Sunday, December 31, 2006
Quick & Simple.
Happy New Year, Friends and Family! And Old Year, too!
Found this picture of me with my parents on New Year's Eve 1966. I guess I really had to pee. Still do. How little changes.
2006 held lots of endings, beginnings, cross country moves, false starts, highs and lows, and a constant need for redefinition of what it means to be truly fluid in one's approach to life.
What am I thankful for? Every single bit.
AIDS/LifeCycle. My friends. The difficulties, the successes, the reconnections and the realizations when aspects of one's life have needed to change. My family and their unconditional support and love in a situation that would make many shake their heads in lack of understanding.
My health, my strength, my sense of humor, my ability to learn from my history, my ability to maintain hope and gratitude even in the most dire of circumstances.
The chance to work in New York. The latitude to decide to return to San Francisco. A wonderful job opportunity working at a cool place for great people with integrity and heart.
My dog, a sweet and gentle companion, happiest when he is just by my side, wherever that may be.
What do I wish for 2007?
Peace. Laughter. Good music. Learning and understanding. Sunny morning bike rides. Rotisserie chicken and fish burritos. Bills paid on time. The ability to save. Walks at the beach letting Fugee chase the gulls. Stability. A job that allows me to be me--and allows me the chance at a more stable lifestyle, working with and for people I respect.
Time with family. With friends. Simple, honest, present. A return to a more active lifestyle. More fresh air, less "settling".
That's about it.
And I wholeheartedly wish every success and love, moments of quiet and energy, heart and compassion, for you. You make the tapestry of my life rich beyond compare.
I'm heading cross country on the 3rd. Yahoooooooo, Budget trucks! Connecticut has been a strange and entirely unexpected adventure for 2006, and I cannot express how grateful I am to have been with family for four months, and to have reconnected with old friends and lost relatives. Just great.
Hey- if you'd like my email updates from the road, let me know. I will ONLY send them if you say you'd like to read them. If you'd like to just check in occasionally, that's cool too. Just check out http://hermesbrainbelch.blogspot.com for the latest minutiae and musings eddying through me noodle. (I won't be offended if you opt out. Email, while an inferior method of keeping in touch, is one way of maintaining the ties to those who matter to me.)
Thank you for being.
Peace/Namaste
Craig
______________________________________
craig goward hermes
“In different hours, a man represents each of several of his ancestors, as if there were seven or eight of us rolled up in each man’s skin,—seven or eight ancestors at least, and they constitute the variety of notes for that new piece of music which his life is.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
Sunday, December 24, 2006
ho.ho ho!
Ho Ho Ho,
http://www.elfyourself.com/?userid=a1830fdaf36524858e63ee8G06122412
Happy Holidays!
Craig n Fugee
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"And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more"
~ Dr. Seuss
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Pure Joy.
It's funny how the Christmas season makes it seem like it's been a thousand years since I last hugged my Mom. And at the same time, it was just yesterday. I still feel her presence around me to a very strong degree.
We were people cut from the same cloth--generally laughing, embracing new concepts and odd ideas, a little left of normal. Hey, she was one of the very first people to come up with the concept of aerobics classes for women, water aerobics, she took and taught belly dancing in the '70s in conservative Connecticut. She acted, taught music, studied myotherapy, took rock climbing though DEATHLY afraid of heights, was involved in numerous acts of charity, heart, compassion and friendship.
To me she was a loving, laughing, singing, shining example of what it means to be a luminous human being. Surviving multiple tragedies and always coming through the other side more grateful, more joyous, more loving.
I remember the profound joy she took in the holidays. Starting the day after Thanksgiving, she became giddy like a child, unwrapping precious ornaments and figures, each having a unique history that we enjoyed hearing each year. She also spent Christmas remembering her beloved Aunt Dottie, another free spirit guided by a love of life, family and song—and who was taken too young.
As Jane was putting out the Christmas elves that Mom & Dottie made the year I was born, she said, "These are kind of creepy." I could see where she'd say that. Without the history, they are just a bunch of 40+ year old felt scraps and detached heads--like there had been some horrible incident at Santa's holiday soirée. Perhaps a tragic baking accident or a serial Grinch.
But to me, when I see these sorry little dwarves, I hear her laugh, see her tear up at the thought of Aunt Dottie, smell chocolate log cookies baking in the oven, and hear Julie Andrews singing "Bells of Christmas."
I am so glad to see my brother sharing our genetic love of Christmas with his kids, telling the stories, making sure the lights are just right, as my niece, feigning annoyance, rolls her eyes and says "Dad just has to tell the stories about every ornament..." secretly loving the fact that he does.
