Showing posts with label Knowing My Self. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Knowing My Self. Show all posts

Saturday, November 17, 2012

A Perfect Reflection


Mirror, mirror, on the wall, we're just reflections after all. 

~*~

My stress level was through the roof tonight due to two jobs, several freelance projects, no sleep, and lots weighing on my mind for the weekend, plus I encountered a complete jerk on the road while driving home — like a rotten Ford cherry* sitting on top of a junkyard of frustration.

Yay.

NOT.

I was having such a hard time letting go of all that crappy emotion. I knew I needed to, I really wanted to, I was even desperate enough to flip through my mental rolodex of "tools" I've learned in various seminars, books, CDs, etc. (Aside from pure gratitude, I mostly liken those tools to glow sticks: fun in the moment while you're all playing together, but not terribly useful after twenty-four hours.)

Didn't matter - what I really wanted to do was just destroy something. It's all I could picture. It was insane - like my brain was warring with itself. The emotional side was completely flipped out while the logical side was observing and thinking how ridiculous it was that common sense and reasoning couldn't make me any less emotional.

Fortunately I can never bring myself to actual violence even if it would be let out in a constructive way (my beliefs lean too far toward Animism), but this negativity HAD to dissipate. (And I'm sorry, but punching pillows? That does NOT work. And the pillows will get you back by sticking your face with feather ends all night.)

For whatever reason, I took five minutes to check up on a few Facebook pages of people that always make me smile. Who knew that would be like a flood of Samadhi Advil for Off-the-hook Hormones?

I've met all the people I'm talking about, but some probably wouldn't know me. Just thinking about them though was like an instant hug (and only one is famous, smartypants friends who think they know who I'm talking about). People have no idea how truly far-reaching their calming, peaceful presence is. There's nothing (and everything) extraordinary about them. They just are who they are, but in their Being is this amazing gift to humanity. I am so grateful for their gifts.

As I scrolled pages and clicked on a video or pictures, this came to mind:


When I look at you, I see the part of me that is Love.


Sounded like truth, so I'm writing it down and sharing it.

Who does that for you?† Send some gratitude their way now.

No, really. I'll wait.

I hope maybe sometimes I offer that to others. (Can't say I'm confident about being that these last couple months tho. Working in an office creates a lot of stress for me. Still trying to resolve that.)

Some people's light just shines so bright it can reach through any conjured darkness and once again illuminate what's happy in yourself, bringing things back into balance. Thank goodness.


(Photo by Bill Bell)




* Yes, it was red, and I just now got the irony of the fact that it was a Ford Focus. Well played, Universe.

† In re-reading I realized how you hear that sentence in your head probably says a lot about your emotions. Did you read it "who does that for you?" or "who does that for you?" I meant it in the latter expression.



Saturday, July 02, 2011

I Am Grateful for Rockin' Awareness


A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral.
Antoine de Saint-Exupery


I was sitting on the patio tonight looking around and thinking (yes, I do that - sit there and think or daydream without moving for hours - been that way since I was a child) when I noticed that my roommate had stacked up a few pieces of rock and debris into a mini cairn under the oleanders. While my philosophical side (Right Brain) was being impressed with his creativity and thinking what a cool idea that was, my logical side (Left Brain) went straight to my Ego to collaborate. They whispered in a remote corner of my mind...

Left Brain: Hey, did you see what Roommate did? How cool of him.

Ego: We can do it bigger and better, but we need Right Brain to make it look all creative. Don't tell Right Brain what we're up to.

Left Brain: Ok.  Wait... what? What are we up to? (Trails after Ego...)

Oh brother.

Left Brain and Ego then go to Right Brain and say, "C'mon... let's build one too! Let's be creative and make it look all zen back here on the patio!" Right Brain was all, "OK!!" and fell right into it.

I have plenty of river rock that lines a small pathway between my patio and the green common area behind my condo (thanks to Boyfriend and same said Roommate). I immediately jumped over there, picked out a few rocks and proceeded to stack them up under the oleanders to the right of Roommate's little pile. Sitting back in my chair, Right Brain was all kinds of happy. "Look what we did! Yay! Rocks are cool! That was fun!" Left Brain and Ego were over in the frontal lobe stirring up trouble tho...

Left Brain: 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6 rocks. (Then in the Count's voice from Sesame Street, "Ahh ahh ahh ahhhhhh...")

Ego: Ha! It's more rocks than Roommate put together! We win! We have a taller cairn! Wait, is it called a cairn?

Left Brain: I dunno. Let's go look it up on the computer. (Which we did. Yes, it is called a cairn, but I could've sworn there was some other zennish Tibetan word for this kind of thing. If there is, I couldn't find it. Oh well.)

Ego (back on the patio admiring our handiwork): Awesome! Geez, when is Roommate gonna be home so we can show him we outdid him? Silly surfers.

Left Brain: Six rocks... hmmm... I'll bet we could get one more on there.

Ego: Yeah! Yeah! Let's put one more! Then it will be EVEN BIGGER!

Right Brain leans in: Six is good, but seven is better because it's a cooler number overall plus then you have one rock for each direction; north, south, east, west, above, below, and within.

Left Brain: Fine. Get one more.

We get one more and manage after a couple attempts to balance it on top.

Ego: WOO HOO! We now have seven! No one can beat us! We are the best rock pilers ever!

Right Brain: Uhh, guys? Does the pile look a little... I dunno... too orderly or something?

Ego: What? NO! It's awesome! Shut your synapse over there!

Left Brain: Of course it's orderly. All the rocks are nice and uniform and most are flat so easily stacked...

Right Brain: Yeah, exactly. It was EASY. Took like ten minutes tops. That means it was just winning a stupid contest (a non-existent one at that)... what did we learn from the experience? Nothing. Aren't we a little more creative than that? Shouldn't this inspire more thought? Reflection? Something? There is more to this than just putting one rock on top of the other.

Ego: Shut up Right Brain! You don't know what you're talking about. This rock pile is an indication of how amazingly spiritual we are and it's BIGGER than Roommate's. That's all that counts. Wait until he sees.

Right Brain: Yeah, I dunno. I just think it's not very CREATIVE. I mean it's really rather BORING and predictable all stacked with the biggest on the bottom and the smallest on the top - is that an indication of who we are? Boring and predictable? Gods, I hope not. Ours looks like a child did it.

Ego: Does NOT!

Right Brain: (Glances over at Roommate's cairn.) Yeah, ours may be bigger, but his is definitely better because it's creative. It was inspired. You know how he is... he sits out here thinking just like we do. He was probably out here looking around and got inspired. Look at it... his has different materials (not just the river rock) and they're all different shapes and sizes and stuff. Definitely better than ours, even if it is smaller. It's more thought-full. More is not always better.

Ego: Yes it is.

Left Brain (looking disdainfully at Ego): True, Right Brain. I hadn't thought of that. I do like that ours is logical and uniform but it's not nearly as creative as Roommate's - ours is definitely boring. Perhaps we should spice it up a bit.

Ego: Gods, you can be a drag Right Brain.

Right Brain goes and picks out other, differently-shaped rocks from the pathway and tries to balance them. It's much harder and takes a lot longer. Right Brain then tries using a twig in the stack, tumbling the whole thing many, many times over.

Ego: This SUCKS now. Thanks Right Brain.

Right Brain: Does not suck! It's supposed to be meditative! Shut up while I keep trying to balance this!

Ego: YOU shut up. I'm off to pout.

Left Brain: Here... try it this way... no that way... crap. Try this... no, that... ok, do this again... crap. An engineer would probably have this figured out in 10 seconds. Gods. Let's give up.

Right Brain: No! I'm having fun here. If it's not seven rocks tall it's not the end of the world.

Left Brain: But you HAVE to use all seven rocks because seven is a cool number and we already HAVE seven rocks!

Right Brain: I don't HAVE to do anything. We'll see what comes out.

Silence for a good 20 minutes.

Ego leans in: Are you all ZEN now, idiot?

Right and Left Brain: SHHHHHH!!!

 Many, many failed attempts later...

Right Brain: Ok, I think there was probably nothing wrong with the original orderly pile. Maybe that IS just who we are deep down. I dunno. I'm okay with it being orderly but maybe we can put the twig on top like some kind of antennae. Yeah, that's it. It's a Snail Control Tower instructing all the snails in the bushes who can go on which slime trail so there are no accidents.

Ego: You are RETARDED.

Left Brain: Okay, we'll do the orderly pile but we still have these other few rocks left over and of course we can't just throw them back because we already picked them up for a purpose.

Right Brain: Ok, we'll build a second cairn next to Roommate's and leave the first orderly Snail Control Tower pile over here. That way they're all used AND we get to show two different sides of us.

Left Brain: I'm good with that.

Right Brain: I don't remember playing like this since we were really little. This is kinda cool. Who knew rocks were so fun! I'll bet if you post this on the blog people will think it might be time to look into a good asylum for us.

Left Brain: Ha! Could be.

We build another cairn next to Roommate's with the remaining rocks, plus we add in a piece of bark that we had tried to use to rebuild the Snail Tower.

Right Brain: That one is awesome too! And it doesn't look nearly as boring as the Snail Control Tower. It's about the same height as Roommate's too. Yay for unity and like minds!

Left Brain: Yeah, that's pretty cool. Can we sit and think again now?

Right Brain: Ok, I'm just going to admire the handiwork close up for one more minute.

Ego (sneaking back in): You know, there's a couple chips of concrete laying there. That would be a third material. Might add something cool.

Right Brain: Don't fix what ain't broke.

Ego: I'm not trying to fix anything! Just think it would be cool on top. They're different sizes and shapes and stuff.

Right Brain: Ok fine.

Ego: (Smug grin)

Right Brain: There. Two concrete chips on top. Now it's done.

