A bestie texts me this last week:
The New York Magazine approval matrix, in case you’re unfamiliar, is, as they dub it: “Our deliberately oversimplified guide to who falls where on our taste hierarchies.” Liberal, snarky, it gives a snapshot of local happenings and national media minutiae. It’s fun and borderline pretentious. In an appropriately New York-y way.
My friend sent me this because of a voracious affair I’ve had with the term “crazypants” for the last year or so, gettin’ really hot and heavy in the past six months. So much so that in April I added to its definitions on urbandictionary.com.
Although my outbox says my first documented use of crazypants (alt. sp: crazy-pants, crazy pants) was March of 2010, while describing a Soho celeb yogic convo/run-in via private email, in my blog I used it six times ****** since last December, even playing on the phrase with a post titled: Ultimate Love: keeping the crazy in our pants. Not to mention droppin’ it oodles with my tribe, where we adopted the abbreviated “CP” as a code, gingerly steering each other away from certain peeps, at– say, a conference.
A Google search found almost no use of the term when not alluding to actual “pants.” However, in the spring of this year there were a couple references to Charlie Sheen and crazypants, which is a most excellent usage.
Marie Forleo, the uber-successful sassy sexpot entrepreneur is a woman who I follow and seriously admire. I don’t know her personally, although have best friends who participate and wax ecstatic on her programs from the super-selective adventure mastermind, all the way down the trickle of her mini femme-leaning biz empire.
I get her newsletter. She used crazy-pants on May 10th and then again on May 24th.
When my friend texted me the NY Mag use of the term last week, I thought, ok, it’s not just me, this is getting around town…
Is this a post about “oh, look how cool, I think I’m a trendsetter?”
No: quite the opposite.
I (as of yet) have no personal relationship with Marie, and don’t know anyone at NY Mag…, how did this word get mixed into the daily vernacular of our pithy New Yorker existence?
How does anything get passed on when it’s not told to you directly?
What’s IS the deal with that “100 monkey theory” thing?
I’m sure you’ve heard of the phrase “collective unconscious.” My teachers refer to it as (the Westernized synonym) “thought sphere,” where I myself prefer the traditional Sanskrit: Akashic Records.
The Akashic Records are basically a database for all the knowledge that has ever existed. Evah. And we can access it, like a library. Like the ultimate, Google-for-all-time. It also accesses us, whether we want it to or not, unconsciously or consciously.
That 90% of our brains we don’t use? That’s the part that taps in there and can feed on that knowledge.
Genius is never said to be “ours.” In fact, most geniuses do not take ownership of said thoughts and intuitions. (Unless you are talking about Charlie Sheen, which again nods the debate, genius vs. crazypants…)
Genius is just people who have entry in some way or another to the Akashic records that varies from the very vast general public—they were born with some brain valve open somewhere that others weren’t; we can develop our own connection by modes such as meditation…
The point is, ALL of the knowledge in the universe is there. We just: don’t know how to/won’t/are too lazy/are too skeptical to tap into it.
The little crazypants grapevine was interesting to me (obviously catching my attention because I was fully ensconced in a lengthy liason with its silliness) because also where did the word/phrase show up? A) In New York media. B) With someone whom, I had no direct contact, but would certainly love to knock back a coupla margaritas. Also a New Yorker.
This word traveled. And how did it travel to me? And if we are looking at a silly little made-up phrase that gets toted around unconsciously, what else is out there that we are unconsciously carrying around?
My teachers teach that we don’t own anything ourselves (how could we if it is all part of the collective) but in the same paradoxical breath, where we focus shapes our experience. There are a lot of layers to this teaching, but for now:
What do you pay attention to?
Nothing is innocuous. Nothing. Everything we ingest, say, put out there, swim around in, shapes and colors our life. That is our life.
US Weekly? Not innocuous. That’s your life.
Green juice, integrity, “The Bachelorette” or The Economist: different choices, different life.
These are the two paradoxical sides of the Akashic record coin to be aware of:
- Where you focus designates your experience.
- Any knowledge is not ours, it is only borrowed, floating by, a momentary glimpse and gift of the ether, but it’s all there for the sharing.
So, if you knew, through and through, in every cell of your being, that you had every answer to everything you ever needed, and all you needed to do was tap in to find it?
All ya need is to shoot on up to that Akashic record library, slurp into the collective unconscious that surpasses your brain and streams from your heart, and all of your problems are solved: forevs?
If you really knew that, how often would you tap in?
Well, guess what? You do have that. We all do. It’s the place that you know and that you know you know.
So, when are you going to tap in?
‘Cause from my perspective, to not access this? Well, that would be crazypants indeed.