Cross My Heart And Hope To Write

A blog about love, beauty, and the human condition. Through stories, poetry, art, and photography, the many manifestations of love, the definition of beautiful, and the curious nature of humanity are explored to gain a broader understanding of ourselves...

[thesvenbo]

An Open Letter to Anthony Bourdain

What hadn't you found yet, Tony?

Or perhaps it was that you had found it everywhere. Carried it with you. The stony weight of our many, many hearts.

In truth, I never watched your show. Never gave you a chance. I was fonder of Andrew Zimmern, who wrote: "Tony was a symphony."

I only ever caught glimpses of you, chain smoking and grumbling in the steam-filled alleys of Oita or squatting over a meal prepared by Native Australians, the ashes tumbling in the bush, or in Arica, where the mudslides from spring storms gathered their dirty dewdrops in your nostrils, or... or...

What was it, Tony? What was it that burbled and blended in? The complex mole of your brown-eyed, struggle-laced, avocado leaf and cocoa co-mingling ache.

That itch that defied drugs, that couldn't be surmounted by red-eye flights carrying you across distances you had not touched.

My brother called you a legend. An insult really. The only time he had ever mentioned your name came with the news that you had died.

What was it that your tongue had tasted that you hadn't shared with us? That insatiable wanderlust of running, running like the water for a broth not-yet made. Yàn wō on a stove, bubbling up into your untearing eyes.

There is loneliness everywhere, Tony. At every table. In every bowl. Spoon-fed in heaps to far-off corners that cower and keep.

I miss your surly malaise, Tony. I miss the ways you did not touch my life. I share that yearning to go. To search. To travel and gobble up all that we cannot capture in our teeth. Too much to chew. Too much... Too...

Too like you, Tony. The unalleviated pain. The parts left unknown.

[thesvenbo]

#10. the stories of HOW WE CREATE & HOW WE COPE: STEVEN. /// "Cartographers used to place a dragon, sea-monster, or other mythical creature on their maps to denote danger or to mark regions as-of-yet unexplored. The phrase 'here be dragons' came to represent the unknown, a kind of warning to those who became overzealous in their curiosity. My mental health journey has been defined by curiosity, a willingness to go into the dank, dripping darkness of myself, of my history, to dredge up that which has yet to be understood. I have likened it to a kind of 'black box', one in which the answers lie buried beneath the white noise of trauma, a gentle embrace of serrated anxiety, fractaling disassociations, illusory diagnoses, repressed memories, and the self I have built in spite of them. It is a spelunking into the depths of identity, practicing a radical self-reflection that paves the way towards self-love, empathy, and compassion. I have learned that it is not fearlessness, running recklessly with sword in hand to slay the beasts that slumber in wait, but a humbleness, humility enough to build a relationship with that cosmic uncertainty. It is not embarking on an expedition, a crusade with an armada of coping skills to colonize and conquer, but a surrender, a freeing onto, a learning how to cohabitate with my demons, to thrive alongside, to live through my neuro-diversity. My mental health is fragile. Not unlike an untouched ecosystem. For the uncharted parts of my mind, the bottomless oceans alive inside my head, I know not what lurks or lingers there, but I am prepared to befriend whatever monster or specter that should meet me on my descent. These maelstroms are mine, after all, and I suppose I owe them a dive into the black box from time to time. Returning an ever-better incarnation of myself. An ouroboros. A dragon eating its own skin." Join us for "How We Create / How We Cope" on April 15th at LaGuardia Performing Arts Center, where I will have copies of my new chapbook "a billion burning dreams" for sale. www.thesvenbo.com/books Facebook event:  https://www.facebook.com/events/201790817256839

[thesvenbo]

Baby Steps

My name is Steven and I have commitment issues.

Deep, strong, pervasive commitment issues. They atrophy me. When confronted with the need to choose one option over a plethora of infinite others, I can feel the welling swoon of disassociation approaching.

I am driven by a need to experience as much as I can, indulge in as many realities as possible, often leaving all doors open for fear of closing any.

At a recent networking event, I quipped: "I have no loyalties."

Anyone who has ever made plans with me or have tried to make plans with me knows that, inevitably, I will flake. I wait until the last minute to commit to or cancel plans, or remain vague about my intentions. I make plans in my head or change them without consulting other people; I spring things on them last minute or dip when no one is looking. I show up late and leave early.