We sit back down on the chair.

Ego: HA. The "creative" one is two concrete chips taller than Roommate's.

Right AND Left Brain: SHUT UP EGO.

~~~~~~~ <3 <3 <3 ~~~~~~~

If you want to see a true master of rock stacking, check out Jim Needham from Carmel, CA. :)

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Life Reflections

I'm watching a free video series from Oprah that's available on iTunes. She calls it her Soul Series and one of the people she interviews is Eckhart Tolle. (Another one totally worth listening to is Byron Katie. I'd never heard of her before the Leadershift 2010 conference, but darnit, here is another person that has already put into a book exactly what I've been thinking for years! I've GOT to get on this author thing!) I loved Eckhart's book, A New Earth, and I highly recommend it.

In Part 2 of Oprah's interview with Tolle, she opens the phone lines so callers can ask him questions. The first caller asks him, "How do you embody what you talk about—you being free of the domination of ego? Can you please share your experience of being in the here and now."

He gives some explanation to lay out how he lives in the present moment and clarifies that he also lives with awareness of chronological time. He says the primary focus is always on the present moment. It makes life very simple (I'm paraphrasing) and can also be described as a state of surrender to life. He goes on to say if you live a life full of trouble, a very important question to ask yourself is, "What is my relationship to this moment? Am I making this moment into an enemy? Am I treating this moment as an obstacle that I need to overcome?"

Eckhart says he, personally, has a very friendly relationship with the present moment as he doesn't put the present in a negative light, as if it's something he has to endure or get through (again, paraphrasing) to get on to something happier. I can totally identify with that. I know I USED to be that way, and perhaps sometimes I fall back into it. However, for the most part since I've been in San Diego I've had plenty of challenging moments, but I've also found surrendering to them makes life easier, and friendlier (I like that description :).

Remaining present, and choosing what is happening *now* has kept my monkey mind from focusing too much on the past or future, thereby creating a problem where none exists. Problems can only exist in the future and past. There may be challenges in the present moment, but there are no problems because problems require time to build, and the present moment holds no time as we understand it, especially not enough time to build an entire problem.

So he says if you're living a stressful life, a tool to use for change is to stop and ask yourself several times a day, "'How am I relating to the present moment?' Because when you do that what you're really asking is 'What is my relationship with life?' because the present moment is essentially your life. You can only encounter your life in the present moment. So it's a vital question to ask yourself 'what is your relationship with life?' because if your life is one of hostility, which is when you make the present moment into an obstacle or an enemy, then life always reflects back to you your predominant state of consciousness."

I love how he put this particular thought - that life always reflects back to you your predominant state of consciousness. I wanted to make note of it for myself as well as share it with whoever might be reading here because I feel this is a really great way to get the idea across that YOU are creating your life. Not some guy behind a curtain or an angry old man on a throne in the sky - it's all YOU baby.

What are you reflecting today? Right now?

And what are you reflecting NOW?

How 'bout now?

How 'bout now?

Yeah, I know, I could go on with that forever. If you have trouble remembering to stop and ask yourself this question throughout the day, set a series of alarms on your phone's calendar (or something you refer to frequently to keep track of your day) to bring your focus to the present for at least those few seconds each day. Eventually you will find yourself anticipating the reminder, therefore it is already being brought to the front of your consciousness, and it will become a *good* habit. (The word "habit" has definitely earned an undeserved reputation as something negative.)

The best time to ask that question tho is *every* time you encounter change, which for most humans, is A LOT during a 24 hour period. Change can encompass something as common as a car moving into your lane on the freeway, or as large as news that changes your life. Good or bad, change creates a lot of stress for us meat suits because we are forced to adapt and evolve to fit the new situation, sometimes very quickly. It is a survival instinct to be able to do so. If your automatic reaction to change is resistance, hostility, anger, sadness or anything less than acceptance, imagine the percentage of the day you spend feeling yukky! Are you sure you want to live that way? Wouldn't you rather be happy NOW?


I hadn't really thought about how I reached the state of peace I currently enjoy 90% of the time, but looking back I suppose I just kept asking myself, "What am I feeling in this moment? Do I want to be this or happy?" I kept choosing happy until the answer was "I'm already happy and it don't get better than that!" a good majority of the time. It's a matter of continuing to bring your focus back to RIGHT NOW.

That picture of the outdoor banner over on the right side of this very blog that says,"You are here, but are you present?" That is the wallpaper on the front of my phone. Even when I'm looking at it without really seeing it, I think it taps my subconscious and says, "Pssst. Are you really present to this moment?" Like I said... it's become a habit.

I think since we're all human there will always be some times when we're less than happy, so for those perfectionists out there (me included) I have also come to realize that acceptance also means life will not be perfect 100% of the time. How boring would that be anyway? I would be surprised if even Eckhart said he's in a state of bliss 100% of the time.

I've said many times that I have gratitude for the lows because without them, how would we define and enjoy the highs? So even in sadness or anger or whatever, I realize somewhere deep down it's ok to have that too. The word AND is so much more powerful than that word OR.

Well, my thoughts are starting to fly all over and no doubt it has something to do with it being 5am. Just wanted to put that out there tho because the reflection is beautiful. :)

Tuesday, March 02, 2010

I'd Like To Scream Now Please

Have you ever felt the pull between doing what you *think* you must do and what you *feel* you want to do? How do you decide what is the RIGHT thing to do??

Right now I have three different blogs (was only two until about 10 seconds ago, then a friend emailed me an article on brain imaging that is creating more content in my head!) that I really really want to write because they'll be interesting (all science-y and stuff!) and that's what I feel I really WANT to do today.

However, I only have 9 weeks left on unemployment and if I don't find a job that will bring in enough income to pay my bills soon, I could be writing blogs from a tent in the park, hoping to have enough gas to get to a Starbucks to upload them on free wi-fi. Therefore what I *should* be doing is getting dressed and going out to hand people my resume and try to impress someone.

But what I'd really LIKE to make a living at is writing! Hence, I should write, right? But writing is not paying my bills at the moment.

Insert scream here.

Tuesday, February 02, 2010

Red Lining

How to tell when you're using the computer too much: You're writing in a book, with old fashioned pen and ink, and for a split second you wait to see if a red underline appears under a word because you're not sure you spelled it correctly.

Oh yes, yes I did. Just now, writing in my gratitude journal. Pathetic!

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Blonde Moment

"You grow up the day you have the first real laugh...at yourself."

- Ethel Barrymore.

People driving next to me must think I'm schizophrenic. I often think something or see something that makes me bust out laughing and I'm in the car all by myself.

The other night I was driving home. I had stopped at Panera to grab some soup for dinner and they were just about to close. After grabbing my brown bag I decided I wanted coffee too and went back to the counter to pay. The dude said "Don't worry about it..." so I got a free coffee. AWESOMENESS. The only thing better than coffee is FREE coffee. Panera has really good coffee too - I mix the decaf with the hazelnut and OMG. Heaven!

So I'm driving home with free coffee in one hand and the wheel in the other thinking life is pretty darn happenin' right now. The cell phone was sitting on my lap and it rang. And I shit you not, I look at it and think, "Crap, if I answer it I won't have a hand to drive with! How will I answer the phone?!" As if NOT answering the phone was simply not an option. A nanosecond later I realized the absurdity of what I was thinking and totally laughed at myself. Then I put the coffee in the cup holder and answered the phone. (Not that that was the right thing to do either because really talking and driving is probably not that great.)

Even after hanging up, I started laughing again at how stereotype Hollywood my thoughts had been. You see them joke about these things in the movies and wonder, "Who DOES that kind of thing?!" Apparently I do. In a blonde moment. Oh well. This wasn't the first time I've cracked myself up. I sure hope it doesn't mean I'm GROWN up tho as the quote above would indicate!

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Top Ten Clues You Are Over 40

1. You are no longer faking your inability to open a jar just to win points by making The Man feel all manly.

2. The Man actually IS a man, not just a Guy.

3. You feel like a pedophile when you receive Abercrombie's email ads with the hairless, naked boy-chest plastered across your screen. You also wonder if it's wrong to still like/wear their clothes.

4. You go to a concert and wish the kids around you would shut up and listen already.

5. You think of other concert-goers as "kids."

6. You cheat on the eye exam at DMV by casually walking up to the eye chart while waiting for your number to be called and memorizing the letters. (And think how lucky you are that you can remember that many letters!)

7. Retail clerks call you "M'am" instead of "Miss" to get your attention. You, of course, ignore them unless they walk over and get in your face because there is NO WAY "M'am" could be referring to you.

8. No one cards you anymore for anything, even if the sign says they card everyone under 80.

9. You receive a blank stare from the Starbucks barista when you make a joke about the Reagan Administration.

10. You no longer leave your clothes in piles on the floor - one for clean and one for dirty... oh wait...

(Yes, I wrote those. And no, leaving piles of clothes on the floor is not me. That would be the bf.)

Sunday, October 11, 2009

She Sees You When You're Sneaking

Stomach: I need a snack.

Brain: Eat something healthy. There's apples - have one of those.

Stomach: Ok. But only if we put the butterscotch caramel on them that we were thinking about the other day when we bought the apples.

Brain: No. That's not healthy.

Stomach: Well YOU were the one thinking about it.

Brain: Yes, but it's not healthy.

Stomach: Screw that. Hey Arm - get the caramel out of the frig.

::Arm goes digging for caramel in frig::

Brain: There's organic peanut butter in here. That's much healthier. Put that on the apples instead.

Stomach: NO WAY!

Brain: Jason Mraz would eat peanut butter instead of caramel.

Stomach: Pffffttt. You're just trying to trick me! He can't be a nutritional saint 100% of the time.

