PERSPECTIVES
You say it's red.
I say it's yellow.
You say it's red because that's what it has always been.
I say it's yellow because that's the only color available.
Your family says it's red.
The laws of physics dictate that it must be yellow.
Red holds the copyright.
Yellow is the natural choice.
My heart goes out to red.
I have studied yellow.
Red got the majority vote.
Yellow won the war.
Red is enlightenment.
Yellow is salvation.
Somebody turns on the light.
It's orange.
The other day, on one of my late night drives across the Bay Bridge
after another epic recording session, I tuned into NPR hoping for some
light late-night audio fare. What I was served instead was a broadcast
of a recent World Affairs Council convention assessing the situation in
Iraq. Not exactly easy listening, but there's something about long and
unedited speeches by think tank drivers that offers a refreshing twist
in our otherwise carefully rationed 21st century soundbite diet, so I
couldn't resist.
I forget the name of the dude who was giving the speech, but from his
monotone voice and generous dispensal of diplomat jargon I pictured one
of those moustached, bespectacled policy wonks that you see on C-Span
after you've run out of any other meaningful channels on your hotel
room's cable menu. Great program to fall asleep to, but hey, I still
had to make it across the bridge, so I let myself travel down the road
of clean and coherent intellectual discourse on how to stop pissed off
and riled up Iraqis from blowing each others' limbs off.
And then, right at the end of one particularly skillfully crafted
sentence block that had tied the entire history of mesopotamia to the
present mountain of toil and agony, he said this: "But ladies and
gentlemen, looking to the future, I'd like to quote my favorite
philosopher, George Harrison." "George friggin' Harrison!" My ears
perked up as the scary looking girl from the gargantuan GAP billboard
almost beamed her matchstick legs through the windshield. I thought to
myself, "I am now going to hear how my personal hero and musical sage
George Harrison, gone from the living for quite a few moons now, will
inspire future U.S. foreign policy in the middle east."
It's true, it wouldn't be the first time that the world has listened to
a musician when it comes to adult matters like war or economics. I'm
thinking of that testy Liverpudlian band mate of George's doing a
bed-in for peace, or more recently, that scrappy Irish guy with the
four-letter name succeeding in the almost otherworldly endeavor of
squeezing humanitarian dollars out of George Bush. But to have a
soft-spoken mystical type like George Harrison quoted in a hard core
policy speech just blew the nocturnal weights off my eyelids. So
without further ado, here's the precious morsel of wisdom from George
that speaks to all those of us who've found themselves stuck before:
"If you don't know where you're going, any road will get you there."
Happy Travels!
Sven
Having global warming move to the forefront of our collective
consciousness brings with it a new and interesting dilemma. As the
media has whipped itself into a frenzy with the horrors of the coming
catastrophes I am reminded of the phenomenon mentioned by Al Gore in
An
Inconvenient Truth
of moving directly from denial to despair. If you're the kind of person
who's been aware of this issue for a while, doing the little big things
one can do to leave a smaller carbon footprint, you've probably been
hoping for the world to awaken from its slumber. However, if you've
never had the time, interest or luxury to observe or engage in the
broader planetary mechanisms, the "news" of global warming and its dire
consequences could understandably be depressing and paralyzing.
This issue is too big to even blame communists or terrorists or whoever
else, and there are certainly no pills or quick fixes, so defeat seems
like the only viable option. In either case, being inundated with
images of melting ice caps — important as they are in conveying reality
and the urgency of the problem — one cannot help but feel overwhelmed
by the sheer magnitude of the problem, and even for the most
ecologically attuned of us there surely are days when the road to
recovery seems insurmountable and we'd rather just ignore that the
whole thing is happening. I mean, what sane human being can carry the
weight of the world like a second skin and not lose her mind? Where's
the joy in that?
