I guess I'm preparing for the new year by loving the old. This is only one slender thread from my year, that interweaves with all the rest.

During the few months I’ve lived in East Bay, (and in San Francisco too), I’ve experienced puzzling situations. I thought they somehow had to do with martial arts, but I couldn’t really figure it out. I seemed to receive love from strangers for no clear reason, and I seemed to receive direct anger from strangers for unknown reasons. I received punishment, pranks, and odd, sometimes beautiful, expressions of thanks or support. Burned food, bug spray, chicken bones, white trash, incense, chimes, broken glass, flowers, duct tape, hugs, silver baubles, warnings of a sad and early demise or maiming or deliberate car accident or rape. Staged kissing scenes, crazy monologues, people eating in 'the neutral zone', being nudged toward and away from certain colors and decisions about work and residence. Facebook and Youtube art, music, cartoons were funneled my way. Teased about being a ‘cougar’, a ‘fag hag’, nun-like as my life ironically is. And I was aware of tension and division, of well-defined factions. There was a set-up martial arts game going on I figured out, but it seemed to involve a lot of people and territory, and some aspects seemed very genuine, like something else was going on. Teachers who I assumed knew all about the game seemed genuinely puzzled by some of the stuff I told them. So I was confused. Being human, I suffered through some of the hostile stuff, and was quite afraid at times. I was suspicious of the appreciation, and at times ate it up.

The worst part was that sharing these experiences with outside friends and family and martial arts people was met with general supportiveness but doubt, and sometimes open questioning about whether I’d gone crazy or paranoid being alone too long, or doing too much of this active meditation stuff. I debated that myself. What I was talking about was strange indeed. People silently following me, getting in my space at libraries, stores, sidewalks. Giving me star treatment, or no service at all. I became more isolated, having something so big going on with no one else who seemed to see it.

Saturday, in the middle of another painful setup, I managed to throw out a few questions, seeking to understand why this person I’d just met was behaving so bizarrely. And why was I treated so badly at some groceries and shops? I broke through the facade enough to learn two key terms: AIDS and Oscar Grant.

(Oscar Grant was an unarmed Oakland resident who was shot and killed on the public transit by a policeman almost exactly a year ago, before I arrived in California.)

Both of these, according to this man, are issues that are very alive, that divide the Bay Area community and its businesses in a big way, along ethnic lines, gay hostile/gay friendly, police hostile/police friendly, and religous practices.

It hasn't been all about me, but about the community. These pieces of information helped validate that my experiences have not been imagined, though how they may weave with the martial arts relationships, and why I'm involved, is still guesswork.

These situations have disoriented me, put me into hiding at times, contributed (along with ordinary human problems I have like anyone else) to the see-sawing of my art and mood. AIDS and police concerns and the division of communities-- I suspect a lot of people here are far more stressed than I.

This year has been a trip. There are a lot of touching, funny, and amazing stories. The tenacity of imaginative assumptions about divorced women has surprised me. Teasing out game from reality has been challenging. There's real life tension in this community like I've never experienced before, along with people who seem genuinely tired of dissension and working toward peace. Every day is a prayer. Life is full and beautiful with fantastic mystery and intersections. I try to be true to who I am and what I want and the people in my life. I try to keep a clear and present mind.