Brain: How do you ever expect to lose those extra five pounds if you eat caramel instead of peanut butter?

Stomach: It's OCTOBER. Apples and caramel go together in October.

Brain: That's a crappy excuse.

Stomach: Will be when *I'm* done with it.

Brian: hardee har har. Eat the peanut butter.

Stomach: No.

Brain: Karma is a bitch. You've met her before.

Stomach: I promise to stop eating sugar tomorrow.

"...and that's how I got here. How did YOU end up in this handbasket?" I asked.

Wednesday, October 07, 2009

The Atheist's Nightmare

OMG - I am SOOOO laughing at this:

~*~

In other news, it was quiet at the house today because the roommate was out working and I was aware that I had the place to myself. I think my place was aware of it too. Funny how everything looks exactly the same, but the air is completely different depending on who is breathing in it. I haven't felt the serenity here since the roommate moved in seven months ago. It's not his fault - he's just being him and he's not the spiritual animal I am. My bad for choosing someone so unlike me. However, I didn't realize how far into a corner I'd pushed my inner wisdom. I felt a bit like a boiled frog hopping out of the pot.

Anytime you open yourself back up to the Cosmos after a will-full separation it's like a reunion of old friends rushing at each other with hugs and love and joy. In re-joy-ning the Universe tho, the usual tumble of human words and emotion is replaced by an entanglement of thoughts, and boy I had them in spades.

There is a chair in my living room that I totally overpaid for because it has so much character I just had to have it at any price. It's huge (I can sit in it cross-legged comfortably) and looks like something from a Hollywood-esque funky cool coffee shop. It's got dark wood, brass nails, and leopard print fabric. Oh yes it does. (I totally admit I have a chair fetish. Read here about my $10 chair. Ironically, the $10 chair sits opposite the overpriced chair, so it's like some sort of karmic chair-balancing weirdness.) When I found my leopard chair, I pictured myself meditating in it every day. It's a great chair. :) I wanted it in my bedroom for the privacy factor, but it wouldn't fit so it's in the living room. Unfortunately I'm never comfortable in the living room when the roommate is home because his bedroom is right next to it and there's either loud music or his presence invading the space, so the best seat in the house is neglected and the "living" room has become the dead, unused room instead. But not today. I settled into the down-filled cushions and opened my head to the downpour of thoughts that have been somewhat-impatiently waiting for me to look their way. My iguana stared at me and I stared off into space. For hours. Seriously. Every so often I looked over at the lizard and went, "WHAT?!"

Right on the top of the heap was what I should be doing next as gainful employment. It's not like I haven't been thinking about this for six months, but I keep coming up blank: I have no clue what I want to be when I grow up. I've read enough to know I'm not the only one with this problem, but I'm at an impasse. Everything I find fun in small doses I picture turning into a chore if I'm forced to do it 40 hours a week. I can't stand the thought of going back to a job that I dread showing up for, yet I need to pay the bills and I still have not won the lottery - damn the bad luck. I haven't had one response in a month of serious filling out of online applications. (Why doesn't ANYONE give you a name/number to follow up with?! We are WAY too automated these days.) Not a call, not an email, not even a "get lost." Of course, these are all large companies I've been applying to and monoliths like that move at the speed of tree growth. Many of the jobs I'm a perfect fit for and I can't understand why I haven't at least gotten an interview, but when I stop pretending to be blind, I know what's going on.

I've been dancing around this idea of making Reiki my primary job for... well, for years. I think my Higher Self is tired of waiting for me to pull my head out of the sand. Perhaps I am unconsciously rejecting other options in favor of the direction I know I should be going. I know how to market myself, but I hate doing it. I know I'm worthy of being paid for the service, but I hate accepting it. I know I have a decent gift in being able to move chi around and through and between, but I'm scared to grab onto that and run with it. Trust me, I have 100 excuses I tell myself whenever it comes up. Even so, I know somewhere in the recesses of my brain I need to stop effing around and take a stab at this. The Universe has taken care of every detail to allow me to do this. It's like this big open door and I'm standing there going "maybe I should just do this other thing before walking through there." I can be so dumb!

I even bought a massage table recently. Found a practically new one of a well-known brand for next to nothing. It's been sitting in the hallway for a couple weeks, as nonplussed as my chair for the lack of love it's receiving. I have all the tools. I have all the knowledge. The Knowing part of me screams "JUST DO IT." The rest of me sounds like the mean kids in school: "People will laugh. It's not a real job. You don't know enough yet. Your family will think you're even more of a freak than they already do."

About 6:00 tonight the alarm on my phone went off reminding me that I jotted down a business networking event at a local metaphysical store just in case I managed to grow a pair. I hemmed and hawed about whether I wanted to go, and in the end I put on my damn shoes and forced myself to walk out the door (huh - at least I walked through ONE door today!). I drove to Oceanside telling myself, "I am completely scared and totally unprepared but isn't that how most grand adventures start? Besides, this is the least logical action to take and walking the road less traveled has worked for me before. Look at New Jersey. And San Diego. I've been standing immobile for too long so I need to move in SOME direction even if it's the wrong one."

By the time I got there I had bullied myself into believing I was going to shake everyone's hand at that event and at least introduce myself even if I didn't have cards to hand out or a plan of any sort. I was going to start this new career path NOW dammit. No more excuses! I mean it's not like these people were going to eat me like trolls. Besides, I brought cookies that I'd baked earlier with me so I could distract them. Even trolls cannot resist the chocolate chip deliciousness.

I pulled into the parking lot and the store was dark and closed, and not a networking event to be found. Hmmm. I felt such a wave of relief it was ridiculous. Truly, what is my deal with the social phobias? I'm fine with people one on one, but gather a couple together, especially ones I don't know, and I'm a mess. I suppose I should at least give myself some credit for going.

I KNOW this is what I should be doing. I am just afraid I will succeed I guess. Sometimes it really sucks to know yourself so well.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

I Want To Live Like I Know What I'm Leaving

I’ve never experienced more often than in San Diego, that sudden, surreal sense of complete wonderment like you get when you’re having a lucid dream and you are unexpectedly aware that you’re dreaming even as you do it. You’re just existing along in an other-dimensionly state, then it’s like, “Wait… what? I’m where? Oh wow!” It’s a very weird feeling – like you’re not sure what to believe is real or part of your imagination. Of course, really, it’s ALL part of your imagination, but that abrupt insight that perhaps NONE of this is real – awake or asleep, no matter which direction you look - will shake your psyche up, sometimes gently and sometimes not. I’ll bet it’s similar to waking up from a coma (not that I have any wish to have a personal point of comparison on that one!).

The thing I’m talking about happens when I’m entirely awake – well, in as much as life is “an awake dream.” It sneaks up on me and pounces… I’m just doing something mundane (usually driving) and suddenly I’m all “OMG, I LIVE in California. [Like this is news to me.] I LIVE here. Like EVERY DAY. And I’m HAPPY.” I don’t know how else to describe it besides some kind of spiritual awakening. Maybe it’s the happy part that shocks me the most. I don’t think I’ve ever been so consistently happy, but then I’ve also never had so much time to do whatever the hell I want either. I’m a little afraid that will change when I have to go back to work, but I’m not considering that right now at any length.

Making it doubly odd (to me at least) is that these thoughts sometimes come in the middle of a day where I feel I’ve accomplished nothing, and I’m getting a bit depressed over some trivial matters. I’m headed down an ugly spiral when all Thought pauses on a step, then an updraft like this hits me and deposits me with a rude thunk at the top of the staircase. I sit there rubbing my third eye like I’ve just been poked awake by the Gods. Hmmm. What was it I was busy getting upset about? Oh, nevermind.

It’s not the fact of my geographical location that puts me in awe (well, a little, because energies are different in different places and this just happens to be a place I jive with), it’s that I’m actually DOING something that once seemed almost impossible – certainly I had no plan and no assured funding when I set out on this path, but here I am and I’m still surviving. (And ever, ever so slowly chipping away at the debt I made getting here.)

Moving here started as a radical idea (so was New Jersey so apparently radical ideas work for me) and I’ve brought it to reality and I’m doing it. I’m still not quite sure how, but it's happening. I’m still here. No one has knocked down my door and said YOU MUST STOP THIS RIGHT NOW. Kind of like when you first move out of your parents’ house and suddenly realize if you want to eat ice cream for breakfast, no one is going to invade the kitchen and say, “No you can’t.” Or even “No you shouldn’t.” (And hell yeah – that’s why I still eat ice cream or brownies or cake or pancakes [oh wait...] for breakfast sometimes!)

I know I’m successful like this in plenty of smaller ways – often even – but moving somewhere and LIVING there and not needing anyone else’s help (at age 40 you’d think this would be normal, but I suppose I never got over that) is still sometimes a shock. Like hey, I actually CAN do this and I’m not going to die! Awesome!

I’m not sure how long living in California has been a dream even – certainly it’s not one of those life-long things because I only really started thinking about it a couple years ago. Or maybe I’m wrong; when my mother and I traveled to San Francisco when I was in 6th grade, I knew there was something special about this state even back then because it’s one of those memories I recall often and clearly. But I don’t remember craving living here (or at least knowing if I moved again, California would be the goal) until a few years back.

The smallest things usually set off the feeling. Noticing how many cars have surf-related stickers on the back. Or driving along The 5 (local lingo for Interstate 5) and seeing the vast expanse of ocean off to the side. Sitting in a coffee shop I’ve read about in a blog or hearing of something happening in LA and knowing I'm close enough that if I wanted to attend, it's an option. Weird!

I’ve often thought of these feelings as being like living in a movie. Maybe that’s why they have such an impact on me. I mean don’t we all really want to live a Hollywood life 24 hours a day deep down? Hollywood makes everything so flawless and the story almost always has a happy ending, right? Who doesn’t want that?