I'm writing these lines because I honestly believe that there is
another alternative besides denial and despair, something not as
drastic or as absolute. A space between, if you will, that tickles the
vast elastic soul bungee inside of us, stretching our imagination
beyond right and wrong, expanding the brittle old feelings of guilt and
scarcity into more luscious fields brimming with possibility. In other
words, I believe there is a good dose of humanity to be gleaned from
this challenge, and the reason we are all here on this earth right now
is because we are ready to step up and be fully human. Yes, it is
possible to acknowledge a huge burden and at the same time find
inspiration and joy in the search for ways to lift it. Yes, the little
deeds count big — they are the distant beacons that light up the road.
And yes, life on earth is a collective exercise, we've arrived right
here with each other, and we will choose where to go next with each
other.
Saying Yes is a powerful way to enter the mysteriously bountiful world
between denial and despair. It doesn't take away the suffering, the
injustice, the polluting, the ignorance and the profiteering that's
slashing and burning the earth, but it is a potent elixir on the burns
of our soul that points our inner weather vane toward healing. And
while there's a lot of "oh no" reports floating around these days, the
sounds of "Yeah" can no longer be ignored. I hear it in architect
William McDonough's
Cradle
to Cradle manifesto calling for the transformation of human
industry through ecologically intelligent design, experienced it during
a recent tour of a local permaculture farm organized by a group called
Daily
Acts, and
read it in the pages of...yes...
Yes
Magazine. Every time I'm on the brink of getting pounded into
despair I seem to get gently nudged by one of these countless
affirmative breezes telling me that these are exciting and creative
times to be living in. We just have to keep each other awake and
inspired.
Keep it Positive
Your Tubertop,
Sven
DEATH
There I was,
just riding my bicycle in the sun.
No worries, no destination.
Pearls of sweat running down my spine.
There were cars and people -- and no forests at all.
Who can hold you?
Who can guide you - but not yourself?
Guidance is never ever an inch or a second apart from where
you stand.
There! This grinding noise - squealing brakes.
I have to get away! I have to get away!
Trees everywhere -- flowers, wreaths...
Now I am sitting still - on granite,
UPright
The sun is slowly melting my back.
There are names and faces,
hundreds upon hundreds,
thousands upon thousands.
I'm feeling it all now.
This place where branches fall and turn to earth,
where all parts splinter into One,
past and future merge into the mother womb.
I am good here in the stillness of Now.
EYES OPEN
Watching what is,
birds,
benches,
two women talking about flower arrangements for their lost son -
sirens,
pedestrians,
talks about the game;
all part of the journey,
all so profound
EYES CLOSED
Darkness that turns into black light
Circles - circles,
an orbiting universe,
inside and out,
endings shaped like beginnings,
little rings dancing toward everybody -
the names and the faces...
EYES OPEN
The candles, the rosaries, the tears,
now discussing lunch -
How are we going to get home...?
EYES CLOSED
Planets - Galaxies - Timelessness
50 trillion years right here in my breath
EYES OPEN
Two women now walking up the path
EYES CLOSED
I am on the Path.
Everything and everyone is on the path
where intersections are choices of many open roads,
of rivers,
of fields,
of tides,
of moments untouched...
...UNTOUCHED -
I ride my bike back home,
through the urban jungle,
after a soul vigil,
at the AIDS Memorial cove
You never know when you might get hit by the realization that you play
an integral part in shaping this world, that all your actions are
reflected in the constitution of the state of human relations and that
you can serve as an inspiration to this state by opening your ears,
eyes and heart to the different and sometimes yet undiscovered ideas
inherent in it. Then it is time to exercise your left brain with yoga
of the soul and fight through the clutter of our modern day
achievements into a moment of clarity. Go to these grand moments as
often as you can, for they will help you find out who you are in this
journey called life.
Today's alignment of words is in a way about the existence of many
different realities and how we humans have a way of relating to just a
few, sometimes even just one. I guess one of the most frustrating
things about this whole "Us versus Them" thing is that we seem to (want
to) understand so little about each other, and that each new assault
really just breeds more ignorance which really is the worst of all
weapons. People fear the unknown, yet instead of stepping out of their
own armor and saying hi to the unknown they stay trapped in their fear.
