this is different – there is somewhere I fear I’d rather be (if my cat was there, too).  I fear it, because, well, let’s just leave it at past patterns.  I’m letting it roll me.  It’s more interesting than job hunting.  It’s more fun than anything else I can think of that’s possible in this world.  It’s exciting and new, serious and yet playful, a commitment. 

And there it is. 

Still not ready to commit to anything.

Not true.

I don’t know.

It’s big.  I mean I’ve started the process, nonetheless.  Headless, heedless.  Into the breach once more…there is only forward. 

I would suggest that they stay over Sat-Sun, but my place is so small.  But doable for like 12 hours. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tNfcDyQdbv4&index=5&list=FLvCqlCsW6VoeUpWGlegJVvA

[random0gener8r]

November 7, 2016                                                           

It was a fabulous weekend.  There were many complete communication moments.  Some verbal, some not.  Friday was our drink too much evening.  With P to help, no serious hangover.  Ah yes, we ran a few errands (Walgreens, the Glass Bottom Boat, E and I, hung out and talked.  She told me two secrets.  I dislike secrets.  I did my best to carry them.  I don’t know how well I succeeded.  We cuddled and watched tv upstairs.  T hung back as I hadn’t responded to his email, WARNING….  That was a discussion and one I didn’t want to have until the evening.  We kissed hello and goodbye, but no big pick-up hug, so I knew he was distraught. 

I made it clear that I wanted a “normal” weekend.  So we partied, E and I, on Friday – T was on call – and I spent a lot of time on the porch talking to T once E was knocked out. 

I know a full accounting is more helpful, but at the moment, all I want to talk about is love.  I wasn’t planning on having sex with T this weekend.  There was no dedicated ceremony, no romantic touches, nothing “special.”  Oh, there was his Chippendale striptease show, and reading The Judging Eye, which were both amazing experiences, but they had nothing to do with my decision.  I wanted it, neigh on needed it, and so did he.  It was like losing my virginity for the second time.  It was hard, slow going.  It hurt.  But it was precisely that pain I wanted to give to him.  He didn’t turn away from it.  He was concerned, attentive, aware, but also determined, I guess.  So I sang him the Song of Rebirth.  The song of the Cracked Vault and the Champion.  He had to work for every inch, and I had to pay for it.  Was glad to.  Was so glad to that I kept my eyes open more than not and showed him as I sang my songs.  Pain transformed into acceptance becoming pleasure.  A subject he has knowledge of, and enjoys himself.    It wasn’t how either of us thought the first time would go.  That was okay.  As I told him, he fulfilled his gentlemanly obligations and I didn’t say please.  A win-win.  (And yes, this has nothing to do with love.) (Are you sure about that?)

This morning, T told me he loved me, again.  I’d forgotten the first time.  Replying that I heard him was the best I did that time, and, it seems, promptly forgot it.  Too early, too soon, not something I was ready to deal with.  I’m still not sure what to do with it.  I love him, too, but can’t yet say it.  It continues to ripen on the tree, not yet ready to be plucked and dropped from my lips.  He’s sent me no word or message.  He’s said saying goodbye is difficult; he misses me when I’m not there; he likes all of me (to which I said if that’s true then there’s no problem);he said he worries about me (to which I added I know it’s crazy), he wants to be with me and it doesn’t matter what we do.  But again, these are only words.  It isn’t that I don’t believe him, I just haven’t allowed myself to fully feel it.  Or don’t know how to.  I don’t know.

It was difficult to leave this morning.  I’m glad I had lunch with Mom and Dawn, it was really nice, but I didn’t want to go, drive away, leave them behind.  I wanted to stay.  They gave me flowers, a card, and turned the heat up.  Now that makes me feel special and wanted.  ;)  They gave me my space which I didn’t abuse.  The fact is, I enjoy hanging out with them.  Especially now that we all are calming down. 

He delights me.  His willingness to share, be open and authentic.  He’s only ever done The Striptease of Power for E.  It was charming, goofy, impassioned and sexy.  But it was the Reading of Seduction with the glasses that really did it for me.  I think it’s a Clark Kent/Superman thing with some Professor thrown in for good measure.  He reads the same way he karaokes – with passion and daring joy.    

I don’t know how many of the paranormal things I’ve told him about he actually believes.  I don’t know why it matters.  (Yes, you do.)

E and I had several breakthroughs.  She really enjoyed the facial and really enjoyed her between my legs, looking into my eyes, allowing me to cry and allow some hurt out, understanding while thrusting her fingers in and out of me.  Talking authentically.  

[random0gener8r]

October 27, 2016

Well, I finally got some “work” done.  I’ve been filling out documents for various purposes – job app, healthcare, st loan.  Dishes.  Trash and recycling.  Vacuuming and tidying.  With time left over to continue working on my mental health. 

Troy wrote me such a beautiful email.  I beginning to believe they love me.  In the way that I’ll never know why per se, but in the way that you don’t need to know because it’s the same way you felt towards Charlie – Pure, real and true.  Unquenchable, undeniable.  A force unto itself.  That is Parental Love – and it doesn’t matter – blood, genes, species – makes no difference.  I call it Parental because that is how my parents feel about me.  I didn’t understand it before.  Have only felt it for my cats and Blackie.  That’s the second time this week I’ve realized how exceptional my parents are and that I have to tell them so. 

I have also come to think that my bio-m, perhaps she didn’t want or like me and so I picked up her negative intentions towards me – it would be an explanation for being 6 weeks premature, the feeling that there was something wrong with me, lack of trust.  I’m not saying it’s true or right, and I have no interest in finding out, but it’s the best explanation that I can overcome.  It makes me peaceful, not sad or angry.  I can understand that. 

And it’s my Story.  The only truth is mine.  Not like a cult/religious truth, an individual truth.  Hell, half of my story will be impossible to prove, but the symmetry, math could have a go at it.  The flow, the timing, the synchronicity, causality.  I believe it counts for something outside my story, but within, well, I think things are gonna get Funky!!!!!!!

