Values & My Favorite Things: Week 1

Like a lot of people resolving in January to do things differently or better or more or less, I committed myself to working on my values in three tangible ways, and blogging about it weekly. The first couple of things I’m dedicating myself to practicing weekly are like a lot of people’s resolutions: go outside more! Keep this one area of life clean and pretty! Blah blah blah … you’ve heard shit like that before from all kinds of folks. But my third values-magnifier is probably not something anybody else is devoting a year of mindful practice to.

The third way I’m connecting to and meditating on my values is through an object I treasure: my dancing bananas ashtray.

trixie's dancing bananas

It’s cheap metal. I think it cost about $2.57 over a decade ago, wrapped in crinkly cellophane. I DON’T EVEN SMOKE but when I saw it, I had to have it. I’ve kept it ever since.

There are a lot of things I’ve bought compulsively, but there’s something special about my dancing bananas. I need them on my nightstand. Sometimes I forget about them, but whenever I pick them up I get a surge of some kind of rightness that cuts through everything else competing for my attention as Most Important. I experience a rare sense of easy and relaxed happiness; THIS is CLEARLY what’s most important: my dancing bananas ashtray.

If I were to measure the worth of all of my possessions against this Most Treasured ashtray and throw away everything I don’t love as much? Pretty sure my environment and priorities would be cleaner, happier, and more in keeping with my honest values and aesthetics.

Classy People with Good Taste would dismissively call it kitsch. If they were giving me the benefit of the doubt they’d assume I love it as kitsch. I DON’T. It is a fucking spiritual touchstone and perfect example of beauty in my eyes. My dancing bananas remind me what makes human so lovable and fucked-up: our imaginations.

If you do not love my dancing bananas, I’m pretty sure you’ve advanced yourself into a profound disability that renders you unable to find comfort or delight in basic human yum yum. I do not want to spend a single night in your dry complicated irrational land of sophistication. I will stay here where we tell each other stories of saucy faceless slow-dancing fruits dipping their toes in gluttony’s sweet hot goo.


 

Like many Americans, I have way too many things. Many of them I value so much that I’m afraid to use them, even though they’re mostly worth nothing. So I’m going to check in every week with my dancing bananas to remember what it’s all about, this thing called (my) life.

Visit TrixieCams.com for a delightful array of webcam performers — you can probably even pay one to show you her favorite things!

Woods & Water: Week 1

As mentioned in my previous post, this year I’m building and reinforcing my value system with three different practice-and-blog series. That post focuses on values about cleanliness by practicing and showing off nail grooming. The second post and series I’m kicking off here revolves around BEING OUTSIDE. Specifically in the woods and by the water, at least once a week each (and specifically SALTwater).

So on the 6th day of January, because I made this commitment to myself (so I can feel proud of my follow-through instead of like a beach bum slacker? see also: puritanical values about work), I dropped everything else and went to the beach:

 

Normally I’d avoid the beach on a Saturday (because normally I avoid people, and normally beach + Saturday afternoon = people), but because it’s winter and it was probably going to rain, there were hardly any people at all!

So I didn’t have to figure out how to interact with anybody except fog and rain and sand and space and day meeting darkness and feet hitting ground … and that is my happy place.

So what does this have to do with values? Well … I value: my body | fresh air | sweating | taking the temperature with my skin | working to LIVE | sunlight | LIVING TO LIVE | telling time by tides and shadows | free self-health-care as valuable “work”, more valuable than any desk work | connecting with what is REAL under my feet | my exceptionally good fortune in living in this time and place out of all of the times and places humans have existed | solitude | the colors green the colors brown the colors grey the colors colors colors blue yellow brown green green green green NIGHT | the enormity of sky | seasons | my freedom | my ability to exercise my freedom and to choose what is healthy(iest) | having a platform to celebrate and serve what I value and what sustains life | bunches of other good shit like just BEING ALIVE

Basically: I AM SUPER FUCKING LUCKY I CAN WALK ON THE BEACH EVERY DAY. Whenever I want. And very often have it all to myself: way more quiet, peace, and solitude than the vast majority of people on this planet have access to.

I value quiet, peace and solitude. And huge bodies of saltwater. I feel some kind of a huge moral ethical human spiritual obligation / necessity to feed on my good fortune and revel in the pleasure, nutrition and healing it gives me to be out there, in what little there is left for however long it and I linger.

