I went to sleep listening to Steve and Dad talking in the living room. It was a nice, soothing drone, spattered with Steve's 'heh heh heh' every now and then, and the ups and downs in volume as the talk got exciting. This morning when I awoke I went in to talk to Dad for a while. We're only here for a few more days so I want to make the most of it. I got up to make breakfast, then looked at the kitchen table and saw Bill and Dad talking sweetly. I don't know how long they'd been talking, maybe 10 minutes, maybe 5. I don't know. I sat down and listened for a minute, then joined in. Bill left the table and went back to his computer. My stomach started hurting. I checked with it. I didn't let Dad and Bill talk. I interrupted and was loud and my imposing usual self. I don't like that. I didn't like that. I got tears in my eyes. I want to change certain things about myself, and that's certainly one of them. I miss a lot of things because I can't shut my mouth. Why do I talk so much? I get excited, certainly, I probably want people to think I'm smart or clever or HERE. Maybe it's the youngest child thing, having to fight to be heard all the time, so that when I'm grown up I don't realize I don't need to talk all the time and loudly to be heard anymore.
I asked Dad if I had interrupted, and he said no; Bill said the same thing. They'd gotten a good talk in. Steve gently suggested that next time I just sit down and listen for a while. So this afternoon I noticed Dad and Bill starting to talk about computer programming. I sat down quietly and just listened. There - that helped. My stomach didn't start to hurt, and I didn't get tears in my eyes. Maybe this old dog CAN learn new tricks. I certainly hope so. I don't want to miss a thing! I think for tomorrow I'm going to concentrate on just listening, and asking questions of others when it's appropriate. See how that feels. I'll report back, for sure. It's probably a long lesson I'm needing to learn, but I DO appreciate my stomach aching, letting me know that something's off kilter. If I listen to my body, I'm sure it will continue to help me out. I wonder what else is going on? I know I got that headache this afternoon when I started feeling sad, but that's a story for another day...
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
it's a(nother) miracle!
I've had a scorching headache on and off for a month now, courtesy of jaw displacement from my fun hour long tooth extraction. When I had that figured out, I called Tammy to come do cranial sacral, that miracle technique that saved my life a few year's back when I had other head problems. She worked on me the day before we left for Florida, but kept going, "Ooh," and tsking, so that I knew it was really bad. Everywhere she touched on my head it hurt.
So it wasn't surprising to me that over the course of these past five days my headache's gotten worse and worse, as I held my jaw tight through the crowds at Epcot, maneuvered through traffic on Interstate 4, and overall got more and more stressed out just from the travel. It's been a fabulous trip - don't get me wrong, but carrying my now 75 pound shoulder bag everywhere (anyone need a bottle of water, turkey jerkey, trail mix, bandaid, hand sanitizer, book, anything anything? I've got it right here... somewhere) didn't help my head/neck/shoulder/back issues. This morning (it's only 7AM now, so it must've been around 5 or so) I woke up with the pain that just wouldn't go away. I started massaging my temples and jaw, sutures on top of my head, digging my fingers into C3 and C4, putting my hands over my ears, especially my loudly ringing left ear, but nothing helped. Finally I stopped, and said, "I now open my head up and am relaxing and letting everything flow through me smoothly. I am in perfect health, and feel great," then promptly fell asleep. I haven't sleep for the past two nights, so this in itself was a minor miracle, but I think the bigger miracle is that I'm awake now (albeit still tired) but the pain in my head is greatly diminished. I keep reminding myself and the Universe that I am in perfect health, and tune in to see if I'm holding my jaw tight from stress or if I'm still relaxed (sometimes stressed but can relax it pretty easily).
I think of my friend Gail who's having bad dreams, and Melissa, who hasn't been able to sleep, and everyone else who's sensitive and experiencing all sorts of stuff right now - anxiety, depression, resentment, fear, anger, restlessness, and I send out a big burst of love and support and encouragement right now. Just keep breathing and walking through this current time - it's like that little part in the Everest ride where you get to the broken track and wonder where you're going to go next. You can't go forward, till you feel the car moving backward. Sure, it's scary, and sure, you're now moving BACKWARDS, but you get to your destination eventually, just not in the way that you thought you would. You got there by another route, but you kept going. The only way out is through - of whatever you're going through right now. We're all moving toward our reunion with ourselves and our memories and our consciousness, and I know it's going to be fabulous - THAT I've never doubted, even if I HAVE doubted the route I'm taking to get there. Does it have to be this bumpy? This up and down? This scary? But I chose it for a reason, even if I don't consciously know why. I just HAVE to trust in the bigger picture, so I DO, and I keep walking, making sure to keep noticing and acknowledging the sweet little miracles that continuously pop up all over the place, like my lessened headache. Okay, so that's a BIG miracle for me right now - man, that sucker can really hurt! Now see if you can refrain from singing Barry Manilow for the rest of the day. C'mon, I double dog dare you! {a true blue spectacle, a miracle come true... la la la}
So it wasn't surprising to me that over the course of these past five days my headache's gotten worse and worse, as I held my jaw tight through the crowds at Epcot, maneuvered through traffic on Interstate 4, and overall got more and more stressed out just from the travel. It's been a fabulous trip - don't get me wrong, but carrying my now 75 pound shoulder bag everywhere (anyone need a bottle of water, turkey jerkey, trail mix, bandaid, hand sanitizer, book, anything anything? I've got it right here... somewhere) didn't help my head/neck/shoulder/back issues. This morning (it's only 7AM now, so it must've been around 5 or so) I woke up with the pain that just wouldn't go away. I started massaging my temples and jaw, sutures on top of my head, digging my fingers into C3 and C4, putting my hands over my ears, especially my loudly ringing left ear, but nothing helped. Finally I stopped, and said, "I now open my head up and am relaxing and letting everything flow through me smoothly. I am in perfect health, and feel great," then promptly fell asleep. I haven't sleep for the past two nights, so this in itself was a minor miracle, but I think the bigger miracle is that I'm awake now (albeit still tired) but the pain in my head is greatly diminished. I keep reminding myself and the Universe that I am in perfect health, and tune in to see if I'm holding my jaw tight from stress or if I'm still relaxed (sometimes stressed but can relax it pretty easily).
I think of my friend Gail who's having bad dreams, and Melissa, who hasn't been able to sleep, and everyone else who's sensitive and experiencing all sorts of stuff right now - anxiety, depression, resentment, fear, anger, restlessness, and I send out a big burst of love and support and encouragement right now. Just keep breathing and walking through this current time - it's like that little part in the Everest ride where you get to the broken track and wonder where you're going to go next. You can't go forward, till you feel the car moving backward. Sure, it's scary, and sure, you're now moving BACKWARDS, but you get to your destination eventually, just not in the way that you thought you would. You got there by another route, but you kept going. The only way out is through - of whatever you're going through right now. We're all moving toward our reunion with ourselves and our memories and our consciousness, and I know it's going to be fabulous - THAT I've never doubted, even if I HAVE doubted the route I'm taking to get there. Does it have to be this bumpy? This up and down? This scary? But I chose it for a reason, even if I don't consciously know why. I just HAVE to trust in the bigger picture, so I DO, and I keep walking, making sure to keep noticing and acknowledging the sweet little miracles that continuously pop up all over the place, like my lessened headache. Okay, so that's a BIG miracle for me right now - man, that sucker can really hurt! Now see if you can refrain from singing Barry Manilow for the rest of the day. C'mon, I double dog dare you! {a true blue spectacle, a miracle come true... la la la}
Monday, March 1, 2010
deja vu all over again
I'd always wanted to swim with dolphins. Since I was seven years old and visiting Granny Meyer in Miami, seeing a pod of them (are they called pods?) jumping out in the distance. I remember something of me ached then - actually I wanted to BE out there with them, jumping, diving and swimming with them. Maybe I thought I WAS a dolphin. Looking back on different childhood thoughts, I now realize some of those thoughts probably weren't too 'normal,' but were definitely "Susie" thoughts that make sense to me as an adult.