What's so amazing though to me is that this unknown is really not that
far removed from ourselves, and that when we open ourselves up it
disappears all together. When we look our enemy in the eye and open our
heart we find that our enemy wants nothing more than love and respect
and to be safe and welcome on this great planet we call our home. All
of a sudden the enemy becomes very familiar and we realize that we
really are one and the same. Could words like "enemy" and "evil"
possibly just be figments of our imagination? Things aren't so scary
when we let ourselves be guided by tolerance, because to understand the
world around us is to understand ourselves, and vice versa - no need
for armor anymore! We all can be the Ghandis, Havels and Dalai Lamas of
the world, if we choose to! Hmmm, I feel a song coming on...
The curious and charming girl waits outside the fantastic building. I
say fantastic because somehow it isn't quite the kind of structure she
stumbles upon every day. There are no locks or alarms; in fact there
aren't even any doors or windows, just an aura-like cover that looks
like a giant bell and feels like a velvet cloak. She stands there for a
while, wondering how to enter. At first, she tries to touch the cover,
hoping to find a hole or some other opening, but the more she digs and
pries into it, the harder and scratchier it gets, almost like the
cement wall of an undreamed building. Yet even though she is getting a
bit frustrated with this wall she knows that there is a passage, a
passage that's a secret to most, but not to her. She isn't exactly sure
where to find the key to this passage, but somewhere, from deep down
inside, it is clear that the key is with her, passed on as a gift from
her protective powers, true kindreds of history.
So she waits. And waits. As she's standing there with no particular
plan, her mind drifts away from the access code to this building and
into a landscape that is somewhat obscure yet quickly becomes more
defined as she's letting herself walk down the field. She's now in a
dream within a dream, hopping around aimlessly yet at the same time
gaining tremendous clarity. There are images and characters all around
this field that are as real as only a dream could be: Ancestors,
family, friends, experiences of past and present; there's the will to
give and the road to contentment; there are rocks so solid and flowers
so beautiful; there is patience. Her legs now start walking on their
own, taking her to more wondrous places in the field: Grass so soft to
lie on, a river so wild to swim in, a mountain so high to climb on! No
matter where she goes she feels at home, and with this thought she
closes her eyes, letting the beauty of this world enter her body and
soul.
When she opens her eyes again, she's inside the fantastic building.
It's a warm and friendly place....
CIRCLES
"I've been around since the beginning of humankind," said the old man,
drawing a circle in the air with his gnarled fingers. "Tangled up in
wars and deception, each time a new generation was born the hopes of
the world rested on the children's innocence and honesty for a kinder
tomorrow, until these children had been taught to judge and
discriminate, so they, too, could survive the stringent framework of
adult reality. After many, many cycles of initial hope and eventual
surrender, the weight of generations layered upon generations became so
heavy that innocence and honesty got trapped under a massive pile of
doctrines. Every time another adult turned off the voices that spoke of
beauty, love and adventure, the fog around distant childhood dreams
became thicker and thicker, leaving behind only the fading leaves of
past ideals. Somehow though, the world keeps on turning, because the
children have always protected its great secret of happiness in their
hearts. "I must go now," mumbled the old man, "the journey through time
has been exhausting," and with a smile he added: "See you on the other
side!"
Climbing
Imagine yourself climbing a mountain, braving torrential rain and
dodging mud slides one moment, resting in fields of wildflowers and
watching snowcaps sparkle in the sunlight the next. It's a steep and
dangerous climb, taking you across glacial crevices, slippery
embankments, and, for the last 1000 feet, up a slope so rugged and
wind-exposed that you're forced to mobilize reserves you never knew you
had. When you finally reach the summit you are joined by a crowd of
people getting off a monorail for a leisurely snack at the restaurant
and a quick peek at the panorama.
I hadn't heard from my friend Mark since our college days, when we
spent all our free time together, listening to music, and going on
hikes. Now, ten years later, we were standing around a huge bonfire in
the Santa Cruz mountains, celebrating the completion of his new home, a
tree house perched in between the robust branches of an old cedar.
After we had reminisced about the good old times and caught up on each
other's lives since then, I asked Mark what he was going to do next. He
turned to me and said: "I'm going to move a little closer to the fire."
