Connected and Committed

JOT Day 26 - Clarity

Some people don't want to ask the question, "OK, but what about that?" and really figure out the answer.

I get that, and that's OK.

But I thrive on that question.

"OK, but what about that? What about that is causing such-and-such? What's going on underneath that's making this so difficult?"

I enjoy engaging in those kinds of questions and their answers because the world is ready to be done with waiting for us to catch up to them.

We actually already know the answers, collectively, but some of us aren't quite ready to grapple with them head on, out in the open.

And that's OK.

I'll keep asking, and sharing what shows up.

Because that's what I do.

 

 

Just One Thing (from here on out affectionately referred to as JOT) Day 1

So this is it.

My enthusiasm and decisiveness have reached critical mass at the same time, and so I'm launching a project that I'm fascinated by and a little leary of all at the same time.

Which is good. Perfect, in fact.

One should not begin a process of change that one feels totally relaxed about. Safety brings complacency and boredom to the table, eventually leading to premature retirement syndrome: it just doesn't go anywhere.

It takes some good old fashioned resistance and occasional jolts of fear to make an effort like this recognizable to the ego, and then the real challenge commences.

And just to round out the personas accounted for, this endeavor has momentum and energy behind it that has been building for quite some time, unbeknownst to my conscious awareness until last week.

The timing of it all is a bit puzzling though, since I normally do not indulge in the whole resolution setting debacle at year's end, or beginning for that matter, so I'm not waiting until January 1 to start.

I'm starting today with the Just One Thing initiative.   

Just One Thing, as in pick something and let yourself surrender to the process of moving towards it and enjoying the feeling of the adventure along the way.

Just one thing, and then do just one thing every day that puts you one infinitesimal step closer towards attaining it.

Not 43.

Not a handful.

Just one.

And allow the babystep accumulation to sweep you over the top of your goal, which might very well morph and molt and be something totally different by the time you come up for air.

The goal is really beside the point.

Doesn't matter what it is.

Losing weight.

Dropping the smoking habit.

Exercising.

Eating better.

Cooking more meals at home, and more often with all the members of your family present.

Finding something else to do besides watching television.

Cleaning out the garage/closets/spare bedroom/hallways because we can't walk in them anymore.

Finding a different job.

Deciding to like the one you have.

Finding the love of your life.

Falling in love again with the one you've got.

Putting some time in to learning a new hobby.

Picking one up again that you enjoyed in the past.

Feel better about life in general.

Doing what it takes to officially/governmentally/on-the-grid start your own business.

Practice public speaking/performance art/stand-up at a level you've only dared to sort of think about, sometimes.

I could go on.

There is something about which you might be hovering at the edge of crossing a line in your head about doing/being/having.

And at the moment you choose to follow where it wants to take you, then you're in this thing.

That's where I am, and I'm going to apply this babystep accumulation process to the last two items on the list I rambled on and on about.

And then I want to document that process, here on this blog (Unless I do it somewhere else. Because I fully expect that this ride will take some twists and turns and produce some fabulous, here-to-fore unknowable results that might have it look different than when it started. Hoping so).

To demonstrate what that looks like. That it's doable. That I get what my thought chaperone coaching clients go through because I do it myself, on purpose. That there are levels of blissmongering, and I'm diving in to find out what some of them are.

I plan to label my posts on this topic with "Day 7 - JOT", or something similar, so you can tag along with me and keep pace with where I am in the journey.

I don't plan to comment so much on what I'm doing, which I'm sure I'll do some of, but more about what new way of being this practice is creating for me. What new thoughts I'll have access to, what new experiences I'll savor, what new people I'll meet, what old stereotypes I'll put to rest, what new layers of feeling good about being alive show up.

So here I go--exposed, accountable, vulnerable, and rarin' to go.

Care to join me?

364 days from now there will be roughly at least 1200 hours with which you can look back on from a place of engagement and discovery, or the same ol'-same ol'.

I know what vantage point I'd rather be lookin' from.

 

 

 

clean start

 

This is what we woke up to this morning. Beautiful, pure, soul-soothing.

It feels like how New Year's Day feels.

Clean.

A fresh start.

Until we break our resolutions.

I imagine that soon there will be talk of coming up with 2011 resolutions all over the popular media.

Well, here's a list that I think are worthy of the time one might spend thinking about that topic:

 

10 Reasons to Face and Embrace Your Shadow

I know. Not exactly what you were expecting.

But everything in the world that we might point fingers at or blame or groove on outrage about stems from individual and group shadow dance. Someone's sucky childhood grew them into the pain-ridden adult who makes the kinds of choices they make that, while they may bring pain to others, bring them immense relief from the torment inside.

So I recommend we start trying something new in the arena of making changes.

Let's start on that inside job that makes a difference.

And then pass it on.

 

*1. Wake up from the spell of your ignorance, delusions and projections.

        All of that is a lie that our egos contrive and the culture corroborates with to keep us         hopelessly mired in thinking about what's wrong with us and looking in vain for what                        might fix us, instead of thinking about things that we want to do, and then doing them.

*2. Release huge amounts of energy that you otherwise expend to keep your shameful parts hidden.

        It's exhausting, this pretense-keeping. Your body makes you slow down with illness to get a rest         from it, and only then do we get a glimpse at how much we tension we carry around every day.         We poo-poo it, and that makes it all the more insidious.

*3. Stop living in fear, pretending that you are someone you are not.