When I found this picture today, in a box not opened for 20 years, I was transported. I remember the camera that took it, a Polaroid Swinger, was a Christmas staple.
Amongst the collection of paper scraps, faded pictures of forgotten moments, torn snapshots, the smell of mold and old chemicals, memories lay ready to trigger the heart.
I wish my Mom had lived to see her beautiful grandkids. She could have shared the same old dusty stories and ornaments, with a vibrant and heartfelt love, which made them sacred.
Mom, I miss you, but as it is Christmas, I hear your laugh, I feel you here.
Thank you.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Share.
We are so fortunate. What do I have to complain about? Please consider going to http://www.keepachildalive.org/donate.php and for just a dollar a day, keep a child alive. Share your love with a stranger a world away. We are all Family. One.
Thank you, Alicia and Bono for the poignant song, video, and passion to use your heart and position to make a difference.
It is our obligation.
Peace.
Thank you, Alicia and Bono for the poignant song, video, and passion to use your heart and position to make a difference.
It is our obligation.
Peace.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Why?
“We have come into this exquisite world to experience ever and ever more deeply our divine courage, freedom and light!”
~Hafiz of Persia
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Been Down One Time, Been Down Two Times, Oooh Never Going Back Again
What a trip.
Four months has seen a dizzying collection of highs and lows, or recrossing bridges, of reality bitch-slaps, and lessons in remaining flexible.
It's been an intense trip down memory lane, stopping by to visit family, friends I haven't spent time with in 16 years, to take a brief peek at life in the Big City, to go to my hometown of 29 years, to test the waters of life outside the realm of comfort, predictability, or some might offer, common sense.
I was leaving the number 2 most expensive city in the country to try to make a foothold in the number 1 most expensive city. This was quite a leap of faith, but the one thing I was sure of was that I didn't know the outcome.
Three layoffs in basically six years in SF had put me roughly $30,000 in the hole. To be clear, I didn't squander money on ANYTHING. I didn't go out drinking, never bought clothes, didn't go to movies, shows, or a gym. My one extravagance was eating carry out food for many meals. Since the only readily accessible market was an overpriced Cala which had crap selection and high prices, I could easily justify 5 bucks for a burrito or 10 for a full chicken dinner. The ingredients alone would have cost me more than that.
Where'd the money go?
Credit card debt resulting from having to put my COBRA healthcare payments on a card. At $300+ a month, they add up. Add to that $100 dollars a month in co-pay for three scrips, $200 dollars in vitamins, added to around $1500 rent and utilities, well, there you have it. I could have just let the healthcare lapse and return to Ward 86 at SF General, but I would never be insurable again. I couldn't burn that bridge in good conscience.
On a side note, the macabre ghoul in me found an astonishing irony in naming the AIDS ward at General 86- as in washed up, done. I am nowhere near ready to be 86-ed.
Well, if I am to be completely disclosing, I did afford myself an extravagance or two. I drastically increased my collection of sacred objects--Ganeshas, Buddhas, crystals, Thoths, Jesuses, Hermeses, books, incense, tarot readings. At the time I was going through a very dark hour of the soul: a job that was disappointing, underpaid and emasculating, a period of depression and shadow exploration made more baffling by concurrent internet hacking and self-medicating substance abuse. I needed a tangible, visible reminder of the deeper truth, the beauty, the spirit and Path that guides our lives. These reminders kept me sane. Well, as sane as I have ever been...
Another nicety I afforded myself, was the insistence that my staff feel appreciated for their hard work. We were all working for next to nothing, I making significantly more than most. If a $6 box of tangerines could make people feel appreciated, I could justify it. Not that I had anything to spare, but I felt I should offer some of my comparative bounty to my coworkers. I'd do it again. They're worth it.
Funny, makes me think of my first Friendster testimonial from my roommate and good friend, Mike. He said, paraphrasing here, "Craig's the type of guy who'd give you the shirt off his back--even if he didn't have one." There is truth to that and I am trying to be better at self-preservation.
Back to my freeform narrative.
As layoff number three was hurtling toward me, I, with only about $2,000 in the bank and not sure how I would pay the next month's rent, decided to do something crazy. I wanted to prove to myself that I still had some of my inner fire and passion, and that I still had it in me to do an AIDS ride. There was no way I should have been able to do this. I was in awful shape, exhausted, undernourished, depressed. I thought, "Okay, these things I know. But I also know, as old Nicksie would say, 'And I am stronger than you know'; I had the fortitude to push on, past exhaustion, sadness, loss of hope. And my body, while muttering "What the FUCK are you doing to us?", took me down almost 600 miles of California roadway, over mountains, past historic hurdles of shyness and avoidance, into a new chapter of my life. Along a roadside of surf, missions, artichokes and cilantro, I found a Craig who would entertain the thought that he just might be lovable. My path collided with a mirror who was unconditionally loving, funny, troubled and working it out. This event changed my thinking.