I wonder how long I’ll need to stay away.  I originally figured 12 days.  Unless for some reason I think I should wait until the big bang, so to speak, and when my shit is more together.  I will not take the easy way out.  I will rebuild my confidence as a worker.  I will earn my own way.  If I can do that and still exist in my world, allow no relevant dichotomy, then it will go well.  Not to mention the heat.  I just can’t stay horny all day and night.  I mean, sure, there are breaks, but seriously, it’s like being a porn star.  In all the best yet tiring ways.  That quickly overwhelms.  I’m not even sure release would damp it for long.  I can control it, but it doesn’t mean I don’t feel it.  Every clench, every squirt.  Every ripple of desire, of need.  HA – I was thinking about what it would be like if Jaguar was actually in control.  Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Anarchy, chaos, sexual junkets.  Insanity, excessively pleasurable, and fun, until you keeled over and died.  Totally worth the price.  If you’re into that sorta thing.  Me, I’d like to experience tomorrow, next week, 54 days from now, your birthday, my birthday, your birthday.  Now, the world is interesting. 

The heat is enticing.  His face more so.  His eyes.  Her lips, tongue.  Breasts. 

But now it is the love I return to.  I saw a line segment delineated by three dots – both ends and the middle.  Pivoting from the middle, circles in halves and then given to so many dynamics.  I’ve never found geometry so beautiful.  The brilliance of a line that is flexible. 

[random0gener8r]

10/24/16

So, I’m trying to wrap my mind around someone, T, reading my Tumblr project.  Theoretically, I was fine with it, but when it’s being used as a reference, it kinda creeps me out.   

Anyway, I was thinking further in what it could be like if T and I actually each other’s vessel.  I never considered myself a vessel, but it’s only fair, otherwise I have to upgrade him to equal god status. And I don’t even want to think what that could mean.  

Not to mention he’s pretty much the polar opposite to what I imagined in my mind.  Serves me right – hahahahaha. 

I realized that there is a small component to this that is parent –like.  As though I was choosing the parents I would have wanted, the sort that I would have felt safe and loved with.  I came up with that little gem coming out of the shrinks.  Apropos of her exercise to envision the family you would have wanted.  Funny as hell, but there is a component of truth in it.  But with no aspect of I want to fuck my father. 

M actually thought about my question and her response.  I don’t think she can slide into my perspective because she has no experience to call upon as a reference.  And she’s still curious as to why it bothers her that I was worried about how she’d spoken with my parents.  Discordance has begun.  She can’t decide if she wants to continue to define herself through explicit language.  She has identified her “I” and identity on that form of communication.  Perhaps she’ll see there’s a time and a place, to a more refined degree.  She saw her daughter for the first time in a while.  She was nervous.  She was worried and defensive, but not necessarily combative.  I waited for her daughter and granddaughter to show, until I couldn’t any longer.  I met them when they did show up to switch cars. 

E gave me her cheek when I left this morning.  It could have been worse. 

10/25/16

More, more, more.  They always want more.  It doesn’t matter how much you give, they always want more. 

Today, I’ve reached my “No”. 

Why must they bother me?  Poke and pry where they have no right to be.  Demanding what they haven’t yet earned.  Who said I ever wanted to know those things about you?  You assumed it was relevant.  To me.  Share – expose is more like it.  Like a flasher.  Here, here is my pain, love me for it, let me shower you in it, engorge you with it, drown you in it.  Because I care, because you must know this, because you are special, important to me.  So take it, whether you want it or not.  And drown.

No, no thank you.  I will not take it.  It isn’t mine, it’s yours and you can keep it for as long as you like, but I will not bear it with you.  It isn’t mine to bear.  I don’t want it.  Not like this.  No, thank you.

 I love that his walls are down.  That’s why I look into his eyes – the openness, and then the search for more, for beyond, where the eyes fall away and there is only the connection, a mutual space of understanding, a place of a single understood perception.  I know, highly improbable in this realm of being…but it doesn’t hurt to look.  And yet he seems insubstantial, for all of his size.  Not quite there, for a multiple of reasons.  Invisibility for protection.  Camouflage.  I’ve found I lose track of him, his presence.  It isn’t that she, her presence is too big, but he slides from my mind, only to reappear, in a situation where when it came to serving him, he wasn’t there, in my mind, to serve.  He didn’t exist.  That’s not normal.      It’s that singular situation that this occurs in.  The rest of the time he’s there.  Interesting.

Man, I came so close to saying goodbye.  I was freaking out there for a few hours.  What is it about sharing?  The information can be used against you through manipulation.  You’ve kept yourself hidden, this self, this person, for so long, you don’t even know you, not exactly.  I trust myself to define myself based on this time and space experience.  And then I hit these moments, and I realize it is time to deal with the issue. 

What happened in the past sucked.  Are you going to let it control you now?  Does carrying that forward help you attain your everyday goal of being as happy as you can be?  If not, thank it for sharing one last time and move past it by stepping forward.  Forward into change, into choice, and back into the world of “Yes”. 

I don’t know how to share.

A valid concern.  Speak the truth (from your pov).  If you feel the need to be “right” then stop and examine why this is.  I still really do want to tell them a cougar is not the same as a jaguar.  Same genus, but different family.  I looked it up.  Hahahahahahahaha.  And I still find it strange that he kept the five bucks.  I’m split emotionally, but know it isn’t important.  And just so interesting.  Economic insecurity.  A long standing issue.  Feels guilt over enjoying spending it.  Often mentions her frugality.  Squirrel.

And I have a nonstop stream of fucking Nickleback songs parading through my head. 

Continuing – open your heart and speak and listen through it, remind yourself that the person you are speaking to isn’t your enemy, they aren’t a threat, they are your friend, they care about you, and you care about them.  Remember the trust that you give and the trust that they’ve earned, there is nothing to fear when you speak through love, everything is always exactly what it is, and how it was always meant/going to be.   There is no wrong or right, only choices whose outcomes you may or may not prefer in a given order. 

 I don’t know what to share.  I seriously do not know what they would find interesting.  Why they care. 

Are you expecting them not to be around?

I don’t think it’s that.  Impermanence doesn’t affect depth of communication.  Often, it heightens it. 

I don’t know if they’ll understand. 

And if they don’t, what’s the worst consequence?

A communicational impasse.  Very unfulfilling but not life threatening.

 Yes, I’m having a hard time holding the necessary trust level when thinking about sharing with them. 

But that really isn’t surprising.  You have the same reaction when you think about sharing with anyone beside your shrink.

With M, it’s her conversational style and lack of interest, not trust that keeps me from sharing.

P’s, boundaries and their own share thresholds that block sharing.

[random0gener8r]

The Bullet                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

She twirls the bullet like a spinneret from a candy-colored board game.  Its shiny golden casing is a blur against the dark brown background.  She always picks up some trinket, a keepsake, to tie her trip memories to – an object she can slyly display and wrap her stories around. 

