The Bunny With Cookies

I keep forgetting today was Easter. The age of egg hunts and bunny baskets has passed for Katy so the holiday doesn't mean much to either of us anymore. My closest family is down near Philly, Mark went to his sister's house, and I took Katy to the airport to go to my mother's in New Mexico for Spring Break, then I came back and finished some work from Friday. Exciting. (Edit to add: I ate way too many Girl Scout cookies while writing this entry - does that count as celebration?)

The best Easter I ever had happened when I lived in Arizona. I think Katy was probably 6 or 7. For whatever reason I decided not to drive out to my grandmother's house that weekend. (She always cooks a big dinner on "major" holidays even though none of us are Christian.) Instead, Katy and I went to a Native American Pow-wow (not our first, and definitely not our last). As I sat in the Great Circle watching the hoop dancers in all their feathers and finery, I remember being truly present in the moment, and thinking how even though I love spending time with my family, it was so much more appropriate for us to be there that day, celebrating Life in general with these strangers whom I admire so greatly. If you've ever had a moment of complete clarity like that, where you feel so peacefully connected to everyone and everything, you know what I'm talking about.

I hope the ease with which those moments used to come to me will return when we live in San Diego. Not to say I haven't had any here in NJ, but it definitely comes easier to me on the western edge of our island. I've started letting go of the furniture to get there.

~*~

The We Inside of Me

If you have 20 minutes to spare, use it to watch this video. It is a most amazing story about (and by) Jill Bolte Taylor, a brain scientist who witnessed her own stroke and came away with a spiritual experience that obviously changed her life.

My Stroke of Insight

It's especially cool to understand the science of right brain vs. left brain functions, and connect that to our perception of the world around us.

I love at the end when she says: Which would you choose? Which DO you choose? You'll have to watch to understand.

~*~

What about taking this empty cup and filling it up
With a little bit more of some innocence
I haven't had enough; it's probably because
When you're young, it's ok to be easily ignored
I'd like to believe it was all about love for a child...

Mraz has this new song, Love for a Child. It's not released yet really (will be on the CD coming out May 13), but it got leaked on YouTube. He says he wrote it for his "very divorced parents" and I'll tell you what - there are not many songs that make me want to cry, but the chorus of this tune hits home a little too hard.

My parents have been divorced since I was 3, and only speak to each other if there is no other alternative. I have no memories of them being together, and when they're in each other's presence they act like business associates. It's hard to believe they were ever in love, and if my stepmother is witness to their meeting it's hard to remember Love exists at all.

Was it Mom who put my Dad out on his ass
Or the other way around
Well I'm far too old to care about that now...

My mother left my father; she wanted to finish her college education but Dad wanted her to be a stereotype stay-at-home mom. I don't think my mother had a cell in her body (at the time) that would allow her to be happy doing that. They both remarried, but only my Dad's marriage has survived (30+ long years, but at least this time he married exactly what he was looking for). My stepmother and I have reached a tentative peace just in the last decade.

My mother cut her second husband out of our lives so completely after he divorced her I probably wouldn't know him if I tripped over him now. I don't harbor any ill will in his case, but only because I can't remember much about the time he was in our lives. His mother, Fran (whom I considered one of my grandmothers), actually made a bigger impression on me. She looked like Queen Elizabeth and had manners to match. :) She was a very proper lady. Maybe it came from being Canadian. She did not put on airs, airs would be lucky to put on her, but in the kindest way possible. Now that I'm thinking about it, I'll bet she's the reason I love having tea. I have a vague recollection of having tea with her in the afternoons. Unless that's one of those things I made up until I believed it. :shakes head: No, I'm pretty sure that happened because I remember her collection of tea cups (they were lovely) and not being allowed to play with them. Hmmm. (My mother just confirmed it on the phone, that tea with Fran is a valid memory. Yay, I'm not insane.)

All my childhood memories are so misplaced in time it feels like every story I know about my younger years happened when I was 12. I'm often surprised what age my family claims I was when I'm recounting an event. I surely didn't feel that young when it happened.