Well I haven’t reached some of the happy endings I’ve had normal “conscious” dreams about yet, but I’m working on them. Trouble with those is that when they don’t come to fruition in the timeline I plan, it causes stress or worry unless I can convince myself enough that stress and worry are futile and if I’m not getting what I expected, then the timing just isn’t right yet. (It’s one thing to know this in your head, quite another to convince your heart.)

But these unconscious dream-goals – are they really dreams or are they a sudden awareness, that hey – you are right where you are meant to be in that moment? But aren’t we always right where we’re meant to be in any given moment? I mean the Universe works perfectly, so why wouldn’t we be? What makes SOME of those most seemingly insignificant moments so powerful while the events that you’ve consciously worked for don’t elicit the same reaction?

Whatever it is, I’m glad they happen.

I’m actually sitting in the car outside the grocery store typing this in a very cramped, uncomfortable position because for once I have the computer with me when good blog material crystalized in my head. Ironically, I spent four hours prior to now in two different coffee shops trying to get inspired to write something. All I got was severely caffeinated. What a thing. Maybe I should haul the Mac around with me more often cuz I never lack for thoughts to share, it’s just that the ideas seem to evaporate when I’m within easy reach of the keyboard. The car, the shower, the toilet (oh yes) are when I get inspired. Imagine. But there’s nowhere to record the thoughts when you’re stuck in such places and they slip back into the ether like so many drops of rain in the Pacific.

Fortunately this time I was prepared so I’m glad to be sharing this, however, I’d better go get my groceries before the store closes or before they send the cops over to check out what the chick in a parking lot is doing on the computer. Surely it’s porn! Or witchcraft! Or worse! People are so suspicious of anything outside “the norm.” Pity. That’s usually where all the good stuff happens.

Soundtrack: Awakening by Switchfoot

Sunday, July 19, 2009

She's Like So Whatever

Have you ever done something you knew was going to come back around and slap your karma silly but you didn’t regret it one single little bit? I’m not normally prone to drama, but once in awhile it comes looking for me.
My landlady – who is AWESOME – gave me two huge silk trees a couple weeks ago because they didn’t sell at her garage sale and she didn’t want to deal with hauling them to Goodwill. (She only lives a half mile up the road from me.) She knows I’m a craigspert (i.e., expert with craigslist.com) so she offered them to me if I wanted to sell them, and she didn’t even want a share of the money! This is not the first time she’s practically given me the rent this way. Like I said – total sweetheart. <3
When she dropped them off, they had price tags that said $60 crossed out and marked down to $50. I can’t believe no one bought them for that price. They were both in excellent shape and not even dusty, and given their size and quality, a designer would charge upwards of $150 each for them. I put them on craigslist for $80 each including delivery and today they sold. Yay! I had to drive 45 minutes to Mira Mesa to drop them off, but it was worth the gas to make the $160. Pure profit is a beautiful thing.
Turns out the lady that bought them only lives 2 miles from my – dare I say – boyfriend. You see, our relationship (like everything else in my life) is not easily pigeonholed by conventional terms. This male friend and I have been seeing a lot of each other (A LOT) over the last several months, and the mutual respect and love has carved a groove a little deeper than either one of us intended. Even so, we have both agreed that our long-term goals do not mesh precisely; therefore we have not made any commitment to each other. I accept that and I understand the reasons why, even tho my hormones sometimes commit mutiny.
He’s the one that started the name-calling tho. I thought perhaps “girlfriend” was just a convenient adjective to describe me to his buddies since I am his friend and I am a girl and humans are territorial creatures, but he’s stated it means more to him, and his actions match his words. He seemed pleased when I started referring to him as my boyfriend, so no trouble there. My heart ran away with that even while my brain was shaking its finger saying, “You know this doesn’t change anything; he’s still not thinking marriage. He’s made that clear.” My Cinderella complex was like, “Yeah yeah, whatever. Shut up. Can’t you see I’m busy swimming in this romance here?”
This is why men and women are generally not best friends outside of romance, because eventually one gets too keen on the other and it ruins the whole thing. Damn the bad luck of owning the boobs, cuz it’s usually that one which falls first. ::sigh::
Up until now, when he’s chosen to spend an evening with someone else, I’ve just swallowed my emotions and reminded myself I have no claims on him. It’s been easy because he’s not spending multiple evenings with anyone serious and he’s certainly not an ass about it or anything. If anyone has been an ass, it’s been me because I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut about my own isolated incidents (which mostly happen because I feel like they should, since I know this won’t last forever). Some might say that’s passive aggressive, but really it’s just me being dreadful at keeping secrets. I hate secrets because they make me paranoid.
I know there will come a day when he will find the right girl and I will have to let go and it will suck hard (except for the pints of Haagen-Dazs), but until then I’m having a really good time. Live in the moment, right? Appreciate what is NOW. I totally get that. I try really hard to walk my talk. He’s not breaking any promises, so it’s up to me to be an adult about it and keep myself in check. I’m just enjoying it while it lasts. I keep deciding it’s worth the pending heartache.
Do you see the big BUT(T) coming?
A woman he used to date from across the pond arrived Tuesday to visit for a month. I know that Europeans vacation for much longer than Americans do, so I don’t find the timeline suspect. I also know she’s not staying in his guest room (or a hotel if you get my drift), but again – I have no claims so I can’t complain. What bothers me is that suddenly I’ve gone from “girlfriend” and primary companion to secret (??!) dinner date after the Mon/Thurs workout, and the sleepover ritual has been terminated until further notice. He was even checking his watch after we ate. It’s like he got married overnight. (And no, he did NOT. God, I hope I’m not THAT blind.)
When I asked what the deal was, he said his foreign friend was not mature enough (emotionally) to understand our relationship. (Read: he didn’t tell her what he was doing.)
Christ, haven’t I been here, done that? What did I miss the last 10 times around? How am I here again?
That’s rhetorical.
I admitted I was jealous, and told him calmly and rationally about all my icky thoughts on the situation; how I felt very excluded even on a regular friend level. I am not this shut out when his family visits, or even when he has parties attended by State-side ex-girlfriends. He stuck with the “she wouldn’t understand” (read: approve) story. The Inside Voice said fuck her – she needs to grow up.
Instead I said, “Then why are you still friends with her? People that didn’t get Mark’s and my openness didn’t hang around long. If you can’t run with the big dogs, then stay on the porch.”
THEN out my mouth came “Fuck her, she needs to grow up.” (Because THAT was so mature. And yes, Jess, I see the irony.)
Points to him for letting that go.
He went on to say she’s way more into him than he is into her. It sounds lame, but it’s something he’s expressed before outside of these circumstances and it’s been my own experience with him, so why would I think he’s lying? She IS a friend, which is why she’s staying at his house. They have a history, and he and I aren’t exclusive. Just because he likes her too doesn’t mean he likes me any less, so case closed.
My own logic does nothing to assuage my stinging emotions.
To support his claim, he explained he’s not that into her because she’s gained weight. Knowing how freaky he is about his own weight and his penchant for trophy women, I have to assume this is also true, but neither does this lessen my jealousy. What IS it with the stupid human emotions?? I should know better.
To preserve the scrap of dignity I was clinging to, I asked him not to come over again until she’s gone home. (I have some decisions to make between now and then anyway.) Which means we won’t see each other at all for a month – not even for the party he’s throwing, which he did invite me to even tho she will still be there. I have truly warred with myself on whether I’m cutting off my nose to spite my face, or whether I’m just enforcing my boundaries. Just when you think you’ve got all the grey areas covered, the Universe makes a greyer one.
I relented on IM/email, so we will remain in contact for as long as I can stand sitting on my Ego. This is weird in so many ways after spending almost every day together for so long. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth (which my friends Ben and Jerry are going to help fix).
So I told you all that so I could tell you what I don’t regret…
Todaaaaayyyyy I told him on IM that I sold the trees because we like to share our craigslist triumphs. I also told him I was delivering them 2 miles from his house, to which he replied, “Why don’t you drop by for a game of pool?” (He just bought a new pool table and he’s been having fun seeing how much he can screw up his game just so I can keep up. What a doll. :) I dunno if he really thought I would or not, but hey, he offered and I MISS him and it’s only been a handful of days. And then the ‘tude kicks in and I decide perhaps the balls on the pool table aren’t the only ones that need to be dug out of the pockets. I mean seriously. How old are we?
(HA – quick note here: A ladybug just flew in, buzzed my head, and landed on the wall in front of me. It’s been dark out for awhile; I was under the impression that ladybugs are not generally nocturnal, so I take this as a sign. I Google “ladybug medicine” and I get this page, which is weird in its own right because the title is “Follow the Dragonfly.” HELLO. Universe is texting me again. Except it’s not limited to 160 characters since it’s all Infinite and stuff. Haha
In summary, ladybug represents energies of renewal and regeneration. It teaches us to release worry and “let go and let God.” Shows us how to stop harming ourselves. And lastly says to get out of our own way and allow Great Spirit to enter.
::sigh:: Crap. Ok, I suck.
I don’t know how atheists can believe there is NOTHING [even if it is an advanced version of our own selves] watching from some other dimension we haven’t even dreamed of yet.
Moving on…)
So I deliver the trees, collect almost $200 and pass go. This is the part I’m sure karma will swing back on me for, but perhaps I also learned a valuable lesson already. Afterall, isn’t that what we’re here for? To provide each other with learning opportunities?
First let me say, his take on the following was that his ladyfriend avoided confronting me, like some kind of mouse. Could be true – certainly he knows her and I don’t, and it’s always amazing how a group of people may all witness the same event but come away with different versions of what happened. Another girl he was fooling around with when we first started hanging out was also very mousy when I finally located my pride and put myself in front of her to say hi at a party, so it’s not an unreasonable conclusion. We do tend to pick the same type of people over and over in our lives. But his view is not at all what I experienced.
When I asked him tonight how much trouble he was in, he said none. He could be blowing it off to avoid any further bullshit from me (which is entirely understandable; I’m not exactly being reasonable over this). His answer gave me some perspective on why I may have experienced it the way I did. (As in my personal history skewing my perception, much like how we see light refracted through a prism.)
