“How Did *You* Become Poly, Anyway?”

(From the South Bay Poly September newsletter)

I’ve just written up about 600 words for a friend of mine to post on her blog, about “how I became poly.”  When it’s out, I’ll provide the link.  Of course, in my case, I tend to think that I’m poly by nature somehow—I don’t recall making a decision to “become” poly.  Though in this blog piece, I hedge my bets a bit.  In reality, though, if I chose anything, it was to explicitly acknowledge something I knew I already was.

I grew up as a Christian who believed in marriage for life.  My parents had one marriage:  To each other, for over forty years.  My sisters both married once—for life.

At the same time, though, I wondered why, when my college girlfriend moved away during my sophomore year, she thought I was sending her a “Dear John” letter simply because I told her I was seeing another woman since her departure.  And later I wondered why, if my fiancée truly loved me, she would break our engagement simply because I had once seen someone else.  What did she mean by “love,” anyway?  To be fair, she probably wondered what I meant by it.

Maybe I’ll tell this all to the Unitarian polys, who seem disturbed by the possibility that polyness may not be something that some people “choose.”

How did you become poly, anyway?

Perceptions and Misperceptions

It’s interesting and challenging to be a person who apparently perceives the world differently than others.  I wonder whether it’s neurological, psychological, or something else.  I wonder, am I on “The Spectrum?”  I don’t know.  I just know that I seem to perceive the world differently than most people.  I apparently don’t make the same assumptions that other people make.  I’ve always liked to think that I wasn’t making the same stereotypical judgments that others were making, that I was outside their prejudices.  But how would I know?  I do know that I’ve often chosen non-standard answers to life questions.
 

When I was a around twenty, and pretty much a pacifist, my father asked:  “If someone attacked you, wouldn’t you defend yourself?”

I replied, “It would depend on what I wanted to accomplish.”

When I was in graduate school, a man from India asked me what I would do if I was adrift on the ocean in a boat with a friend, and we only had enough food for one of us.  I said I thought perhaps if we shared and tried hard, we might somehow both end up surviving.  He said, “That’s your Western approach.”  His approach was more like, he would drown himself so that I could survive.

People like to take their own attitudes as obvious—but there’s often a different way of looking at things.

Memorial Day 2014

Remembering my uncle, who fought in the Pacific in World War II.

Remember my father, in the American Red Cross for something like 30 years -- almost entirely with the U.S. military -- including the Philippines, Korea, Japan, Vietnam, and Germany

Remembering all the people I knew while living on airbases -- that would be about 13 years of my life -- in the U.S., Japan and Germany; plus 2 years living a few blocks from an airbase -- including Col. Morgan, who went missing over Vietnam.

Remembering my mother who bore this all and put up with years of my father being away, while she cared for 3 children.

Thinking of my sisters -- the 3 of us were profoundly affected by our connections with the military.

And thinking of our responsibility, as members of a republic, to use our military wisely and not send people to kill or be killed for questionable motives.

Dispatches from Dee Land - 1

Drove down last night – 500 some miles.  Stuck in traffic towards the end, crossing the Big City, but most of the trip was fine—beautiful weather, warm, blue skies; a view of the ocean eventually, then arriving at Dee Land.

Drove down the main U.S. highway, not the Interstate.  Each town along the way, no matter how small, had a McDonalds; most had other mainstays of American cuisine:  Jack in the Box, Subway.  Some also had In-N-Out burger.

Stopped along the way, multiple times.  Bought a diet coke and a token or more amount of food at each stop.  Took about six hours to get to The City.  Then I hit the Saturday night traffic, and it took another two hours to get to Dee Land.

A strange place, Dee Land.  Many children, cartoon characters, parents, smiling employees. A Happy Place.  A Paradise.  A land for dreams and dreams come true.  Fireworks in the evening.  Music emanating from “somewhere.”  Hands coming out of the bathroom wall, holding the lamps.  A bedside lamp that also played eerie chime music if I pushed the other switch.

Slept well, though.  Woke up fifteen or twenty minutes ahead of the alarm, in plenty of time to catch the shuttle to the conference I’m attending.  Much to ponder, indeed!

Through Steppenwolf, Burroughs, et al.

Wandering around in many fields of thought now.  But I’ve always been inclined to sample many things at once.
 

