Saturday, February 23, 2008

what's a wildflower?

I'm a wildflower.
Not my word. It was given to me by the woman with whom i had the first (and in some ways only) wonderful romance of my life. Being called a wildflower was healing - being understood doesn't happen often. Especially for me, since i don't push my wildflowerness (or depth of experience) in people's faces. So many people walk around silently (or not so silently) demanding their importance be "recognized". Sigh.
How am i a wildflower? Some laugh, and say it's because i've never had a job. Which is untrue. Despite my dedication to leisure, and awareness that humans are genetically designed to work only a few hours a day, i've worked hard. I've been paid to wipe people's asses, and to stop people with serious intent from hurting each other. I've been a ditch digger under the Florida summer sun. I once clocked an eighty-five hour workweek, and i've devoted that kind of time to running little theaters. My vocations? Paperboy, babysitter, ice cream scooper, bookstore clerk, busboy/maintenance, mentally retarded vocational instructor, graduate assistant, marketing personality, tree trimmer, nude model, substitute teacher (public & prison), actor, director, handiwork, artistic director, producer, mover, mascot, editor, and woman wrestler. I've loved every one of those in some way. Most were freelance. I sometimes don't know what i'll be doing until that very day, and have nothing further scheduled. I've had busy months, and months in which i've worked but a few days. The price (if you want to call it that) is instability. But I've never lacked for food or shelter. By the standards of my society i'm poor...but every day of my life has been one of conspicuous comfort compared to most on this planet. I've never had five digits in my account, but in a world where so many have so little, there is spiritual comfort in having only what one needs. Hardly ever does this prove irksome - sure, i haven't had medical insurance in a long time, and the funds for travel or producing my plays often just aren't there. But on the other side, the rewards of being your own person are immeasurable. Most people wouldn't believe how little i get by on, but living simply is simply a choice. My rent is around $400 a month, plus another $200 for sundry. I have a big TV (just dvds, no channels) i didn't pay a penny for...but that may only be possible in silly cities where people leave huge TVs on the curb when they decide that huge isn't huge enough. I earned that TV though, getting it home with just a kidnapped grocery cart...an exuberant day that was. And you mortals just whip out a credit card - pheh.
Don't look for me at the Gap. I buy shoes and socks and underwear when i need them. I buy food. Beyond that, most of my stuff i get at thrift shops or garage sales. I went in Macy's this year with a gift certificate, and in eight floors couldn't find a single thing i wanted. I felt a strange sense of culture shock as i looked at the faces of the shoppers. A scary level of emptiness. Maybe it was me...
What else is a wildflower? A closeness to nature. Emotionally wide open. Happiest when naked. So much of our society is just surface and noise. I don't self-medicate with recreational drugs. I understand the need...to escape life, or increase the chances of sex...but it's not me.
I have an alarm clock i almost never plug in. I don't relate to "looking forward to the weekend", and sometimes can't recall what year it is. I instantly loved the existential/taoist philosophies on how the past and future are not real. I avoid dishonesty, pretense, and wasted time.
I don't like makeup or hair product or heels...combine that with my non-materialism and suspicions about monogamy, and before the first hello i'm romantically incompatible with 90% of the females in this society. Even though i'm well above average in intelligence, health, morals, and romanticism, the only person i've ever met who was more "unmateable" was a drug addict with personality disorders. It's okay to laugh...
I'd like to think that i carefully crafted the person i am, but i wasn't in a lot of control my first two years, perhaps the most critical in personality development. Once in a while somebody perceives my life with admiration or envy, or is struck by my bravery. But mostly i just do what seems sensible. One thing has perhaps set me apart...i believed certain wisdoms i heard when young. I mean actually believed them, instead of just nodding my head and going about my business. Things like "you only get one life". For whatever reason, certain thoughts and thinkers (kermit, thoreau, gandhi, lennon, seuss) snuck into my spirit and stayed, in ways they never seemed to for others.
Why do i write? I've almost never made any money off it, i'm not published, and i've done damn little to try to be so. I'm not a seller or pusher (which is very buddhist, actually). I'm not even convinced that my writing is worthy of publication, but when pushed on the point will respond that if any writing is worthy of being known, just try to stop it. I've even had the thought that for me to create what i must, i must remain relatively unknown. In this culture of celebrity, rewards of money and adulation must affect the spirits of those few creators who receive such things. I'm not saying it's impossible for a rich person to be untainted, but...
Anyway, don't get me wrong - if someone is determined to offer me mad money to be the court poet/philosopher/foole, i promise i'll consider it.
Mostly though, it would be really cool if someone i don't even know were to really dig, say, one silly little idiot thing i wrote.
That sounds like fun.

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