 

 

The time & weather when I started my walk, and when I ended it:

winter weather in port touchdown

For that first week of January I did my woods and water walk all in one outing, hiking up the hill from the beach as it got dark. The trail was steep, slippery, and getting harder and harder to see, but I wanted to be speedy to cover as much ground before it got totally dark; this was a fun extra-sensory challenge to really focus on FEELING my footing, being aware of every step and seeing with the soles of my feet.

drainpipe near dusk

This wet walk alone up an eroding hill intensified my appreciation of the book I’m reading (It), remembering what it’s like to be a kid roaming around outside relishing freedom, suffering from fear, and just being alive outside with your heart beating fast.

Didn’t your values seem a lot clearer when you were a kid than they do as an adult? I want to be as clear as a childabout the value and rightness of certain things. Like mud puddles.

twilight alone

Being outside alone while it got darker and wetter and darker I felt more and more like myself, and giddy about it.

In some ways I’m not even sure what this word “values” means and how to talk about them meaningfully or accurately (is that possible?). But the darker it got and the more sure I knew where I was and how to get somewhere else, the more I remembered who I am and felt happy about the rightness and certainty of it: I’m a night person who loves being alone in my body outside.

I would rather listen to water dripping off of different things onto different surfaces than people talking words. Part of valuing these things – night, solitude, rain, outside, wet sounds – is valuing myself for being the kind of person who runs sopping wet through the dark alone in winter.

Note on blocking out part of our hometown name: it’s not a secret on our sites, but I don’t want to make it THAT easy for no good reason. Plus it’s more fun for you to read if it’s a blank you can fill in with your own idea of a perfect place to live!

Toes gripping thick GRATITUDE

bare feet & gratitude list on double-thick yoga mats

I’m always amazed and exponentially more grateful once I start writing a gratitude list . . . and there are so many things I could happily go on and on for hours, and wonder why I let myself be paralyzed all day, when at the very least I could be doing this.

Yoga mats are such amazing pleasure tools! Sometimes I leave mine out (doubled-up like this) and find myself squealing with surprise delight when I step onto it to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I don’t even need to do yoga to think they’re awesome. I’m pretty happy just to get down on one and wriggle around and push myself into it. Actually, the floor is pretty fucking awesome too, especially after I sweep it. Even if it doesn’t make me feel like a hustler to do so.

Merriment with Santa!

greeting Santa in modest white nightgown

dance-for-santa

Leggy on Santa's lap

flashing my beaver at Santa

Spreading my legs for Santa

Santa licks my nipple

split tail spread by Santa

squeezed & fondled by Santa

JOIN NOW for the full-sized gallery! Almost 150 photos & video to come :)

Many many thanks to my wife, DeliaTS, for getting everything ready for this shoot (and taking the pictures, of course) and to our new bearded friend, Goat (and his pipes and suspenders and jolly goodwill) who is an even more perfect Pacific Northwestern version of Santa than I could have dreamed up. This is honestly one of my favorite things we’ve ever done for my site, making this shoot a better present than I hoped for or could have bought myself for holiday-time!

Failure to Post

So you know how I mentioned that Taurus’ girlfriend (I feel like I should call her his wife) was coming over? And then I haven’t said anything about it here since?

When I don’t post about somebody or something, it doesn’t mean I have nothing to say, or that somebody or something that happened wasn’t/isn’t special or interesting or awesome. It usually means I haven’t had time to do somebody or something justice or something got complicated or more loaded with details and I want to unroll it in a sensible and sensitive manner, or I’m afraid someone will read it and feel bad or left out. Or I just don’t even know what to call somebody. Like Taurus’ woman/wife/girlfriend. So sometimes I never even get around to saying anything at all.

She and he are coming over Thursday night. I don’t think it (whatever “it” is) will be on the spycams. But I think it’s going to be good. And special. :)

*****

Over the past few years, more than one wife (including my own) has been extremely generous and loving and open to me, and brave and optimistic and doggedly-determined to do all kinds of work to insure their partners have as much love and security and happiness as possible. They are a powerful wonder to me, and a privilege I have never deserved.

Women are such fierce lovers, they bowl me over. It’s as hard for me to talk about how I feel about them as it is hard for me to talk about how I feel about “God”. Because, you know, that’s who they are.

Pin It on Pinterest