Perhaps my version only took place in my own head (well, of course it did, but you know what I mean), but I’m learning to trust my sixth sense and a lot of it was hitting that radar, not the standard five. We’ll never know since the other two parties wouldn’t be inclined to talk about it (nor would at least one party be capable of self-examination to that depth from what I’ve heard), but it’s food for thought. This must be how people end up in the nuthouse.
Anyway… here’s what * I * saw happen.
He had given me a key to his house, so I used it. Loudly. I walked in and yelled jokingly, “Ok, put your clothes on and let’s play some pool.” No response. The house was weirdly quiet. Hmm. Maybe he knew they were leaving which is why he extended the invite. Oh well. It’s not like I made a special trip. We do play pranks on each other. If I was interrupting anything I figured I would’ve heard something immediately, so that wasn’t it.
But there’s rustling coming from the garage. I go check it out and he’s putting the arcade back together. Oh good, he just didn’t hear me and we get to play afterall. He looks only slightly surprised to see me.
After greetings, we set up a game. I’m racking up balls and he’s checking his cue stick when his ladyfriend appears at the top of the stairs. He tries to introduce me as his friend that helped him change all his furniture thru craigslist (which is entirely true :) but I can see she’s not buying it and his words seem to fade at the end of his sentence. I’m amazed that he sounds not like his normal cocky self, but more like a little boy trying to avoid trouble. Who is this guy? I know he’s told me he hasn’t always been as confident as he is nowadays, but wow. I almost feel guilty for coming over. Almost.
She barely glances at me and mumbles some acknowledgment with an accent I can’t help but find charming, which of course sends my Ego into a whirlwind of conflict. (Fuck charming – but it was charming – I said fuck charming! I’m not ready to let go of my jealousy!)
I try a dry “nice to meet you,” which garners not just NO response, but the true meaning of DEAD AIR becomes crystal clear to me at that moment.
She keeps staring at him and doesn’t look at me again. The silence is beginning to stretch.
There are people I know, and others that have been described to me as “being able to suck all the fun right out of a room just with their presence,” but this is the Dyson of uncomfortable vacuums. For a split second I am paralyzed as if we’ve been caught doing something naughty (not even close – we’re at opposite ends of the table). I think I was actually holding my breath. Then suddenly I find the whole thing terribly amusing and I have to beat down a laugh.
It looks like he is in a lot of trouble (or perhaps we woke her up? But I doubt it). I had to rethink whether the words I heard in my head were actually spoken by her, and honestly I don’t think they were, but they came across loud and clear and even in her accent, which I had only heard in one mumbled sentence two seconds ago. I heard “Why is she here?” You know – in that clenched teeth tone, but only inside my head.
The lack of sound now feels like a lead weight infusing itself into every particle in the room and dropping effectively to the floor. No one said anything. This could all be just me, I dunno, but it was absolutely surreal. I always joke about “thinking things really loudly” but in this case, it might be the truth.
I think he’s lucky to be alive because I wasn’t real sure looks couldn’t kill right then. She seemed to be totally staring him down. He was kinda all deer-in-the-headlights, which was odd because normally he’s quite brash in a fantastic way. I was surprised by the continued non-conversation.
After a very long pause she pretty much just turned and went back in his bedroom without another word. No goodbye or anything. I didn’t see her again for the rest of the time I was there.
We played three or four games, during which he must’ve lost his mind - he invited me to stay for lunch and to go to the beach with them after. (Black’s Beach – which is clothing optional. Because that wouldn’t make things more uncomfortable AT ALL. That is the impetuous guy I’m familiar with, although I did not hear a true teasing challenge in his voice like normal. Maybe it just lacked the flirty part. He sounded tired. Maybe he didn’t sleep well. Who knows.)
Ya know, he has the most powerful motorcycle on the market and he likes to get all dangerously fast on it, but I wasn’t taking his DEATH WISH so seriously.
On the way home, my Ego was really having a field day of evil thoughts about what I could’ve said.
“Oh, nice to meet you – you’re not nearly as fat as he described.”
“Oh, nice to meet you - do you mind if I come up and get my toothbrush? I left it in his bathroom.” (True fact.)
“Oh, nice to meet you – do you have trouble with the cats laying on you all night too?”
I know I sound psycho, but I'm much meaner in my head than I ever would be in the real world. The chances of me expressing those thoughts unless seriously provoked was nonexistant. Just the fact that I went to his house was out of the norm for me. I am usually the mouse. But like I said, I don’t regret it a bit.
Anyway, reviewing her non-response I can see why he may think that she was simply avoiding confronting me. However, I also have intimate knowledge of the nature of women and even those that are demure and keep their mouths shut are usually seething underneath, so I’m equally as sure that even if she never did show her anger, it wasn’t like it didn’t exist.
But again, perhaps that’s just me. My experience with this type of confrontation has always been angry, so I acknowledge that may be the sole reason I felt all that. Our worlds really do only happen in our own heads afterall, which is why everyone has a different experience of the same event.
I’m glad I gathered the guts to go, even if it was for the wrong reasons and creates entries on my karmic record. I figure at the very least, if a big dose of reality is getting spread around, I’m sure as hell not going to be the only one without a knife. One of these days I hope to evolve tho and not get into or feel this kind of pain over such silly emotional matters.
If you make a comment, please don't "take sides."
Soundtrack: Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne

Friday, March 27, 2009

What Is Is Not Negotiable

(Written yesterday, Thursday)

One of our chinchillas, Hopi, has been chewing her foot to the point of bleeding the last week or so. Every morning it looks like someone has been murdered in her cage and I wipe down the shelves again. This has happened before and I’ve had her to multiple doctors who all give me the same conclusion: there is nothing they can do because they can’t define what’s causing her behavior. It would be so much easier if chinchillas spoke English.

There have been blood tests and scrape tests, pokes and prods and several veterinary Mercedes payments thrown at this issue, but no answers. Hopi was a rescue so her medical history before the 6+ years she’s been in my care is a mystery. We don’t even know how old she is. Sometimes the Universe is just like “Here is your lesson in Acceptance. There is no textbook; you get no explanations. Pop quiz coming up soon. Good luck and Happy Thursday.”

ARRRRGGGG.

My best guess for her Emo attitude (definition: despondent outlook and erratic penchant for self-mutilation) is a chain reaction of lack of attention and diet imbalance causing depression. (And that goes for humans too.) It seems like if she has too many treats and/or not enough scratching behind the ears, that’s when the trouble starts. Normally a couple days with more focused love and less goodies fixes the problem, but this time her conduct has continued despite my efforts. This morning I noticed her food bowl was untouched and the hay dish barely sifted through. Altho she still hopped to the door when I opened it, not eating is a very, very bad sign. Even though I wouldn’t trade my time with my animals for anything, this is definitely the crappier part of having pets.

So I’m standing at the sink putting dishes in the dishwasher, thinking about how I’m going to have to tell Katy that we have yet another fuzzy rat possibly gearing up to transcend into her next form. I’m already hearing the drama and distress in my head from the other end of a phone call not yet made (nevermind my own despondency).

This kind of thing tends to trigger my shittier, child-like emotions about parenthood until one stubborn thought pushes all else out of my head: IT’S NOT FAIR IT’S NOT FAIR IT’S NOT FAIR.

In an effort to bring order back to the courtroom of my brain, my Higher Self bangs a gavel on my third eye and rises above the din saying, “How did we end up here again? What about it is not fair?”

Ego whines: “It’s not fair I always have to be the bad guy. As a single parent, I never get to be the good guy. If there’s bad news, I have to deliver it. If the kid is doing something wrong, I have to correct the mistakes. I’m the one to dispatch punishment for undesirable behavior and remind her what is the more acceptable path. I am the nag, the critic, the police, the pain in her ass (literally when she was younger) and the executioner. No one shares that burden with me – it’s all me, all the time. I NEVER get to be the good guy!”

(I submit as Exhibit A all the “I” and “me” statements in that complaint. Give it enough rope, and Ego will always hang itself. Higher Self just rolls its eyes.)

Logical Left Brain is on defense and reminds me, “Yeah, but it’s not like there’s never good news, or compliments to offer, or moments when you think your heart will bust open with pride over her accomplishments. Besides, even Katy says you’re the cool mom and all her friends think so too. You get to enjoy all that, and that’s when you get to be the good guy.”

All parts of The Brain nod in agreement that parenting is not always bad, however, Ego’s not ready to give up yet.

“Yeah, I’m the cool mom when things are GOOD. Why doesn’t someone else go tell her when pets are dying and deal with the tears? Whose shoulder do I get to cry on? Even though joyful times are sweet on their own, joy is doubled when shared with someone who has an equal level of investment and interest in the child, just as they say a burden is halved when shared. I never got to experience those higher levels of happiness as a parent because there was no one to share the joy with, so it’s not doubled, yet I still bear the entire responsibility of all the icky emotions. In my calculations, I got half the joy and double the burden of a regular two-parent system.”

(Which proves that my general suckiness at numbers and math extends to emotional arithmetic as well.)

Ego continues, “Just once (ok, maybe a lot) I would’ve liked to be the one Katy ran to saying ‘I did this bad thing that wasn’t really that awful and Dad says I’m grounded’ and I could be the hero and make it better. Instead I just get to deliver bad news.”

“Two-parent systems require a consistent, united front so that kind of action would be unwise. You’re just being a baby about telling her.” says Left Brain.

“Why don’t you go get a tall glass of shut the fuck up?” says Ego as it starts to go down.

Left Brain sighs. “What about family? They share in the joys. Why doesn’t that double it?”

Ego is quickly becoming blurry, but it still sulks, “Family is great, but the relationship between two parents, whether they’re together or not, is different and deeper when it concerns a child they made together. Different kind of bond.”

Higher Self concedes that point to Ego. Even a blind squirrel finds a nut once in awhile.

“So what you’re really saying is you’ve never accepted having to do this alone. It is only in our imagination that we assume the level of happiness would be increased or different if there were a second parent involved.”