So this trip I made sure to book our dolphin experience, and thought for sure I'd be moved to tears by the beauty of it all, but oddly enough, when I waded into the water and saw Dixie the Dolphin swimming toward me, that big dolphin smile on her face, I felt that something deep inside of me again, but this time it was a memory. I can't quite grasp the memory, but being there yesterday brought something full circle. When I touched Dixie's back, I know I'd not only gotten a ride with the dolphins, holding onto their fins, but had ridden on their backs. I don't know how I know that - I just remember that part of it. I also remember being underwater for a really long long time (aka "Whale Rider") without needing to breathe air. I breathed, but it was somehow a mix of air with the water. I don't even know what I'm saying as I'm typing this, I only know this is part of my memory. I felt Dixie's warm tail, and I remember hugging a warm dolphin, her rubbery body as familiar as my own. How could this be? I'd never done it. Right - THIS lifetime. My first thought was "Lemuria" maybe Atlantis - I don't even know anymore, as all of this is blurring together into one feeling in my body. I felt it again today as we pulled up to our condo in Naples and smelled the ocean air. I've smelled it countless times before this, but this time I felt like I was somewhere else, smelling this smell, only this time it was my Home. Again, I don't know what it means, but it means something different this time around, and I'm glad I'm where I am in my understandings so I can feel it in this new way, and maybe get more information about the bigger picture. Because at the end of the day, I'm always interested in the bigger picture.
I wonder what else I'll be feeling in a different way? I wonder if it has anything to do with these absolutely strange, bizarre dreams in the midst of restless nights with disturbed sleep patterns? Probably, most likely. I'm just riding the waves, my friend, these days, keeping my eyes wide open and walking boldly through my fears. So far it's working, and I feel myself expanding with every brave act. It's about time, perfect timing at the perfect time. Besides, what is deja vu but that new kind of time we now find ourselves increasingly experiencing? It's deja vu all over again... and again... and...
So this trip I made sure to book our dolphin experience, and thought for sure I'd be moved to tears by the beauty of it all, but oddly enough, when I waded into the water and saw Dixie the Dolphin swimming toward me, that big dolphin smile on her face, I felt that something deep inside of me again, but this time it was a memory. I can't quite grasp the memory, but being there yesterday brought something full circle. When I touched Dixie's back, I know I'd not only gotten a ride with the dolphins, holding onto their fins, but had ridden on their backs. I don't know how I know that - I just remember that part of it. I also remember being underwater for a really long long time (aka "Whale Rider") without needing to breathe air. I breathed, but it was somehow a mix of air with the water. I don't even know what I'm saying as I'm typing this, I only know this is part of my memory. I felt Dixie's warm tail, and I remember hugging a warm dolphin, her rubbery body as familiar as my own. How could this be? I'd never done it. Right - THIS lifetime. My first thought was "Lemuria" maybe Atlantis - I don't even know anymore, as all of this is blurring together into one feeling in my body. I felt it again today as we pulled up to our condo in Naples and smelled the ocean air. I've smelled it countless times before this, but this time I felt like I was somewhere else, smelling this smell, only this time it was my Home. Again, I don't know what it means, but it means something different this time around, and I'm glad I'm where I am in my understandings so I can feel it in this new way, and maybe get more information about the bigger picture. Because at the end of the day, I'm always interested in the bigger picture.
I wonder what else I'll be feeling in a different way? I wonder if it has anything to do with these absolutely strange, bizarre dreams in the midst of restless nights with disturbed sleep patterns? Probably, most likely. I'm just riding the waves, my friend, these days, keeping my eyes wide open and walking boldly through my fears. So far it's working, and I feel myself expanding with every brave act. It's about time, perfect timing at the perfect time. Besides, what is deja vu but that new kind of time we now find ourselves increasingly experiencing? It's deja vu all over again... and again... and...
Sunday, February 28, 2010
I don't wanna miss a thing
Apparently my website blog is inaccessible, so I'm writing in here again after a year and a half. That's okay, because I was redoing my whole website, anyway.
I realize I've become increasingly afraid for the past five years. Event after event would render me further paralyzed. First afraid for my children, then afraid of disease, superbugs, hospitals, prostates, aches and pains, jabs under my fingers, airplanes, germs, until I'm just afraid all the time. So it was no surprise that when we went to Disneyworld, I found myself game to go on all the rides with Bill, but also accepting that I shut my eyes tight at every turn. It's like that childhood "If I hide under the covers nothing bad can get me." It worked - I have effectively symbolically been hiding under my covers for a long, long time.
Standing in line at the Aerosmith rollercoaster ride at Hollywood Studios, the man in front of us heard me said I'm going to close my eyes for the whole ride. "But then you miss life!" he says enthusiastically. I lamely explain life's difficulties for the past five years (just saying it's been rough), but he's not having any of it. "Don't close your eyes!" he says as we sit down and get strapped into the car-looking car. Yes, my eyes are closed, as I hear the narrator say, "Hang on - 3-2-1..." and the car takes off at about 50 mph into the darkness. Yes, I keep my eyes closed for about 5 seconds, but then I hear the man's voice saying, "...but then you miss life!" so I open my eyes, and feel a surge of ... trust flow through my body from the top down. I get tears in my eyes, and I feel strangely protected and safe, careening 100 mph through the dark, twisting and going upside down. It's all out of my control, but I trust that it's going to be okay.
I scream at Bill, "Bill! I've got my eyes open!" I don't think he cares - why should he? He's got his eyes wide open all the time. We get to the end of the ride and I look for our pictures. WHAT? My eyes are shut! "I thought you said you opened your eyes!" the man who'd sat in front of us said. "But I DID! Honest!" I protest. Then I look more closely. They must've taken the shot right at the beginning when I DID have my eyes closed. Bill and the man's daughter have scared looks on their faces, but mine? I have a serene smile on my face, like I'm very very happy and calm. So I guess it's a start - maybe I need to gradually open my eyes to my life a little at a time, but hey - as long as I'm happy, I'll take that for now. After all, I don't wanna miss a thing...
I realize I've become increasingly afraid for the past five years. Event after event would render me further paralyzed. First afraid for my children, then afraid of disease, superbugs, hospitals, prostates, aches and pains, jabs under my fingers, airplanes, germs, until I'm just afraid all the time. So it was no surprise that when we went to Disneyworld, I found myself game to go on all the rides with Bill, but also accepting that I shut my eyes tight at every turn. It's like that childhood "If I hide under the covers nothing bad can get me." It worked - I have effectively symbolically been hiding under my covers for a long, long time.
Standing in line at the Aerosmith rollercoaster ride at Hollywood Studios, the man in front of us heard me said I'm going to close my eyes for the whole ride. "But then you miss life!" he says enthusiastically. I lamely explain life's difficulties for the past five years (just saying it's been rough), but he's not having any of it. "Don't close your eyes!" he says as we sit down and get strapped into the car-looking car. Yes, my eyes are closed, as I hear the narrator say, "Hang on - 3-2-1..." and the car takes off at about 50 mph into the darkness. Yes, I keep my eyes closed for about 5 seconds, but then I hear the man's voice saying, "...but then you miss life!" so I open my eyes, and feel a surge of ... trust flow through my body from the top down. I get tears in my eyes, and I feel strangely protected and safe, careening 100 mph through the dark, twisting and going upside down. It's all out of my control, but I trust that it's going to be okay.
I scream at Bill, "Bill! I've got my eyes open!" I don't think he cares - why should he? He's got his eyes wide open all the time. We get to the end of the ride and I look for our pictures. WHAT? My eyes are shut! "I thought you said you opened your eyes!" the man who'd sat in front of us said. "But I DID! Honest!" I protest. Then I look more closely. They must've taken the shot right at the beginning when I DID have my eyes closed. Bill and the man's daughter have scared looks on their faces, but mine? I have a serene smile on my face, like I'm very very happy and calm. So I guess it's a start - maybe I need to gradually open my eyes to my life a little at a time, but hey - as long as I'm happy, I'll take that for now. After all, I don't wanna miss a thing...