She spins the bullet.  It points at Sean.  “You’re going to hate me eventually,” she says.

She’d found it in a cardboard box for Gehl’s chili cheese sauce full of odds-n-ends left on the grimy glass counter at one of those roadside trading posts this morning when religious sorts were getting their “amens” on.  The car kicked up dust as they pulled into the parking lot adding another layer to the well weathered wood of the shop.  The bullet lay nestled among arrowheads, small, snotty white medicine bottles, old bottle tops, pitted locks, rusty nails and mismatched, chunky keys.

It was a useless bullet, too long to fit in a real gun – a cop’s gun or an Uzi.  It was too shiny to be anything but store bought.  She half expected the salesman, an Indian for sure, or maybe an Indian Mexican mix, sitting on a stool at the far end of the counter watching them, to give her some song and dance about how it was from the Indian wars, but there wasn’t a single dent in the casing or a grain of dirt imbedded in the crack between the shell and dull silver colored tip or in the words .30-.30 Winchester stamped on the bottom, but he didn’t move.  He coulda just stepped off the front walkway, dropped it in the dirt and given it one good grind with his heel and spouted all sorts of marvelous stories about it.  But he didn’t.  It was a virginal as the day he bought the box at Wal-Mart. She walked over and he took her dollar and didn’t bother to offer her a bag. 

She bought it for its utter lack of history, knowing she would weave one around it as beautifully intricate as the blanket the store owner’s assistant or wife had been working on – the shuttle, with its crimson tail, skittered between strings of yarn the color of sagebrush, dried up riverbeds, and the twilit sky; the wood thunked as she tamped the yarn home. 

But for now, she spins the long, shiny bullet on the bar top as they have a drink in the garish chain restaurant filled with memorabilia and wait for their table.  She sips her beer, almost the same color as the bullet. Sean rattles the ice in his Coke before sucking on the straw. 

She spins the bullet.  It lands on the door.

They’d taken off on a lark and headed out into the Arizona desert, fleeing the concrete and congestion of Los Angeles.  They passed any number of roadside trinket shops – some with bright peeling paint, others in minihubs of gewgaw commerce with colorful blankets, chunks of rocks and carved, stuffed or painted animals or animal parts.  She’d avoided those for their lack of good taste, waiting in the car with the window rolled down, worms of sweat sticking her tank top to her back and chest as Sean meandered through the aisles of crap.  He didn’t mind the multitudes, the masses.  He enjoyed the hanging markets of LA, the crush and lines of Disneyland, the air-conditioned multiplex behemoths.  She preferred the authenticity of the heat and sweat in the car. 

Friday night they stayed in a Motel Six in Gila Bend.  They could have camped, but Sean had never been camping before, and she wanted his first time to be nice, organized, memorable.  Desert camping, unless done in the spring, wasn’t pretty.  So, they ate decent Mexican food at a place next to the motel, had a margarita, stared out at the flat horizon, watched some TV and sacked out in the separate double beds he’d paid for. 

She spins the bullet.  It lands on a bottle of Jack.

They’d slept together for the first time the night before.  They’d both gotten pretty tipsy at a country and western joint they’d found a few miles from the motel they stayed at in a podunk town that boasted a Super Wal-Mart, two gas stations, a Dairy Queen, the obligatory Main Street, and a few ramshackle houses - dull white paint losing out to years of dust blown grit, and the requisite rusting out two and four wheeled vehicles parked sloppily in the scrabble hard front yards. 

In Podunk, they found the Sidewinder motel; the sign had a giant carved rattlesnake on it in the shape of an S for the name.  The owners refrained from neon trim but used it for the vacancy availability.  She didn’t imagine the ‘No’ was used often.

It was decent.  The plastic cups were sealed; there was a toilet seat band testifying to its porcelain hygiene, a cracked sink with a bottle opener secured to the side and beat up shower curtain that maintained the cowboy theme.  The rug was worn but not bare, the paint, flat and uninspired, the furnishings had attended several in room ho-downs and the comforter was as scratchy as the cacti emblazoned on it. 

The owner of the Sidewinder recommended The Cattle Prod Bar and Grill and the local rattlesnake appetizer it served.   So they ordered that.  It tasted like deep fried chicken.  Sean also ordered a burger. She went with the ribs.     

Sean was raised country but didn’t dance.  She hated country, except the old stuff, and didn’t know the steps.  After several margaritas, she knew the steps and he was willing to get up.  A nice couple a few years younger than they were, in matching cowboy attire, tried to help them out, but neither his Nikes nor her city girl half boot heels were up to the challenge.  They shared a beer at the couples’ table instead (after Sam alerted the waitress to their venue change with an ear splitting whistle and wave) and heard about the local color. 

 She spins the bullet.  It lands on an old washboard.

 Marty, short for Matilda, and Sam were Podunkers, born and bred.  They’d gone to school together, all levels, and got married just outta high school.  They had a couple of kids that his momma was looking after that night.  They were sweet as butter pecan pie.  She didn’t like butter pecan pie.  Never had it, truth be told, but it sounded sweeter than a palate could handle.  She tried not to hold this against them. 

Marty was a housewife who worked at the Super Wal-Mart part-time.  Sam worked as a mechanic in the same said location.  Spit-fire came to mind when she looked at her.  Good Ol’, when she looked at him. 

They rarely traveled, but went to Vegas for their anniversary every year.  They loved the lights and the shows.  They’d seen the white tiger show a dozen times, and wasn’t it a terrible shame what happened to Roy, or was it Siegfried?  Whichever. 

“You can’t trust nature.  You can’t tame it, no matter what you think.  You gotta respect it,     keep your eyes on it.”  Sam participated in the annual rattlesnake round-up.  He knew what he was talking about. 

Sean bought the next round.

“This is exactly the kind of place I’m looking to move to,” she said.     

“Really?  Why would you ever want to leave the city?” Marty asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?  The noise, the people, the parking, the people, the noise.” 

“Yeah, we don’t really have much noise or parking troubles here.  But the people,” Sam paused and rolled his eyes.

Marty looked around and continued.  “That guy over there isn’t married to the girl he’s dancing with.  His wife’s laid up with their next bundle of joy on the way.  That lady, I use the term loosely, has a mouth filthier than the dumpster out back and not just from the words gushing out of it.  He’s got a gambling problem, she’s a drunk, he’s a drunk, he beats on his wife.  I think that squirrely bunch over there are into drugs.  The Meth.”