Ego finally gives in. “Yeah, ok, it just sucks to do this by myself.”

I am tired of trying to interpret the Laws of Being Human, especially since Universal Law trumps all that anyway, so the entire mess adjourns indefinitely once again.

Deep down I know neither Hopi dying nor telling Katy nor being a single parent is a matter of fairness, it’s just What Is. I also know even if What Is sucks, you can't change it; you can only change how you choose to react to it and how much time and attention you choose to give it. It's always about your choices. Hmmm. I guess that means the Universe's pop quizzes are all multiple choice. haha

~*~

On a happier note, I stopped at Moonlight Beach this morning and sat for 30 minutes communing with the Pacific, sending out love and happy vibes to everyone I could think of, and imagining what the Switchfoot BroAm will look like in June when the beach is filled with surfers and music fans. Switchfoot is my second most favorite band ever. Their music is very happy, their lyrics are awesome, and Jon's (the singer) voice is cooly unique. Listening to them always puts me in a good mood. If you haven't heard them, check 'em out. Definitely worth your time.

I am still so amazed and grateful every day that I get to live here. It's no wonder California is the most populated state. What a beautiful place to Be.

~*~

(Written today, Friday)

Ok, true to the nature of my existence, right after I posted this the Universe gave me TWO signs (just in case I wasn't awake yet since I haven't had coffee...).

The first one was a Google ad that appeared next to my own writing for a site called Peace, Love, and Momminess. I don't usually click the ads on my blog, I'm just checking for grammar/punctuation errors, but the graphics on this one caught my eye. I clicked to see what the site was about. The top story today? "More Gratitude, Less Attitude." haha Yes, yes, I know. I was working on that.

That phrase made me think of a site I often visit called Great Day by Ralph Marston. Mark turned me on to it. The site gives a daily positive message and somehow it always seems to pertain to what I'm thinking when I check it (I don't check it every day). Today's inspiration from Ralph:

Interconnected

Taking positive action in one area of your life can lead to surprising improvements in many other areas of your life. For you are one whole person, and anything you do makes a difference in everything you are.

It all matters and it all affects you. The life you experience is the sum of every thought, every word spoken, every gesture and every effort.

If you find it difficult to be positive about one particular area of your life, then be extraordinarily positive about other areas of your life. That additional positive energy will spill over into all of your world.

All the parts of your life are interconnected in ways that it's difficult to even imagine. The result is that there are always plenty of opportunities for taking positive steps.

For even when you feel completely blocked in one area, there are many other areas of your life in which you can quickly and easily make improvements. Success and achievement feel great in whatever venue they occur.

Feel genuinely positive, even if it's just about one little thing. And the energy radiates through the entirety of your world.

I was already headed that direction, but thanks for the push Eternity. :D

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

The Evils of Being Awake

I just got finished filling out yet another profile to yet another site I want to be able to post comments on. In the profile it asks you to list your likes and dislikes. For likes I put Cognitive Awareness. For dislikes I put Willful Ignorance.

I then realized I'd had more coffee than food today, which could explain the nervous difficulty of my fingers constantly jumping on the wrong parts of the keyboard, so I went downstairs to make some lunch. While in the kitchen, Haagen Dazs sung its evil siren song to me from the freezer. I don't even know how I hear it when the bottom half of the frig is the only part open. I think it has special Godly powers to transcend the door seals.

Ice cream is a beautiful thing, and as many of you know, I harbor an enduring devotion to coffee in any form as well. If left to my own devices, I would worship at the Church of The Bean day and night. Therefore, in the World of Trayce, coffee ice cream is very much considered the marriage of perfect foods. Haagen Dazs Coffee Ice Cream is like the heavenly appeal of Brangelina - so much pretty in one place, you can't help but imagine the taste. (Uh, yeah, that's not what I meant. Get your mind out of the gutter.)

Unfortunately my particular biochemical composition does not like to play in a polyamorous relationship with coffee, ice cream, or any combination thereof. My Body often reminds me of its zero-tolerance policy for sugary edibles by sending all unapproved substances back out through my skin. My Mind chimes in by circulating a Guilt Memo among the neurons. Ego tells them both to piss off, then sulks in the corner promising to behave better next time while I apply extra makeup to hide my transgressions.

As I was spooning delicious illicitness into my mouth like a drunk sucking down cheap wine (before eating the much-healthier-sandwich I might add), I witnessed through my window one of my neighbors towing a defunct Jeep back to his garage (poor thing! The Jeep, not the neighbor) with just a rope between the vehicles. The Jeep stopped short a couple times with a screech of tires, barely avoiding the rear bumper of the truck ahead.

This is the same neighbor that was offended that my mother wanted to move her car to avoid it being hit while he was trying to unsuccessfully back a boat into his garage, subsequently hitting the corner of a building next door which caused significant damage to both truck and edifice. As far as I know he never reported it to anyone, least of all the owners of the end unit he hit.

My God-What-An-Idiot-He-Should-Know-Better Attitude bristled up and proclaimed, "This is exactly the kind of Willful Ignorance I can't stand. It's no wonder he has a McCain sticker on the back window."

Almost immediately the Cosmos reached down to tap my shoulder, looked me in the third eye, and said, "Hey, Miss I Dislike Willful Ignorance, are you enjoying that ice cream?"

Monday, October 06, 2008

Social Distortion

Warning: this could be a very uncomfortable and strange entry for any family members or close friends to read, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.

I met some of the most interesting people last night at a party I wasn’t sure I wanted to attend, but now I’m glad I did. That’s what I get for having expectations. When will I learn? At least this twist of my presumptions was on the positive side.

My hands have that tingling going on as I’m trying to sort out my thoughts and type this. It’s the weirdest sensation – I usually only feel it in the center of my palms, but once in awhile an area around the middle of my chest gets involved (some would probably call it a chakra, blah blah – those new agey terms are so abused I’m loathe to use them). It’s not an itch but an intense sort of tension, like a forced awareness of every individual nerve ending. Sometimes it’s so strong it’s almost painful. I’ve tried every keyword I can think of to search out answers for why it happens, but no luck, so I have to chalk it up to dimensional energy I don’t understand yet. The hands are channels after all. I take it to be a good thing. But I digress.

A couple of the people I met inadvertently got me thinking about tantra (no, nothing funky was going on at this party – it’s just my own train of thoughts that led me here) so I spent a lot of time cruising the net reading up on it today. When I first met Mark 11 years ago he introduced me to the concept but we never really followed through (or so I thought), then after awhile circumstances in our relationship caused me to totally lose interest in all related things and it was shoved roughly a light year away, to a distant back burner galaxy in my brain. Funny how these things snap back - like a cosmic rubberband - at the speed of light, swatting your third eye hard enough to wake you from unawareness.

The more I read, the more I’m wondering if I’ve ever experienced anything NOT tantric when playing in that particular arena. (Not that I presume to know rituals and techniques, having never been taught, but from what I’ve read, I would be a quick study I’ll bet.) Most things they describe on the net I already do instinctively, and it’s not like I know anything special or read much about it, I’ve just always done it that way because it seemed like that’s how it should be.

My first time out I distinctly remember telling the guy to slow down, stop, let me feel this for a minute. He was like, “You want me to do what? Why?!” I didn’t know why other than it was just what I liked. At least he complied. I felt like I was directing a movie trying to tell him what to do and when (like I even knew what I was saying!) and observe what I felt all at once. Overall it was a good experience with someone I cared a lot about and I’m grateful for that. Everyone’s first time should be like that. Perhaps his patience and indulgence was an even greater benefit than I knew because ever since I’ve never been afraid to express what I like, and certainly I can’t recall any bad results.

But reading all this leaves me wondering: If that’s not the norm, then what is? Something that resembles porn? Gods, I hope not. Where is the love in that? Maybe this is why I’ve never understood people’s fascination with adult videos. I can’t imagine ever wanting to do it like that (with a few off-the-hook-hormone exceptions). I don’t care what noises the people are making, I can tell you most of it is fake, and it doesn’t even look like it feels good. (The bad acting is another story all together.)

One thing I don’t understand about tantra is the ritualistic nature of it. All this lighting of sage and preparing this and breathing like that before you even touch each other… seems a little hokey. (Except I see where breathing certain ways at certain times can improve feeling, but sitting across from each other, staring at each other trying to breathe in sync without yawning? Sounds totally boring to me. What is the purpose of that?) I probably don’t know what I’m talking about, having only read what I found online. Or it could be I’m just too impatient, which is probably something they insist you master to “do it right.” Discipline has never been my strong point, but if you ask me, discipline in this area sounds more like work than fun. I dunno. Like I said, I’m no expert, but some things they describe just sound like common sense, and if that’s not how everyone does it, well that explains a lot.

Maybe I’m just a hands-on kinda gal. By all means, set a mood with candles and music and whatever, and there’s a lot to be said for flirting and teasing and building the tension, but I always thought things were more enjoyable when you’re so in touch with your partner’s thoughts and emotions that when you get down to it, you’re wanting to do the same things at the same time anyway and there’s very little need for speaking or “rituals” like I was reading about. Then again, Mark has been the only one in that part of my life for so long, maybe I’m remembering prior experiences incorrectly. Who knows.

Maybe I’m just resisting anything remotely related to a religion that tells me “it must be done this way or else you’re not doing it right.” That’s never sat well with me. There are infinite threads of truth that weave our existence.

OMG – the Cosmos is so damn funny. My email just dinged so I check it and it’s a monthly new agey type ezine I get (unsolicited I might add) called SpiritSide. On the front page is “A Healthy Approach to Shameless Intimacy – Tantra!” I love when the Gods flirt with me.