I'm a fan of the Irish exit.

For those who have dated me, they are acutely aware of my slippery insistence on having a way out. Back up plans to back up plans. Leaving my options open. As one person put it: "It's like trying to capture lightning in a jar."

I just GO and only stop when I'm forced to. Kicking and screaming. Disassociating and sabotaging. Leaving people in the dust of my own affections.

I want my cake. I want to eat it too. I often choke because I eat too fast. I eat standing up.

In recent weeks, I've been trying to become more aware of how this fear of commitment influences my behavior and how it makes the people that matter to me most feel. The messages it sends.

Many have been victims of this, and for that, I'm sorry. But many have also helped me learn, helped me to become more aware. Thank you. Thank you.

I can be a real dick. For someone who insists on kindness and empathy, the closer one gets, the stranger things become.

I wrote a few months ago about my internalized feelings of guilt and shame, the deep-seated conviction that "I am a terrible person" that convinces me that I'm bothering people. It prevents me from reaching out, but... it seems there are other neuroses that convince me not to stay. A two-tier complex.

In 2016, I worked hard to allow myself to feel love and to be loved. To accept love from other people. In 2017, I made a commitment (ironically) to be more #FEARLESS. To confront what terrifies me.

I'm still very much dedicated to that.

For those of you who have already given so much of your time and commitment to me, THANK YOU. I see it. I recognize it. Even if my behavior appears to betray that fact.

If I'm committed to anything it's growing and working on myself. The pathway is ALWAYS open for you to express to me your disappointment, your anger, your hurt, your need for something more. Or less.

I have found that concrete expressions and requests help me best to change. This may be asking a lot. Its probably an ASD thing, but I refuse to condemn myself to my own neuro-divergence and that is not an excuse.

If you EVER see me acting in ways that are fucked up, trust that I will listen. I will use what you have to say to become a better version of myself.

I love you all profoundly. In more ways than I can vocalize. And whatever actions seem to contradict that certainty, I promise to strike and uproot them. However long it takes.

That is my solemn promise. To you and to myself. 🖤

[thesvenbo]

The Complex

It has taken me a long while to write this.

I have this complex. This thought. This worry. An omnipresent and deep-seeded fear of bothering people.

It slips silently into my decision making; keeps me from reaching out to the people I miss. The people I love. A fear of letting them down. I pick up my phone countless times a day - to text, to DM, to call or email - but the fear that I might be encroaching convinces me to stop.

Ironic, for one whose spoken word performances strive to confront the political and the uncomfortable. But perhaps not surprising.

I worry if it seems within my wide circle of friends that I simply vanish. Pop out of existence. Disappear for a while, only to materialize at an event or an open mic as if I was always there.

I... am always here.

When I do reach out to friends, expressing a want to see them more, the thought that I might inconvenience them keeps me at bay. Prevents me from organizing anything.

I fret that my actions and behaviors send messages that contradict what I feel. That I don’t care, that I’m apathetic, that I’m being insincere. This is never the case, though incongruent and no-doubt frustrating. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I know where it comes from.

I was raised in an environment where it is best to assume that you are always in trouble. This has translated into my career and my interpersonal relationships. I always think I'm doing something wrong.

This self-concept of being a burden, a bother, a let-down, is a poison that seeps into every thought. Keeps me isolated. Keeps me busy. Keeps me safe.

"Just keep moving. Keep going. Never stay long enough to allow things to go sour. It will probably be your fault anyway.”

But these convictions are not true and they are not mine, and I want to fight to claw and strip them from my synapses.

I think, for us neuro-atypical folks who feel and think in infinite fractals all the time, we can remain tethered to some larger wellspring of information, while still struggling to see things for what they are. To taste what we know to be true.

My beautiful brain makes it hard to navigate social spheres sometimes; I tend to neglect the things I worry about neglecting. Growing up in an environment of constant anxiety has created a fear-based social structure I'm dedicated to dismantling.

Part of what I learned on my backpacking trip last year is the need to be more fearless. The recognition that I deserve to be loved just as much as I believe everyone else to be; that I have the right to allow myself to receive the love of others.

I am ready.

I made a commitment to myself that 2017 would be a year of #FEARLESSNESS. So much of our lives are fear-based, whether we are conscious of it or not. What we need now more than ever is the ability to be brave.