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
my blog's on my website
I've officially transferred my blog over to my website at www.susanekberg.com. Check it out - you can even leave comments (and I DO love comments!). New - the nutrition page. New recipes every week, and updated events. So much so much!!!
Saturday, November 8, 2008
oh what a tangled web...
this website, techno stuff. Don't get me wrong. My new website is absolutely stunning (check it out at www.susanekberg.com). I wanted a fresh look, incorporating what's important in my life - health, nutrition, current events, events in the community, recipes, and my own work and services. It's all such fun - typing in recipes, doing my blog, typing the events and news items. But I still wonder where it's all leading. I'm heading in four different directions right now, and I don't think I can do ALL of them, but I just don't know ... yet. So I keep doing the work, trusting that I'll know what to do when the time comes. At least I'm glad that this current energy thing has lifted, or that we've walked through it. It was intense! I've heard from a good friend that her husband has liver cancer, and another is leaving her husband, and another is moving from the state, and this is just this past week. Changes changes everywhere and not a stable moment anywhere, it seems. But it's okay, really. It's just that I'm craving sugar, well, mostly chocolate, but at least I'm walking every day, but I notice this phenomenon, and I wonder what it means - is it because the weather is turning, and I find comfort in chocolate? Well, duh, but besides that, what IS it? Lack of sunshine? Lack of forward movement, even though it's slow? I know Steve feels the same way, okay, almost everyone I know feels the same way, so we're in this together, but it still sucks sometimes. But again, it's all good - I know I'll be just fine, just like I know you'll be just fine. I think if I didn't have my work, I'd be a hurting unit. Because when I'm working, and in that beautiful peaceful still place, I KNOW. The trick is to remember that I'm always in that place, even when I'm NOT working - that's the trick. So tonight I take deep breaths, watch iCarly goes to Japan with Bill, then travel west to Dad's until Wednesday. Fun times, good times, family times. I'll try not to worry about anything, or plan anything, or think beyond this next moment. But sometimes that's hard to do - I just like to KNOW, you know?
But at least the website's up and running. Baby steps, baby steps. Today, my website, tomorrow, that project, or maybe that other thing that's in the works, then all of my writing projects and nutrition program. On and on and on. Maybe I'll just drink my green tea and watch "Ugly Betty."
But at least the website's up and running. Baby steps, baby steps. Today, my website, tomorrow, that project, or maybe that other thing that's in the works, then all of my writing projects and nutrition program. On and on and on. Maybe I'll just drink my green tea and watch "Ugly Betty."
Friday, November 7, 2008
a little Rusty
I wrote this piece early this morning. It was simple. It was direct. But it is not what I wanted to say. Well, maybe it was one side of what I wanted to say, but this is another side that I will leave on my blog. What I want to say is that things aren't black and white - they are all shades of gray. And although both Steve and I are 99% easygoing, when that 1% falls in opposite corners, the fur flies. That's how it's always been, and I know this, but it's interesting that it keeps coming up. Over and over again. Yes, they are all wonderful opportunities to look at unfinished business, but sometimes, just sometimes, I'd like it just to be easy. But how could it necessarily be easy when you're in close community with a husband, 4 children, two dogs, one fish, two hermit crabs, one turtle and one cat? On some levels, yes, we can MAKE our lives easy, but it's complex, those webs of connection between us all. How do we treat each other? How do we see each other? What makes us stay?
So I wanted to talk about our elderly dog Rusty who is in a lot of pain, and I wanted to talk about the difficult decisions around the end of his life, and how we all want that to look. And about how we all see things differently. And that's okay. The key seems to be how to all live with those decisions.
So I wanted to talk about our elderly dog Rusty who is in a lot of pain, and I wanted to talk about the difficult decisions around the end of his life, and how we all want that to look. And about how we all see things differently. And that's okay. The key seems to be how to all live with those decisions.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
vespers
Every night Bill and I bow our heads, clasp our hands in front of our eyes, and say our prayers. He usually wants me to start, and I launch into a lengthy dissertation, starting with praying for our family, for Bapa, for my sisters and their families, for Steve's sister and brother and their families, for our friends, neighbors, on and on as the circle of love widens. Then I start in on being thankful for good food on the table, warm clothes on our backs, and a roof over our heads. We pray for the heads of the governments around the world, and we pray that the sick people be made well, that scared people feel not scared anymore, that hurt people be healed, and that angry people find happiness. It really takes about 5 minutes every night.
Last night I was tired, so as we lie there, with our eyes closed and our hands clasped, I asked Bill to start. Okay, he said. I smiled. I couldn't wait to hear his sweet prayer. I bet he'd go on and on, kind of like my standard prayer, but with that creative Bill twist he's known for. Maybe he'd be thankful for brownies ("Brownies are God" was his profound statement when he was 2). I just didn't know. I waited. He hesitated a moment, then opened his mouth, and out came his prayer.
"Thanks, God. Amen."
Last night I was tired, so as we lie there, with our eyes closed and our hands clasped, I asked Bill to start. Okay, he said. I smiled. I couldn't wait to hear his sweet prayer. I bet he'd go on and on, kind of like my standard prayer, but with that creative Bill twist he's known for. Maybe he'd be thankful for brownies ("Brownies are God" was his profound statement when he was 2). I just didn't know. I waited. He hesitated a moment, then opened his mouth, and out came his prayer.
"Thanks, God. Amen."
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
amazingly beautiful
I really don't care who you voted for. I won't tell you who I voted for. But this morning when I woke up and started reading all of the election results, I was moved to tears (I know what you're thinking - I'm ALWAYS moved to tears, but this is a TRUE moved to tears) to see most of my friends make it back into their seats in North Dakota. And as I read what Obama says about being a UNITED States of America, and hear John McCain talk about this historic time, and how he urges everyone to HELP Obama heal our broken nation, well, I'm just so proud to be an American that I'm stupidly tearing up again. In fact, I've been humming that tune for the last two days, "... where at least I know I'm free, and I won't forget the men who died that gave that right to me..." Again, whether or not you believe all that loyal mumbo-jumbo, that's not the point. We're here, people - we've turned a corner. It's not about losing half your portfolio, or being scared about the future. WE CAN DO THIS. I just know we can. I have not a shred of doubt in my whole body.
I think if we all get down on our knees and pray, or sit our butts down in our chairs and meditate, or send healing white light to everyone else in the world, heck, even to the world herself, we've got momentum. It's not good to just sit back and bite our nails or wring our hands and say, "oh oh oh oh." Let's get out there and watch our thoughts - make somebody happy today with a kind smile or word or hand on the shoulder - tell somebody it's going to be okay - donate to the Red Cross or New Life Center - sign up to serve at Churches United - DO SOMETHING. I think it's time we got off our butts (okay, I may just be talking about myself, although I HAVE been doing a lot of great things, and have some great things in the works, but I'm still in progress) and showed the world what we believe in, what we're made of, and just DO IT. It's the "Nike" time right now - movement is finally possible after all of these months (years?) of sitting still in the water. So what will I do about it? I've written up a proposal for some independent work for an organization I dearly love, and will wait to hear if I'll be helping them out. I'm formulating my game plan for some work I'll be starting in 3 years, I'm opening myself up to being the chair of another organization that I believe in, and that will lead to more wonderful opportunities, I just know. I can feel it.
So even if the rain/snow/sleet is coming down, even if thunder and lightning looms, my heart is excited and open and happy and I just can't wait to see what today brings, and tomorrow brings. More of this relieved movement, I'm thinking.