Sam continued, pointing them out by tapping them on their distant heads to the tune of Duck, Duck, Goose.  “Drunk, drunk, holy roller drunk, hippy, drunk who beats his wife and kids, thief, lazy bastard, old coot, slut, diseased slut, and a drunk who passes out in his own…what’s the word they use in CSI for piss and shit,” he asked Marty. 

“Bodily fluids.”

“Yeah, in his own bodily fluids.” 

“I even heard that couple there are nudists.  Sometimes them and that hippy get together and I don’t even want to think about what goes on then.”  Marty squealed in laughter and we all joined her.

“Looks like we met the only other normal people in the bar,” Sean offered.

“That’s right,” Sam said with a wink.  “Course, if you asked any of them, we’d have a hundred and one flaws faster than old Clem can pull his pud following your lady to the can.” 

“The first of which I’m sure are town crier and resident leg puller,” she said with a smile.

“That’s one way of putting it, I suppose,” Sam said tipping his hat.

“So, how long you two been together?”  Marty asked, nudging Sean.  Sean looked across the table at ‘his lady.’

“Oh, we’ve been friends for a while,” she replied.

She spins the bullet.  It clinks against her glass, ricochets and rolls to the edge of the bar, saved from falling by the raised lip.

She was interested in Sean because he also had a dream.  He wrote screenplays.  Then again, who didn’t in LA?  They weren’t to her taste but she was sure he had talent in some other way.  She also liked the way his curly brown hair fell into his face as he bent over proofs making corrections in red pencil.  He was quiet until you got him talking about movies, then his face lit up and his body came alive.  He’d act out parts doing the voices and everything.  It was cute. 

He found her brash and confrontational, outspoken and open to anything.  He said he liked that about her.  They all did at first.

She spins the bullet.  It lands on the bartender.

They met at work.  Sean was a copyeditor.  She was a proofer.  It was a lateral move so she didn’t have any trouble with the thought of someone thinking she was trying to sleep her way up the ladder.  She’d invited him and a few others out after work one night to celebrate the fact that it was Friday.  He was the last one to leave. 

It took a couple months after that for him to invite her to the movies - Snakes on a Plane.  For a month after, she’d had to look before using the toilet.   A few weeks after that, he invited out for sushi, where she discovered he also had an affinity for cooking. 

After three months of ‘hanging out,’ and trying to decide if she was even interested, she asked him if he had some freaky sexual hang-up.  She threw it out there as he drove her home after dinner and drinks at the Grove, where she’d fed cigarettes and the remnants of her falafel and fries to a homeless Jewish man because:

1) he needed it,

2) he wore a silver or white gold ring with the star of David and tiny Hebrew text embossed on it and seven of her ten fingers were similarly bedecked, and

3) she’d never met a homeless Jewish person before.    

She didn’t have any problem with funky sexual hang-ups as she had a fair share of her own, but he only looked confused.  That wasn’t something they had in common. 

It took him another year to kiss her and by that time she’d given up all thoughts of a romantic nature and so was taken quite by surprise.  She had a stable of men at the time, but most of them didn’t progress past the second date and became drinking dial-ups or text buddies. 

She had one Ex that started as a friend, became more, then less, after she realized his conversational skills were limited to his work and ex-wife.  He was also a terrible kisser, had hands like a broke down boxer and BO that could knock a crow off a power cable.  But he was a really nice guy.  So, they settled into a nice friends-with-occasional-benefits routine. 

She spins the bullet.  It lands on a bicycle built for two.

This was their first trip and since the kiss, nothing more had happened.  But last night, she’d cried as he pulled her towards orgasm.  Her body missed the act, her mind, the presumed intimacy, her heart, the possibilities.  Not to mention he didn’t smell like anything funky or snore afterwards.

She spins the bullet.  It lands on the television.

Sean rattles the ice in his glass as he watches the basketball game over the bar – one team in red and white the other in blue and gold.  They are tall.  They have great legs and tight butts. 

She spins the bullet.  It points at her. 

She has a dream, a plan.  In six months she’ll have enough saved up from her soul killing job to move to a podunk town and follow it.  Sean doesn’t figure into that equation. 

She spins the bullet.  It points at Sean.

“You’re going to hate me eventually,” she says.

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know.  Last night.  I’m afraid something’s changed for me.”

She spins the bullet. 

“I know what you mean,” he says, touching her hand.

It spins.   

“I’m still leaving.”

“I know.  But that’s a long ways off.  We have plenty of time to figure things out.” 

And spins.

“Donovan?” asks the button festooned waitress.  “Your table is ready.”

She picks up her beer and bullet but it continues to spin.     

[random0gener8r]

8/23/16

Well, I was completely wrong about M.  He only saw our differences.  Oh well.  R is the same – 2 dates and decisions must be made.  Sex may or may not an issue.  It was with R – he wanted me to choose between him and M, but there was such limited data.  It seems there is no more “getting to know you” phase.  Oh, well.  I’m feeling myself make a generalization and rule.  Let’s not do that.  It is a possible pattern, but more data is needed, and even then, there must be someone who isn’t in such a hurry and decide. 

Of course I felt hurt, sad, disappointed.  I’m still a little hurt.  Working through it.  Am I terribly curious about his pov – indeed.  But it isn’t mine to know.  And it’s his problem.  It’s about him, not me.  I didn’t do anything wrong.  And neither did he.  I’m just really curious how he came to this  “No.” 

I’ve walked through the differences I noticed – we didn’t kiss well together, he’s boney, he has difficulty feeling, he has a dog, he’s from a broken home, from England, lived in Germany, understands computer languages, has a job, doesn’t have a car, wears the funny toe shoes.  Is an atheist.  Has been married, twice.  And he can’t read to understand figurative/poetic language.  I think he understands it better verbally.

Equanimity.   Such a nice word.  Striving to reach. 

Yeah, well, fuck you, too. 

And there she is; there’s my girl. 

I suppose it was foolish to think I’d find him just like that.  The vessel. 

You love the story more than the actuality.