Growing up with a single mother and minimal involvement from my father made me precocious in many ways. When you have to fend for yourself a lot, I guess you take in knowledge at a faster pace in order to survive, thus gaining more skills than the average bear. It can produce some nasty side effects though. I don't need a shrink to tell me that a good part of the control freak in me was developed from having no control over what happened with my parents (especially my stepmother), combined with a lot of time alone (and precious little control over that) because Mom was busy trying to make ends meet, and Dad stuck so rigidly to the court-appointed visitation times you'd think he was brainwashed to believe that was the only time I existed on the planet.

It's kind of nice to work the floor since the divorce
I've been enjoying both my Christmases and my birthday cakes
And taking drugs, and making love at far too young an age
But they never checked to see my grades
What a fool I'd be to start complaining now...

My birthday is five days after Christmas, so while I smiled at this part of the song because it's true children of divorce often get to celebrate things twice, the proximity of these two events in time sometimes cheated me out of the only positive result of my parents' split (from a child's point of view).

I forgave my parents long ago, but the scars etched in my history pushed me forward beyond my years. At age 19, just when I was about to get over my lack of childhood and maybe regain some footing on a different kind of immaturity, I had a child of my own and any innocence I may have hoped to enjoy disappeared. Maybe that's why my 30th birthday didn't bother me at all. I feel like I've been two ages so far in my lifetime: 12 and 30. Once in awhile a random fairy godmother makes me 21, but the feeling never lasts more than a few hours. I can only wonder what age I'll feel consistently next. Probably "retired." :rolls eyes:

I hope what they say about Capricorns living backwards (being serious in youth, and youthful in old age), is true because that means there is still hope of filling up my own empty cup with the star dust of so many innocent wishes. That would be brilliant. In the meantime, I'll just keep searching for the steady beat of peace and love and security - those moments of clarity that make Life wonderful.

~*~

We saw Horton Hears a Who last night at the theater. I've always loved Dr. Seuss, but my favorite book was One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. I don't remember reading Horton too often. I was surprised at the bold stab this movie takes at group-think religion, but I like the message it conveys of "exercise tolerance and respect, but don't stop questioning." Yay for teaching kids HOW to think instead of WHAT to think! I also appreciated the more obvious communication that just because you can't see or touch something doesn't mean it doesn't exist.

I have to make a trip to B&N now and refresh my memory of how the book actually goes because I don't remember Seuss making such a stand on controversial points. Perhaps it just flew over my head. The movie is worth seeing though, IMHO, so grab your kids or nieces and nephews (or go with adults, because you really don't need kids to justify wanting to see an animated movie) and escape for a couple hours this week. It does use passages from the book, but they don't rhyme the entire dialog.

Jim Carey and Steve Carrel are just awesome as Horton and The Mayor of Whoville, respectively. You can just see their faces in your mind's eye as their comedy makes you smile. Worth the price of the ticket! (The title of this entry will take on new dimensions as well.)

Green Day

In honor of St. Party's Day, do yourself a favor and go buy some decent music to drink to:

http://www.tartanic.net

These guys are more fun than Paris Hilton and Lindsey Lohan's panties have seen in a half a decade. Book them for your next party. Trust me on this. You have no idea until you've experienced it.

God save the Queen!

~*~

Last night we watched the first part (and half of the second part) of the TV mini-series John Adams. It’s pretty good but I’ve had to stop and explain some things to Katy. We’re kind of funny watching this together because despite my interest in Renaissance Faires and Colonial Williamsburg I’ve always been historically-challenged (meaning I can’t remember shit about dates and people in history). Katy remembers the facts better than I do having been in school more recently, and I can explain the psychology behind the plot points and the subtle innuendos of the dialog, so between the two of us we’re able to figure out what’s going on if we stop it every so often and explain things to each other. It’s like the blind leading the blind. Good thing neither one of us is blonde or we’d be a couch cliché.