Well anyway, this is not a subject I want to blog about in depth, but it’s what I was thinking about today. For anyone that doesn’t know what tantra is, please do yourself a favor and at least Google it or buy a book to investigate the general principles.

It could be the answer you’re looking for. ;)

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Being Grateful to Breathe Freely

I had to wait in line for almost 20 minutes to put gas in the tank today. At first I was annoyed because I had groceries in the car that weren't getting any fresher, and who wants to spend a beautiful day waiting to fill Big Oil's pockets with blood money? But the orange sharpie marker on my arm reminded me to "Breathe freely" (a new fav mantra that came to me last night as I was falling asleep) so I opened the sunroof and turned off the car to extinguish pollution from both air and mind.

I started by thinking about how grateful I was to again live less than a mile from the cheapest gas station in the area (hence, the lines - I also had this blessing in New Jersey), and that I managed to so easily manifest the money I needed so I could be there.

I also admitted that I was overreacting for my own convenience on the issue of getting the perishables into colder regions, and I was thankful that I was not truly pressed for time.

I then reminded my Self that everything happens for a reason, so maybe the delay had purposes I was unaware of.

When I leaned my head back to gaze through the sunroof, I noticed a beautiful hawk (or perhaps one of our resident golden eagles, I still have a hard time telling which is which) playing in the air currents above. Normally I see them over the field across the street from my house because it is a veritable buffet of tasty raptor snacks. Not sure what this one was looking for over the gas station unless he'd become addicted to stray fries in the McDonalds' dumpsters next door.

My feathered friends are one thing that makes Bonsall really awesome to live in. We have many large birds soaring around and I've often had the opportunity to watch them at length. The more I do, the easier it becomes to lose myself so completely in their flight that I can feel the waves and dips in the breeze as it sweeps over their wings and carries them aloft. Today was just like that. It was so nice (and easy) to rise above my negative thoughts, and I'm grateful to Great Spirit for giving my attention a better focus.

I'm also idly wondering now if gas stations breed negativity because the corporations behind them are doing such awful things to our planet. And now many of them (at least here in CA) have the balls to put TVs at the pumps and try to fill your brain with more blather and pre-programmed propaganda while you fill your tank. Not to mention the "convenience" stores carry such crap food and drink... but that's another post I suppose.

~*~

This manifestation of money over the weekend has been interesting. Katy and her bf (we'll call him E) finally made it out here this past Thursday. I'm amazed but grateful my trusty old Camaro made it all the way across country without even blinking. I should've had more faith in a Chevy.

The kids have definitely been having fun on the way as this trip has also served as a vacation for E. A well-deserved one I imagine after living with my overly-dependent daughter for four months. I've been struggling just to meet my bills on the salary from my job, so I was very worried about how I was going to afford doing anything fun with them while E was here. (He leaves Monday to go back East.)

The first challenge came up when E decided he wanted to see the Padres play at Petco Park since they're at home this weekend. My stubborn Irish pride was not about to let him pay for me, who is almost 40 and should certainly have enough funds by this time to not only pay for herself but the kids too. I mean cripes, I may not look my age (which I'm infinitely grateful for) but I should at least be able to act it. (Once in awhile. :)

I've seen people advertise free tickets at the last minute on craigslist before, so I decided I was going to ask the Universe for help. I posted in the Items Wanted section asking if anyone had four tickets that they weren't using to any of the games this weekend. I know this happens all the time, and the Padres are already out of the playoffs, plus they were playing the Pirates, who are in last place. Not something you would call "a big game." I had two responses within an hour. The first one was bogus, but the second one was legit. The tix were for that night's game, so I called the kids to tell them to come back from the beach while I emailed the lady to make arrangements to pick up the tix. I am so infinitely grateful to her and told her so several times. (I feel like I'm abusing the crap out of the word grateful in this post - there should be more than three words in the thesaurus to express gratitude dammit!)

Now I had to figure out how to get enough cash for gas and whatever else might come up. I remembered I still have a second computer monitor we're no longer using, so I quick took some pics of it and stuck it on eBay with every related keyword I could think of in the coding. Normally these things take a few days to sell, so I knew it was a long shot. I priced it above the going rate but with free shipping and I'll be damned if it didn't sell within the hour. I was surprised and not (and OMG was I grateful!) at the same time. Since I make all my Buy It Now auctions the kind where you have to pay immediately, I then had enough cash to be comfortable for at least that night.

We went to the game, I got to see my new friend again (we'll call him K) since he lives downtown near the stadium, and we all had a great time. K wanted to show us around the Gaslamp District (a section of downtown that's been revitalized with tons of restaurants and clubs), but Katy and E were wiped out from their day at the beach. We headed home, but agreed to meet today instead.

Of course, going down there again meant I had to come up with more funds, so last night when we got home I put something else on eBay, and damn if that didn't sell by morning too. How awesome is the Universe for helping out like this?

The kids ended up being super lazy today though and weren't ready to go anywhere until after 7pm. (And people think I'M bad about taking an hour to get ready! HA!) I wasn't going to encourage them to leave earlier because the more they're happy being at home, the less money we're spending. Unfortunately tho, by the time we left I couldn't get hold of K, so we were on our own tonight. We managed to walk the entire Gaslamp District anyway and had a nice dinner at an out of the way pub. It was a good time and I loved just roaming around observing all that was going on. Also found the House of Blues, which was good for future reference since there are several musicians I like that often make that their stop in SD, and Dick's Last Resort, which is a restaurant I've always wanted to check out.

Incidentally, one of my observations was that San Diego women really dress to the nines to go clubbing. There were so many stiletto heels and short skirts on little black dresses that Mark probably would've dropped over from sheer testosterone overload. (That's something I really miss about him - being able to discuss how hot people are and not feel like a total lesbian if the hot person happens to be a girl. I truly have no interest in girls [and he has no interest in guys], but we both appreciate pretty things no matter which gender they are. Too bad most pretty things totally ruin the image as soon as they open their mouths.)

The clothes (or lack of) are what really got me though. I had to stop and think, "Damn, did I dress that slutty when I was that age?" And Ego was totally like, "Honey, you were ALL OVER THAT." (I remember the first time I met Mark I was wearing a red dress and black stockings with 4 inch heels and my father said I looked like a whore before I left. At the time I was pretty hurt and defensive, but now I'm thinking he may have been right. Mark didn't mind tho.) I got all my clubbing/drinking/"whoring" done before I had Katy at age 20, so I was actually younger than most of these girls (in years anyway) when I was dressing that way. Thank God for fake IDs.

So anyway, the Gaslamp District rocks even tho I had to walk around with my hands in my pockets instead of holding someone else's. I was thankful I no longer have the peer pressure to freeze my ass off in a skirt and heels; my jeans and Chucks were never so appreciated.

Best of all, when I got home, I had email from two people answering ads for things I've had on craigslist for a week, so now, not only am I covered for this time with the kids, but I've managed to cover the overdue phone bill as well. Go me.

Breathe freely. Have patience. All I am seeking is seeking me.

It's worked so perfectly since I've lived here it's like I've been given the gift of magic.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

A Quirk of the Network

This morning I woke up about 10am. I lay there thinking for awhile – or rather, trying not to think and not succeeding - then I woke up again at 11:30. Then “I” had a two-hour board meeting with Ego since meditating was putting me to sleep. Is being entertained by your own thoughts for literally hours at a time normal?

Ego aired all its grievances, protests, arguments, and drama in the matter of Me vs. The Recent Past, and “I” listened intently, but the only response “I” could come up with to each diatribe was a big fat “WHATEVER.” When Ego finally ran out of things to bitch about, “I” asked, “Are we done now?” And I think we are.

Perspective is so valuable but easily lost in the pockets of our brain. Sometimes I wonder if Ego even steals it and hides it on purpose.

After that I picked up the Tolle book (New Earth) that I still haven’t finished (it’s taking me months to read because I keep reading other things in between) and damn if the next three chapters weren’t all about exactly what I just did. Well it’s always nice to have validation.

As Jason suggested to the audience last night, we spend too much time in our minds. I know it's true, I even knew it the past few days, but sometimes it's hard to step outside your own drama. Like looking for the doorknob in the dark. I will stop worrying about being cool and just go have fun.

So, um… moving on…

The Beginner's Mind

Last night I went to the runes to try to make some sense of where I'm at. I pulled Inguz, which is actually one of my favorites not only because of the description but also because it looks cool. The book says this about it:

This Rune is akin to the moon, the intuitive part of our nature, with its urge toward harmonizing and adjusting in the sphere of personal relationships. Inguz embodies the need to share, the yearning to be desired, a search after similarities.

The completion of beginnings is what Inguz requires. It may mark a time of joyous deliverance, of new life, a new path. A Rune of great power, drawing it means that you now have the strength to achieve completion, resolution, from which comes a new beginning. Above all, completion is crucial here. It may be timely that you complete some project now; if so, make that your first priority. Perhaps a difficult state of mind can be resolved, clarified, turned around. The appearance of this Rune indicates that you must fertilize the ground for your own deliverance.

Inguz signals your emergence from a closed, chrysalis state. All things change and we cannot live permanently amid obstructions. As you resolve and clear away the old, you will experience a release from tension and uncertainty.

You may be required to free yourself from a rut, habit, or relationship; from some deep cultural pattern, some activity that was quite proper to the self you are leaving behind. The period at or just before birth is often a dangerous one. Movement involves danger, yet movement that is timely leads out of danger. Now it is time to enter the delivery room.