And who wouldn’t?  In my story there is magic and fate, great love and great despair.  And only a few steps from reality.  A mere blink, really.  Crazy?  To some, certainly.  I don’t mind.  I’m happy with it.  This is the life that I choose, as far as I can.  This is who I choose to be.  What you think is of no consequence.  Because the one thing we all have in complete common is the fact that we are trapped within our own point of view.  All we can do is remind ourselves of this truth and know we are the tip of the blade, slicing through the universe, making our choices, for whatever reason (and reason can be oh so very important), but it it’s the choice that is the motive power.  And in that we are alone.  Utterly. 

So, let him choose what it meant to him.  You have the right to choose for yourself.  What will it be?

It wasn’t all that dramatic, geez.  It was a couple of dates, put the philosophy back in your pants. 

Too true, too true.  Now, if we could all come to order and move forward with today’s business….

              So – there was that.  Is it so crazy to create your own god?  All the others are made up.  They are just known and/or followed by more people. 

            Maybe I should ask.  No.  Don’t be a child.  You don’t always get what you want. 

  I enjoyed the Hope no-kill animal rescue home.  I’ll go again as soon as a feel better. 

Managed not to have to go camping this weekend, thus able to go to Dim Sum with my P’s. 

R also abdicated benefits, but is willing to remain a friend, so he says.  I’ll text him when I feel better and some time to ensure it is only friendship.

A shame J S couldn’t keep our skype appointment, and will be busy until the 8th of Sept.  It does give me more time to write.  Which I have been delinquent about. 

              The footprints came in a group up from the south.  A clear track made by the treads circled the house, barn, and storage sheds.  A few outliers crossed fields to the tree line.  He couldn’t make out their direction from where the cart slowed and came to a halt. 

[random0gener8r]

8/16/16

I am a human reforming.  The light of a fairy stepping forth from her petal egg shell onto the back of a curly vine, high up.  To what it clings to, she doesn’t know, cannot see.  Doesn’t care.  It takes no effort, only that she will it open.  Everything is new.  If not new, new, then close enough.  A first experience in a different time and place.  Which would make every sensation brand new – but I digress.

It is very Disney – soft lights and diaphanous colors.  Twinkly lights – more like fireflies – dancing about in the background.  The transitions of blues from indigo, nearly full dark, to the lightest shade of dark blue, the hint of the great sun giving way, but forever the demarcation light of pure equality for an instant, or a minute. 

Flowing blonde hair with all that natural bounce and curled ends.  Tiny little feet and hands, perfectly formed.  Green eyes.  Slight of form.  A simple long white shift gown.  No sleeves.  The slightest point to the ears. 

And it is to him that I would share all of these almost new, new experiences with.  I think he’s actually interested, as he said finding the edge was something he enjoys doing.  Riding it.  What is his name?  Give him his name.  His name is M. 

 I always thought I’d be a feather.  It seems I’ve found my flower.  And she’s a fucking fairy.  

There is no larger point to this image. 

Too many things are mirroring.  Kissing under a meteor shower.  Both of us being released from a shell – mine of anger, his of fear.  The joy of riding the edge.  What my anger has become.  And I am proud.  I am.  I have become. 

A dragon really did live in me.  And I released him back to his appropriate realm.  Of course he left a bit of him behind.  Don’t awaken the dragon, is all I can say.  You will receive a single warning.  J

I am still a black jaguar.  She’s hungry and ready to hunt.  To devour.  I allowed her to peek out.  To manifest.  You allowed nothing.  Fair enough.

Now a fairy.  The echo from Liz and college can’t be discounted. 

A Lady.

So many things to be, and yet I remain “I”.  The one who chose peace.  Who chose love.  Who chose life.  She who has always been and shall forever be.  Me. 

This is what I was to write today.  And a bit lazy.  We’ll get there.

[random0gener8r]

The Rydel House

A synopsis

  By appointment only.  After making an online reservation you will receive an engraved invitation stating your reserved date and time along with an introduction/background/guideline sheet.

The Rydel House was created by the Rydel-Parker game making empire.  It seems they took their work home with them.  The house is one large puzzle for you to solve.  There are 20 rooms for you to wander through and try to solve the puzzles within.  Once you figure out the underlying theme of each room finding and deciphering will be much easier.  Each puzzle is leveled.  Depending on the level you solve you will either move between rooms, into the second level of the floor or between floors. 

  You arrive half an hour early as per instructions.  You present your invitation and your ID will be checked and the rest of your health info entered into the computer to ensure your safety.   Your key card is issued and, if necessary, release papers signed.  You are allotted a locker to place all of your unnecessary belongings, loose objects and extra clothing. 

  Five minutes before your entrance a guide will go over the house history and guidelines – Have fun, explore, be kind and considerate to your fellow adventurers, personnel will be available to assist you and answer any questions you have within the spirit of the house.  Try not to give away answers and remember – there’s always more to find.  Your key card will allow you to move between rooms and floors.  You must swipe or insert your card as you move through doorways or enter new rooms.  The insert spots are where the locking mechanism would be on the door.  If you forget, you will have to backtrack to the last door you utilized.  ECT.

  Your guide leads you into the foyer and points out the bathroom and card key swiper.  You enter the first room Checking in by swiping your card.  You enter the Library.  Your guide explains that you can only return to this room and the bathroom by using your key card until you solve your first puzzle.    Your guide then introduces you to the room concierge and bids you farewell. 

  “Welcome to the Joad Library where knowledge is power.  Please, make yourself at home.”

So you think, the Joads are a family in the Grapes of Wrath, by Steinbeck.  You begin searching the shelves and find The Grapes of Wrath.  You start to pull it out then it stops and the walls shifts.  You pass through it, inserting your card and enter the Music room. 

  You’re greeted by the concierge and strains of some classical music.  In front of you is a grand piano.  To the right a row of instruments and an old fashioned microphone.  To the left is a row of busts.  Farther down is a stereo system.  You look up and see the words, ‘Music is a key to success,’ written in cursive across the ceiling.    You toodle around with a few of the instruments, read the saying on the ceiling into the microphone and can’t quite place the music in the room.    You examine the busts as you pass but see nothing out of the ordinary.  You head down towards the stereo system and see a pair of headphones hooked into the wall.  You put them on and recognize the song.  You locate it and try to pull it out.  It doesn’t budge.  You press it and the double doors open into the next foyer and the next room. 

You key into the next room.  It’s the Trophy room.  You quickly place the last 5 Superbowl winners in the correct order and move into the inner corridor.  You walk its length and see various puzzles next to invisible doors with leading back into the outer rooms. On the other side of the corridor you see different parts and pieces of a multitude of games.  Most are random.  Then you notice some Triominos.  You see that if you turn them in a certain way they match up.  A door opens and you’re now in the interior maze. 