This mini-series caused a weird dream last night though. I guess it was actually this morning between the time when the alarm first went off and when I suddenly fully remembered that it was Monday and I had to go to work, causing me to bolt out of bed like a ball shot from one of their old-fashioned cannons. I hate when that happens.

Most of my dreams are experienced from a combination of first and third person. I see the scene as if I was watching a movie, but I feel the emotions and experience the action as if it was happening to me in real time, and I know things intrinsically. If only I could figure out how to do this in waking reality, I could claim my deification. (That word looks like defecation – probably because it’s all bullshit. Hahaha)

The scene was obviously inspired by the show we were watching – it was like looking at a colonial village of cookie-cutter houses all lined up at a distance, except there were wispy pirate ships hovering above each house with billowing sails illuminated by a golden color moonlight. Each ship was anchored to a chimney by rising smoke and they all looked pretty much the same, just like the houses did. I presumed at first the smoke came from a fire below, however, upon closer inspection (by flying in? teleporting? just knowing? I have no clue) I saw that the smoke was actually coming from the people sleeping in the houses, and I understood that it was dreams which were creating the hovering luminescent vessels. I thought it was weird that everyone would have the same dream.

Somehow my thoughts connected the ships to Peter Pan and I was back outside examining them a little closer. They seemed to be covered in a flowing, dark green chiffon material, which I observed should’ve been Hollywood-creepy, but wasn’t. I thought it was some kind of seaweed. I remember thinking in the dream that it was weird of me to think of Peter Pan because it’s not often that particular Disney movie comes to mind. As soon as I focused my thoughts on Peter Pan, he appeared, swooping around the top masts of the ships, trailing light like a comet, and that’s when I woke up like I’d been hit with lightning.

:shrug:

Weirder than the dream is this afternoon when I went to post the link to Tartanic above, and I saw that someone new had commented on my blog (thanks Diana!). I go to check out her blog and her last entry mentions Peter Pan.

:cue Twilight Zone music:

More iROny

Isn't it funny that we need something this big:

Large Hadron Collider at CERN

to find subatomic particles so small that we haven't been able to prove they exist yet? (Did you see the GUY standing in the middle of that thing? Look toward the middle bottom.)

Another question came to me last night when I couldn't stop my Monkey Mind from flinging poo long enough to get any sleep: If there are such strict rules about the disposal of bio-medical waste (picture those little red containers with the hazard symbol on them), why is it okay to give cremated human remains back to the family in an unsealed urn?

And how gross is it when people spread those ashes over some outside place and the wind catches them? The next time you leave your house, you could literally be breathing someone in, and not in a romantic, hot-breath-on-the-nape-of-your-neck kind of way. Ech.

~*~

Speaking of the smog of humanity, I finally updated my blog about our recent trip to LA/Hollywood to include pictures. Yay!

~*~

Oh yes, I promised a recounting of my weird dream.

In my dream I was in Tempe, Arizona driving along the Salt River (it was to my right). I was in a black sports car and I was going kind of fast because sports cars do that to me. (I totally blame Speed Racer, my favorite cartoon as a kid. I'm sure my name is Trixie in another lifetime.)

I took a sharp right turn onto what I thought was a bridge because it arched over the river, however, once I was speeding up the "bridge" I saw that it was actually a piece of art. It was a sandstone-colored, tube-like arch, and I was traveling along the outside of the tube. The car was kind of wobbling because the tube was not as wide as the car, but the tire edges were catching just enough traction to keep me careening along the edge. I knew I couldn't hit the brakes or I'd fall into the river.

As I crested the arch I saw in the middle there was a big black sphere connecting the two sides. I knew the tires would lose grip as I passed over the sphere so I gunned it and took off through the air, like any good Mach 5 would've done (because Newtonian physics don't apply in the Dreamtime; pity it didn't make the cool noise).