If you perceive yourself to be in trouble, to be a burden, to be unworthy of the love you project out into the world, you will inevitably seek a reality that conforms to the way you feel on the inside. Whether unconsciously or as purposeful self-sabotage.

We must have the courage and the fearlessness to confront ourselves, to uproot the patterns of behavior that keep us isolated. We must learn how to celebrate the mind’s ability to protect the self, while empowering that self to step into the light of vulnerability and to be seen, in all our darkness, by the unwavering gaze of love.

I am dedicating myself to this. <3

[thesvenbo]

Festival Kerouac Vigo de Nueva York, April 6th - 9th, 2017.  #PoetryFighters #PoetryInvasion

[thesvenbo]

https://soundcloud.com/thesvenbo/the-nature-of-the-phoenix

[thesvenbo]

[thesvenbo]

Ever wondered what it’s like to stand behind a mic spitting spoken word? I present to you: #GoProetry

[thesvenbo]

Here is a simple way to become part of a collective voice against hate! Send a postcard directly to Trump. Here are the basic instructions to participate: ** IMPORTANT - Don't mail your card until NOV. 26th ** 1. Get a postcard from your state - any picture that represents your state. 2. In the message section, write this simple message: NOT BANNON! 3. Sign your name if you wish 4. Address it as follows: Donald Trump c/o The Trump Organization 725 Fifth Avenue New York, NY 10022 5. Affix a stamp - you can use a 35 cent postcard stamp, or a normal letter stamp. 6. Take a picture of your postcard that you can share on social media using the hashtag #StopBannon 7. Drop it in the mail! We are aiming to get these mailed between Saturday, Nov 26th and Monday, Nov. 28th to create a concentrated avalanche of postcards. But if you can't send yours until later, don't let that stop you. Share on social media. The more voices we can get in the mail, from the more states, the better. To make it go viral we will all need to share the details with our sphere of influence in whatever ways we feel comfortable. Feel free to copy and paste the details or even post your own event. If you are unfamiliar with Steve Bannon, he is the head of a media company that proliferates alt-right (misogynistic, homophobic, anti-semitic, and white supremacist) views. Trump is about to make him chief White House strategist and senior counselor. P. S. Invite your out of state friends! Let's go national with this!

[thesvenbo]

We have a nation where the majority of folks feel disenfranchised. Left behind. Forgotten. The sad truth is that we are divided, pitted against each other, thrown into a false narrative where dog-eat-dog ideologies create racial bias, bigotry, hatred, and oppression. In certain parts of this nation it has become unconscious and innate, drilled into our culture by centuries of inequity that privileges one group and disadvantages another, while BOTH are victims of the same unequal system. The disenfranchisement of the middle-America, working-class, White poor is more similar to that of the impoverished, inner-city PoC than it is dissimilar. Instead of holding corporations and CEOs accountable for outsourced jobs and poor working conditions, immigrants are scapegoated and minorities are vilified for "hand-outs" that only marginally improve their chances of living with dignity. INEQUALITY is the true enemy: Of power, of wealth, of knowledge. The age-old struggle between the haves and the have-nots is closer to being solved now than any time before, but it is threatened. It is not about preserving capitalism. It is about dismantling inequality. That is our common enemy. Together - and ONLY together - can we create a more equitable, sustainable, and just world. Though uncertain, remember that those above gain their power from those below. #NOTtheAmericanDream

[thesvenbo]

“The only thing stronger than your will to live 

is your laugh.”

~ The Sven-Bo!

[thesvenbo]

I see you. I hear you. I love you. You are not alone.

[thesvenbo]

Listen to Me: Why Dialogue is the Only Solution

When an unarmed Person of Color is killed by a police officer, the media gives us just enough information to feel outraged. Sick, disgusted, defeated, emotionally exhausted. What friend and fellow spoken word artist MetaPoetic refers to as “Racial Battle Fatigue.”  Flashes of violence. Cell phone videos and dash cams. Incomplete puzzles. We are shown just the blade of the knife. Enough to separate.

Communities rally around one party and demonize the other. The media, just as our politics, is polarizing. It is designed to divide. To segregate. When we are uncertain, we consume.

What we are missing are the facts:

The police officer who has worked 60+ hours in two days. The father who was just trying to get home after class to make supper. The minutia of a second, decided by the pull of a trigger. (Was that the flash of cold steal or a fountain pen?) The undiagnosed medical condition. Ice tea and skittles. The relationship between poverty and mental illness. Fights at home and the stress of imminent divorce. Paperwork not-yet-filed. Supervisors breathing down necks. The job search. Trying to make a better life. Trying to be a better wife.