  It may look like an outdoor maze or the interior of a house (the wall paper) but it’s a straight maze.  Eventually you find your way to the center spiral staircase.  As you climb, you notice four branches leading off the main trunk.  You reach the second and disembark. 

You emerge in the Baby’s room.  The nanny greets you and bids you ‘poke around for who knows what you might find.  Get in the spirit and who knows maybe it’ll move you’.  There is a tub of stuffed animals, a wall of beeping, blinking and buzzing toys; a changing table and playpen.  You do as instructed and begin to poke around but can’t make heads or tails of it.  It looks quite normal to you.  You toss around a few animals, rock the cradle, then spin the mobile.  A little tune tinkles out and a trap door opens under the crib.  You hop down and see three colored doors and a color spinner.  You close the door and spin the spinner.   It lands on green.  The green door opens and you crawl forward down the green tunnel.  You slide your key card and at the top of a few stairs and find yourself in the Master bedroom.    

You’ve only seen it’s like in the Robin Leach program.  The bed looks inviting given the amount of walking you’ve done over the past hour.  You only have an hour more, but you can’t resist a quick lie down.  You pop up after a few minutes and begin the hunt.  The concierge greets you the same way as the last one.  And once again, nothing looks amiss.  You look behind the drapes, open the armoire and test out the numerous chairs.  Nada.  You ask the concierge of she has any tips for you and she tells you to keep on as you have been.  Hey, the fireplace.  You open the screen and the back slides out.  There is number spinner before you.  You spin and crawl down the corridor that opens before you.  You emerge from under the sink in the master bathroom.  After using the facilities you try a door and it opens into a walk-in closet.  Oh, the extravagance.  You see a jacket you would love to try.  You slip it on and check yourself in the mirror.  It clicks open and you find a small elevator.     There are four unmarked buttons.  You press the top one.  The elevator descends. 

When it stops you are in the wine cellar.  A table with several objects on it sits beside the elevator and the walls are lined with bottles.  All this running around has left you parched.  You order a Simi Chardonnay after the bartender processes your key card. When you finish you return to the elevator and try your card.  It doesn’t open.  Glancing around your eyes finally come to rest on the side table.   On the table is a glass with a small amount of wine in it, a pill bottle and a second wine glass with three large books perched upon it.   You study this strange configuration but have no idea what it could mean.  You pull on a few wine bottles but to no avail.  You check the labels but see no pattern.  A painting over one wall catches your eye.  It is a still life of an ox drinking water from a nearby stream and a king with entourage seemingly having a grand picnic drinking wine.  You search around the bottles and find one labeled, ‘Water for oxen, wine for kings’.  You grab it and the wine rack moves aside revealing a hidden staircase.

You return to the other table, hoping you can solve the hidden message in the display.  You once again scan the labels but they do look like regular winery names.  Then you notice a small microphone suspended from the “humidor” you arrived in.  You decide to stick with the stairs and try to find its first floor connection. 

  The stairs open into the Clock Salon.  Clocks of all shapes and sizes fill the room.  The ticking alone is distracting.  And they all remind you that you have about thirty minutes left.  You walk over towards the wall that will lead to the room with your elevator in it.  On the way you notice the words “A stitch in time and all that rhyme,” written on a clock face.  Against the wall you see five round clocks.  You notice that they are not the current time.  You look closer and see that underneath are city names.  You see that the Berlin clock is wrong.  You change the hands and the double doors opens.

  You are greeted into the Blue room.  A small card announces, ‘Order in all things’.   You move towards the front window wall.  You’ve already spotted the blue painting but it doesn’t lead to the hidden elevator.  You have no idea who painted it.  You remember the signature.  You look but it’s more of a scrawl than a name.  You check anyway but don’t see a match in the group on the front wall.   You stare at the paintings but don’t know enough about art to decipher the riddle except that the paintings are by all sorts of different artists and time periods.  You decide to try the inner corridor instead.  You go to the opposite wall and see, after some careful looking the same scrawl.  You hesitate to pull on it so you ask the attendant what is appropriate.  She suggests you feel around the frame.   You do so and find a small button in the upper left corner.  A painting below clicks open and you slip on through.

  The corridor is the same motif as the other.  This time, you see some scrabble pieces         

and the beginning of a game.  You slide the pieces up and around to form a word that would fit on the board.  A door slides open and you are in the maze again. You attempt to find your way through when a beeping and blinking red light comes on on your keycard.   

Your time is up.  A maze attendant locates you and leads you out of the side door, through a bathroom and out the front door you entered. 

  Maybe next time.

  When you return you enter through the rear right entrance, not the same as before.  After enter the foyer, you move into the lounge.  A gorgeous carved oak bar lines one wall.  Low tables and settees dot the room.  The motto, “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” is inscribed in the glass behind the bar.  It’s too early for a drink, so you look at the various objects and pictures against the walls.  You know that the wall opposite the windows leads to the inner corridor.   A napkin at your table reads, ‘Do you know Jack,’  with 16 lines underneath.  Ah ha, of course, you think.  It’s a room about Jacks.  You don’t recognize any Jacks in the pictures but you do notice a small Jack O’lantern figurine.  When you touch it, it leans back on a hinge.  A door pulls back and you enter the corridor. 

  You walk through it, looking at the inner wall, but none of the game pieces are familiar to you.  You can’t figure out which ones to move.  Halfway down the corridor  

  By depressing the lowest button and arrive back in the closet.  You try the second one and go up to the fourth floor.

  The door opens onto a plant shrouded corner of the rooftop garden.  You slip around the corner and come to a sliding glass door into the observatory.  To your surprise it’s all ready open.  The room is glass walls with a raised dais on the wall that connects to the garden.  It’s a huge room with several separate areas – astronomy,  a chess and backgammon set, tables and chairs, fireplace.  The floor is a very large check – dark brown and light tan or something.  The middle of the floor is empty – perfect for dancing.  There are several people milling around – they are the past and present owners of the house.  Maybe ten all together – four pairs of adults and two pairs of children.  They will be chatting and amusing themselves only the maid and butler will pay you heed.  One will greet you, take you keycard, and return it to you with a card.  On the card there will be seven directions.  Dance with Ms. Julia Parker.  Play a game of backgammon with Mr. Louis Parker.  Have Mr. Rydel Sr. show you how the telescope works.  Ect.  If you succeed, they will give you a colored stone.  They may slip it to you or make a big production/history lesson out of it.  If you offend them, you could be banished from the room or the level.    If dismissed you will see on the door out – Know thyself and Emily Post.   

