Nothing Doing

Get Off The Pot

there is a time & place

for everything

except this

because this a time for nothing

a time to do nothing

to save nothing

this isn’t that rainy day

this isn’t when

the cows come home

when the crows roost

so stop waiting

for those eggs to hatch

no matter what you have on your hands

this is not the time or place

to save stitches

to waste your breath

or make yet more excuses 

no more chances

there is no grace period 

it’s not now nor never

neither suits me fine

there is no better time

for doing nothing

Doing nothing is a difficult concept in a culture geared to productivity. Being idle is seen as a waste of time, or as being lazy. Time off time doesn’t really exist when one has laundry to do, a house to clean, a yard to rake, children to look after, pets to tend to, boxsets of hit TV shows to binge watch. When we are deprived of distractions we panic.

What do you do in your ‘spare time?’ Plan a vacation check flights & hotels so you can get away from your routine & do nothing? When you get there is a rush from museum to restaurant – hiking trails – or finding a quiet spot in a park & sitting there breathing 🙂 Doing nothing is hard work/

I have been trying to break some of my busy habits. One step was to stop carting my iPod around with me whenever I left the house. My life had a sound track that never seemed to stop. A sound track that became a buffer between me & what was actually around me. If I ran into friends while on my walk I would be miffed that I’d have to turn off my iPod to listen to them. Or think – don’t they see I’m busy listening.

I recently stopped reading when I take a pee – I didn’t want to piss away those previous moments when I could be reading a few pages of some vitally important book. Why not do one thing at time, right. Enjoy the flow of the moment 🙂

I am not yet at the point where I can do nothing though. The closest I get is on my walks but even those have extra layers: eyes opened for photos, mulling over blog posts, wondering what to cook for dinner on the weekend. I think one of the reasons for my routines is so I can think less. I essential know what I’m going to serve every day for dinner – variations on the same things. i.e. Monday is always rice with veggies, steamed cabbage & steamed salmon. Herbs & spices for the rice will change from week to week.

One of the Artist’s Way tasks was to listen to a side of an lp. To just listen to it without doing anything else. Sit there & do nothing but listen. Let the music be music not background, not inspiration, memory cue or even meditation. It was a challenge. Are you up to it?
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The History of Listology

Week 5 of the Artist’s Way is about possibility & being stuck. Me, stuck at home, thinks there is a possibility a vaccine for covid19 will be found, one that will make some billionaire pharmaceutical even richer & chances are only the rich will be able afford it. Judging by the stats so far, the poor & marginalized will die out anyway. No profit = no cure. But I digress 🙂

Much of the Way looks at how codependency can become a major block to productivity. Sacrificing our time to be of help to others so we can be seen as generous, good, caring. One of the more challenging things about nanowrimo is removing all socially distracting circumstances so we can write selfishly. ‘I can’t help you move because I’m working on novel.’ can end a friendship.

The chapter is full of lists, of us making lists, of lists of things we can do, of things we wish we can do. I made a list of the lists of things & put it on my to do list. I’ll write The History of Listology. One of the task lists was ‘10 ways I am mean to myself.’ Not that I’m self-indulgent but this wasn’t so easy, as I figured it meant now, not how I used to treat myself.

 

My list is 1. snacking too much; 2. no muscle building in my fitness routines; 3. blah TV; 4. staying up too late; 5. not brushing teeth twice a day; 6. not walking as far; 7. hiding in crowds; 8. not speaking up; 9. too much coffee; 10. comparing myself with others. 

 

I am the enemy

in the eyes of strangers

they glance with distrust

sometimes hate fear distain

it’s not as if 

I set out to be the enemy

merely wanted to be myself

merely wanted to play well with others

learn enough at school

to take me through adulthood 

and back to the cradle of earth

didn’t set out 

to harm attack frighten anyone

don’t go out of my way 

to do that today

all I have to do

when sitting on the subway 

look up and there

glaring at me

strangers

sizing me up as the enemy

their plight is my fault

my needs an affront 

to their tender sensibilities

even when I am oblivious to them;

not pushing any agenda forward

being as still & quiet as I can be 

so as not to make waves 

to make them aware 

of my sabotage of their calm

by merely being present

by breathing the same air 

by daring to walk the street

expecting some common courtesy

the same I thoughtlessly extend to them

I don’t see them as my enemy 

only as my judgers

as people caught in a fear

of the unknown

I’m no mystery 

not a blank page 

they can quickly 

with their expectations 

of what I want to do them

to their innocent saintly children

it’s not the children I care about

not the adults either

which is what makes me the enemy

the one with no demands on them 

except to be left alone

to enter into simple human interaction

not laden with anyone’s presumptions

about what power 

old white men secretly hold

about the devious things 

queers are plotting

how we intend to undermine 

their delicate fabric

with 

well I don’t know what

where does the reality 

slip into the fear

the potential of what might happen

sparks the fear

that the enemy is near

the enemy is me

so keep your distance

https://wp.me/P1RtxU-2f6

June

(canceled by covid19 😦 )June 25-26-27 – Capturing Fire 2020 – Wooly Mammoth Theatre -Washington D.C.
 capfireslam.org 

July

(Maybe) All’s Well That Ends Well – Stratford Festival

Hey! You can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee

sweet, eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Something’s Different

March of this year in March I decided to up-grade my glasses – new frames, new prescription. Not a big deal, or so I thought, until I got a few compliments from strangers. By now they are old, to me, yet this past week someone, whom I have known long enough & also whom I have seen several times since the up-grade said ‘something’s different. are those new glasses?’ I replied, ‘they’re the same ones I had on the last time we talked.’