I think if we all get down on our knees and pray, or sit our butts down in our chairs and meditate, or send healing white light to everyone else in the world, heck, even to the world herself, we've got momentum. It's not good to just sit back and bite our nails or wring our hands and say, "oh oh oh oh." Let's get out there and watch our thoughts - make somebody happy today with a kind smile or word or hand on the shoulder - tell somebody it's going to be okay - donate to the Red Cross or New Life Center - sign up to serve at Churches United - DO SOMETHING. I think it's time we got off our butts (okay, I may just be talking about myself, although I HAVE been doing a lot of great things, and have some great things in the works, but I'm still in progress) and showed the world what we believe in, what we're made of, and just DO IT. It's the "Nike" time right now - movement is finally possible after all of these months (years?) of sitting still in the water. So what will I do about it? I've written up a proposal for some independent work for an organization I dearly love, and will wait to hear if I'll be helping them out. I'm formulating my game plan for some work I'll be starting in 3 years, I'm opening myself up to being the chair of another organization that I believe in, and that will lead to more wonderful opportunities, I just know. I can feel it.
So even if the rain/snow/sleet is coming down, even if thunder and lightning looms, my heart is excited and open and happy and I just can't wait to see what today brings, and tomorrow brings. More of this relieved movement, I'm thinking.
Monday, November 3, 2008
heaven
It's been 4 months today that Mom died. I feel like I'm drifting away from that time, so sometimes I revisit those final hours and see if it still hurts, see if I still cry. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. Yesterday a memory hit me so forcefully I had to lie down for a while and just take deep breaths and walk right through it. It was right after Mom died. Peggy and Dad went into the family waiting room to wait for Zanthe from the church to come down. I sat with Mom for a while, then wandered out into the hallway right in front of the nurse's station. All of a sudden I couldn't walk anymore, and slid down the front of the nurse's desk and curled into a ball, hugging my knees, rocking back and forth. They couldn't see me from behind, so I thought I was semi-safe, but at that point I didn't really care. It's amazing what you do when you're in deep grief. You cry in front of anyone, without shame or embarrassment, you squat down and curl into a ball in public, whatever - open season on public displays of embarrassing behavior.
As I'm rocking I feel someone squat down next to me and put their arms around me. I feel someone's head touch the side of mine, and I hear someone whispering, "It's okay, it's okay. I know, it's so hard. It's okay, just cry. It's okay." I didn't know who it was, but I was crying too hard to even care to look up. I thought that was pretty nice of whoever it was, and they didn't try to say anything, really, just sit there with me and keep their arms around me. Note to self: when you're trying to comfort someone who's in a lot of pain, just sit there with them and hold their hand, or put an arm around them, or hold them. Don't say anything.
The mystery comforter eventually got up and left. I had no idea who it was. When I was partially composed, I stood up, wiped my nose on my sleeve (okay, another public display of embarrassing behavior, but not as embarrassing as what was running down my face), and asked the nurses who was there with me. "Trudy," they said. Trudy? Trudy was the nurse that some of my sisters thought had had a little lack of bedside manners, yet she was the one who had sat with me. I dried my eyes and went back into Mom's room to help the nurses get her ready for the funeral home. Leading the team? Trudy.
I can't say "Happy 4 month Anniversary, Mom" because it certainly isn't happy in the traditional sense, so I just acknowledge this day - four months at 12:40PM, Mom, since you started your new adventure. I want to tell you that now it's starting to seem like a dream that you were ever alive, that you were ever here, and I look at pictures of you, and it seems like another life, like there's a big block of wood between that time and this time, and maybe that's the way it's supposed to be, I don't know. I only know that I still miss you, and that I'm so glad we were together this lifetime, for almost 48 years. Thank you. Oh, and isn't heaven just like I thought? I thought it would be - hope you're having fun. I'll see you in my dreams. Love - #5
Friday, October 31, 2008
Isaiah
I've talked to Bill about mean people. I tell him that if someone is nice, they will be kind to you. If someone loves themselves, they won't call you names. Don't be bothered by those people - consider that they may have a sad family life, or hard circumstances. We just don't know. But we certainly know it isn't about US. Yesterday at the park I heard Bill getting upset. I walked over and he was talking loudly to a little boy. The boy had called him a very unkind name. We've trained Bill in what to say.
Here's how it goes:
Stranger: You're stupid (or whatever - pick an unkind name)
Bill: That's your opinion, and it's my opinion that you're rude
Stranger: That was really stupid
Bill: And that's still your opinion - see how that works?
Or something like that. So I said, "Say it, Bill," and he did, albeit through deep breaths and starts and stops. I looked over at the other boy. He was frowning and standing apart from everyone else. He said Bill had called HIM a name, and on. You know the drill. The playground supervisor made the boy apologize, but still he stayed apart from everyone else, long after Bill had joined his two other friends and were off laughing. Don't get me wrong - I was mad. Kids always find something different about other kids then tease them about it - whatever "it" is. Everyone has their "its" so it doesn't make any sense to me. Still, I walked over to the boy and asked him his name. Isaiah, he said.
"What grade are you in?"
He told me.
"Who's your teacher?"
He told me, looking at me a little sideways. We talked a little more, I said good-bye and joined Bill.
Today I brought Halloween cookies to Bill's class for the Halloween party. As I walked down the hall I heard someone say, "Hi, Bill's mom!" I turned around.
"Isaiah!" I said, and gave him a hug. He gave me a big hug back, smiled, then walked away. Amazing. I'm just grateful that I was open enough to see the gift behind the dark, brooding look and unkind words. There's an angel in there. Maybe in some small way I helped Isaiah remember that, and remember who he really is.
Here's how it goes:
Stranger: You're stupid (or whatever - pick an unkind name)
Bill: That's your opinion, and it's my opinion that you're rude
Stranger: That was really stupid
Bill: And that's still your opinion - see how that works?
Or something like that. So I said, "Say it, Bill," and he did, albeit through deep breaths and starts and stops. I looked over at the other boy. He was frowning and standing apart from everyone else. He said Bill had called HIM a name, and on. You know the drill. The playground supervisor made the boy apologize, but still he stayed apart from everyone else, long after Bill had joined his two other friends and were off laughing. Don't get me wrong - I was mad. Kids always find something different about other kids then tease them about it - whatever "it" is. Everyone has their "its" so it doesn't make any sense to me. Still, I walked over to the boy and asked him his name. Isaiah, he said.
"What grade are you in?"
He told me.
"Who's your teacher?"
He told me, looking at me a little sideways. We talked a little more, I said good-bye and joined Bill.
Today I brought Halloween cookies to Bill's class for the Halloween party. As I walked down the hall I heard someone say, "Hi, Bill's mom!" I turned around.
"Isaiah!" I said, and gave him a hug. He gave me a big hug back, smiled, then walked away. Amazing. I'm just grateful that I was open enough to see the gift behind the dark, brooding look and unkind words. There's an angel in there. Maybe in some small way I helped Isaiah remember that, and remember who he really is.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
the Queen of Common Sense? Not
I had a little time after my client this morning, so I stopped in to see the cute new shop across the street fro the HoDo (sorry, I can't remember its name). I bought the CUTEST little pepper spray in a leather case with a peace sign on it. I drove home, then read the instructions. They encouraged you to give it a test run so you'd know how to work it in an emergency. I pulled into the garage, opened my car door, and sprayed a jet across the garage into the rack of winter survival gear. Oopsy, I thought, but that's okay - it will clear up before winter flies and I need to put the stuff in the back of my car. Then something hit my lungs and I started coughing, then my eyes started tearing up and I couldn't breathe. I jumped out of my car, opened up both garage doors and slammed the house door shut behind me.