Another of the Cycle Runes, Inguz counsels preparation. Being centered and grounded, freeing yourself from all unwanted influences, and seeing the humor, you are indeed prepared to open yourself to the Will of Heaven, and can await your deliverance with calm certainty.

As always, the runes are spot on. How do they do that? Freaky shit. (That song by Pilot is running through my head... Oh oh oh it's magic... you know... never believe it's not so...)

I saw Jason Mraz play at Morongo Casino in Cabazon tonight. He always puts on an entertaining gig, but I got the idea this may have been a "practice" show for his upcoming weeks in Europe. He's recently been on vacation for three weeks, so I wouldn't be surprised if they needed something small to get back in the groove (small in his case = about 2000 people!). I'll never get tired of hearing the man sing, but I had a hard time staying present tonight. I dunno if it was because my seat was farther back than normal, or maybe I was just spoiled since I got to see him last weekend in the more intimate setting of Mueller College when his friend Bushwalla played with Dawn Mitschele.

They did have a couple surprises: they reworked Clockwatching from the Mr. A-Z CD (very interesting with a reggae beat), and he had the gospel group, Voices of Prayz, with him. Not sure if they'll be on the whole tour, but it was great hearing Live High with the proper choir behind it. I wasn't crazy about the other Jesus-y gospel tune they covered, but then I've never been a big fan of anything related to church. He covered the Steely Dan song Peg in the encore, which was way cool. I'd seen a YouTube version of it from another show, but hearing it live was much better. He still has the Grooveline Horns with him too. Those guys are so awesome - they add a new dimension to the show. In the dictionary next to "groovy" you'll find their picture. I dunno how they manage to fit so many people on stage, but it looks fantastic and I even heard people behind me as I was walking out saying, "That was worth every fucking penny!" That totally made me smile.

Between the show tonight and reading the description for Inguz, it made me think about Jason's tattoo that says "beginner." Shortly after getting the tat, he posted a pic of it on his blog and explained his thoughts about the zen saying The beginner's mind is a beautiful place to come from. That phrase has stuck with me, especially since moving to San Diego and having to find everything for the first time in a new city. I got curious about when his first post on blogspot was because I know it's been a long time. A quick search revealed it was almost a year ago today (9/11 actually) that he moved his blog to these waters. And oddly, his first post was the very one I was thinking about. I hadn't remembered that. :)

So a beginner I am as well - pure potential - and I will keep in mind that it's a beautiful place to come from, even if it's feeling kinda crappy right now.

...just when the caterpillar thought life was over, it turned into a Butterfly.


From my backyard

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Note to Self: Shut the Fuck Up

This is why I don’t talk to any of my ex boyfriends (save one from high school, but that reconnection was in a far different space, long after the wounds had healed). I don’t know if my problem is an ego temper tantrum, or just emotions, or some physical disentanglement of matter and particles, but fuck man, ending an 11-year relationship can really inflict some pain.
The following thoughts may be extremely disjointed so if you can’t keep up, don’t feel bad. My head sometimes rivals the mountains for twisty turns and back asswards roads, and getting lost is easy. Too bad there’s no Google Maps for my thoughts. (How cool would a satellite picture of your thoughts be?)
John and I went to dinner and then for a walk on the beach the other night. It was the first time we’d met and it was not a romantic date (or intended to be). Something he said stuck in my head. I don’t even remember what the subject was but he stops me mid-sentence and says, “That’s the second time you’ve said you’re leaving. Didn’t you just get here?”
Well yes, I did. I’ve been in San Diego three months. I know I’ll probably be here several years – a decade seems to be my average in a place. It used to be that I wanted to live in the same place forever because I was annoyed with how I was moved all over the country as a child. But even after it was my own decision where to live, circumstances kept me mobile. In my new adult naiveté, I decided instead of resisting the changes, I would embrace them and assume that wherever I moved to would not be the last place/time, so get happy with it or die trying. Hence, I accept the knowledge that even tho I just got here, I may not be here forever. I didn’t intend for that to be reflected so prominently in my speech tho. That can’t be good – certainly, it doesn’t portend living in the Now as I strive to do.
It has also crossed my mind that now that I’ve embraced my gypsy gene, the Universe will probably fuck with me and I’ll never leave this area. It would totally be par for the course. I’m just trying to be okay with whatever comes my way.
So anyway, when Mark asked me to move out, one of the reasons he cited was my inability to stay put (despite the fact that I’d lived in NJ 11 years). He said he couldn’t live with always wondering when I might finally scratch that itch to live elsewhere. The kid part of me that got dragged from school to school totally gets that, but the adult part of me that’s trying only to live in the moment was again annoyed. Sometimes it feels like I can do nothing right.
I want a fairy tale (which to me, includes the good and the not as good times). I want to feel like I could be with one man until the end of this lifetime and never want things to change. I’m a very monogamous person. I adore my comfort zone. I certainly felt that way with Mark the first several years of our relationship, but he was not in that space the same time I was.
I also want to be impeccable with my word. If I make a promise – especially of the heart - I want to be sure I can keep it. When Mark asked me to move in with him five years ago, the only reason I couldn’t promise to be there forever is because I KNOW the northeast is not my most favorite place, and I know how long forever is. Doesn’t mean it couldn’t have happened – maybe after Katy flew the coop, I could’ve traveled more and that would’ve satisfied my wanderlust. Maybe I would’ve found that travel wasn’t enough. Maybe I should’ve kept all that to myself, but then what kind of promise was I making? Seems like I fucked myself either way. Is honesty always the best policy?
The practical side of me wonders how anyone can feel good about making promises when they have no idea if they can keep them. Even if you are the type to generally stay in one area your entire life, how can you possibly promise to be there forever? As the commercial says: Life comes at you fast. Forever is a very long time. If you have kids, you know how long forever is. Or look at the divorce rate and you’ll see that even the best intentions don’t always last long enough to meet forever. (Once you think you get the “forever” thing, try wrapping your head around the concept of infinity. That’s really what forever is, but for purposes of this blog, forever will just mean to the end of this lifetime.)
I’m so unsure what to do about that. I don’t want to make the same mistake in the future, but I need to be honest. I mean seriously, Mark’s got a point – how can I ever commit to a relationship fully if I think – no, expect – that someday I’ll want to move? Yet I want that kind of committed connection. The only way it would work is if the person I’m with is the same way, then it’s a matter of deciding whose choice of places we’ll live in next (and when).
Ok, so that math makes my brain hurt, but here’s what killed me.
When I left, Mark and I decided to hold our relationship in limbo. We both understood that we were no longer exclusive so if something came up, we were free to pursue it. We also commiserated that neither one of us was of a mind to seek out someone new. We decided if circumstances offered an opportunity to be together temporarily, neither of us would feel weird about taking advantage. Most people call this “friends with benefits” but in our case it’s more like an IPO (“I Put Out”? haha) with stock options since the dividends only paid out once or twice a year.
Surprisingly (or not, if I think about how our relationship started), it only took him a month or so for something to come up. My out of control Ego whispers to me “Probably not even a month! It must’ve been killing him that you took so long to leave!” which may not be fair, but it’s how I feel on my less mature days. Then Left Brain looks over its glasses at Ego and says, “Oh please. Go to your room.” So Ego stalks off to its brain cell muttering, “Well it wouldn’t be the FIRST time.”
I’ve been trying to keep Ego in time out and sort through all these emotions that ride along with letting go. I know it’s necessary. I know it’s probably best. I know if this is how it is, then we were not meant to be together and I have to accept that. I am just pushed out of my comfort zone is all. I’ll get over it. I cling to the words of Eckhart Tolle (as much as his visage creeps me out) that “whatever experience I’m having right now is the one I need to be having.” Great, but does this thing go any faster? Cuz seriously, I’ve got the pedal to the floor and I feel like I’m crawling.
I don’t begrudge Mark happiness, or new feelings for someone else, or whatever those may turn into. But it adds a degree of difficulty when what came up is one of your own friends, especially one that recently left her boyfriend. Ego totally busts out of the chair at that point shouting all kinds of ideas about how long this has really been going on (again, especially knowing Mark’s & my history), what point it may or may not be at now (like that really matters?), and how little respect that shows, not only from Mark, but also from my friend (but I, of all people, know there is something afoot beyond conscious choice of who you end up having feelings for). Am I that easily replaced tho?
Even though I’ve managed to stuff Ego back into Pandora’s box and lock that shit up, I’m still left to decide how I choose to react to the situation. And Ego’s muffled cries are not entirely unheard. Ignoring any part of Self and leaving emotions unresolved is the cloth dis-ease is woven from, and I don’t want that (witness the sinus infection – let’s not keep going there!). But I’m not a baby or a psychotic bitch either. Sometimes I wish I was because this would probably sort itself out faster.
I’ve tried to remain friends with both of them. We’ve all talked on the phone (not at the same time), but I don’t trust that I’m getting the entire story. Mark has continued entertaining flirtations and sexual innuendo when we converse on IM. I played along until today when it was made clear that I was mistaken in thinking our friendly IPO still had stock options. Ouch. Especially coming from someone who is known for his polyamorous ideas. Now I feel doubly stupid.
I just want to let go of the process. Of ALL of it. Change your mind, change your life. In the daily existence I define as “normal,” I do believe it’s that easy. But this isn’t normal. And is that really resolving anything? Is it easier or harder to rip this bandaid off all at once? (Unfortunately, as a kid I was never the rip it off kind.)
This is one time I don’t want to live in the Now. I want to leave tomorrow in the sparkly dust from my pumpkin carriage’s wheels.
Do you think Cinderella ever had to deal with this shit before Prince Charming came along? I know how long forever is... how long is Happily Ever After?