When it became clear that I would not be finding a job in SF with enough time for me to meet my financial commitments, I rethought an offer from family and friends to give New York a shot. Reticent in the past to do this, I knew it would be a challenge to meet a social circle or to find a job at a level that I could afford to live on. These challenges were still there, but this time there was also the mirror from the ride. I needed to see what was there in this individual, to see why we'd met.
I know a lot of my friends would get all, "OOOOOH, Craig's in lovvvvvvve. He's moving because he's in lovvvvvvvve." This is a sort of helpless situation as the more one denies it, the more "Me thinks he doth protest too much" rears its ugly head.
I feel I am being honest when I say the mirror was not the reason for the move--it was a nice perk, and a chance to squelch the 'What if...'
If I had stayed in SF another month or two instead of moving without finding a job, I would have had to move back to CT anyway to avail my brother and his family of their beautiful offer to live in their home as an active part of their family.
By moving earlier, I was moving from a position of power, as opposed to moving according to circumstance and necessity. And, hell, I would get to learn if there was anything to Mirror Man. I'm always up for a good learning, not one to shy away from a hard lesson.
I arrived in Ridgefield, CT a beautiful Revolutionary War era colonial town, full of Frosty WASPys driving SUVs and residing in 10,000 square foot homes. Where deer and fox trot across your yard on a daily basis. Where multicultural diversity means Europeans with blond OR brown hair. Where pedigree, salary and ideology amongst the majority bear striking similarities. I think I did spy one East Indian family. Must have been an anomaly to keep the census statisticians on their toes.
I don't mean to sound down on CT. I LOVE Connecticut. It is my roots. My New England roots go back 14 generations. I lived here 29 years.
It's gorgeous here, the people are genuinely kind, I love the seasons. It's just not my world anymore. This was glaringly evident when I went passed my old home. It looked abandoned, fallen, as if it has stopped being a place of life after my parents were gone.
Living in rural CT in a town without public transportation, it was a largely isolating experience. This in NO WAY negates how grateful I am to be here with my unconditionally loving family, who have been supportive in every way.
After one of my recent blogs, a friend from CT took umbrage at what they thought was my being dismissive or looking down on CT. Absolutely not the case. If I were in a relationship, or had friends I could get to, or was making $200,000, I could be quite happy.
Hell, Harvey Fierstein lives here. When telling him I was feeling like Daffyd from Little Britain, he replied, "Honey, Ridgefield is full of queers..." Other than the one Saturday night I went to Stop and Shop and saw suspiciously well groomed men, and tanned, muscled women with frosted mullets, I don't think I ever saw any of the rainbow brigade.
To sum up CT, I have LOVED reconnecting with my niece, nephew, getting to really know my sister-in-law, spending time with the bro, letting Fugee run in a forest full of turkeys, fox and deer.
I know I have caused them concern and stress, particularly during the period where I was realizing I couldn’t stay in the job in NY, and it was exhausting trying to make them understand what it means to be me. "Just suck it up" in the realm of HIV could be a significant liability to my health. I am healthy, but my appearance can make the reality of living with a chronic condition which could turn terminal seem remote. It's not.
As it became clear that the job description of my New York nonprofit was not quite in line with expectation, coupled with my inability to find housing, I couldn't justify being set up for failure, having to work back-to-back 13 hour days, paying $450 a month for a train ticket, and significantly overstaying my welcome at my family's. They never made me feel so, but I know they wanted their lives back.
When it was at it bleakest and I couldn't see options, I was as depressed as I have been since finding out I was positive or when my parents were dying. I was unraveling and felt trapped. I reached out to friends for advice and you know, it was merely voicing my gut instinct. I've been good in marketing because I have a good gut instinct. And I am learning not to second-guess it. When life provides a different outcome than anticipated, roll with the punches and maintain the humor. I have always had an inner voice saying, “Craig, do NOT recross bridges. Find your authentic Path and follow it. Others may not make sense of it, but you will go where you must.”
One friend was saying to just be in the Now. I said if Eckhart Tolle had been visiting Ridgefield, I would have made it a point to punch him hard, right in the Now. When depressed or hopeless, the Now is no comfort. Sorry, Eck. I have since regained the sense of humor, as inscrutable as it may be for most.
As I affirmed my commitment to release attachment to expectation, I was continually reminded of a favorite quote from my friend Danger Angel. "How do you make God laugh? Tell her your plans."