        All the layers of meaning we've heaped on the roles we take on and the choices we                                make keep us in fear of being found out. Such games we play with ourselves. The ego is         paralyzed with fear that it won't be needed anymore once we decide that pretending to be                   who we really aren't has gone on long enough. It isn't going to die; it will just adopt a new         level of importance in your repertoire of personas.                                                 

*4. Start choosing whoever and whatever you want to be at any moment.

        We poo-poo this concept too. "It's not that easy." Well, at first it isn't. But consider                            that it ain't all that easy to maintain the status quo of pain, either. It feels familiar, it feels         like home, but it don't feel good. Being who you really are does.                  

*5. Recognize that the people who trigger you are mirroring back aspects of yourself that you have forgotten.

        Forgotten, and buried deep, and layered all kinds of meaning on top of, which leaves you rolled         up into a ball in a very dark place. It's not true, most of any of it. Come on out in the light         and dust yourself off, and get some air between those stories you've told yourself for decades,         and the truth. It takes practice to reclaim your sanity.

*6. Remove physical aches and pains in your body that are manifestations of blocked energy or repressed emotional material.

         A body can only take so much before it starts contorting to hold what we give it to hold.

*7. Find the gift in each of your Shadow aspects and learn how to use them for good.

        There's a turnaround in each of our perceived weaknesses. There are books out there that         can help you see them, feel them, and let go of their dominion over you. You'll notice your         bodily maladies start to diminish at the same time. Funny how that works, isn't it?                   

*8. Admire the greatness you see in others as your own.

        There is more than enough to go around. Someone else's misfortune doesn't mean there's                       less for you now. As a matter of fact, it's a trail of breadcrumbs for you to follow, if               you're up to receiving all the good stuff you've been asking for all your life. It's there,                    waiting for you to let it in.                    

*9. Manifest your full potential by reclaiming the parts of yourself that you've denied, hidden or given away to others.

        No one has the power to keep you down, sad, afraid, empty, alone. You are the only one                    with that power. You might attempt to give it away to people who really don't want it in                        the first place, and they do things differently around you because of it. But its yours and         yours alone.

*10. Finally really get what those spiritual people are talking about when they say, "We are ONE!"

        We are really all one humongous organism, making choices based on the energy available.                     Let's stoke the pile with more positive than negative, shall we? The powers-that-be seem to         be afraid of what might happen if we all were to become independent thinkers and followed         our souls' requirements. There's tons more money to be made from happy people than         unhappy people. Perhaps that might be an initial way "in", by making it about the economy.         

        Slightly shallow, but hey, it's a place to start.                         

 

Numbered items by Alissa Sige Weisman, MFTi.

Commentary by Blissmonger.

 

 

plant yourself by the hydrant

 

 

 

 

 

This tree has its leaves still, while others around it are bare.

You'll notice that it's very near the fire hydrant across the way.

It's positioned itself quite nicely in proximity of what it needs.

If you haven't done that for yourself lately, here is your reminder.

Do one of those things that you have identified in the past, or perhaps added into your repertoire lately, as something that makes your heart sing.

Those things that help you move up the emotional scale because they assist in shifting your beliefs about what's true, what's possible, what's real.

Better feeling thoughts become available to you when you do this.

Remember?

I knew you would.

 

the enmeshed lineup of the nomadic jeans

 

It's a process.

Take, for instance, the pair of jeans I put on a few night's ago that I hadn't worn since last spring.

I loved those jeans. They were my constant companion while the temperatures were below 60 degrees. Even though I'd never been a jeans kinda gal, for some reason I started wearing these and wondered what the heck I'd been thinking all those decades.

But when I put them on after a few seasons of disuse, they felt funny because, see, I'd gotten another pair a few months ago that had taken over the number one spot without me really realizing what was going on.

The new ones felt so good and fit so well that I just kept reaching for them in my closet, ignoring the older pair.

So when I finally consciously chose the old reliables again, the difference in how they made me feel was a bit of a shock.

I really wore these, all the time?

Really?

They just didn't fit me anymore, if they ever did. They must have at one time, but not now.

I remember feeling good about them, having fun in them, thinking that I would wear them until they were threadbare.

Kinda like the thoughts we entertain, swirling around in our heads.

Many of them have choreographed the essence of your days for years, showing up by seniority and not necessarily merit.

Thoughts about the products you buy, the television shows you watch, the people you do or don't like, the belief system you hold near and dear to your heart (or not), The Thing That Happened yesterday or years ago.

You might be surprised at how tenaciously you hold on to any one or all of those thoughts, having bought into the assumption that they are true and time-tested and perennially accurate.

Unfortunately, we don't usually get the opportunity of a natural hiatus from those thoughts that would allow us to re-examine them from time to time for worn spots and facets in need of replacement or repair.

Mostly it's circumstances and events that feel like they are from out of the blue, like a punishment from god, like a cross to bear, that contain the grain of sand that irritates the oyster of your heart that produces the pearl that entirely turns your life around in a way you could never orchestrate yourself.

No way.

Go, try on your jeans and see if they still fit you the way you think they do.

 

 

purge in the inbox and the stream

 

Liberation is the theme today.

I unsubscribed to the emails that I am no longer interested in receiving, and I declared my Facebook stream a positive/feels-good-to-me/resonating zone.

And already cyber space is a much more pleasant place.

You get to decide what enters your personal and psychic real estate boundaries.

Even when you don't decide, that's deciding.

Making it a more conscious choice is a baby step in the direction of taking your power back.

Social media is many things, and one of them is a time and energy suck. Being vigilant about the your requirements is takoing your power back, and showing yourself that you keep your promises to yourself.

Those baby steps do accumulate into the critical mass of a shift in your vibe, which means that you're hanging out in a new place on the emotional scale more and more of the time.

Which means new thoughts are becoming available to you, which means you'll start seeing different people and circumstances showing, even if they have the same faces and addresses.

"How does it feel?" - the most effective metrics in the universe one can apply.

And no one knows but you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have to want it, and believe it?

Your desire is strong enough, even amidst all that chronic resistance, you still squeak a dream out now and then. While you're asleep you're not resistant. So what you really want and what you really know can often come about in your dreamscape because you're not in there cutting it off at the knees...You've got desires that you're canceling, desires that you're canceling, desires that you're canceling, and when you stop doing that thing that you do as you've learned about pessimism, then you don't let your dream flourish in the way that it would if you'd just stop doing that thing you do.

You claim you are, but you're not exploring every avenue to make it happen because you're still willing to harbor negative thoughts that keep shooting it in the foot. You want it, but it feels like too big of a price to pay--"I have to get happy too? I have to be optimistic, too? I have to have positive expectation, too? Isn't it enough to just want it? I have to want it, and believe it?"

Yes.

When you argue for your limitations, you get out "there" where the solutions aren't. When you argue for your alignment you get in "here", where the solutions and paths are.

Every big thing that's ever happened was dreamed by someone, and the ones that allowed themselves to dream it even in the absence of "evidence" were the ones who found it.

~Abraham, May 2009

~*~*~

Still willing to harbor negative thoughts.

Still willing to buy into the appropriateness of hip cynicism.

Still willing to jump to conclusions whose validity you haven't examined for decades.

Still willing to give more credence to the past than the present.

Still willing to accept that life is supposed to suck.

Still willing to trust in the effectiveness of doubt.

Still stuck in the life that you really don't want.

Do you see the pattern here, the one with you as the commonality?

I'm a thought chaperone. I can help you with that.

Free delivery. And pick-up of the old stuff.

It's raining cats and dogs and all manner of invertebrates out there at the moment.

A particularly splendid ambiance from which to post here, seeing as it's been awhile.

I've been sorta busy.

I moved.

Across several states.

To be with the love of my life.

The third time around.

We affectionately call it 3.x.

It's only been a few weeks, and it feels like we've been doing this forever.

In a good way.

So there is hope for everyone out there who believes that love has
passed them by.

I am discovering it at age 50, and it rocks.

Prime ingredient for it to show up: being cool with it not showing up.

Loving your life the way it is. Enjoying your friends and how you orchestrate your free time, if not your waking hours in general.

Genuinely appreciating the heck out of as much as possible.

And not focusing on the topic whatsoever. When They say it will show up when you're not looking, They know what They are talking about.

Of course, this advice applies in most areas of desired change in one's life. Get busy being a happy person, and the waves of vibes around you will amass in the upper registers of the emotional scale to such proportions that the universe can't help but start drop-shipping the good stuff to you.

Because you let it in.

It's been hanging out, waiting for the crucial tipping point to be reached.

And viola!

Free delivery. And pick-up of the old stuff. It gets carted away, never to be pondered again.

Well, there might be a few rogue musings bandied about, but once you get a handle on this process, you won't worry about it any more.

And wouldn't that be just about the most amazing thing you can imagine?

I'm a thought chaperone. I can help you with that.

like coins in an empty Altoids tin

Yesterday there was a distinct clamoring going on in my head, a definite yammering of epic proportions.

It almost literally felt and sounded like the rattling of coins being shaken inside an Altoids tin.

The offending objects were thoughts that don’t serve me. Nothing of any import or note, but they were so offensive that they were immediately identified and a spotlight of sorts shown on them for the gremlins that they are.

I was literally bored and disgusted with them and couldn’t understand why they were still hanging around after a moment or two of repeating them in my head.

Of course I know why–I’ve repeated and indulged in that kind of gossipy, mundane, he-said/she-said kind of thought so many times in the decades I’ve been alive that my casting director had no choice but to fling some more my way.

I am thrilled to consider that this shift in my awareness will signal a shift as well in what is available for me to think now. Less and less trash, more and more substance. Baby steps in that direction accumulate to critical mass.

Then later in the day I was considering a situation and felt unease around it and again was brought to awareness of what the heck I was doing.

I waited it out and refocused on something else, and received manifestation this morning of that work. This is visceral evidence of thought as matter moving through me differently, and demonstrating the results.

If there were a machine that could make that kind of xray, it would be astounding for folks to be able to witness their own alignment, or misalignment, and then proceed from there as they saw fit.

I wonder how many would want to know?

Would you?

You'll thank yourself for practicing if you start now

The colors have begun changing. It's fall.

Have you noticed?

Have you spent any time lamenting where the summer went?

Hopefully it wasn't more than ten seconds' worth. That's how long it takes to activate a vibe that follows you around like a newborn duck imprinting on a human being. Very hard to shake off.

How about refocusing on the good stuff to come?

And if you can't think of anything good, how about considering the fact that that strategy does not serve you?

You might not be accustomed to making the best of things,  but you learned how to make the worst of them. Same effort on the other side of the fence.

And the results you get will knock your socks off.

Granted my favorite season is this one, so I get to practice this skill in the winter.

No moaning and groaning going on then, is there, come January 27th or so?

You'll thank yourself for practicing  is you start now.

filters

Filters. I've always loved the concept. Using photography or stage light filters as an analogy, it makes even more sense to me.

Our life experiences and our beliefs are filters through which we see the world. Everyone else sees through their filters too, which makes for communication on any given topic quite a miracle, since no two people see anything the same exact way, ever.

The blue acetate filter and the green acetate filter that I overlay an experience with don't let me see what the person with the red and the orange acetate sees.

One person's definition of love that they internalized as a child is the filter they use to interact with others in a way that feels loving to them. Might not feel that way to the receiver who has different filters entirely, but that was the intention.

Filters. Can't live with 'em, can't shoot 'em.

They can be dissolved, though, with Love (with a capital l).

like that

 

http://ow.ly/2hvkP

I look around and take stock of where I'm not.

Hello. When I do that, I miss the opportunity to enjoy what's going on in front of me.

Like the kid who was amazed I knew his name and wasn't too thrilled about it. A few days later, he came back into my classroom to just stand around and hang during passing time until the bell rang.

Like the meltdown I talked my son through stepping away from the edge of ever so deftly.

Like the enraptured joy on the face of a one-year-old's savoring of pretty shiny things on another woman's fingers.

Like the shift in my solar plexus I can feel when I manage a baby step in the direction I want to go from frustration to mere pessimism, causing my casting director to shift everything that's waiting in the wings offstage for me in that direction too.

Like putting together some lime green and fuchsia bracelets that make my tan pop and my inner design goddess happy.

Like dropping yet another load of things that could be better used by others at the Salvation Army.

Like knowing things are going to be amazingly crazy busy and good in a few months and I will look back on this "fallow" time with some wistfulness.

Like that.

I know who to be about it

That's me, alright.

A little blurry, cuz things are moving so fast.

But in a good way.

Looking straight ahead.

Observing, scanning, inhaling, devouring, absorbing, savoring, reveling in.

Appreciating the contrast, that produces a desire, that launches preferences to my cosmic casting director, who stands with his clipboard of people, circumstances and events in the wings, choreographing them all on the stage of my life according to how I choose to feel in any moment.

He's a busy guy these days.

When I remember to work my joy pullers and my resistance toys, I get to new places of "getting it".

When I don't, I feel like crap.

Until I remember again.

So what If things suck for a minute, or a hundred?

I know what to do about it.

Who to be about it.

And that has tons more legs than staying stuck in resentment.

I've noticed.

some days belong to the crisis psycho pirate

I'm not sure what this plant is called, or what that amazing blossom-to-be will eventually be. Those curvy almost tentacle-like tendrils possess shades of the wild thang that eats people in Little Shop of Horrors, but they are quite beautiful at the same time.

We all have that dual personality disorder goin' on in every moment. Just depends which one we choose to activate; consciously or knee-jerk, they show up either way.

Some days the dolphin side takes over, the part of us that remembers that life is supposed to be fun and that play will net us more of what we want than any amount of manipulation or self-denigration will ever produce. Those graceful, gentle creatures handle moving back and forth between two realities with ease and skill. Breathing air has its cool aspects, and breathing water is home. Both work, and options are good.

And some days require allowing the crisis psycho pirate a few drama-filled scenarios to get the pull of resentment and fear out of our systems. Cooler heads may prevail, but a heart that needs to express some rage and frustration will have its day; planning for it saves so much wear and tear on the body/mind.

Ceramic dishes sent spinning into concrete works just fine, as well as screaming inside your car at the top of your lungs, wailing on a pillow or a mattress with a wiffleball bat, or plugging into the music that never fails to pull you into a new head space.

Whatever it takes, you know? 

And if you're anything like me, giving in to the pirate takes some doing.

Aren't I supposed to be all serene and shit?

I'm a thought chaperone.

I don't do that drama thing anymore.

Well, guess what. We're humans still walking on the planet. We need to acknowledge that we experience the gamut of feelings that are in the dictionary, and then let them go. Pretending that they aren't there is so old paradigm, and so doesn't serve anyone in the process.

Perfectionism breathes life into the pirate.

circuitry of happiness

I never thought I'd say this, but....

With the power of my retrained brain, the one whose routing I've been chaperoning for a few years now, I entertained a new thought today.

And the conjuring of it went further along on its neuropathway than it ever has before.

I sent out a message in a bottle that the thought should think about what it would be like to be totally in the moment. Unguarded. Certain of a smooth, flowing, ease-full existence.

And it did.

It went beyond mere suggestion and imagery.

It actually embraced the circuitry of happiness.

Even living as a blissmonger such as I do, I've not been there before. Not like this.

Not able to soar up the emotional scale so high that the glass ceiling I'd built above it melted such that I didn't notice.

As with any shift in perspective, this will take some integrating, some getting used to, some pondering.

For a few days.

And then the newness will wear off, the novelty will fade, and the state will just be normal.

This I can handle.

you gotta wanna

"This mental attitude is our personality and is composed of the thoughts which we have been creating in our own mind; therefore, if we wish a change in conditions all that is necessary is to change our thought; this will in turn change our mental attitude, which will in turn change our personality, which will in turn change the persons, things and conditions, or the experiences with which we meet in life.

It is however no easy matter to change the mental attitude, but by persistent effort may it be accomplished; the mental attitude is patterned after the mental pictures which have been photographed on the brain; if you do not like the pictures, destroy the negatives and create new pictures; this is the art of visualization." ~ Charles Haanel, The Master Key

"Sweeping, definite, gentle, persistent." ~ John Randolph Price

~*~*~

It is no easy matter to change our mental attitude.

Charles knew it way back in 1912.

John knew it in the 80s.

You know it, right this minute.

This minute that likely has some vague, or perhaps very distinct, nagging thought rolling around in the bowling alley of your mind, this thought that keeps showing up and that you keep giving credence to.

You think this thought, even though you might have done some other thinking that arrived at the conclusion that it really didn't serve you to think that thought any more.

You get what your contribution is, on some level, to the undesirable relationships and circumstances in your life, and you genuinely want to do something about that.

You wish that nagging thought would just go away, and it doesn't just go away.

Well, it can't, because you've thought about it and activated it enough that it's going to be around for awhile, just like the cigarette smoke on your clothes and in your hair after you leave the bowling alley.

That's where John's advice comes in.

"Sweeping, definite, gentle, persistent."

That other thinking, the one where you realize that the first thought doesn't serve you and that you want it to leave--it's got to be sweeping, definite, gentle and persistent.

That other thinking has to be of similar weight and proportion and size to what you are training it to take the place of.

Ponder for a moment how many times you have thought the nagging thought.

Given that we think upwards of 60,000 thoughts a day, the actual number of times could be quite staggering.

That's the precedence you're working with here.

You gotta wanna enjoy the freedom from that nagging thought so much that you are willing to put at least as much effort into that other thinking as you have the nagging thought.

It's only fair.

Sweeping, definite, gentle, persistent.

Of course that nagging thought didn't start out to be the gargantuan bugger it is today.

It started out small, very small, and accumulated power a little bit every day.

It relied on the measly influence of negativity to make its way to the top, too.

And you've got a much more effective tool this time around, if you choose to use it.

Positive thought.

Choosing to go this route will give you palpable, tangible evidence that you are making headway, every time you feel the relief that will come when you make the effort.

Relief equals power. Moving up the emotional scale one rung at a time gives you your power back.

And the amount of time necessary to reroute your thinking won't take as long as you've been mired in that nagging thought.

Could be decades we're dealing with there, right?

It will take as long as you decide it will take.

You just have to listen to that small voice in your head that constantly reminds you that there's supposed to be more to life than THIS.

You've just gotta wanna destroy those negatives, rearrange those pixels, regrind the holes in the bowling ball.

You gotta wanna feel the relief, feel good more of the time, feel in charge of your life.

You gotta wanna.

large, dark, slowly lumbering bovine

Whilst driving back to the city last weekend, on a stretch of still-mostly-rural road, we happened upon a meandering group of cattle dangerously near the highway who had discovered that the gate that usually enclosed them was now, well, miraculously not.

A very large, dark, slowly lumbering bovine was well within ten feet of passing automobiles, several of her compatriots close behind her at the moment we crossed paths, animal and human.

Looking through the rear window as long as I could, I envisioned how not pretty that scene could become, and quite soon.

Not unlike the havoc our thoughts can wreak, once the gates of our conscious focus have been compromised.

Thoughts are tricky like that.

We think them, and they seem to take on a life of their own, as if they were the ones running the show.

The locus of control does remain with us however.

It's our choice to allow them to run rampant, willy-nilly, hither and yon, bounding along the downtrodden trail they've enjoyed unbridled access to for decades.

We are equally capable of reigning them in, closing the gate, and requiring some obedience training skills be exercised.

It just seems impossible for us to envision thinking any other way about that thing, or that person, or that situation.

Or nearly so.

Some of us do still have a shred of hope left even after decades of implanting not so good results into our psyches, which makes nearly-impossible much more manageable than strictly-impossible.

When my nearly-impossible cows get loose in the world here in this little slice of heaven I'm simmering in lately, I pull out my thought chaperone tools and apply them liberally to myself until I slide ever so delightfully into, "Oh, it is so done," mode.

I'm beginning to enjoy the palpable sensation of relief so much that I almost look forward to enduring the contrast that brings it about.

Or nearly so.

There is of course the strategy of hanging out in the pasture rather than mulling over whether the gate is going to open or not.

Skip the middle man.

pull ahead and press the help button

I was driving through the Chicago area recently and saw this sign at one of the toll booths.

This is the closest thing to a user manual for modern life that I've ever been able to find.

A few days later I was driving with the aid of a GPS device for the first time.

As someone who could be labeled as geographically challenged if I believed in labels, this experience was truly life-altering. For the first time ever, it was virtually guaranteed that I would make it to my destination (this one in a new-to-me place) and back without getting turned around, wasting time or questioning my ability to reason.

Orientation on this plane of existence takes on radically opposite frames of reference in my head. Maps are simply upside down. If I think I should be going right, I might as well just go left to save myself the hassle of having to turn around and do it anyway five minutes later.

This miraculous gadget could be rescuing my behind on a regular basis, and I marveled at how I hadn't even considered purchasing one of these doohickeys of my own before.

Hmmmmmm. That dismissal, that skepticism--it felt so familiar.

Oh yeah. Like the degree to which people in general resist trusting their own emotions and the vital information that is available from them.

It is so ingrained in this culture to go along to get along that we don't even notice anymore when our desires are ignored, when what would make us happy seems impossible, that it's actually an option to have what we want.

That would just be selfish.

Actually it requires huge amounts of accountability and self-discipline, which often get interpreted as selfishness, but I digress.

I remember a time when I couldn't name the emotion I was having, I'd buried them all so deep in an act of self-preservation, or so I thought.

I remember how difficult it was to relearn to trust myself and my decision-making process. Nothing had turned out for me up until that point, so why should it now?

I remember thinking that it was a waste of time to think about, much less follow, my dreams.

I remember not understanding how I might successfully navigate my day-to-day and my year-to-year.

But I did figure out how to tell what emotion I was having, and why, and what it was telling me. And I did relearn to trust myself to be true to myself  with what was important to me. And I did decide that not following my dreams would mean simply that I had gotten busy dying instead of living.

One of the amazing things about a GPS? It automatically begins to recalculate your route when you change your mind about where you're going.

It doesn't say, "Sorry, you said you were going there, so you're stuck with that decision now."

It objectively points the way to the new destination, no judgments, no second-guessing your motives.

Just like our emotions. If we'd let them.

Go ahead. Pull ahead and press the help button.

some little clue to the meaning of the universe

The physical beauty of the Keshiri was difficult to resist  but Vestara knew she would not be one of those who succumbed to it. She was utterly devoted to the Force, to her studies, to practicing and training and honing her skills until her body quivered with weariness, until she was drenched in sweat, until she crawled into bed and slept the dreamless sleep of the exhausted.

And now this Ship had come, and she did not care about anything else.

Again she felt the cold perusal, and shivered. Ahri's arms tightened about her, mistaking the gesture for physical chill.

You sensed me.

I-I did, she sent back through the Force.

She was being...examined. Appraised.

You seek to become a Sith Master. To harness the power of the dark side.

I...I...

Vestara straightened to her full tall height atop Tikk's back and deliberately banished her childish hesitancy. Never mind that she had never before beheld a spacefaring vessel--never even seen the diagrams and schematics that were purported to rest inside the forbidden hull of the crashed Omen. She was of the Tribe, the daughter of a Sith Saber. She was exceptionally strong in the Force and knew it.

And the Ship--Ship itself, not its pilot, she realized now it had no pilot, not yet--was testing her. She would not shrink before its probity.

I do . I shall. I am Vestara Khai, daughter of a proud heritage. I have what is necessary to command the dark side and bend it to my will. To use it for the good of the Tribe, and the People.

For the good of all Sith, Ship suggested.

She nodded automatically, though even as she did so she realized the vessel couldn't see her.

Except that it could. Or rather, she realized, it could sense her agreement in the Force. She felt it approve and then withdraw. Without the coldness of its presence in her mind, she somehow felt bereft, but she refrained from seeking it out again.

At that moment, as her gaze wandered from Ship to the throng of Sith crowding around it, in that sea of dark robes she saw a pale blond head turn in her direction. It was Lady Rhea, one of the members  of the Sith Circle of Lords, and her blue eyes were fixed upon Vestara. Even from this height, Vestara could see that Lady Rhea's eyes were narrowed, as if she was considering something.

Slowly, Vestara smiled.

Star Wars: Fate of the Jedi: Omen  by Christie Golden, p. 45

~*~*~

'Actually," I told him reluctantly, "I have always agreed with the idea that we have a sin nature. I don't think it looks exactly like the fundamentalists say it does, 'cause I know so many people who do great things, but I do buy the idea we are flawed, that there is something in us that is broken. I think it is easier to do bad things than good things. And there is something in that basic fact, some little clue to the meaning of the universe."

..."Of course, but that really should tell us something about the human condition. We have to be taught to be good. It doesn't come completely natural. In my mind, that's a flaw in the human condition."

Blue Like Jazz, Don Miller

~*~*~

The great thing--no, one of the great things--about being able to look at life through the lens of possibility is the plethora of examples of how that might work that are available all around me, in every moment, that shine in the most unlikely places.

Even books about the dark side.

Even books about the flawed human condition.

What's fascinating about the dark side is that, for the dark side to be attractive at all, someone has to be in a lot of pain for relief to arrive from that sector of the universe. All its promise of power and domination only appeals to those who perceive themselves as powerless and dominated.

I'm guessing that things look good for Vestara to experience initiation into the fold in the story, something she desires and deserves to have. She can participate in the dark side and it doesn't have to affect me or what I desire. Where I'm at on the emotional scale most of the time, our worlds won't overlap or intertwine at all unless we choose to stick our noses in each other's business intellectually, or more importantly, energetically.

And actually I'm inspired by her dedication to go after what she wants. She doesn't hesitate. She rises to the occasion of opportunity like a fully realized female and allows herself to go toward who she's been  becoming.

There's much to admire here, more than what's available to the standard feminine action figure personas that populate the mainstream super hero shows my son watches.

And the notion that we have to be taught how to be good, well, I'm here to perform contaminated belief supply procedures on the layers of unexamined beliefs in that soft underbelly.

Generations of children have been conditioned to slowly but systematically reject who they really are in order to gain very conditional approval from those grown-ups who appear to have things figured out here on the planet.

The result is a huge spiritual backfire, this pounding square pegs to fit into round holes.

That's what is broken in us, once we buy into the idea that we need fixing.

And no one who claims to has much of anything figured out here on the planet that I can see. We keep making silent agreements to continue supporting ideas that don't work, en masse.

That little clue to the meaning of the universe?

Hello.

a box that was designed by someone else

This is when Sister A sprang into action. She was so furious that the hair under her veil was soaked and sweat dripped down the back of her neck. If there wasn’t a commandment that said, Do Not Kill, she would have her hands around Margaret’s meaty and evil little throat in a second.

 

She came around the corner so fast that Meggie had no idea what hit her, and she was definitely hit. Sister A backhanded her across the face, and there was an instant welt on her right cheek the exact size of Sister’s knuckles. The slap took the wind out of her and for a moment she thought she would faint.

 

No words were spoken. Sister A grabbed Meggie by the arm and dragged her across the gym, down the brown-tiled hallway, and threw her, actually threw her, into the teacher’s lounge. No one Meggie knew had ever been into the teacher’s lounge, and this is where Meggie discovered that nuns go to the bathroom. This is where she also discovered the potential cruelty of the human heart.

 

The room was empty. Sister Aloysius backed Meggie against the concrete wall and pushed her face against Meggie’s. Meggie could see down her throat and she sensed something so horrible that she had a hard time breathing. Evil. She sensed something evil.

 

“Who do you think you are?” the nun hissed. “Do you really think you can be who you want to be? Do you?”