I had that feeling in my stomach you get on roller coasters as you head down the big hill and I couldn't tell if I would make it across the river or not, but I knew if I hit the water instead of the land on the other side, I would die so I was trying to concentrate really hard on making the car go far enough to hit land.

And then I woke up.

TWICE.

It's like I tried to finish the dream the second time and the Universe said, "Oh no you don't - no peeking! Wake up!"

The symbology is pretty obvious with my recent stress, and I've had dreams before where it felt so much like I was there I woke up in a panic, but this one really freaked me out because both times I felt like waking up was causing me to die in the dream. Like if I had only stayed asleep another few seconds I would've been able to will the car across far enough to hit land and survive, but because I woke up, I lost concentration and I knew I would die in the dream even though I didn't see it happen.

It makes me wonder if the reason I'm worried about the coastal decision is because this is one of those major etheric crossroads where realities branch out in different directions, never to meet on this conscious plane again. I know that even if I chose to stay on the East coast for another year, it's not like I couldn't go to California later, but I think if I wait I'll be following an entirely different path, if that makes any sense.

I absolutely believe we create our own realities, but I also believe there are certain inevitable, unavoidable milestones our higher selves set up for us along the way. These are things that are unaffected by our decisions - we may choose how we reach them, but reach them we will. Then we can choose again how to move on from there. Trouble is, I feel nothing less than Happiness itself is hanging in the balance.

What? Too dramatic? At least I'm learning to listen to my intuition instead of blowing it off.

Check Please

I've been really ill the past couple days, and for the first time in my life it didn't involve any phlegm at all, which is really weird for me. Usually when I'm sick my nose or my lungs are what's complaining. Instead my lot included fever, accompanied by all-over body aches, ending with a strong residual headache that even Advil couldn't touch. (I am the BIGGEST baby when my head hurts. I'd choose childbirth with no drugs again over my head hurting, but only if I didn't have to raise the kid after. I have my limits.) Anyway, I was so sick I had to call in to work, and that's unlike me too. I'm one of those people pleasers - always putting others ahead of myself - which usually ends in the Universe pulling my Emergency Brake. Fortunately I was only down two days.

It did, however, give me 48 hours to do little other than sleep, catch up on Tivo shows from early January, and think about what caused this bizarre illness. The conclusion I've reached is pure Stress. I've got more knots than Paris Hilton's knickers when Daddy cuts up a credit card over these decisions about my next move. I hate being pushed out of my comfort zone even when I know it will be better in the end. I guess it's a fear of the unknown bordering on a phobia. It's irrational. It's not like I haven't done this before - more than once even! I guess to give myself a little slack, moving across country with very little funds and no secure job at the other end could be daunting for many people. But I've also been told by a couple different oracles that everything will be fine... to stop worrying about it. In fact, every one of them has mentioned that unexpected help will show up. I am DYING to know what this unexpected help will be though! (Jesus Crackers, I've got knots in my stomach just writing about this. This is crazy!)

I had decided about a week ago to stop looking at apartments around the area I already live in. I was looking just in case I found out that I would definitely NOT have the funds to move across country. I mean seriously, there is doing it on a shoestring budget, and there is a time to say "it's just not gonna happen with what I got." But as soon as I think that, my brain reminds me of a blog post Bushwalla made quite awhile ago - very short and powerful to me:

You know you can feel your way through life. You can send yourself on journeys just by believing in yourself, and the power of self-manifestation. Every time I travel I affirm to myself that I can make it there just by being who I am. And the glorious part is I always do. 2 months ago I really wanted to visit my friend Jon (Blend Apparel) in San Francisco to re-up my soul( he has that type of power), and to visit San Fran and some other extremely inspiring peeps. I stayed positive with my life, and visualized...... and I made it. I leave in the morning. We are all making it: surrender.

OY. Surrender. Give in. Give it up. Yield. Concede. Hand it over. Submit. Relent. Throw in the fucking towel already and LET GO. I have all the words in the Thesaurus to describe it but I have the hardest time BEING it. We are all making it. Truer words were never written. (Thank you so much Billy.) Why is it so hard for me to have faith in this?