IS PHILOSOPHY DEAD? DOES THE UNIVERSE HAVE AN END? OF LOVE AND LIFE AND
WHY THE SET IS BIG IN JAPAN.......
Let me tell you folks, I've been touched this month! Whether
it's because Mars is only 43 billion miles away from Earth or maybe
just because summer is here I really don't know, but life has been
knocking on the door rather impatiently, unwilling to wait for me to
open. It's almost as if time has been compressed into just one little
moment, here and now, reminding me that one little moment is exactly
what our lives on this planet represent on this crazy trip through the
universe.
Speaking of the universe and time, it didn't even come as a
big surprise when I walked into one of the stalls at the old office
bathroom yesterday and found a crumpled up copy of Time Magazine
staring at me with the bold headline "HOW THE UNIVERSE WILL END." "Now
that might explain the intensity of this last month - the broken cars,
bones, the outpour of emotions, the fear and laughter, the hopes and
desperation," I thought to myself, "maybe the universe is getting ready
to wrap it all up and we better get it all out right now." Yet at the
same time I was also a bit suspicious 'cause one of the pillars of my
own philosophy is that there is no beginning and no end, that these
concepts are nothing but fabrications of our own insecurities of not
being able to define such a limitless field of ideas. Well, they're
pretty clever, those folks at
Time/Warner/AOL/Bertelsmann/Everyothermediacompanywhomakesprofit, they
give us a nifty little graphic that kinda looks like all the
carmaceutical ads on every other page of the mag, easily digestible
with colors depicting the Big Bang in purple and the Degenerate Era
(that's when planets will detach from stars and evaporate into thin
air) in red. What they don't explain is the black background onto which
the whole model is printed, but just the statement that "the universe
is bigger than the mind can conceive" almost made me fall into the
toilet.
I should have known about that crumpled up Time Magazine a few
days earlier when I met a guy at a party who had gotten dangerously
close to getting a Ph.D. in Philosophy (which, by the way, seems
redundant...) but decided to drop out because he realized that
Philosophy was a dead science. Needless to say, his thesis was going to
be on existentialism, but I still felt sad to hear him say that
philosophizing gets you absolutely nowhere in this day and age. But
then again, maybe "nowhere" is really where you wanna go, kind of like
exploring the black background behind the fancy model of the universe
in Time Mag.
I don't know about you all, but to me the most exciting and
meaningful thing to do in this world still is to sit on the beach with
your friend and wonder why the hell we're here, and I don't really care
whether it'll get us anywhere in society. It just feels good, like
we're expanding along with the universe, riding the waves of the Big
Bang into the sweet unknown. You can think of all kinds of scientific
models to describe this ride, but ultimately what we're talking about
here is Love, philosophically and svenetically speaking. How could you
possibly better explain a universe that doesn't quite know where it is
expanding to than with Love, which is guided by the same principles of
motion and expansion into open spaces, not worried about a beginning or
an end. Just like life itself, love is a brief moment of expansion, a
possibility for understanding the beauty and magnitude of the universe
without leaving the moment. So I guess, if I understand myself
correctly, and by logical derivation, what I'm trying to say is that
life is the possibility of love.
Really, not much more needs to be said, but I do feel like I
have to leave you with a response I wrote to a 22 page letter I just
got from a good friend. He's been living and teaching English in a
remote place in Southern Japan for the last 2 years and his story about
his struggles with rejection and miscommunication is the story for so
many of us who are trying to find our place in this universe. Here
goes:
Most answers to any questions you may have are to be found in
the story itself. Man, read it out loud to yourself and hear how
beautifully you describe a culture, your own feelings and other
people's reactions to you. This is what it's all about, dude, it's life
screaming at you: "Live me, live me!!" and you're just not realizing
it. What you're experiencing is life at its fullest - asking questions,
wondering why the fuck...?, absorbing banality and exposing yourself to
defeat. All you have to do is open your eyes and see the beauty of it -
"Look people, I'm alive, I have a pulse and it's pounding, I'm angry,
sad, frustrated, curious, but I'm here to experience it all cause I'm
human, I'm humanity, and it's pretty damn exciting to be here. I cry,
but my tears are the sign of life, they are the rivers of joy that only
flow for those who have the courage to face their fear and the beauty
of imperfection. You've worked so hard all your life, my friend, to
stay true to your word, to let your actions reflect your kind spirit,
now it's time for the easy part that seems to be the toughest for so
many people: Be happy and in the moment, enjoy the outcome of your
labor, the sweet fruit that you've been cultivating through sunshine
and rain, that you've been giving yourself to, digging through the mud,
getting scratched and watching it grow from seed to shining fruit.
