Wednesday, July 17, 2013

YxYY, Year One

The seed of the idea
I first heard about a friend
Who thought I looked like I needed it
Came out of disaffection for an event
grown too large
too self-involved
too sure of itself

to have meaning

What if you took all the good stuff
distilled the essence of all the good experiences you missed
and poured that into one place
then told all the people you always hoped you’d run into
to come there,
far away, in the desert,
beyond obligation
Just for a long weekend
a weekend too short

Just to be

Just to be, with others who also wanted to be

To be children again

Away from jobs and titles
Away from business opportunities
Away from striving
Away from fear

Away from the alienation that a hyperconnected world breeds
unaware of its own inherent irony

What would happen if
Only if

If only 5 good women would come together to heal the world
and put on a show
where 400 of their closest friends
(some unknown to them prior)
could come, and share, and just be

And remind us not to forget childish things
And remind us that the being is in being

together

with like-inspired people
each separately minded
with much to share

in a space where magically
there is no fear
there is no other
there is only

intimacy

The intimacy of an old friend

The abilitiy to be naked, without shame, in ourselves as they are

and, just as on a long forgotten playground
we once asked,
“What’s your name?”
“Do you want to play? I’m making a castle.”


Why do we forget?
What is it about this strange becoming we call adulthood
that makes us close to others, to armor
And take those castles of childhood,
the ones we know from fairy tales
And remodel them into fortresses
like real castles are
full of fortifications and battlements
meant to keep out prying eyes
and secure ourselves
in maddening isolation
unsatisfyingly defended
Safe
from any incursion
from any human touch
from wonder

I guess it’s no surprise.
The adult world brings with it struggles for power
struggles for control
struggles for dominance
The day to day struggle to satisfy basic needs

The children we were
The children of middle class affluence
We were sheltered
We did not have to wonder where our next meal was coming from.

But neither do we now.

And yet, we persist in operating in worlds of scarcity that only exist in our minds.

Why do we hold on to our alienation?
Why do we hold onto our fear?

Of connecting…

Why do we construct a world where such fears are warranted?

Here, they were not.
Together we wove a community
of trust
of honesty

Immune to the few who didn’t quite get it, or see what was happening.

Hakim Bey has his model of a temporary autonomous zone.
And in this nutrient rich environment, a new entity flourished,
Through the benefits of a hyperconnected space
Filled with calls of,

“Wait, how can you not know her already?”

“I haven’t seen you in 15 years.
…And it feels like no time has passed.”

“How can you possibly not know each other already?”

“We must do this again. Every day from now on.”

And as the miles stretched out below the jet plane
As we returned to our everyday lives

There lingered…

Something very special.
A newly discovered or rediscovered portion of ourselves.

And a connection shared.


We now must watch and see
How the corrosive forces of quotidian existence claw at us
And whether we truly can hold the space

Between us

I know we can, but will we?

I hope we will.

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