Do they have Control Freaks Anonymous?

Tonight, in a desperate attempt to shut my brain up, I went looking on Sera Beak's blog for a link to free tarot card readings. Normally I don't use tarot simply because I find it too hard to understand the hierarchies and how you lay out the cards and whatnot (ok, I'm lazy and when the instructions were more than I had time for I never tried again), but since I don't use them that often, and I've already exhausted every other oracle I have with my silly questions, I figured this would be a good way to "double check" the Universe. Hahaha. Like that's possible.

I chose the last link on Sera's list, which went to The Synchronic Book, because the words stood out to me. (Synchronicity is not only a favorite word of mine, but also a favorite collection of music. If you were unfortunate enough to be born after the 80s, The Police made Every Breath You Take a household phrase LONG before P. Diddy raped the song for the lame memorial tune I'll Be Missing You.) At first it didn't look like a tarot card thing, but I went with it anyway because it was interesting, and in the end it turns out you do get a result based on tarot so I knew I was in the right place.

The card I ended up with was The Star (get outta town because that means something to me even without knowing the interpretation) with the basic tarot meaning relayed as:

With Aquarius as its ruling sign, The Star is a card that looks to the future. It does not predict any immediate or powerful change, but it does predict hope and healing. This card suggests clarity of vision, spiritual insight. And, most importantly, that unexpected help will be coming, with water to quench the Querent's thirst, with a guiding light to the future.

Once again the Gods say, "Will you please stop tugging my sleeve! I have not forgotten you!"

Double checking the Universe is like being five years old and asking your Mom the same question for the 10th time. The odds are you're going to get the same answer.

~*~

On another note, I ordered a DVD from thegodmovie.com and we watched it last night. It was interesting and amusing, but not much new information. I'm always up for different perspectives though on why The Bible is such a farce, so I thought it was worth the money. I love that the guy who put together the movie was a former Christian Fundamentalist. Yay for The Inquisitive Soul! It just occurred to me that perhaps the label people have slapped on The Inquisition was a cosmic double entendre. Good joke, Universe.

I will add my disclaimer here saying that I don't begrudge Christians their religion (or Jews, or Muslims, or Buddhists, or anyone else), I just don't like how the zealots try to shove their beliefs down the throats of others, and swear up and down that anyone not believing the same as they do are surely going to Hell (or worse). The blood spilled over religion alone is enough for me to go "Uhhhhh... No Thanks. Point me toward the Peace and Harmony Road please?" Spiritual enlightenment is different for everyone, but I can't understand why people don't do their own research about what they choose to believe and why most don't really understand their religion. Laziness? Blind faith? Fear of Thinking? Bottom line: I'll respect your beliefs if/when you respect mine.

/disclaimer

And... uhhh... I can't remember the other thing I wanted to write and once again it's far past my bedtime so I guess that's it for me.

Oh wait, now I remember. I had this really weird dream TWICE while I was sick. Never in my life do I remember having the same dream twice, although I'm sure it's happened. I don't normally remember both times though, and certainly if I have had repeated dreams, they haven't been one night right after the other. This one I definitely remember like I saw it in a movie theater but I will have to write that tomorrow.

Until tomorrow...

The Intention Experiment

Lately I've been interested in the whole issue of what will happen in 2012. There's a book I've been trying to read on the subject, but so far I've had a tough time really paying attention and comprehending it. I've found in the past that when this happens, it means it's not time for me to know what's contained therein yet, so I put it back on my shelf and I've been reading other things these past couple months. Tonight I was going through my Amazon wish list deleting things that I've already acquired, and I was reminded of another book, The Intention Experiment. My interest was immediately piqued again and I went to the web site to check it out further. The top podcast on the site is about 2012. Ya gotta love how the Universe works. If you're at all interested in metaphysics, you should check out the web site and maybe you'll want to buy the book too: http://www.theintentionexperiment.com