Rain and the Divine

A man named Jesse who turned 40 lately comes up for his coffee. His mind is filled with nutrition and new pathways forged there. Jesse is his own nutritional pioneer. He is tired of eating meat and his life is changing. He speaks of the effect of smell and how smell goes so deep, bringing us to our knees, every time. I share a story about the way cows are sold in Egypt (hanging from their ankles in Cairo doorframes as I witnessed this in 1992) and ended up this morning, the day after, talking to a male cow in a Vashon pasture. He came up to me and allowed me to pet the red hair on his head and even - ah, ecstacy! - his fluffy ears. We spent some time together, this cow and I, there on Wax Orchard Road with the soft grass still wet and moist from rain and I thought of the Hindus who do not eat cows. I grew up until age five with a Texas cowpasture in my backyard and the bovine, to me, is a symbol of great centeredness and serenity. It is amazing that we eat them.

Jesse has a lot to say. He echos a man I met the other day, and a woman, too. All of them are talking about Divine energy as Feminine. The lady on Vashon told me this: "We are in a point in evolution where changes are occuring very rapidly. The reality of Divinity goes way beyond human concepts and qualities associated with feminine and masculine, but if the Divine has a gender, it is feminine." The man I met here on Vashon where I sleep at night told me the Divine is Feminine. My body filled with new blood and new vision to hear this. He also said something else and I'm going to italicize it for emphasis because it is that good. At the end of the day, every man knows women are superior to men and that the whole universe is feminine. the thing about the breasts? That's really about a man getting to lay his head on the heart of a woman, returning to the place he began as a child.

Rain and the Divine0.

Cultivating Love at Vivace

The rain pours down on Independence Day, and person after person swims over to Vivace to enjoy a superbly created espresso, complete with the signature leaf sculpted of the rich brown of coffee and the light white of the milk. The espresso guy receives me kindly and hears the question: "When does a boy become a man? You're a man of Seattle." You know, at least for you.

He pauses from his motion of creating coffee drinks and laughs. "You know, I think I just now got it, just as you said that question. Yes: I am a man!" And now he is blushing.

We laugh. God, how I love revelations. I am well pleased by this work. Everyone is infinitely brilliant and it's fun to watch them realize it.

A man named Michael Wong walks up. He hears about this project and says: "Use my name. If you're going to write about me, use my name." This is in contrast with demure West Seattle, where it's rare that someone actually wants their full name recorded.

Michael, a boy becomes a man when he takes on so much responsibility that he is challenged. "It does have to be a little hard," he explains. "That's when he steps up and becomes a man: when he's willing to provide."

Michael is about to order a coffee, and we begin to talk in that old familiar rhythm of the interviewer and subject, each one of us learning off one another, receiving and giving. Today, this self-described "person who thinks a lot" is thinking about love. "Sex is only sex unless there is love," he says. "Love is what grows. Love is an emotion. It's what you feel when you are holding hands. You can feel that person and their love and your heart melts. When you really love someone, you'd be willing to give your life for them. You walk with them in the park, and it's enough."

He words warm me. I know how he feels; I feel that wave of Love and the way it buoys me in this ocean of humanity and the beauty of Trust and Patience and Faith in both Love and Life.

Michael Wong walks back out into the rain. I wish him well. He is cultivating a love with someone and enjoying that inner glow felt when we give into our deepest longing to feel secure with ourselves and with another. The sky rains and rains and rains and we glow inside anyway.

Independence Day on Capitol Hill

I spent a few hours on the Hill yesterday sourcing from the men and women of this intriguing community. I issued a few prayers first: rather than sourcing from the entire world, I am asking to receive the men who will illuminate my work the most - and mine theirs - through their generosity. I work independently, selling tickets to the July 11 event and interviewing men. I listen. After years of this work, I've learned to listen.

Through the Masculine Eye

Men.
Men vision.
The vision of the male.
Looking at life through the masculine eye.

In one hundred interviews, I will record the themes resonating with Seattle's men today. In the cafes, the dance halls, the streets and damn near anywhere but the bathroom I will assert myself and speak to the men of Seattle, recording on these pages their visions of the past, and of the future and their version of the perfect present. In Capitol Hill on Solar Eclipse Sunday, July 11 we'll play with this information in a presentation geared around manifestation. What is blocking men from living their dreams, and what are their dreams?

I am sourcing my northwest novel The Hour of Blue from these interviews. Thank you, men.