 

Meggie could not speak. She was afraid she was going to wet her pants. She prayed, because prayers were supposed to save you, but there was no saving her from Sister Aloysius.

 

“Girls are nothing, absolutely nothing. We are here to serve the men, the priests, the men who will be lawyers and politicians and who will always rule the world. We clean the bathrooms and take what is left. What makes you think you can have the kind of life you talk about?”

 

There was no answer from Meggie, who was crying like she had never cried before. What if Sister was right? What if she couldn’t be who she wanted to be?

 

“You’re A’s mean nothing and your talk means nothing. Until you humble your spirit, you will have and be nothing. Girls? You are crazy. We are dust on men’s feet, and it’s time you realize your sinful ways and beg God for forgiveness.”

 

Begging was something Meggie thought she could do just then. She did not want to be hit again, and she wasn’t. What happened next was worse than hitting.

 

Sister A opened the supply closet, the closet with no lights in it, no place to sit, no bathroom, and she pushed Meggie inside of it. Without a word, she locked the door and left.

 

Meggie stayed ion the room for five hours. She heard people moving outside the door and heard the bus leave, but Sister Aloysius knew that Meggie walked home. Meggie cried and she prayed and she begged God to forgive her and she promised that she would do whatever it was He wanted her to do. She didn’t have to go to college and save the world. She didn’t have to go to law school. She would cook and clean and do whatever she had to, if only she could get out of the dark and scary room. She promised over and over again, for what seemed the longest moments of her life.

 

When she heard the door unlock, she waited before she pushed it open, and then ran all the way home.

 

Margaret Joan Callie never told anyone about what happened that day. She never spoke to Cynthia behind the bleachers or anyone else ever again about what she believed or didn’t’ believe. She sat perfectly still during Mass and she slowly carved away the edges of her dreams until they fit into a box that was designed by someone else.

~Dancing Naked at the Edge of Dawn by Kris Radish

This doesn't have anything to do with being Catholic, or female, or a dreamer.

It has everything to do with the fact that everyone seems to have defining moments like this that shape who they become. Moments in childhood, moments in adulthood, moments that change the course of our lives, our expectations for how those lives will be lived.

Some of us never recover.

Some of us nurture unconsciously an invisible spark that ignites later, when the time is right, when we have had enough of the limitations we built ourselves, based on the thoughts we played over and over for decades about something that happened, something just like this.

The human spirit can only take so much. We either curl up, numb out and die to one degree or another, or one day find ourselves unable to proceed as usual. Rage may be the fuel that takes us over that expanse from impossible to possible. Whatever the fuel or incentive is, an amazing resolve appears seemingly out of nowhere that carries us through to the other side.

We make it through to the other side.

 

oh, the baby steps it took to get here, and blissmonger beads

Oh, the baby steps it took to get here. He even wanted to take her for a walk - can you imagine?

And here, again, baby steps. I can't wait to get home every night to try something new.

that resolution thing

It is the new year, but if you're looking for some guidance on how to stick with resolutions you've made, you'll be disappointed here.

I don't do resolutions.

I think it's a very clever way to instill yet another layer of guilt on the collective conscience of our culture, this constant I'm-not-good-enough-the-way-I-am mentality that we buy in to.

Sure, some of us could certainly benefit from those lofty goals we might set for ourselves at this time of year.

But have you noticed how futile those efforts usually are?

We're given a false imperativehave NGE shoved down our throats, but nary a clue as to how to be successful at achieving them.

And those lists of superficial tip/tweaks here and there don't count as guidance either.

The only effective control panel we have that I've been able to harness in my 47 years is our thoughts and our feelings.

When you get the hang of that, everything is within your reach.

Cuz it's no reach at that point.

It's a given.

If you're interested, I've got a "No, thanks. I'm OK the way I am" t-shirt with your name on it.

confusion and clarity

From confusion comes clarity.

You just might need to sit with the confusion for awhile before the clarity shows up.

And when it does, you know - your gut clears out the yucky feelings, and you are clear.

You know you know.

And it doesn't matter what anybody else thinks, or says.

You go by how it feels.

Not condescendingly, or from a position that needs to be justified or proven.

You just know.

And then you move on.

wonder

Sometimes, I just don't know.

When something that might not bother other people bothers me, I wonder about the validity of my response.

But I can't help how I feel, and I won't solve anything by shoulding myself into feeling the way others feel.

I feel how I feel, until I feel differently.

I could have things sized up all wrong, but for the moment, I don't think so.

Sometimes I just don't know.

what I want

I see something I want.

I note that it's not likely to ever be mine, since it belongs to someone else.

So, what to do?

OK, apply your skills here, dude.

What is it about what you want that makes you feel jazzed, that you can focus on and draw that to you in a different manifestation?

-I love how I feel around it.

-I love the effortlessness of being around it.

-I love how I have fun with it.

-I love how unrestricted I feel around it.

-I love how authentic I can be around it.

There.

That's what I want, and why.

Now it's my turn to allow.

And continue feeling good about as many things as possible, making deposits into my emotional 401K.

