Through the Looking Glass: Prompt 25 #reverb10

Dec. 25.   Photo.  A present to yourself. Sift through all the photos of you from the past year. Choose one that best captures you; either who you are, or who you strive to be. Find the shot of you that is worth a thousand words. Share the image, who shot it, where, and what it best reveals about you.

"Curiouser and Curiouser."  Alice, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking Glass

Self Portrait.  Taken Saturday, July 10, 2010, through the looking glass, at the Oregon Country Fair.

The summation of a year in one picture:  Which way is up?

Headaches and Hippies, #reverb10

December 8, and 9 Prompts:

Beautifully different.  Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up.  Reflect on all the things that make you different- you'll find they're what make you beautiful. -Karen Walrand

Party.  What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010?  Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, and shenanigans. -Shauna Reid

Sorry to have been MIA.  The reason for my absence is essentially what makes me different:  I have been a chronic migraineur since I was 13.  This has really thrown some huge curve-balls at me during my life, but I rarely am able to increase my slugging percentage.

The last two days I had a full blown migraine, with aura, photo phobia, vomiting, osmophobia, dizziness, and agonizing pain. Having suffered from such a bad headache, ending only a few hours ago, it is hard for me to find anything positive and beautiful in my experiences.  In fact, they have been depressing and isolating.   One of the quandaries of migraine (or in this case, migraine co morbid with bipolar disorder), is that it is a chronic, painful, but invisible and non-lethal.   People think that I exaggerate how often and how severely I suffer from headaches.

Unhappy things that having 2-30 migraines a month for the last 34 years has taught me:
*Life isn't fair
*Pain is incapacitating, yet invisible, putting your claim of genuine disability into question.
*People are very willing to tell you what you are doing wrong when they have no idea what you are going through

But there are useful things I have learned as a result of my condition, too:
*Living a "conventional" 9-5 life life is not the only way to lead a happy life.
*Joy can be found in things as simple as an absence of pain
*Life isn't as linear as the average high school counselor would like you to believe.

In addition, using medical Cannabis to treat pain has exposed me to a new activist community, and a new cause for my lifelong civil rights activism

Overall, being a migraineur has had positive impact on my world view and approach to my life.  I am intimately acquainted with the pit falls of having an invisible disability, and have used that knowledge in my activism, especially for IV drug users, and HIV patients.  I have developed a hobby interest in neurobiology.  DH's seizures provide more fodder for that interest, and the fact that my dad was a widely read psycho-pharmacologist, who did research in neuropsychiatry meant that I was taught about how our brains work by a world-renowned clinical scientist.

The amount of pain I experience for no valid reason, with no end in sight, makes me very empathetic to people who are struggling with their health, regardless of what condition they suffer, or what caused it.  I have more insight into chronic illness than the average person, and unfortunately, learned about it at a much younger age than the average person who will develop a chronic disorder.  This understanding of the bone-sucking weariness that chronic illness creates in its victims is what lead to my extensive HIV prevention activism, and support of people with HIV.  Migraines are not fatal, but I can easily relate to those who feel poorly more often than feeling well.

Another thing I have learned is nothing is more important than keeping myself healthy.   The rest of my life will go careening off the rails if I am not careful enough about looking after myself.  I have the deeply held belief that if I had not come from a well-off family, and then met DH, who loves me with all my failings and lack of earning power, I would be homeless.  So I tend to keep change in my pocket for the mentally ill and homeless people in the City.

One unusual fact about myself is my ability to interact with anyone, from the crack addict sitting on the stoop of my apartment building, to the members of the royal families I went to college with.  When I lived in the San Francisco Tenderloin, which is a red light district, I had first name basis relationships with a lot of the homeless people that lived in the UN Plaza.

Being incapacitated by illness most of my adult life taught me the very important fact that life is a crap shoot, shit happen, and to remember other people in my world may also be ducking invisible curve balls.

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Now I almost skipped the next prompt, because it is becoming a bit repetitive to say that the Oregon Country Fair was the social highlight of my year.  But it was a very bad year, with a few peaks, and the OCF was my major excitement for 2010, but for a two day driving trip with DH in August.   Those of you who are here for the first time, my December 3rd prompt: Moment blog post was about happenings at the Fair.

I basically describe the Fair to people who want to know as a convergence of dirty hippies, faeries, rainbow people, burning man aficionados, and the like, creating a Counter Culture space-time singularity each July.  Music Bands from the well known, to the virtually anonymous play on various stages throughout the  weekend, so there is music coming from one or many directions at any time.  There is a non-stop drum circle, which was joined briefly by Bob Weir last summer (I realize now by looking at the Wikipedia picture that I actually saw him: I hadn't aged him in my mind since 1990, so I was looking for a much younger man).  Puppet shows, acrobats, magic, mehndi booths, hair braiding booths, face painting, ice cream, and children with dread locks.  All sorts of delicious food, caters to everyone from the omnivore to the vegan.  Even though I fall into the first category, my favorite food item at the Fair is vegan, Blazing Salad's Avocado Dream Boats. I already know what I am having for breakfast on July 8, 2011.  I wish I could tell you what is in it, so far I have figured out avocado, hummus, garlic, and hot sauce.

