White people in robes

I really feel the desire to find a sanga (spiritual community) right now, but as I research it online, I find all of these white people in robes. Their hair may be short, but I know a former hippie when I see one.

I'm a hippie, I know I'm a hippie, but I can't help but feel really self concious in a room full of white people bowing and meditation. Thats the point, I AM a hippie, and so when I see all of these like minded people, I am looking at myself. I think they look a little silly, frankly. All the bowing looks silly. Bowing is powerful, it helps you to break down the ego, but, it looks silly.

I think what I have to do is meet with a head of a sangha, and maybe tell them how I am feeling. I bet if I did they would laugh and say something that makes me at ease. (Or something that challenges me, not puts me at ease, but is useful to me)

I am such a western stereotype that I want to walk in a room and be surrounded by Asian monks. But I don't want to walk into a room full of Asian monks and be me, I want to walk into a room full of Asian monks and be me on the inside but on the outside blend right in.

I will say, the Asian monks I have run into I REALLY liked. They really had a peaceful aura about them. I think that the difference between them and these whiteys is the self conciousness. And I shouldn't say whiteys I should say American whiteys because I can only speak of my own people. The whiteys, as peaceful as they are, were raised in America. I am sure if I saw an Asian-American monk they would have that same self conciousness.

But I keep saying SELF conciousness. By labeling them "whiteys" I am strengthening the ego's belief in "self." Maybe I am right on target by seeing myself as an Asian male monk. I am recognizing that we are the same, but for some reason I am resisting seeing myself as the same as my hippie bretheren.

Am I ashamed of my background and the person I am inside? I am a hippie child, running around in the rain in thrift store clothes. I have been judged negatively and not understood why. Perhaps if my mom was still alive I would have rejected the rejection, not internalized it. I am proudly a hippie, but yet I still distance myself from the hippies. (the ones not in my family that is)

I think that is the trick, talk to the head person. Talk about it.

Am I hoping for too much?

What I want is to fall in love, and sex like this, at least now and then. Am I asking for too much? Are my expectations too high?



I keep worrying that they are. I am really porking out right now too, which doesn't help matters any.

I had a boy-meeting experience on the plane today. I commented on a man's pin, and he mentioned another pin, that said "stop driving." He tries to drive as little as possible, so I told him about my 5 year car-free life, and my "cars are coffins" water bottle. We clicked. He was balding, maybe late 30's, and maybe shorter than me, but there was something there.

I chatted with him a second time when serving drinks. He was able to identify the Greek and Roman names for the goddess I am named after, and what she is the goddess of. He told me he played accordion (and some other instrument) for a living! He seemed so nice, a calm, confident (but not cocky) look in his eyes...but then I realized, he doesn't wear deodarant. FUCK!

I sat in my jumpseat thinking about it. The reason I click with so few (American) guys is because I am talking to the mainstream guys! I am a hippy on the inside, and so my match is supposed to be a hippy. But I could not handle the idea of dating an accordion player who didn't use deodarant. Accordion player, fine, but I can't be with a guy who doesn't use deodarant!

Plus, the idea of dating a hippy, I feel so much like they would judge me. I am so mainstream. I drink soda with artificial sugar, I work in one of the most polluting industries, I vote for Democrats instead of Greens.

It's like I am neither one. I am not mainstream enough for the mainstream boys, and I am not hippy enough for the hippies. I'm this strange amalgam.

He didn't ask me out. I really thought he would, but oh well. Minus the funk, I was really hoping to get to know more.

I regularly wonder if I should get back with Charles. I really loved him alot. He would be a good father. Of course I wont get back with him, but I think about it a lot.

Nah, I am keeping hope alive. I think I will meet the right guy. In time to have kids? Maybe not. But eventually.