Once you have gathered all seven stones you move out to the garden.  There is a lovely fountain with pool.  Behind it is the magnificent stone and glass encased waterfall that makes up dividing wall between the ballroom and garden.  The inscription above it is,      ‘Without rain . . . .’   What without rain, you wonder.  As you wonder you continue to wander knowing that time is growing short once again. 

As you circle back to the fountain you see some indentations around the bowl that the mermaid is holding.  You pull out a stone and yes, it fits.  You place them all in a slot and  . . . nothing happens.  Then you notice an indentation in the mermaids forehead and the clear stones in the bottom of the fountain.  You grab one and put it in.  Still nothing.  Rain, rain.  What can’t you have without rain – a rainbow.  You put the min the correct order  (if you have been lucky enough to get all seven colors and don’t have to got in and try to negotiate a trade with the young boys and girls ,who have a sack of “marbles” or remember which adult gave you which color and bargain those to get the needed color – ex.  Mrs. Rydel-Parker gave you the green stone.  The boys will only trade you your needed yellow for the green and extra red, you agree then go back and strike up a conversation with Mrs. R-P on the migratory behavior of geese again.)  

Now with all the proper stones in hand, you race back to the fountain, place them in the correct order place the clear stone in the mermaid’s forehead and behold, an elevator rises from the ground between the statue and waterfall wall.  You eagerly step in but the ride is a short one.

After going down the height of the elevator or so, the door opens and you are in the heart of the house.  The walls are an exquisitely hand painted mural of ----- symbols and stuff which do tie in to the four levels of the house and the ultimate secret of each.  In the middle is a large pyramid or four tiered round stone.  It is covered with symbols.  Once you place the correct symbol that goes with each level of the house in its correct position you will have solved the house – congratulations!

      I’m not ready for critique or suggestions (except on above) but welcome questions or clarification inquiries happily. 

    The price can easily be $25 per hour. 

Laser tag facilities are usually $15 per hour (teen orientated/indoor),  $40 for 2-hour outdoor scenarios (adult orientated).   Most family fun centers average $5 per activity.  The mainstream amusement parks go for about $40.  When you add parking and lockers it’s about $50.

  I want to offer free parking along with the free locker and most importantly a park without lines.   

  Extra revenue made on food, drink, souvenirs (theme costumes, accessories, ect.) games? and ticket sales on any other rides.

  The clients need to get in the mood of the theme area.  We must create an atmosphere that will draw them into the spirit of the experience.  Food, shops, and other rides and buildings should conform to this ideal.  If this infringes on Disneyland’s trademark then will have to come up with new theme generation/expression.

  Possibility -  all areas stem from Rydel-Parker house.  Observatory, guest house, backyard jungle gym, kid’s playroom (hi-tech).

    The Jungle Adventure

  No appointment (1 hour long adventure)

  After registering a guide leads your group to a staging area.  There will be 3, one for each course.  You go to the tree area.  There an equipment specialist familiarizes you in the proper fitting, use and techniques of the equipment.  They you practice on a small demo pad in the beginning of your chosen course.  When all are familiar and your appointed time arrives the instructor takes you to the first platform. 

Up you climb – fifty feet into the air and limbs of the tree.  A strategic line-up (based on questionnaire ans.) keeps the flow steady. 

  The instructor aids/watches you hook up to the line once you reach the top and away you go – flying through the treetops gaining an impressive view of the park and surrounding area.  The next platform is nearly on you, so you use your heavy gloves to slow your approach.  A padded moveable arm cushions you stop and you immediately hook up to the next wire (people could replace the pad).  After five descents, you hit Mother Earth again. You swig some water as you walk up to the next platform. 

  You climb into the arms of the tree, a guide checks you in and points out the spreading limbs for your perusal.  Slowly, the next path becomes clear.  The limbs are aligned in such a way as to form a diversity of branch paths.  Some all but touch while others require a more strenuous workout of reaches, leaps and swings.  As you build up your confidence you try more widely spaced limbs.  You are not very high off the ground, maybe 10 feet, so you figure a little extra excitement is worth the risk.

After a series of about twenty trees you arrive at the final platform.

  You drop onto the platform and see your comrades swinging off into the distance.  The guide quickly reviews the process, but who doesn’t know it.  You grab on to the chest high knot, run a few steps and away you go with your feet gripping a lower knot.  You hit the deck running, catch the next “vine” and swing off.  The platforms get a bit smaller and the opportunity for straight vine trades increases.  By the end you could beat Tarzan and George.

  You look behind you and notice a couple from your group seem to have had enough and are hoofing it towards the halfway station.  You head down yourself, relinquish your gear until your return, grab a quick bite and slug more water from your bottle.  Another guide points out your next trail.  You walk for a while and just as you’re beginning to wonder the trail hits a cave entrance.   The attendant checks you in and after a few minutes signals you in. 

  The outside light slowly fades and is replaces with torches.  Holes begin to pockmark the wall.   You hear the squeak of bats and rats and who knows what else.  Little red eyes peer out of several.  Then you come to a bamboo gate.  You try to lift it but it won’t budge.   You search around and conclude that the lever must be in one of the holes.  After several not very comfortable tries you find the right one and it opens.

  Continuing down the corridor you come upon a rope.  It’s just hanging from the ceiling.  You look hard then pull.  You hear a creak and grinding and to your chagrin the gate is closing.  Since pulling again does no good, you go on.

    You come to a section filled with tree and animal carvings.  You step carefully but after the third step there is a sharp hiss of air and several wooden sticks (blunt and very pressure sensitive) thrust up and out of the floor and walls.  You hop forward after being poked and by the time you think to turn around, the entrance is being sealed.  You hot foot in through the growing maze but the slim corridor makes it difficult to wind your way through.  Eventually you make it into the clear. 

  After a bit of breathing room you come to a pit in the floor over which is suspended a tree trunk and a length of rope.  There is a very small ledge next to each wall.  You decide to go for the rope.  You leap and catch it but then there is a big lurch and it feels as though the tree is about to give so you instinctively let go of the rope.  You land on the padded floor of the pit.  It takes you several minutes of searching around to find the button, which opens a crawlway up.