That’s the kind of change I like – one that is subtle. The drama of the big change – I’ll shave my head – no longer appeals to me. When I first shaved my head it was a startling change alright, nothing gradual about it. People started to treat me differently – I had become butch overnight 🙂

I prefer the gradual change. I’ve blogged about some of this before – getting up earlier by setting my alarm 2 minutes earlier every couple of months so I now have an extra 14 minutes to avoid writing every day. Besides if nothing changes nothing changes. So the past few months I’ve been reducing distractions. Most are harmless except that they are distractions.

Some have been hard to do though. Cutting way back on the podcasts I listen to for one. As much as I enjoy them I decided I don’t need the information & subscribing merely to be supportive isn’t enough for me. Why support people who don’t really support me? One podcast was as much about what the hosts were drinking as what they were supposedly talking about. No thanks. Plus less energy goes into downloading & then uploading to my iPod to listen o them. 

On the east coast I only used my iPod for meditation & relaxation in flight or in my hotel room. You know I didn’t miss it on my daily walks. I get to hear where I am without a soundtrack. One less thing to carry too 🙂

Same with twitter, tumblr, even wordpress. Less time spent skipping over things I’m not even looking at anyway. All those product mailing lists I needed up, some of whom send me daily notices of warehouse clearance sales, unsubscribed from so they aren’t cutting up even my trash folder. The less clutter the better the focus.

Focus and productivity are my fall intents. The less clutter the better the focus. 

Not Dead Already

I expected to be dead by 30

which seems to be one of those ages

that many never thought they’d live past

if not dead 

then so deep into fame fortune relationships

that they’d have everything to live for

though I’ve meet people

who had those things at 30

who wished they were we dead

or felt they were dead

they’d lost a part of themselves

to get the dreams fulfilled

dreams they expected 

would make them complete

 

I expected to be dead at 30 

35 at the latest

so when I eased 

past those tiresome ages

I was caught short 

time to grow up

figure out what I wanted to be 

now that I was alive

body fully matured

I’d say now that I was adult

but that really hadn’t happened

I was still a teen trapped 

in a old man’s body

yeah I know 35 isn’t old man

but try to tell that to a 20 year old

40 is ancient

I’m at the age where I’m a relic

adult enough to know 

I can’t turn back the hands of time

& glad those hands have been kind 

to my face

if not to my bank account

 

I never expected to see the year 2001 

let alone this year

figured if I hadn’t bought the farm by then

the world would have imploded exploded 

of its own accord

but like me it is doing

this slow smother

drowned in plastic 

& the need for more

even if I wear all natural fibres 

I’m not helping

to keep the planet breathing

 

so here I am

some sort of adult

looking around

still no surer of where life is going 

than I was when I was 16

then I was sure in knew where I was going

to my funeral at 30

a date fate saw to it that I never kept

I witness what is going on around me

some good some bad

some hopelessly futile

some valiantly optimistic

each time I put another word on paper

I am making waves for the future

ripples that will continue

even if there is not such thing s paper

even if no one can afford to live

there will be repercussion

for living past 30

the consequence of not dying 

young and pretty 

is getting old and sort of handsome 

in the right light

 

being an example

for the struggling striving generations

who just wish we relics 

would shut the fuck up

and die already

https://wp.me/P1RtxU-2f6

every Tuesday 2019

September

17 – Shaw Festival – Sex (Mae West)

22 – Stratford Festival – Little Shop Of Horrors

Tuesday 24 – Hot Damn! It’s Queer Slam – Buddies and Bad Times Theatre

October

15 – Stratford Festival – The Crucible

November

7 – Hot Damn! It’s Queer Slam – Buddies and Bad Times Theatre

December

The Secret Handshake Gallery – feature – date TBA

January

23 – Hot Damn! It’s Queer Slam – Buddies and Bad Times Theatre

March

March 5 – Hot Damn! It’s Queer Slam – Buddies and Bad Times Theatre

April

April 3 – Hot Damn! It’s Queer Slam – Season 6 finales Buddies andBbad Times Theatre

June  – Capturing Fire 2020 – Washington D.C.  capfireslam.org 

Hey! Or you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2020’s capfireslam.org – sweet, eh? paypal.me/TOpoet