I called Steve and said, "Please don't be angry with me," and he took a deep breath. Unfortunately, those words are not new to his ears. "I'll try not to be," he answered honestly. I told him what had happened, and the workmen who were standing there couldn't stop snickering. Yah, hip hop hilarious, guys. Steve made sure I hadn't sprayed it onto his hunting stuff, or everything would be able to smell him a mile off. I hadn't (I don't think). Then he said to leave the garage doors open for the rest of the day and not let Bill in there at all (he's got this nasty little cough that just won't go away). I think Steve sounded a bit miffed when he said good-bye, but I may be imagining it.
Queen of Common Sense? Okay, not so much, but my heart's in the right place. At least now I know how to protect myself, and hopefully if I need to use the cute pepper spray it won't be in a garage!
I called Steve and said, "Please don't be angry with me," and he took a deep breath. Unfortunately, those words are not new to his ears. "I'll try not to be," he answered honestly. I told him what had happened, and the workmen who were standing there couldn't stop snickering. Yah, hip hop hilarious, guys. Steve made sure I hadn't sprayed it onto his hunting stuff, or everything would be able to smell him a mile off. I hadn't (I don't think). Then he said to leave the garage doors open for the rest of the day and not let Bill in there at all (he's got this nasty little cough that just won't go away). I think Steve sounded a bit miffed when he said good-bye, but I may be imagining it.
Queen of Common Sense? Okay, not so much, but my heart's in the right place. At least now I know how to protect myself, and hopefully if I need to use the cute pepper spray it won't be in a garage!
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
standing on the chair
I talked with John today, and he made me cry - twice. Am I mad at him? On the contrary, I am so grateful to be inspired by him. What made me cry? The first thing was that he said whenever he talks to people he stands on a chair, be it sturdy or wobbly or on wheels. He speaks about sometimes realizing you're standing on a chair, and that it's a precarious place to be, because it isn't sturdy, and you feel scared because you're all alone, and then you can become a target. I know he's personally been a target about several things he's stood up for when nobody else would. When he talked about being a target, the tears stung my eyes (yes, tears actually CAN sting). He said, "That's what your whole too-tall Susie thing is about - you're naturally standing on a chair your whole life," and I realize that's true. I would use the phrase "out on a limb all by myself" as I stood alone for almost 20 years in the spiritual community, withstanding blows from various factions and corners, withstanding the wind that shook that branch and threatened to knock me off the tree, all to make it safe and acceptable for everyone to be exactly who they are, no matter how different or new it may be, and I think I've accomplished that. So ... same feeling, different symbolism.
Then he said that what got him through some really tough times (I'm trusting it's okay for me to tell this story) was the absolute certainty that he would be taken care of, no matter what his circumstances looked like on the outside. And times WERE rough for him, and he did worry, but he WAS taken care of. He said it developed a real deep knowing and spirituality inside of him, so I looked at my own life, and my current situation, and what I've been through, and yes, I am well aware that things could always be much worse, but it's been pretty rough for about the last 5 years. Health issues involving my oldest son, mother, and husband. Health issues involving me, work-related hurts (now well healed, thank you), transitions, endings. No different than any of you, I know, but add it all up, and it can get pretty overwhelming.
But just sitting there listening to John, I knew he understands a lot, and he wanted me to know that he understands, and I KNOW that he understands. He's been through a lot, and keeps on going because he knows what he's here to do, and he does it. It isn't an easy job, just as mine isn't, just as yours isn't, but we keep going, because that's the only option. So while I walk, it DOES help to think of that image of being a chair stander, and what that means for me and my life. How has making that choice affected me? How has it helped me to grow into who I am today? I know it's meant everything, even if sometimes I question why in the world I'd choose that harder road when I'm sure there are so many other simpier options out there? I have no idea, I just know that I said yes a LONG time ago, and although I don't regret it, there ARE some days when I'm simply amazed at the whole idea of my life and what I've chosen to do this time around, and sometimes I just have to stand still for a moment and shake my head a little in amazement. The things we do...
Then he said that what got him through some really tough times (I'm trusting it's okay for me to tell this story) was the absolute certainty that he would be taken care of, no matter what his circumstances looked like on the outside. And times WERE rough for him, and he did worry, but he WAS taken care of. He said it developed a real deep knowing and spirituality inside of him, so I looked at my own life, and my current situation, and what I've been through, and yes, I am well aware that things could always be much worse, but it's been pretty rough for about the last 5 years. Health issues involving my oldest son, mother, and husband. Health issues involving me, work-related hurts (now well healed, thank you), transitions, endings. No different than any of you, I know, but add it all up, and it can get pretty overwhelming.
But just sitting there listening to John, I knew he understands a lot, and he wanted me to know that he understands, and I KNOW that he understands. He's been through a lot, and keeps on going because he knows what he's here to do, and he does it. It isn't an easy job, just as mine isn't, just as yours isn't, but we keep going, because that's the only option. So while I walk, it DOES help to think of that image of being a chair stander, and what that means for me and my life. How has making that choice affected me? How has it helped me to grow into who I am today? I know it's meant everything, even if sometimes I question why in the world I'd choose that harder road when I'm sure there are so many other simpier options out there? I have no idea, I just know that I said yes a LONG time ago, and although I don't regret it, there ARE some days when I'm simply amazed at the whole idea of my life and what I've chosen to do this time around, and sometimes I just have to stand still for a moment and shake my head a little in amazement. The things we do...
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
a favor, please
It's always hard to do, but I'm asking that if anyone has a free minute, to just send me and our house and family some good, high frequency energy. I'll do the same for you - just ask. I think we're here to help each other, and mostly I try to help everyone else, so it's always a touch harder to ask for something, but I just am, so thank you if you're able to help. It is greatly appreciated.
It is a beautiful, sunny day, and I try to keep my mind focused on all of the good, wonderful, fabulous things, and that helps a lot. I try to keep breathing deeply and not go into any kind of fear or doubt place, but sometimes it gets hard. I think it's partly the season change, and partly the sun shifting in the sky. I really have to watch out for season affective disorder. I hadn't even thought about it in years (I used to use a light box from October through May), but Sunday when it was cloudy, I cried, then Monday when it was sunny, I was singing and lighthearted and happy. Combine that with the grieving of Mom, and some other stuff thrown in, and wow - it gets difficult to just float lightly on top of those waves, but that is what I choose and call to my life - love and goodness and everything else in our Highest Good.
We make choices every moment of our days, whether we'll be angry, or mad, or happy, or sad, or scared, or ecstatic. Is that darned glass half empty of half full? Today the glass just IS, if that makes sense, but that's about the best I can muster. Some days I think I am just capable of anything and other days it's a challenge to get anything done. I'm proud that I keep going, like I said at my spa party. I just never give up, and I'm proud of that, but sometimes it also feels like I'm spinning plates, then I get tired and wonder WHY I wanted to spin plates in the first place, and why I chose so darned many plates to spin, anyway. Why didn't I take up lion taming or tightrope walking? Oh, I guess I do those things, too. I forgot!
It is a beautiful, sunny day, and I try to keep my mind focused on all of the good, wonderful, fabulous things, and that helps a lot. I try to keep breathing deeply and not go into any kind of fear or doubt place, but sometimes it gets hard. I think it's partly the season change, and partly the sun shifting in the sky. I really have to watch out for season affective disorder. I hadn't even thought about it in years (I used to use a light box from October through May), but Sunday when it was cloudy, I cried, then Monday when it was sunny, I was singing and lighthearted and happy. Combine that with the grieving of Mom, and some other stuff thrown in, and wow - it gets difficult to just float lightly on top of those waves, but that is what I choose and call to my life - love and goodness and everything else in our Highest Good.
We make choices every moment of our days, whether we'll be angry, or mad, or happy, or sad, or scared, or ecstatic. Is that darned glass half empty of half full? Today the glass just IS, if that makes sense, but that's about the best I can muster. Some days I think I am just capable of anything and other days it's a challenge to get anything done. I'm proud that I keep going, like I said at my spa party. I just never give up, and I'm proud of that, but sometimes it also feels like I'm spinning plates, then I get tired and wonder WHY I wanted to spin plates in the first place, and why I chose so darned many plates to spin, anyway. Why didn't I take up lion taming or tightrope walking? Oh, I guess I do those things, too. I forgot!