I discovered if you mash those ingredients together, you will have a filling, yummy sandwich spread.  Eat it the day you make it, avocados don't keep!

And I haven't even talked about all the cool items sold there.  There are great artisans and artists selling a variety of wares.

But there is far more to the fair than what I can list in one post.  As I have said, the ambiance is a large percentage of what makes the fair great.  Some concrete examples (if you will) of created ambiance: Parades with brass instruments and costumed marchers;  the big juggling pavilion in Chela Mela; the singing around the sauna at the Ritz; the Women's lodge in the Community Village, an homage to estrogen; speeches on topics controversial and not; women rolling out rugs and dancing like dervishes to their favorite music, or the drumming circles' rhythms.

I hate to end this post this way, it seems unfinished.  But I am hoping to get my Dec 10 prompt done before I go to bed tonight, so I am going to leave this topic for now.

Stone, Smoke and Water, #reverb10

Prompt: December 3rd
Moment: Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year.  Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors) -Ali Edwards

When I look back at my life, the moments when I have felt most alive were also the moments when I felt most authentic.  Authenticity, to me, is demonstrated by knowing oneself, both bad and good. And then accepting and living comfortably in one's own skin because of, or even in spite of it.  

Once I saw today's prompt, it was easy for me to know where I would "find" my moment this year, because it is easy for me to pinpoint the weekend on which I felt most authentic and true to myself.  The weekend was that of July 10, 11, and 12, in Veneta, OR, at the Oregon Country Fair.  I already have mentioned that it was a highlight of my year.  I expect it to be a highlight of many years to come.  I am a recent initiate into the OCF family, and once again, I must give link love to my fairy godmother, nakedjen, for being my guide.  She has been going to the Fair for more years than I am willing to guess, since I cannot remember the number, and I don't want to offend her by guessing too few.   After hearing her enthusiasm for it year after year, I finally decided I had to check it out.  In 2009, I went with DH and NJ.  This year, DH stayed home, and I camped with NJ, and her friend D.

So I went to sleep Thursday night knowing on what weekend my "moment" was, and when I woke, I realized when exactly the moment was.

It was at the first day of the Fair, on a Friday, as always.  The grounds are huge and the paths are windy, and all sorts of unexpected intrigue await around every bend.  One thing I was not expecting was the spa-like Ritz, which provides showers, bathing supplies, cubbies to stuff your clothes into while you shower, and an open air sauna.  On Friday at the Ritz, there was a "Women's Hour,"  which actually lasted most of the afternoon.  I am pretty unhappy with my body, so this would be the one time during the weekend I was brave enough to go into the showers.

I was not planning on going to the shared showers because of my body image issues, and paid the fee for a private shower.  There are some private showers, but the majority of the showers are communal.  But what I wasn't expecting was that when I asked for a towel, there were none!  NJ laughed, and pointed out the circle of nude women around an open air sauna.   I was going to have to dry in front of it, naked and exposed to everyone.

It was at that moment, much to the amazement of my dear friend, and myself, quite frankly, that I literally said, "Fuck it, I'm going to use the group showers."  I bought a small bar of chamomile soap, and went into the dressing area, nervous as hell.  I quickly stripped down, and followed NJ to the showers.

The Ritz must be one of the most beautiful places to shower.  With the sky as a roof, a planked wooden floor, showers mounted on a wooden pergola, and women chattering around me, there was so much to take in.  It was hot and humid, something my Northern California-attuned body found pretty unbearable.  Even the warm water from the shower seemed cool, and lovely.  On the other side of a wall of sinks and mirrors, the singing of women around the sauna floated in the air.  I washed myself as hastily as possible, and then looked around me at all the different shapes of women and relaxed.  I allowed myself to wash myself again, deliberately and thoroughly.

As I approached the sauna, I saw other women, relaxed and happy in their own bodies.  No one was trying to hide or cover their imperfections.   The scent of smoke and wood rose from the sizzling, steaming rocks of the sauna, on which the Ritz attendants took turns tossing ladle-fuls of water,   On a small stage, a folk singer, as nude as the rest of us, led us in a round, which ended with "I love this place."  Around me were damp, clean smelling women, and another friend, freshly wet and gleaming, slid onto the bench beside us.  I sat singing, on a rough wooden bench, with NJ blissfully tearing up beside me.  I had confronted my fear of my own body, and taken a small step towards accepting myself as I am now:  Overweight, aging and imperfect.  I felt fully present, fully embraced, and full of joy.

Costumed and clean: