Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Hey, Star

Why not post another trippy thing for you to ponder? Here's something I came up with, and no, I don't use drugs.

The Big Bang happened, right, and all that matter shot out into a black void and created the Universe: stars, planets, you-name-it. Here on Earth things boiled for a while, then steamed and eventually out of all that primordial heat came life. We slithered, crawled, walked on all fours and became walkin' talkin' bipeds.

We are flesh and blood, but we are also made up of elements. All of that space matter and the elements attached--earth, water, fire, air--is our flesh and blood. Some of us are more fire, some water, etc. I personally have a lot of everything. But a fire person would be more creative and passionate, they like travel and sports. The downside is they are completely incapable of sitting still and accepting life's complexities at base level--they want to fight and challenge it to death and then move on to the next battle. A water person is more languid and emotional, they love to consume their diet in liquids, and yes, they do tend to have problems with substance and alcohol abuse--and like water, they creep and run into the deep rivers of thoughts and feelings. Air people love books, languages, justice, thought, roles and relationships, legalities, etc. Never get into an argument with an air element unless you have Google and a Webster's dictionary at hand. Earth people love nature, animals, food, luxuries, are very sensible and grounded, warm, but extremely stubborn, and just like the big rock they live on, ain't going nowhere when it comes to ideals and points they wish to make.

We come from the outer realms. We are everything. It's in us. And out of us.

So if anyone says that you are nothing, you can answer, "Wrong. I am a capsule of the Universe. If I were nothing I'd be invisible."

What element are you?


Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Here's lookin' at you, kid

photo credit: pedrosimoes7 The tree's eyes via photopin (license)
Have you ever noticed how trees of a certain age have eyes? It sounds a bit out there, but recently I started seeing eyes instead of knots where limbs were cut off, and now I refer to them as the 'windows' of a tree's soul. You'll never see one the same way again. Or is it seeing you?

They say you can ground yourself by hugging or sitting at the foot of a tree. The roots go so deep into a dark, parallel world of carbon and fire. We are life and we are stardust. We are everything of the earth, and beyond. To sit at the base is to be centered and put right with all this magic. Like a phone on a charger.

When someone hurts you, intentionally or unintentionally, it cuts. Even if we hide our pain, there is an invisible cut. Endings, deaths, denials. Our wounds heal eventually and turn into scars. Each scar is a visible remnant of that time when we were forced to grow into a new phase or mindset. Our soul has a million rings, is so rich with experience, culled together from the first breath.

It is impossible to go through life without pain. In fact, we need it, or else, why be born in the first place? Life wasn't meant to sit in a lounger and sip champagne. It was meant for the ultimate experience. The good and the bad.

Perhaps you have eyes that don't blink, cuts that don't bleed. Perhaps you are covered with an indelible, invisible bark, and your soul reaches down into an abyss of the earth's soul.

Perhaps you are wiser than you think.

How many 'eyes' do you have?

Monday, May 15, 2017

Lif in the Microcosm



photo credit: Onasill ~ Bill Badzo Ritzville Washington  ~ Historic Main Street ~ Small Town America via photopin (license)


My daughter and I visited a small town the other day and as usual I people watched from the corners of my eyes. I've always been fascinated by these little microcosms of society ruled by Christianity and red meat, Saturday night drink-a-thons and usually a ton of 1950-ish dogmatic beliefs. In the car later I was talking about how these small towns have existed for so long without any change, and isn't that funny, but in a way beautiful. However, they won't last much longer because eventually the rest of the world will encroach on their bubble and bring about a slow but lasting shift.

So Frank works at the slaughterhouse. His father works there, his friends work there, and they all drink beer on Saturday night and then go to church on Sunday. Frank meets a girl, gets married, and soon a baby is on the way. A boy. They name him John. Well, John is a free spirit, he likes to dance, he doesn't care about looking like a boy or a girl, and he hates meat. His parents seek comfort in the church and are told to reject all evil. But it's their kid. Is John evil? So first, they whip him, then they take him hunting, then to the slaughterhouse, then they forcibly cut his hair and demand that he acts like everyone else. Lastly, they shun John and tell him to get out because if they can't change him they can't love him.

But John is still John, and the seeds of his lessons stay behind, eroding and eradicating the dogmatic ways of his parent's generation. Years go by and the parents adapt. They can accept the hair, the open thinking, and eventually, they'll come to accept John completely, because love heals all.