Monday, October 27, 2008
B. Lava
Okay, I love you all, but I don't know if this video is appropriate, but it really warms my heart. It's a Bollywood-type music video that somebody listened to phonetically and wrote alternative English lyrics. It's hilarious, but there ARE some inappropriate lyrics - I won't lie. But I must admit, I love quirky things and quirky people and quirky experiences. Always skewed, I am, I think. Kari helped me understand myself (and her) when she realized that we both love syncopated music - Ani diFranco, Styx, Sting, Dave Matthews. Still keeping the rhythm of the music, but always on the off-beat, not ON the beat. That's us, then, to be sure - offbeat, but still keeping time.
Our house smells fragrantly of boardinghouse meatloaf with shallot gravy and roasted potatoes. I admit - I love to cook; it calms me down and brings me great joy (if I say I love to iron, THEN you can worry). I'm really happy today, with the sun shining warm and beautiful. I met with Beth and saw the new library. My gosh, it's just amazing - I can hardly wait until it's done in 6 months. I'm hoping my business proposal with her pans out in some way - it just feels really right, although my client list is growing longer by the day. Writing, promoting, readings, oh my. But it's okay - I just keep going with the flow, trusting in where it will lead me, not worried about much of anything.
How are YOU feeling? I'm still a little tired, but mostly just happy and slow (if that makes sense). I look at my calendar and like the way it's shaping up - fun stuff, work stuff, friend stuff, and everything in between. Not too much of anything, but a great deal of YES. So it's Benny Lava and Green Leaves (don't ask - Korean men in diapers and green leaves pasted to the front) and some funky Indian guy doing some funky mudra stuff with his hands while he rocks out. Where do the kids find these You Tube videos? I don't have that much free time, but I'm glad they do - it makes me happy, that quirky stuff.
Our house smells fragrantly of boardinghouse meatloaf with shallot gravy and roasted potatoes. I admit - I love to cook; it calms me down and brings me great joy (if I say I love to iron, THEN you can worry). I'm really happy today, with the sun shining warm and beautiful. I met with Beth and saw the new library. My gosh, it's just amazing - I can hardly wait until it's done in 6 months. I'm hoping my business proposal with her pans out in some way - it just feels really right, although my client list is growing longer by the day. Writing, promoting, readings, oh my. But it's okay - I just keep going with the flow, trusting in where it will lead me, not worried about much of anything.
How are YOU feeling? I'm still a little tired, but mostly just happy and slow (if that makes sense). I look at my calendar and like the way it's shaping up - fun stuff, work stuff, friend stuff, and everything in between. Not too much of anything, but a great deal of YES. So it's Benny Lava and Green Leaves (don't ask - Korean men in diapers and green leaves pasted to the front) and some funky Indian guy doing some funky mudra stuff with his hands while he rocks out. Where do the kids find these You Tube videos? I don't have that much free time, but I'm glad they do - it makes me happy, that quirky stuff.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
finding meaning
Making eggrolls and fried rice (and sweet and sour sauce) - double batches
Baking the perfect double batch of chocolatey chippy cookies (light tan with slight crisp around the edges)
Passing out crayons for the kids at Sunday School
Consoling Bill when he feels picked on
Trying not to get too sad when I see the snow and see the wind flying
Cuddling Pooncie, even if she doesn't really remember me
Working on my LAST prerequisite nutrition course before I start on the Master's Program
Okay, I'm struggling here, folks - is it the approaching long winter that's got me feeling so slow? I can't tell you, but I'm not depressed, just moving slower, feeling more tired. My eyelids are half lidded again. I was up several times last night - a mildly upsetting e-mail put my brain in fast motion (not a new thing, believe me). How do we keep moving through our days? I think if I could look down on my life's path, it would look like a crazy emu dance, jumping and twirling and sliding and running, sometimes just lying there, motionless. All interesting. So on it goes, on this cloudy, windy windy day - I wonder what energy is being washed clean by the wind? I wonder what will get kicked up? I wonder what tomorrow will bring? Whatever, right? Right.
Baking the perfect double batch of chocolatey chippy cookies (light tan with slight crisp around the edges)
Passing out crayons for the kids at Sunday School
Consoling Bill when he feels picked on
Trying not to get too sad when I see the snow and see the wind flying
Cuddling Pooncie, even if she doesn't really remember me
Working on my LAST prerequisite nutrition course before I start on the Master's Program
Okay, I'm struggling here, folks - is it the approaching long winter that's got me feeling so slow? I can't tell you, but I'm not depressed, just moving slower, feeling more tired. My eyelids are half lidded again. I was up several times last night - a mildly upsetting e-mail put my brain in fast motion (not a new thing, believe me). How do we keep moving through our days? I think if I could look down on my life's path, it would look like a crazy emu dance, jumping and twirling and sliding and running, sometimes just lying there, motionless. All interesting. So on it goes, on this cloudy, windy windy day - I wonder what energy is being washed clean by the wind? I wonder what will get kicked up? I wonder what tomorrow will bring? Whatever, right? Right.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Bras and Breast Awareness
Ah, my cup runneth over (in more ways than one). Last night's Bras on Broadway did NOT disappoint. I met with 4 of my bestest Divine Goddesses, dressed in my fishnets and Stuart Weitzman pointy booties (okay, YES, the same outfit as last Saturday's Symphony Rocks the Hub, but with the total cost of the outfit, I'm going to have to wear it every DAY to get my cost-per-wearing to a reasonable number), grabbed a white Zin with the Con-Meister, and perused the art. I am SO going to buy the great poster of the bras, seeing as I didn't get top bid on anything (one bra was up to $700 - too rich for my blood). I wanted Renee Danz's green moss with pink peace symbols SO badly, but oh well - they're just bras, right?
Deb Jenkins is THEE coolest person EVER, seriously, and I totally jammed out all night. We fluked on a sponsor's table right up front, and the Danz's, Bobbie and Joan, Linda and Joel (new friends) all joined us. I ran into about a billion other friends, and I can't remember when I've been this happy and filled up - I LOVE PEOPLE!!!!! I don't know if I can have that many exclamation marks in a row, but who cares? Happy is happy, right? Karen Stoker spoke about all of us banding together to get yearly mammograms, and I'm proud to say I not only got my yearly mammo, but got a DIGITAL one at Innovis, which is a much clearer picture (still hurts, though - I'm not going to lie). I get my yearlies regularly now, and all because of Deb. About 7 years ago, I blew mine off, too much going on. I told Deb about it, and she called me the next morning and said, "I couldn't sleep at all last night, thinking about how you said you blew your mammo off. I won't sleep until you promise me you'll get one, and every year after that." I got tears in my eyes - no one had ever cared that much, and I promised her. What an amazing thing she did for me, and I'll never forget it. She's a breast cancer survivor (I'd forgotten that), and knows the importance of regular screening.
So October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, or as goofy Stevie puts it, BREAST AWARENESS MONTH - what an appropriate focus for the men in our lives, right? Just being AWARE of breasts? Not such a silly idea, I guess, now that I think of it. So, even though I'm not so keen on the whole pink ribbon concept, I'm glad we're all getting healthier, loving and caring for our bodies more, and most importantly, I'm glad to have Bras on Broadway to make my life that much sweeter and fun. Ah..............