You've gotta eat that fruit, it's the most selfless thing you can do,
cause it'll bring a smile to your face and that's where new seeds grow,
where you inspire others to confront their own pain and celebrate your
own growth. Don't let it rot in the dust bins of self-pity and
bitterness, for you are truly a beautiful spirit and the world needs
you. Keep writing, it's powerful, and remember that there are people
who truly care about you, no matter how far away you may be!
Dancing on the brink of the world,
Always,
Sven
NERVOUS ANXIETY
I've got that nervous anxiety of a five year old anticipating Christmas.
It feels like my stomach is dropping its contents down a canyon the
size of half-dome.
Flies are gnawing on my guttoral housing and worms are crawling up my
intestinal tubes,
pushing and slowly reeming their way to the center of sensitivity.
This time I can't find the glossy wrapping paper to neatly box up the
ugly reality into nice and cryptic poetic verses.
This time I can't find the strength to insist on personal empowerment
and "love yourself" crap.
For just this moment I will not be the lonesome warrior who keeps his
head and composure through the magical journey called life.
For just this moment the lonesome warrior is lonely.
Darkness looms around him, and even the laboriously acquired
philosophical consolations get devoured like sparks by the depth of the
night.
My heart, the grand central station of arriving and departing emotions
is preoccupied with the departure of one huge train of love, and at
this moment I am standing on the platform waving the still visible tail
end goodbye, with tears in my eyes.
I know it's just a matter of time until the scene will be bustling
again with new energy and activity,
but for this moment,
for the eternity of these seconds,
the universe seems like a dark alley into nothingness.
WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!
The mind wanders with its mighty powers to magnify, reduce, belittle,
compare, distort and dwell.
The purity of my heart's feelings is kicked in the face by the mind's
nagging desire to sprawl out the pain and roll it out like a pizza
dough.
But not this time.
Darkness has its place for love lost.
Night follows day.
Something lost makes room for something new.
I am going traveling!
Once again.
I'd like to share a few reflections on the state of life on this planet
that came to me recently while being sick, overworked and underpaid,
and also during my time so far as a sentient being on this little round
ball. It seems that somehow we've trapped ourselves in a frantic race
to build, produce and expand at all costs, driven by the fear that if
we slow down, everything is going to collapse and the lights will go
out. Well, the lights are going out anyway, and if you really think
about it, it's the logical consequence of extracting freely from a
limited source. The idea of having to be more "productive," of having
to have more tomorrow than we did today, is like a drug that lulls us
into a reality that's far removed from some of the basic principles of
nature.
In this great universal balance of elements it just won't work
in the long run to take out more than we put in. Barren forests,
polluted air and the loss of fertile top soil are the physical
manifestations of this imbalance, but if we really look inside our
heart and soul we find that the origin of our physical desolation is
buried beneath all the images we feel forced to project, making it so
hard to find out who we truly are. If our souls are in a state of
confusion and unrest, so will be the world around us.
It's amazing that to rest, reflect and be at ease has become
one of the toughest challenges of our society. There is no time or
justification for being in a state of mind that is not already planning
our next move, thinking of ways to keep ourselves busy. One would think
that to do nothing would be the easiest task of them all, but in a
world intoxicated by distraction it might be the toughest exercise in
the book, comparable to a junkie trying to kick his drug addiction.
You might ask why it would even be desirable to do nothing, to
empty your mind. Sounds kinda boring. Well, I think it's those moments
when you're able to free yourself from all distractions that you
actually get to know yourself, not through the many filters of society
but straight to the core of your being. It's a little scary at first
because we may not always like what we're seeing but the more you get
to unravel the ropes of history the closer you'll get to who you as a
spirit in this world are and the clearer it becomes that you are
beautiful and loving at the core.
