On Desire (revisited)

In honor of the last day of my daily writing challenge, I am reconnecting with the same topic I wrote about on the first day: desire. Here’s the original post. That day, I asked an important question. Can desire be trusted?

Here are a few things I’ve learned about desire this month:
1) Desire is not the same as disintegration. I can fully desire something while keeping my values, self, and identity intact. In fact, I can use desire to live life with more integrity.

2) I trust myself.

3) I can’t control most things, and desire is just one of many things I can’t control. That’s okay.

4) Desire is not an action. Desire is a guidepost. To desire something is not an automatic decision to pursue that thing. The decision stands in the way of action. Desire can be heeded, and it can be brushed aside.

5) BEING OUT OF CONTROL IS NOT DANGEROUS. BEING OUT OF CONTROL WITHOUT A SUPPORT SYSTEM IS DANGEROUS.

6) Yes. A line can be drawn between joyful attraction and dangerous obsession. And there are so many different kinds of love, that this binary doesn’t really exist anyway.

I wrote last month that “I might be running away from my own stubborn refusal to allow my desire to take up space.” That was true. I don’t want to tell some false transformation story here. I’m not much better, a month later, at letting my desire run free and do its thing. I’m still scared of it. I’m still scared to laugh a full belly laugh because someone might take advantage of my joy. I still feel cautious about showing too much interest in strangers, out of fear they will rope me into some complex plot to drain me of all my money and energy. But something has shifted. I wouldn’t have been able to write that list a month ago, and I owe that to my daily writing. Sometimes it was hard as fuck to force myself to write, but I combed through my values, behaviors, and experiences in a really unique way. I wouldn’t have been able to do this in any other format. For that, I’m grateful.

Thanks for following along this month. If you want to get to know me on other platforms, please consider following me on Instagram, joining me on Patreon, or subscribing to my YouTube channel. I’m gonna switch back to poetry now. At least for a bit.

On Driftwood

This morning my grandma and I woke up in the darkness at 6am to shoot a music video.

We wouldn’t have done this, except we were walking along a remote beach last week, and came across this abandoned homestead made of driftwood. There once was a community of people living here, my grandma said: I used to see them when I walked my dog down here years ago. In place of the colorful tents and long-haired men that once nestled into the sand, only a driftwood castle remained. They built this massive, angular structure, the center of their village, the gathering place. They tied emblems to the ends of the bone-dry branches: old Nikes, beautiful glass bottles, buoys, and strips of colorful ribbon. They painted a few branches with vibrant blues, yellows, and pinks, penning all-seeing eyes and names of past lovers. They put up a plaque for someone named “Red” who died there in 2009. There were clear outlines of different rooms, like the Aztec ruins in New Mexico.

When we first came across the driftwood complex, I felt like I was in Peter Pan’s wonderland. The place had magic. I felt so inspired. I casually mentioned how great it would be to shoot a music video there, and my grandma said, why not? We should do it.

I don’t think many people can say that their grandma was the videographer for their music video. I’m feeling really blessed to be in this position. My grandma happens to be a really masterful photographer, so she’s accustomed to being behind the camera, and was really excited about collaborating on this project with me. And I’m accustomed to being in front of it – it’s part of my job as a professional musician. I especially love shooting music videos where I’m interacting with nature – I shot one on an iPhone camera last fall, and made one with Lilac Milk last winter.

So this morning we drove out to the beach for sunrise and shot the first footage for the new music video for my song Meteor. In the castle on the sand.

Meteor

sit with me
gaze into space
can you hear
the stars embrace

stay with me
on the bridge
blankets up
to the edge

of our faces
of our chins
breathing places
we’ve never been

I know, I know you
I know, I know it’s hard

the meteor may never come
but there are songs yet to be sung
the meteor is slow to fall
but you and I talk through it all

take in
the night sky
as it bows
its head to cry

walking past
the morning birds
they understand
how much it hurts

to know you can’t
go back and change
who you were
or who you hurt

I know, I know you
I know, I know it’s hard

the meteor may never come
but there are songs yet to be sung
the meteor is slow to fall
but you and I talk through it all

I know it’s sad
but I’m here
I know it’s sad
but have no fear

we’ll lift up
our heads tonight
and won’t look back
on who we might have been

I know, I know you
I know, I know it’s hard

the meteor may never come
but there are songs yet to be sung
the meteor is slow to fall
but you and I talk through it all

the meteor may never come
but there are songs yet to be sung
the meteor is slow to fall
but you and I talk through it all

Kyoto

for my dad

The stones that we left there are calling to me
Have they grown into boulders? Or rolled to the sea?

It’s a myth, oh father,
that we carry these stones
But the memory heals us,
so we’re no more alone

You show me the water splashed up on the stones
You bring out the beauty in Earth’s grey-green bones

It’s a myth, oh father,
that we carry these stones
But the memory heals us,
so we’re no more alone

So we’re no more alone

MeYouUs

he kneels over me
all anger and silence
I know I should leave
but I feel so frightened

you kneel next to me
all lovely and caring
I know I should stay
but this is so scary
but I feel so wary

I’ve kept it safe within my memory
the pain of his sin
threatens me, and you, and us

here I stand
trudging through hell
before we began
I buried myself

it’s not yours to hold
but you’ll be the witness
this thing is cold
but I won’t let it freeze us
I won’t let it freeze us

I’ve kept it safe within my memory
the pain of his sin
threatens me, and you, and us
me, and you, and us