You can already see it. The new generations see how the rigid, rules we live by just aren't working anymore, and they will change it because somehow they know it's time. And that's beautiful. What do you think?

I wish you a great day. Thank you so much for stopping by!



Thursday, May 11, 2017

Nature Speaks To Us All

Just wanted to write the quickest post in the world to talk about how nature mirrors everyday life events. Have you ever noticed things such as the birds acting crazy on the same day you're having a chaotic life experience, or maybe there's absolutely no weather at all when things for you are serene? I do feel that nature is spirit's way to talk to us, and if we learn how to interpret the messages we gain insight on how to navigate through our difficult and sometimes confusing lives.

Last week when the political world was in chaos with the healthcare system being torn apart, forcing millions of American to lose vital medical care, the hawks were out stealing from the nests of other birds. Now, I love hawks, but I cringe when they do this each year. The other, much smaller, birds fought back, yet as we can all guess a robin hasn't much chance against a falcon. It breaks my heart, but it is nature and I respect the process. However, I found it interesting that at the same time the very fabric of security—our life and health—was being stolen from us, and more importantly, from our children. Without going into my political views, I find it intersecting how the hawks mirrored the events of the day.

If you look closely, you will find the same ability to predict or measure your life through the nature around you. All it takes is a little bit of slowing down and time spent outside. Ask what it is you want to know, or need help with, and I guarantee the answer will be shown to you in so many various forms.

I wish you well.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

I hate writing titles

I don't have much to say except that I am on Instagram and would love to meet up with you guys there. It and this place are pretty much a graveyard, but I do post pictures every once in a while so check it out. Hope you're having a great day.

Monday, January 23, 2017

You made a difference


https://acceptingchanges-maybe.blogspot.com/2017/01/arleen-goes-to-washington.html?showComment=1485201049939#c18537138550012937

Friday morning I woke up and sensed a palpable negative energy in the world, like a cold skin had been placed on us all. The sky was slate grey and blackbirds corralled in my yard picking at the ground. Thank God for children and their divine ability to distract us all from the troubles of life. When they came home from school going on and on about tests and what their plans for the weekend were, I felt myself lighten up a bit.

Friday was the inauguration, and no, I didn't watch. It may be history, but so are sinking ships.

On Saturday things weren't that much better, really. I went about the house completing my errands, conducting a mental dialogue about the groceries I needed to pick up for the week ahead: sack lunches for the kids, dinners, hand-held items for bus-bound pre-teens. By noon the clouds thinned just enough to see a spark of sunlight; it lightened my emotions as I took Henry for a walk. Still though, my heart felt depleted like that of a twenty-year-old after being broke up with. No hope for reconciliation, just a dull pain and going-through-the-motions to get through it all.

Later on I watched the news and saw all the women who had gathered together, not only in America but across the world, and it was if the real sun finally come out. Everything changed. These weren't bitter women, these weren't violent protests or refusals of truths, these were people of all gender, age, status coming together to say: we count and we won't put up with bully tactics from anyone. Not now, not ever.

I can't stop thinking about how amazing it is. Thank you to all who went out and marched. I feel like a jerk for not being there too, but I am glad that the ones who were supposed to go, did. Thank you. It made a difference. You made a difference.

I loved reading Arleen's blog post today about her epic journey to one of the marches on Saturday. Truly inspiring. We should all be like her in action and in spirit. You rock, Arleen.




Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Smoke got in my eyes


photo credit: Bildergrund Grace via photopin (license)

I was once a smoker. Not heavy, but it was enough of a habit to qualify as an addiction, though I know many will get up in arms over what an addiction truly is. For me, to wake up in the morning and want to have a smoke in the car on the way to school or work, maybe two, then one or two after, then one in the evening and before bed, would equate to at least a habit. And not only that, it was the emotional need that made it real.

It started in high school. My friend *Kacy pulled me into her father's camper in their front drive where we proceeded to pull cigarette butts out of an ashtray on a little card table. She told me she'd smoked many times before (her father was a heavy smoker) and that he'd never found out so it was okay. So we lit up. And it was nasty. But I was exciting. Later on I'm about seventeen, and on Saturday nights my friends and I like to go park outside the old elementary school in our small town. We start lighting up more and more because Kacy has access to these cigarettes, or maybe she buys them because she always got by with stuff like that, but it wasn't just about the smoking, it was about being together and talking and just being chill when the rest of the world was so not chill. I didn't actually inhale, for me it was casual and no commitment. Then one day I inhaled.