Cha-ching.

this affects everyone

Whether you have a young man or young woman in your life, you need to talk about what you see here with both of them. It impacts them both in different ways. It impacts us all.

relationships

This is familiar terrain. It feels like I've been here before, but there are some key differences this time around:

1) I am detached from the outcome.
2) My heart is wide open.
3) I know that Love with a Capital L is at work here, and my job is to allow it to move through me.
4) I can hold the space for others to do the same.
5) Change is the only constant.
6) Everyone else's journey is theirs and theirs alone.
7) I contribute the most by being intensely and naturally my Self.
8) I have no idea how things will turn out, and it's none of my business.
9) The difference between feeling good and feeling bad is all it takes to let me know when to shift focus in every moment.
10) Drama is an exhausting, debilitating diversion, a remote and ineffective attempt at substitution for #3.
11) Sometimes the pain of choosing a new way of thinking is more painful than hanging on to the drama.
12) It's about them.
13) Help is best offered when it's requested, and not before.
14) This too shall pass.
15) At some point, something else will be showing up around the corner.

bloody technology

You may have noticed I've been doing some tweaking to the ol' blog look-and-feel.

Apparently some of those tweaks cause some issues with functionality.

Sigh.

It's never a simple thing to fix, and I am chuckling at the universe's sense of humor in all this.

This too shall pass, but boy can I get frustrated in the meantime, not knowing what I need to know to fix it.

Sigh.

Waa waa waa.

Enough whining.

I figured it out already.

Thanks for humoring me, universe.

I know, I know

"And you just cannot afford the luxury of sloppily looking anywhere the loudest bell that is ringing is asking you to look, and at the same time practice the Art of Allowing."

I know, I know, I know.

Sloppy thinking wreaks havoc in escrow land. Sometimes it's soooooooo tempting to slip back into a feeling whose detrimental effect has clearly been established - why is that? What is it about a familiar feeling, even if it's a negative one, that brings so much perceived comfort? How can a chemical trigger in my neuro pathways be so actively working against my best interests?

Fortunately, I'm not up to indulging this yearning in feeling land - it's just not worth it. The bell doesn't retain its original decibel levels, so the siren call isn't as compelling as it once was. With a wistful last look, I turn and walk away into the sunset, preferring to further entrench a trail in new territory than navigating these old useless ruts again.

Sigh.

a mantra for our times

The only way that you can ever know
if something is of value to you
is by the way it feels
as you are receiving it.

-- Abraham

**************

This belongs on every wallpaper, every screen saver, every forehead, every nightstand, every bathroom mirror. If it doesn't feel good, it's either not true, or a shout from the universe that you'd best be moving along from whatever it is. Do an about face in your mind or on your feet, and get the hell outta there.

waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

I have no idea why I am such a whiney whiner at the moment, but I am. Could be the sub-zero temps inside at work, contrasting with the hotter-than-hades temps outside. Balance, moderation, please. The kicker indicator that not all is well - my shopping expedition to Whole Foods, there was no bulk oatmeal nor granny smith apples. None. How can that be? Where is my stuff? Waa-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a. My alignment must be way-y-y-y-y off.....

I wonder if it's because I didn't listen to any music all weekend. At all. Hmm....

Via magpie girl's site: here’s some ideas for dealing with the Small Bloggers Blues:

1. Take a break from your site meter.
2. Redefine success for yourself. List all things your blog does for you (fosters gratitude in your life, helps you hone your craft, organizes your thoughts…
3. Write yourself an affirmation. I like this one: “My story matters.”
4. Reach out to another small blogger. Take this feeling that you have about being discouraged or not “not mattering” and take it as a cue that you need to reach out to others who are feeling the same.
5. Join the SMALL IS BEAUTIFUL google group. (I’ll link to it when it is available.)
6. Follow a comment you like back to the commenter’s blog. You’ll probably find an inspirational read from someone who shares your values.
7. Tag your posts with your name (or nom de plume) and your blog name so like minded souls can find you.
8. Remind yourself that you are writing for an audience of one. Make yourself a sticker that says “I heart authenticity.”

I like this list. It contains wisdom gleaned from magazines targeted towards women for obsession about weight, and dealing with depression, with a cyber twist. Don't focus on the numbers. Get out of your head and into someone else's heart. Do it for you. Do it for you. Do it for you. Be yourself, and the audience will follow. Or not. It doesn't really matter, as long as you are having fun and the tool doesn't become the vehicle for your life. The idea is to get out there and live it, so you can benefit from reflecting on it. Commenting on someone else's blog will make THEIR day. Give the thing you want to get. There's more than enough to go around.

There. I still want my oatmeal and my granny smith apples, but I feel better about their absence.

emotional scale

It's 10 o'clock - do you know where your feelings are?

Throughout the day, would you be able to guess with fairly high accuracy what your emotional range has been from hour to hour, moment to moment?

Where would you estimate you spend your emotional currency in this grid?

I thought so.

If you're like me, you might be a bit surprised to discover in which clusters of feelings you are actually spending most of your waking hours.

And if reaching and dabbling and shining's purpose is to feel good, most of the time, about most things, well, some of us have some work to do. I know I did.

When I discovered that I was dipping down into the lower half of the scale more often than I thought I was, that was an eye-opener.

I realized that my efforts to move toward the upper registers by reaching for what resonates probably weren't going to be as successful as they might be if I weren't self-sabotaging with emotional cement weights.

Ah, but awareness is your friend in being able to orchestrate change. And when resistance roars in and tells you that it's stupid to do this exercise, you'll know you're on the right track.

Print out the pdf version of this chart several times and put them in places you'll come across them naturally throughout your day. If you don't have a color printer, you can color in the wavy lines yourself if you want.

Or determine some tracking method that works for you, and use it to indicate what you are feeling and when. Draw a grid over the wavy lines to represent your day by the hour. Or just write down what time it is when you come across each sheet and circle where you are at the moment.

Or do nothing at all, except pay attention. That's reaching, too. Just the choice of wanting to know, over blissful ignorance, is enough of a shift to start you on the northern migration, which is where I want to be.

Care to join me?