Deb Jenkins is THEE coolest person EVER, seriously, and I totally jammed out all night. We fluked on a sponsor's table right up front, and the Danz's, Bobbie and Joan, Linda and Joel (new friends) all joined us. I ran into about a billion other friends, and I can't remember when I've been this happy and filled up - I LOVE PEOPLE!!!!! I don't know if I can have that many exclamation marks in a row, but who cares? Happy is happy, right? Karen Stoker spoke about all of us banding together to get yearly mammograms, and I'm proud to say I not only got my yearly mammo, but got a DIGITAL one at Innovis, which is a much clearer picture (still hurts, though - I'm not going to lie). I get my yearlies regularly now, and all because of Deb. About 7 years ago, I blew mine off, too much going on. I told Deb about it, and she called me the next morning and said, "I couldn't sleep at all last night, thinking about how you said you blew your mammo off. I won't sleep until you promise me you'll get one, and every year after that." I got tears in my eyes - no one had ever cared that much, and I promised her. What an amazing thing she did for me, and I'll never forget it. She's a breast cancer survivor (I'd forgotten that), and knows the importance of regular screening.
So October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, or as goofy Stevie puts it, BREAST AWARENESS MONTH - what an appropriate focus for the men in our lives, right? Just being AWARE of breasts? Not such a silly idea, I guess, now that I think of it. So, even though I'm not so keen on the whole pink ribbon concept, I'm glad we're all getting healthier, loving and caring for our bodies more, and most importantly, I'm glad to have Bras on Broadway to make my life that much sweeter and fun. Ah..............
Thursday, October 23, 2008
further reflections on spam
I have a sweet friend, Chris. We e-mail back and forth quite regularly. After yesterday's blog entry, she sent me an e-mail asking for clarification on some things I'd said. I thought I'd post part of what she said, and my response to her. I love this, don't you?
You said in your blog today ..."we are all inherently beautiful and perfect just as we are... and there is nothing that we need to improve upon" Okay, so here's how my mind works when I hear statements like these... they immediately go to the extreme examples of people like.... the sexual abusers and the serial killers and the Nazis and maybe Hitler and you get the idea....
and I think... well, hmmm.. some improvement there would be quite useful. So, I like the idea in theory and think of many many people that I could apply it to, but many that I couldn't. So, help me understand what you mean by this and how this statement applies to extremely violent and cruel people.
So I replied...
You always ask such great questions - they make me think and clarify my own thought processes. What I think is this: yes, we ARE all inherently perfect and beautiful just as we are, but we ALL need to sit with ourselves, get to know ourselves, and accept ourselves. I think violent and unhappy people are not too willing to do any of that work because they probably really hate themselves, think they're defective and inferior, and have no desire for self-exploration, self-acceptance, or self-love. They've probably gotten the message over and over again that there IS something wrong with them, and then they act it out on others, because they haven't explored any other options.
I've seen some pretty fabulous people who've grown up in horrendous environments, and vice versa. The difference? I think it's because these people take responsibility for their lives and their growth, and then they do the hard work necessary to heal whatever's hurt, and take active steps to make themselves happy, whether it's getting a new job, leaving a significant other, going to therapy, learning to meditate, asking forgiveness, or whatever. I think the basis of all "bad" behavior is that lack of self. Thanks for encouraging me to do some more self-examination of my views. Phew! Love - Anti-Spam or Auntie Spam
So, there you have it. If anybody has any questions, please feel free to e-mail me and ask them. If I have any questions for YOU, I'll do the same, okay? Because we're all in this together.
You said in your blog today ..."we are all inherently beautiful and perfect just as we are... and there is nothing that we need to improve upon" Okay, so here's how my mind works when I hear statements like these... they immediately go to the extreme examples of people like.... the sexual abusers and the serial killers and the Nazis and maybe Hitler and you get the idea....
and I think... well, hmmm.. some improvement there would be quite useful. So, I like the idea in theory and think of many many people that I could apply it to, but many that I couldn't. So, help me understand what you mean by this and how this statement applies to extremely violent and cruel people.
So I replied...
You always ask such great questions - they make me think and clarify my own thought processes. What I think is this: yes, we ARE all inherently perfect and beautiful just as we are, but we ALL need to sit with ourselves, get to know ourselves, and accept ourselves. I think violent and unhappy people are not too willing to do any of that work because they probably really hate themselves, think they're defective and inferior, and have no desire for self-exploration, self-acceptance, or self-love. They've probably gotten the message over and over again that there IS something wrong with them, and then they act it out on others, because they haven't explored any other options.
I've seen some pretty fabulous people who've grown up in horrendous environments, and vice versa. The difference? I think it's because these people take responsibility for their lives and their growth, and then they do the hard work necessary to heal whatever's hurt, and take active steps to make themselves happy, whether it's getting a new job, leaving a significant other, going to therapy, learning to meditate, asking forgiveness, or whatever. I think the basis of all "bad" behavior is that lack of self. Thanks for encouraging me to do some more self-examination of my views. Phew! Love - Anti-Spam or Auntie Spam
So, there you have it. If anybody has any questions, please feel free to e-mail me and ask them. If I have any questions for YOU, I'll do the same, okay? Because we're all in this together.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
spam
I wonder if that stands for anything. I know I can't stand for IT, so maybe that's the point. I go onto my e-mail account and delete about 50 spams before I even read what I want to read. Once you connect with one company, they not only send you daily 'important' e-mails, but they sell your address to 100 other companies for an undetermined amount of money, and you're a public commodity. You get the phone calls with the caller ID of "toll free" and it's a sure bet it's a sales call. You tell them you are on the 'do not call' list, and they tell you it's not a sales call, it's a 'courtesy call.'
In Japan you can't even call someone on the phone without a prior invitation. To come to someone's house unannounced or uninvited is the height of rudeness. How exactly did we get to the point that we can be invaded on all ports and others think it's their right to do it? I told one phone salesperson to put us on their do not call list and she hung up on me. I immediately called that number back, and when the new salesperson answered, I told her the same thing. She hung up on me, as well. One time a salesperson called and it was a recording (the height of rudeness). When I hung on to get the LIVE person, she answered, THEN hung up on me. A salesperson hanging up on ME? AFTER SHE called ME? I don't get it. I almost cancelled our home line, then I started getting spam texts on my CELL PHONE. Unbelievable. Don't get me wrong- it does bug me, but I'm not really all that angry. I am just trying to understand why people and companies and beliefs think they can be so invasive. Yes, shadow work calls to me, and I ask myself if I've ever been invasive, if I've ever invaded someone's life or home or boundaries by my pushiness. I'm sure the answer is yes, because everyone is everything, and does everything. But then what's the next step? I rarely send out mass e-mails anymore, and all of those were to people who ASKED to be on my list. I don't take advantage of it, I don't bombard people with my life (I don't think). I don't SPAM them. Spam is defined as "unsolicited bulk e-mail" or UBE. So there you go. But I would propose to expand the definition to include phone calls, forceful ideology (you HAVE to believe what I believe, or you're stupid - here, let me tell you what to believe).
I met with a client and we spent the entire time working on self-empowerment. What do YOU believe, who are YOU, what do YOU want to do, what do YOU think. This client kept asking ME what I thought, believed, who I thought THEY were, and I refused to answer. I also refused to have another session with them for a couple of months, to allow them to do some soul self-exploration. It finally came to me - the basis of all of my work isn't to TELL anybody what to do - it's to help give them tools to discover and unfold themselves. No expert can tell you who you are, no class or training or book or workshop or tv show or movie can do that. Maybe that's why I get so irked. I know I'm passionate about my work and about what I believe, but the core of my belief system is that we are all inherently beautiful and perfect, just as we are. There is nothing that we need to improve upon, nothing that we're inferior about. When we discover our inherent wholeness, THEN we can take some steps to improve something because we WANT to, not because we think we HAVE to.