  You emerge into the main cavern.  There is a jewel displayed under a large effigy on an altar against the right wall.  To get there you must hopscotch across small islands of land surrounded by a seeming hot bubbling red liquid.  You step and jump your way across to the altar and grab the jewel.   Suddenly, several jets of smoke issue from the effigy’s orifices, another door closes you in and a great rumbling and bubbling ensues.  You start jumping back the way you came but see no way out.  Then you see that the liquid is rising.  You head the other way and now see another possible exit or at least a possibly helpful lever.  You pull it and escape just before the “lava” fills the room. Steam vents, shaky ground and rope ladders lead you out.  You follow the path back to the halfway station, don your equipment and swing, climb and fly your way across second half of the course to your entry point.   

           If you choose the rock climbing route, you will don appropriate climbing gear for sport climbing, although the course also includes bouldering and top-roping.  The course is between the tree and river course.  The trees give way to a cliff side and various rock formations one would find leading down to a river.

See favorites category – theme park.  The Joshua Park rocks look good.  There will be a good variety that fit in well with landscape and geographical features.  Great landscaper in there, also.

  Would like areas where it intermingles with river route. 

  The river route will need to be windy with white water, pools, waterfalls, low cavern with cool lichen (aka Greenland?) and rock obstacles to circumnavigate.   

              The Haunted House –

  The guest house is surrounded by a large hedge with ten small gates leading inside. There are check-in buildings at each gate.  Twenty people will gather to check in, change into costume if they have brought one, and meet the other players if they wish.  They will be told the basic rules.   At the hour, guests will swipe their card and enter through the gate. 

  At the same time, those players who decide to be Hunters, will meet in a separate bungalow for check-in, costuming (if needed) and a review of their rules given.  At fifteen minutes after the hour, they will enter the house and begin the hunt – there will be no more than 50 hunters (if not enough, staff will be used that will instead be ground and rules keepers. 

  The house will contain some secret passages but they aren’t the main focus.  There will be a dungeon, some creepy effects and whatnot but once again, they are for atmosphere and suspense.  The game is simple.  It is an adult version of hide-and-go-seek.  You get three tags before you become one of the Hunters.  You can somewhat defend, with weapons of wood.  There are some talismans good for a single save.  There will be an enclosed rest area (a “sun” room) a rest area for ten minutes or so. 

  If there is a group that knows each other and are playing a game within the game, there must be a way to handle this.  For example, a group of ten friends schedules a date.  Two of the ten are to be hunters, the rest, prey.  Within the 250 players, they would rather play amongst themselves.  I’d say there is some sort of identifying mark – a bright pin or such to distinguish them. 

Yes, a tagging system that identifies the hunter/clan that has claimed that prey and will hunt them exclusively for the rest of the game.  This is in general.  For the above example, the group goes in with an identifying mark/symbol to distinguish them from the herd. 

  Main problem is , of course, how confusing this would be, especially in low light situations.  A phosphorescent mark maybe.  

  There would also come a time when it’s everyone for themselves – where no prey is exclusive – the last 20 minutes of the game say. 

  Prey are given a swoon time, after being “bitten” to recover and roam unmolested.  The hunter can leave them where they are, or place them in the dungeon or anywhere they like.  Ten minutes of safe time, let’s say.  Specific places would be best – less confusing unless they person is a good actor. 

            Space Odyssey

  The year, 2099.  Earth needs you.  The beginnings of an alien invasion are gathering within our solar system.  Wormhole portals have been set up on six of the nine planets.  They are currently only able to transport supplies and personnel, but soon they will be enlarged to include full armadas.  Probes have infiltrated and prepared the end sites with  charge sites and some rudimentary details. 

Your mission is to fly to one of the jump sites, go back through the wormhole and destroy the inhabitants and ultimately, the base.  It is unknown whether this is another staging area or the aliens homeworld itself.  If it is just another staging area, then you must find a way to destroy the mother world as well.

  At your staging area, you are issued a laser and vest.  The weapons master reviews the proper handling and recharging of your weapon then you get suited up for you flight.  The flight instructor reviews the instrument panel then sends you out to your launch site. 

  Each person will travel in a group of 3-6.  Each launch site has three pods.  Each  pod holds two people with instruments for both.  You must correctly answer/enter your launch code to enter you pod.  A question about the planet which you are heading for.  For example, You are assigned the Saturn run. You must identify which Greek god Jupiter is named after.  Ans. – Zeus.    Nothing very difficult – its line-up number (5).  Its relative size (the biggest). 

  Once in the pod, you must know the correct start up sequence to launch your ship.  The flight instructor and the training material sent to you after you registered would have told you.

  After successfully launching, you will automatically navigate towards your destination.  On the way you will encounter between 3 and 7 trials, including landing.  They can include, contact with an enemy fighter or squadron, asteroid field, ship in distress, navigating through the planets surface features, refueling maneuver, etc. 

  Once you land you exit your pod and enter the wormhole portal.  You slide down a long tube, which connects you to the main “planet.”  You emerge on one of the levels inside the alien planet. 

  Inside the planet there are nine levels for you to navigate.  Depending on your entry level, you will navigate them in a different order.  You must make it across each level to the opposite elevator.  For the elevator to work, you must accrue enough points to access the next level.  You gain points by shooting your opponents or targets.  For example, you slide into level five after your Jupiter landing.  You emerge into a massive cavern filled with icy white stalactites and stalagmites.  After your first few steps, a group of aliens emerge from behind the stalactites.  You begin firing and a firefight begins.  You faint and dodge behind the stalactites killing aliens as you go.  You take a hit and must retreat and recharge your weapon.  You set out again and make it to the elevator.  You insert your id card and it registers that you’ve gathered enough points to move on.   You get in the elevator when it arrives and head down to level nine. 

Had you started on level 8, you’d advance to level 2 after gaining the correct amount of points. 

  There will be four elevators, any of which you can use to get to your next level, given that you have garnered enough points.

  The other levels will include – live targets, mechanical targets (laser cannons and grid lasers), dungeon/medical research level (hostage rescue), warehouse for foodstuffs and equipment, docking bay, main control room (level 1, last one), natural landscape – x2 – one is a replication of life on planet – like a botanical garden, blue light, strange turf, faux stars or such, for relaxation, one is a training ground for Earth ecosystems – maybe two, forest and cityscapes.