The 600+ page biography of William S. Burroughs (Call Me Burroughs).  Hermann Hesse’s Steppenwolf.  The Great Gatsby.  Shakespeare’s “Richard II.”  

I’ve read Steppenwolf several times, and listened to the audiobook once already.  Now I’m about two thirds of the way through the audiobook again.  This time I’m feeling much more critical about it.

What I notice most of all is the pacing; that’s a strange thing to notice, eh?  Shouldn’t I be struck by the whole idea of a man who is psychologically or spiritually half man and half wolf?  Shouldn’t I be stunned by a novel from 1923 that resonates so much with later historical periods of drugs and sex?  Hesse became quite the rage in the U.S. during the 1960s!

Yet, what I notice most, making my way through this six-CD set, is the pacing.  After one CD, Hesse has barely introduced the main character and his background.  After two CD’s (one third of the way through the book) he’s just met his first other main character.  Half-way through the set (end of CD 3) and the bare hint of a plot has emerged.  After four CDs—about where I am now—a few other characters have appeared, and we’re moving towards an actual event.  “This man is seriously depressed!” I had thought to myself through much of the beginning.  Now I wonder about him as he consorts with people who use drugs, sell their bodies, sleep around.  No wonder the Nazis burned this book!

About Burroughs there is much to say—but what, exactly; and how to say it?  I don’t know yet.  Meanwhile Gatsby—both movie and book—and Richard II hover in the back of my mind.

Yes—I relate to literature!

Crawling Back From Pantheacon

Did go to Pantheacon in February, but I’ve been busy since then—things going on at work and home, making it difficult to write.  But you have to start somewhere.
 

I’ve meanwhile watched several films, leafed through several books, and listened to much music and a few audiobooks.

Audiobooks:  Heart of Darkness, Steppenwolf, Richard II.  Then, the CDs of Doo Wop Music and Punk Rock.  I intended to listen to a five-CD set of the Beach Boys, but I kept putting it off while I did the other stuff, thinking I could renew the set like I did with the ones from the Mountain View Library.  However, the Sunnyvale Library won’t let me renew.  So I’ll have to catch the Beach Boys another time (how about this Saturday, after they’ve refiled the box set?).

I’ve actually already listened to those audiobooks.  I finished a second run through Richard II last week.  The other two I’d already listed to previously—this is my second go-round.

A delay has been the joy I’ve been experiencing polishing my novel Soul Flight a bit more.  I really enjoy this polishing.  I love crafting sentences, making them better and better.

Finally watched The Great Gatsby film.  Also watched Big Sur, the film based on the Kerouac novel.  I’m now watching it the second time.  Also going through the new biography of William S. Burroughs, Call Me Burroughs.  All these I find interesting for various reasons.

Keeping busy, anyway.

Pantheacon (18) – Bringing Myth Alive

My final participation for 2013 Pantheacon was a workshop on Bringing Myth Alive (Techniques to Engage Myth).  I was looking forward to this.  My approach to ritual tends to be psychological, mythic; and I have some attachment to the work of Carl Jung.

 

I was not disappointed.  Jeffrey Albaugh spoke from his background in “depth psychology,” structuring this workshop around storytelling and dreams—specifically the image of the selkie-woman.  He referenced both Jung and James Hillman.

Dreams speak in images, call up personal associations, and then can provoke archetypal amplification.  Reverie allows characters to come forward and speak to you.  I am naturally attracted to this state of mind.

Archetypes are universal, ultimately unknowable patterns.  Paradoxically, all we can know is the archetypal.

In this workshop, we re-imagined the selkie story from alternate viewpoints.  Suppose the man in the story didn’t steal the selkie’s skin; suppose he asks her to stay.  

We discussed archetypes, polarities, and mythic landscapes.  The landscape of a story is usually very important.

I left with a heightened sensitivity to the interactions between autonomous creatures, to the importance of encouraging free choices.

Leaving the workshop, wandering the halls of the hotel, I encountered several people I knew, one of whom I hadn’t seen for years.  I met a woman I knew who read my palms—bringing us immediately closer.  I thought of another woman I’d known online, wondering whether she was somehow a selkie.

And leaving Pantheacon 2013, my head swam with Wagnerian images:  Kings, Wizards, Knights, Flower Maidens, Swans—Lance, Grail, Forbidden Questions.  Tannhauser.  Dreams.

I had a year now to absorb this all, waiting for Pantheacon 2014.