I felt like I had been fighting the flow for four months. I was trying to dig my heals into the riverbed of a swift running current. My destiny was to keep moving.
My gut told me to return to San Francisco. To liberalism, and public transportation and friends and burritos. To bike rides through the Headlands, and dog parks, and clear bright skies.
To stay in New York would have required a fire in the belly I didn't have. It would have required a seriously diminished quality of life for a significant amount of time. I would have to have been not strong, but inflexible in my decision and mindset. For me, this would be a recipe for disaster.
Life was challenging my assumptions, requiring me to be fluid. To quote Lao Tzu, "Water is fluid, soft, and yielding. But water will wear away rock, which is rigid and cannot yield. As a rule, whatever is fluid, soft, and yielding will overcome whatever is rigid and hard. This is another paradox: what is soft is strong." I had to regain the Flow.
It's funny how your state of mind can filter how you see the world. One day as I was bustling through Grand Central to get to my 6:15 train, all I saw in every direction was haggard, exhausted, angry looking folks hurrying from point A to point B. It bummed me out, thinking "Wow, there's gotta be more than working to afford your Fendi bag..."
The next day, my sense of humor returned, and I saw the absurdity in the situation. It's not nearly as serious as we make it out to be. Important, yes, but not always serious. God has a sense of humor. Just look around.
So I return to SF to a job, which sounds like a new adventure, an arena I haven't ventured into yet. I look forward to learning, having consistency, stability and my circle of friends.
If I had it to do all over would I do it differently? Absolutely not. Like I said, I am releasing my attachment to expected outcome and will continue to sign up for the advanced level classes/life lessons.
I know some of my overly personal relatings concern some of you, others think, "Who Cares?" But I also know that my words, my attempts at being brutally self-reflective, have touched some of you. These humble words are offered for you, a recap of Craig 101.
I end with a quote from one of my favorite books, Hesse's Siddhartha:
"The many-voiced song of the river echoed softly. Siddhartha looked into the river and saw many pictures in the flowing water. The river's voice was sorrowful. It sang with yearning and sadness, flowing towards its goal...Siddhartha...was now listening intently...to this song of a thousand voices...then the great song of a thousand voices consisted of one word: Om -- perfection...
From that hour Siddhartha ceased to fight against his destiny."
The Dance, the Song, the Flow, the Lessons. Perfection.
Release, let go and grasp. Paradox.
Happy for the highs, the lows, the in-betweens.
Thank you, Life, and all the fantastic players in this dream we call reality.
Friday, December 08, 2006
A Quick Hello From Frozen CT!
Happy Early Holiday Season!
Just got in from a 5 mile walk with the pooches--it's COLD today. It was fun watching Fugee try to drink from the attached water bowl.
Just a quick head's up to keep you apprised of my boomerang life. I've been offered a job managing the Metro Hotel http://www.metrohotelsf.com in San Francisco, on Divisadero near Haight Street. The job was too good to turn down--owned by wonderful friends, funky, a cross between Lonely Planet and Tales of the City 2006. I'm looking forward to this new adventure, and heck, my underwear, furniture and dog would just LOVE another cross-country New Year drive--this time perhaps with SNOW!! Tentative leave date is Jan 1st--a beautiful way to start the year.
If you'd like to find out the full backstory as to my time in CT and the steps up to my current decision and life-direction, check out my blog http://hermesbrainbelch.blogspot.com sometime later today or tomorrow. See, the holidays REALLY are about mercy--I saved you the inbox clutter of having to read an email you may or may not care about! I'm letting you pull the information as opposed to pushing it at you--very Web 2.0--non?
I'm going to share a quote which really rings true with me. I'm sure some of you think, "Why the heck does Craig always wax philosophic and seem so ready to dole out advice when his life is more shambles than most?"
Here's the quote, from Wei Wu Wei: "...give any information you have garnered to a fellow traveler along the Way. Why? Because the same information would have helped the person who compiled it if it had been given to him, and that is why he compiled it --- and that is why it should be offered to others along the Way."
See? Not only is Christmas about mercy, it's about sharing.
Thanks for sharing my life.
Peace.
Craig
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craig hermes
"And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more"
~ Dr. Seuss
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Lore. Knowledge. Shared Divinity, A Gift Most Precious.
"...give any information you have garnered to a fellow traveler along the Way. Why? Because the same information would have helped the person who compiled it if it had been given to him, and that is why he compiled it --- and that is why it should be offered to others along the Way."
~An interpretation from the works of WEI WU WEI
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
What if...?
"And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more"
~ Dr. Seuss
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