So when I get these unwanted e-mails, phone calls and conversations from people telling ME what I HAVE to do (You HAVE to vote for Obama - McCain is the only reasonable choice, this supplement is THEE best, my spiritual viewpoints are the best, so listen to me and what I've done) I want to push back. I want to say, "I'll decide for myself who I think the best next President will be, and I'm not going to tell ANYONE, I'll experiment to see which supplements (if any) my body responds well to, and I think it's important to respect and support everyone's spiritual journey, because no one's path is Universal." Having said all of that, I happen to think my spiritual views ARE correct ... for me. I think the only REAL spiritual path is the one that leads us back to ourselves, and that's a totally unique and individual experience, so don't talk about the specific ROUTE, just tell me how to get in shape for the trip, how to understand where I'm going so I'LL know how to pack and what language I need to learn. Don't tell me I'll need Spanish, because I may be heading to France. Don't tell me to pack a winter coat because I may be heading for the Caribbean. Only I know for sure, so I wish we could all be respectful and supportive and inspiring. If I'm NOT, please let me know. I'm doing the best I can, but I know I get excited sometimes, just like everybody else. I get judgmental of others, and think that I'm lily white, and I know that's not true.
But do I spam people? I hope to gosh not. I want to be that welcomed e-mail you get, that smile on your face when you pick up the phone and hear me on the other end, the relief you experience when you open your door and I'm there with a batch of warm goopy rolls in my hand. I want to be the GOOD things in your life, although for Monty Python lovers, Spam IS a good thing...
In Japan you can't even call someone on the phone without a prior invitation. To come to someone's house unannounced or uninvited is the height of rudeness. How exactly did we get to the point that we can be invaded on all ports and others think it's their right to do it? I told one phone salesperson to put us on their do not call list and she hung up on me. I immediately called that number back, and when the new salesperson answered, I told her the same thing. She hung up on me, as well. One time a salesperson called and it was a recording (the height of rudeness). When I hung on to get the LIVE person, she answered, THEN hung up on me. A salesperson hanging up on ME? AFTER SHE called ME? I don't get it. I almost cancelled our home line, then I started getting spam texts on my CELL PHONE. Unbelievable. Don't get me wrong- it does bug me, but I'm not really all that angry. I am just trying to understand why people and companies and beliefs think they can be so invasive. Yes, shadow work calls to me, and I ask myself if I've ever been invasive, if I've ever invaded someone's life or home or boundaries by my pushiness. I'm sure the answer is yes, because everyone is everything, and does everything. But then what's the next step? I rarely send out mass e-mails anymore, and all of those were to people who ASKED to be on my list. I don't take advantage of it, I don't bombard people with my life (I don't think). I don't SPAM them. Spam is defined as "unsolicited bulk e-mail" or UBE. So there you go. But I would propose to expand the definition to include phone calls, forceful ideology (you HAVE to believe what I believe, or you're stupid - here, let me tell you what to believe).
I met with a client and we spent the entire time working on self-empowerment. What do YOU believe, who are YOU, what do YOU want to do, what do YOU think. This client kept asking ME what I thought, believed, who I thought THEY were, and I refused to answer. I also refused to have another session with them for a couple of months, to allow them to do some soul self-exploration. It finally came to me - the basis of all of my work isn't to TELL anybody what to do - it's to help give them tools to discover and unfold themselves. No expert can tell you who you are, no class or training or book or workshop or tv show or movie can do that. Maybe that's why I get so irked. I know I'm passionate about my work and about what I believe, but the core of my belief system is that we are all inherently beautiful and perfect, just as we are. There is nothing that we need to improve upon, nothing that we're inferior about. When we discover our inherent wholeness, THEN we can take some steps to improve something because we WANT to, not because we think we HAVE to.
So when I get these unwanted e-mails, phone calls and conversations from people telling ME what I HAVE to do (You HAVE to vote for Obama - McCain is the only reasonable choice, this supplement is THEE best, my spiritual viewpoints are the best, so listen to me and what I've done) I want to push back. I want to say, "I'll decide for myself who I think the best next President will be, and I'm not going to tell ANYONE, I'll experiment to see which supplements (if any) my body responds well to, and I think it's important to respect and support everyone's spiritual journey, because no one's path is Universal." Having said all of that, I happen to think my spiritual views ARE correct ... for me. I think the only REAL spiritual path is the one that leads us back to ourselves, and that's a totally unique and individual experience, so don't talk about the specific ROUTE, just tell me how to get in shape for the trip, how to understand where I'm going so I'LL know how to pack and what language I need to learn. Don't tell me I'll need Spanish, because I may be heading to France. Don't tell me to pack a winter coat because I may be heading for the Caribbean. Only I know for sure, so I wish we could all be respectful and supportive and inspiring. If I'm NOT, please let me know. I'm doing the best I can, but I know I get excited sometimes, just like everybody else. I get judgmental of others, and think that I'm lily white, and I know that's not true.
But do I spam people? I hope to gosh not. I want to be that welcomed e-mail you get, that smile on your face when you pick up the phone and hear me on the other end, the relief you experience when you open your door and I'm there with a batch of warm goopy rolls in my hand. I want to be the GOOD things in your life, although for Monty Python lovers, Spam IS a good thing...
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
wow...
I just got this e-mail from a woman, and she said I could share it on my blog, so here it is. The sole purpose of my writing, and probably of my whole life, is to help people as much as I am able. It really warms my heart to read this...
In 1992 I was in the first grade and lived with my mom and her abusive boyfriend. One night while my mom was being badly abused I sat down and "wrote a book." I remember now that I did this often as a child, to escape from the trauma in our house. But, for some reason, this time I showed my newest creation to my first grade teacher. She asked me if she could enter my book into a competition for young writers. I remember that we met you at the Buffalo Mall in Jamestown ND and my book was judged 2nd place for my category. I won an audio cassette, a feather and your signature! I listened to that tape everynight going to bed until I was 12 and my mom got re-married and had my sister. Then, I began to play it for her at night and sing it to her often. Because of our age difference she lives with my parents in Minneapolis and I live with my husband and son in Seattle. I still occasionaly sing the song to her over the phone (she is 9 now) and she sings it to my 9 month old son, as do I. I recently gave this tape to my sister and can't wait to get another copy of the tape (CD) and the book for myself and my son to use. I didn't really realize until recently how many times this book/song got me through tough times as a child. I THANK YOU... if this was what you intended to do as a writer than I consider you the single-most successful author I have ever read. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!
Feel welcome to share my story on your blog if you wish, i only ask that it be anonymous.
Thanks again for everything!
Thank you for that sweet e-mail, dear anonymous friend. I am so glad the tape helped you through some awful patches. It's amazing to me how much we send out to the Universe, and never hear back. It's okay not to hear back, but it really IS sweet when we DO hear back. Thank you thank you thank YOU...
In 1992 I was in the first grade and lived with my mom and her abusive boyfriend. One night while my mom was being badly abused I sat down and "wrote a book." I remember now that I did this often as a child, to escape from the trauma in our house. But, for some reason, this time I showed my newest creation to my first grade teacher. She asked me if she could enter my book into a competition for young writers. I remember that we met you at the Buffalo Mall in Jamestown ND and my book was judged 2nd place for my category. I won an audio cassette, a feather and your signature! I listened to that tape everynight going to bed until I was 12 and my mom got re-married and had my sister. Then, I began to play it for her at night and sing it to her often. Because of our age difference she lives with my parents in Minneapolis and I live with my husband and son in Seattle. I still occasionaly sing the song to her over the phone (she is 9 now) and she sings it to my 9 month old son, as do I. I recently gave this tape to my sister and can't wait to get another copy of the tape (CD) and the book for myself and my son to use. I didn't really realize until recently how many times this book/song got me through tough times as a child. I THANK YOU... if this was what you intended to do as a writer than I consider you the single-most successful author I have ever read. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!
Feel welcome to share my story on your blog if you wish, i only ask that it be anonymous.
Thanks again for everything!
Thank you for that sweet e-mail, dear anonymous friend. I am so glad the tape helped you through some awful patches. It's amazing to me how much we send out to the Universe, and never hear back. It's okay not to hear back, but it really IS sweet when we DO hear back. Thank you thank you thank YOU...
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