The Nature of Sanctity, or, Because We Say So

My half-brother died last week. Actually, it was 2 weeks ago, of an apparent accidental drug overdose. We, the Southern California contingency of the family, found out 2 days ago that his memorial service would be hapenning yesterday morning. Sometimes communication takes a little while in Utah.

Now, I've missed 2 funerals for members of that side of my family in the past. At the time, it was clear that going just didn't make sense... first, when my cousin's suicide came in the middle of ferocious high school preparations for AP tests and the SAT, and years later, with the overdose of another cousin I'd only known decades earlier. At the time, these decisions were clear. Over time, though, I started to see myself as the kind of person who always prioritizes work over friends and family, and started to use these two examples as evidence against myself.

When Aaron's time came, and I was so moved and grateful to be able to be so present, and sharing in the grief of all of us who loved him coming together in tribute, (RIP, you hairy, level-463 wizard cookie chef, farting machine), I decided I'd never miss another friend or family funeral.

So Monday, I was stuck. My dad was actually awaiting calls from the doctors as to whether his heart was about to give out if he got on a plane (physically... dealing with a lot there), we were struggling to find flights, we're all struggling to make rent and hard a hard time conceiving of hundreds of dollars to fly away and back for one day, we didn't even know most of the small group that was planning to gather, and we were all judging ourselves as crappy family members, for noticing the facts that going just wasn't going to work out smoothly.

Then, in a bizarre coincidence, my dad and I were hit at the exact same time, with the idea to have our own memorial here. I like to think we both received the same spiritual broadcast from God, because I enjoy looking at the world that way. We juggled schedules, me and my brother fought over rearranging appointments, some of the biting effects grief can have came out, but it came together - in a lovely family lunch, and subsequent releasing processes at sunset.

Our lunch wasn't much different than any other lunch my dad, brother and I have had together. Most of our time was even spent talking business and the stock market. But sometimes a little avoidance is something people need in grieving too, and just in holding the intnetion to celebrate and release Vincent's life, our gathering had special signifcance, and subtle psychological effects, I think, for each of us.

We didn't have to fly anywhere, we didn't have to listen to some so-called religious official recite the words he's been taught about death, we didn't have to be in the presence of a no-longer-soul-containing body. We just mourned together. And our service was sacred. Because we said so.

Going From Broke #3 - Gone Overboard

I'm frikkin tired. I feel like I've been running a marathon.... and really, in my terms, I haven't been doing all that much. What I have been doing a lot of is examining my financial picture, and digging into core values and assumptions around oh, little questions like, um... only my worth as a human being.

One of my books seems to shame readers into realizing they shouldn't live on credit, spending above their means. Of course, logically I agree with this assertion by all means. However, it's only been a few months ago that I, realizing I'm trying to build a new business, and bound to see a lull in income, accepted that maybe it's okay to live a stint as young and broke, and let myself accumulate a little credit debt. Well, with my allowance from old Uncle Unemployment Insurance running out, I got scared last week, and thought maybe I should just learn how to live within my means, whatever they are at any given moment. So, I budgeted the rest of the month, and have been trying to nurse $48 to cover life in LA for 2 weeks.

Now, tired, hungry, and lonely, I say "f*c& this."

Living within my means right now would require moving back in with my parents, which would prevent me from two other financial keys in this process: 1) building a client base on the Westside, and 2) stepping into adulthood and acknowledging my real value as a human being. Neither of those things can I do from my messy childhood bedroom in Simi Valley.

So, with caution, and awareness, but a healthy-dose of much-needed self love, I say "Welcome back, citicard! I missed you!"

Stills from an Inspirrupted Cerebellum

With the first post out of the way, and the pressure to make some grand entrance off my back, I thought I'd explore a little what this blog is all about.

I love people who write themed blogs, like my classmate and a wonderful Life Mastery Coach, Rob Gruber, or eco-chic MacGuyver Danny Seo. But I suspect my consciousness will take a more random-spewing approach.

I'll probably get caught in Danny's thematic momentum, and do some chronological narratives of the past. I'm planning to borrow a page from Ryanne, and spread the love in a series of appreciations for the kickass people in my life. I suspect I'll share some vegetarian/vegan cooking discoveries, and probably a martial arts training and stunt story or two. (Working Desperate Housewives next week, so watch for tales...) Of course, with Spiritual Psychology coursework providing an undercurrent for much of my thought, I'll probably have a lot of philisophical musing, perhaps ala some of Josh's posts. I'm certain to lapse into discussion of ways to facilitate growth, as I build my Integrative Personal Training/ Mind-Body Coaching practice.

Will there be a uniting theme? A character arc? Will an autobiographical image develop enough to build suspense in the audience when there's a hit on my life in act II? I don't know. I'll launch this blog, with the biggest life lesson I'm finding now: freedom for joy and accomplishment rests largely on letting go of attachment to outcomes. Know what I mean? Like the cliche'd story of finding love as soon as someone discovers they're happiest single, or... well, you tell me. What outcomes have you let go of lately?