The fear loaded in a young man's brain because of everything he has seen on the TV - Should I run and get shot in the back or should I fight and take one to the chest? Am I just another statistic? The officer who sees the face of his child, the greatest decision he has ever made, just before he makes the worst one. They will pay for this in ways unseen.

Internalized racism, bred by a culture of law enforcement steeped in a history buried beneath a lack of transparency. It keeps the truth from one's eyes. How the level of fear can be controlled by an arbitrary concentration of melanin in another person's skin. 

There was a life here just a moment ago. Hopes and aspirations.

Internalized oppression that pits communities of color against each other. Learned helplessness, because the message is, "Your life doesn't matter." The threat that comes from within, placed there by someone else long ago. A uniform, a symbol of it. A reminder. A vicious cycle that spans the divide. Reminds of one’s imminent death.

What I'm trying to say is that all of this - debates on Facebook, op. ed. pieces in the New York Times, NFL protests, riots, looting, marches, soundbites, arguments in dive bars between two strangers - it is all because we are afraid. FEAR is the common enemy. FEAR unites us.

If we want dialogue, it begins with listening. With respecting and understanding different points of view, each with their own validity. But ultimately, we must be prepared to embrace the fear of confronting ourselves. Our own racism. Our own ignorance. Our own oppression. Our own privilege. It is a giving up. A surrender. A being naked. A gesture of kindness and compassion to ourselves first. To allow a space for us to explore our biases. 

It is admitting that we are all wrong and right at the same time.

The media only fans the flames that rage inside all of us. The burn that keeps us pressing forward. The will to live. The want to be safe. Police officers and People of Color - white and black and brown and yellow and purple and blue - social workers and doctors and firefighters and mothers and fathers and politicians and activists and brothers and sisters and legislators and senators and scientists and historians and writers and artists. 

We have survived this long on this earth because the same fear courses through our systems. Social and physical. Mental and emotional. Political and civic. That of self-preservation. Fear is the blinding light. Only together can we dim it enough to see one another for who we are: Human.

As Maya Angelou wrote in her poem "Human Family":

"We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike.

We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike."

[thesvenbo]

https://soundcloud.com/thesvenbo/nottheamericandream

[thesvenbo]

What White People Can Do To Educate Themselves On Race

Social Workers are in a unique societal position to defend human rights and protect against injustice in whatever form it chooses to take. 

White Americans need to join the fight that so many People of Color have fought - and died for - for decades. We need to be the ones to join the fray in dismantling the heinous, egregious, inhumane affects of covert, institutionalized racism on our fellow human beings. 

Here are some resources for White Americans and Social Workers to critically examine their place in this fight:

- "Curriculum for White Americans to Educate Themselves on Race and Racism"

- "What White Children Need to Know about Race"

- "28 Common Racist Attitudes and Behaviors"

- "In Response to AllLivesMatter as a Response to #BlackLivesMatter"

- "This is what white people can do to support #BlackLivesMatter"

- “The list of demands from "Campaign Zero"

And in regards to Police Brutality:

- "I'm a black ex-cop, and this is the real truth behind race and policing"

- "The Science Behind Why Cops Kill Black Men - And How To Fix It"

- "Milgram experiment on obedience to authority figures"

- "The Stanford prison experiment (SPE)"

[thesvenbo]

Inequality - the age-old struggle between the haves and the have-nots - is at the root of nearly all of the world's ills. We have the tools, the resources, and the knowledge to make inequality a non-issue, but it requires a revolution. An upheaval of how we relate to one another. Together, we must unite to create a world that is equitable for everyone. #NOTtheAmericanDream

[thesvenbo]

"Hookup culture" as a phenomenon is nothing new. 

For myself, I've never quite understood it. Sexual freedom is, in my opinion, a human right and language can have a liberating affect. It provides the words - such as "fuck boy" and "side piece" - for taboos that allow us to talk about them openly. 

Still, anything can become an addiction, an escape. Sexual promiscuity is no different. A body, particularly when it is not our own, can be made a means to an end. 

We must ask ourselves: What am I running away from? What am I afraid of? Because anything that can be turned into an object can be used as a weapon.