It is so important to find yourself through this jungle of
mental weights, because to be conscious of yourself is to be conscious
of the world around you, and that's when you start to understand the
concept of balance and you're able to give of yourself. Once you're
more familiar with your own spirit it becomes so much easier to listen
to others with clarity. The more people are willing and able to listen,
the more energy will shift toward balance, including not only the voice
of people but of all living beings on this earth.
At this point in my exploration as a human being this seems to
be the key element in opening the mental prisons we've put ourselves
into. You can counter injustice with rage, but it will only lead to
more injustice. You can fight oppression with destruction, but it will
only lead to more oppression. The most powerful and fearless state is
that of compassion and tolerance, providing the ultimate security of
knowing that there are no boundaries. The beautiful thing is that you
need no books, no gurus, no money and no status to be a loving soul,
just the willingness to embark on a fantastic adventure to your higher
self and the time and patience to get there.
"Blind Hopeful World" is the best I can describe the year 2001 - so
painfully frustrating and yet presenting opportunities to see the light
in places that without all the suffering wouldn't exist. I don't know
if the current state of the world is what past science fiction writers
had in mind when they projected the 21st Century, but it is becoming
increasingly clear to me that evolution isn't really an option for the
human race. We're more or less the same we were a few thousand years
ago - fighting and bickering over power, land, and the conflicts our
ancestors weren't able to resolve. And yet, with all that we do to each
other we're such lovable creatures, thirsty for warmth and compassion,
just unable to step over our own shadows and live in the present. I ask
myself all the time what it is that I can do to bring peace to this
world, in fact, it seems to be the biggest theme on my journey through
this sphere, and I suspect it will be till the day I die. We've had
saints, we've had revolutionaries, we've had politicians - we've got so
many talking heads and experts these days that there don't seem to be
enough people left to listen. But really, peace and wisdom are born
within us, each one of us has the key to the universe, it's just a
matter of opening your heart. The most important lesson is that
everything we wish for is right here, and it always has been,
throughout all of history, and nobody but yourself can make you a
loving and aware person. Forget about evolution, the most radical
illumination anyone has ever had is as old as the universe, and that's
not even a temporal or spatial entity. So I think what this year has
brought me is the realization that it's the little things that really
give meaning and strength to our souls - we do them because we want to,
not because we've been corrupted to do them, feeling judged, pressured
and ultimately completely lost in the rat race of "power," "success,"
and "progress." Just be kind and listen to your inner voice, that's all
the universe is asking of us.
Peace to All,
Sven
THE END OF THE YEAR
It's the end of the year.
I'm glad it's not the end of the line.
Or the end of my luck.
Or the end of your beauty.
No, it's the end of all the fantastic sales,
the shelves filled with a plethora of plastic toys,
game boys, sweet fragrances, electric tooth brushes, cell
phones, and nuclear watches indicating the exact end of the year.
It's love.
It's practical.
It's fair.
We care.
But don't worry!
All the utensils will be back next year,
just a little shinier and radically modified,
so the end of the year will be worth your while.
I need new shoes! I need an iPod! I need more anything!
I'll give you the double-headed remote control shaver, so you
will no longer be able to ignore my call for a 35-speed mountain bike
that I have so passionately been yearning for.
I love you.
I've been saving all my love to give to you,
here, at the end of the year.
Or the end of time.
Or the end of my love.
I will gracefully accept your gift, or cash, or a money order
— but I will refuse it at first, or at least be thoroughly flattered,
as if to signal that I never expected such generosity on your part.
It's the end of the year,
the time to inventory our unbalanced emotional budget.
Time to mourn the lost year.
But I'm happy!
I can drop my sarcasm like an actress her mask.
I can go out into the rain and breathe the cold winter air.
There is no end.
And no beginning.
The air counts no years.
And the rain is my friend.
I'm lucky.
I love you.
Even without the iPod.