Kacy lent me a cigarette to take home, and one afternoon I locked myself up in the back bathroom with the exhaust fan on full cycle. My first intake ripped my chest apart, like sharks biting the tender flesh. I felt sick, and the fan did nothing. My mother, who came home later and detected the telltale odor straight off, was none too pleased. Amazingly, my sister took the heat for me, saying she'd been the one to light up inside the house. I guess to her it didn't matter--she and mother had been arguing for years about practically everything, so what was one little cigarette? Indebted and grateful, despite our years of fighting each other over stains on designer sweatshirts and leg space in our double bed, I thanked my her profusely, swearing I'd never get mad at her or smoke in the house again!

I smoked in cars. In bleachers at football games. At parks, lakes, and walks through town.

By eighteen, smoking had become not only a habit, but a comfort. Life was hard. Society was mean. The future was uncertain, but as long as I had a cigarette I could make it through. My friends and I would laugh about our coughing fits, we'd wave our hair out to get rid of the smell and spray on perfume to mask the funk. I took to wearing all black, to being an intellectual, an artist, a rebel, and smoking went along with all of that.

But then one day I noticed I wasn't breathing very well, and that the effect of having a stuffy nose and clogged lungs left me with panic attacks. Instead of being a comfort, I was left jittery and ill at ease. And sick. Sore throats, headaches, dry mouth, yuck. I was 23 and starting to think about what it would be like to feel healthy again, to breathe again. Those emotions, that mental and physical need, that loneliness, pulled at me, and yet another side pulled back: to be free and clean.

Inside a battle raged over whether I was succumbing to society's need to control us weirdos, us outsiders. If I quit, wouldn't I just turn into Basic Becky with a twinset and no edge? No drive?  What's life anyway if you don't live it a little dangerously? Despite all that, I decided to quit, if only to find out if the grass was truly greener.

And it was. The rift left by the absence of cigarettes created a desire to build up my health, which included buying new sneakers and exercise clothing. I went out to a track every day and walked for at least an hour. Something I didn't mention was that a boyfriend and I had broken up the night I discovered he was a manipulative cheater asshole. The truth was, I'd been addicted to him as well. Every night I craved his smell, his touch, his conversation. Alone in my car I imagined what it would be like to talk to him again, to kiss him, to know once again that there was someone in my life who loved me--even if it false love. But his cheating was unforgivable. During our last phone call I perceived a haughty boredom on his side, most likely caused by my utter and complete admittance that I needed him more than he needed me. After hanging up, I decided no man was ever going to make me feel that way again. I never did go back.

So, it's clear I was in a transformation. A cleansing. It was literally do or die, and I decided to do. To live. Once I made that decision: that I didn't need any him, or things, or opinions to rule me, I was free. And it was beautiful.

Freedom is beautiful.

I truly believe that each of us are put on this earth, not to succumb and conform and lose ourselves, but to find, to be, to search, and to live. Dammit, we're here to live. If a person wants to smoke, then smoke. It's calming. We need vices, and each of us should be able to do want we need in the time we need without judgement. And then if you want to quit smoking, then quit. Do it for yourself. I didn't use any patches or pills, I just decided to be healthy FOR ME.

What big decisions have you made in your life that took courage and created big change?

Thanks for stopping by!


*not her real name


Friday, January 6, 2017

Hello 2017

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Chillin' with Henry the Dachshund


A brand new year, a brand new me . . . isn't that how it's supposed to go? Except, I'm not exactly sure that I'm feeling so brand new! Okay, yes, I am happy to see the old year pass away into the dirty fog it created, but isn't this *stuff* getting rather old, all this 'I have to be a better version of myself' starting right now, stuff? How about I'm happy with who I am and nothing needs to change, thank you very much? I worked hard on myself last year, and all the years past, and nothing needs to change. I just need to accept myself exactly as I am, right here, right now. Anyone else feeling this?

I keep hearing everyone say that 2016 was such a terrible year, but I don't feel the same way. 2016 was a great year of lessons and revelations. Of learning to trust my intuition, of learning to be comfortable in my own skin (even when I'm not that comfortable), of acceptance, of facing reality, of knowing what I can and cannot change, of what my true value and potential is. It taught me to let go and trust in the Universe, that something bigger and greater has my back totally and completely, and even if the world were to crash down in flames, somehow I'd be okay. Because I'm part of something eternal. We all are. And I'm not talking Bible stuff here, don't get worried.

One of the biggest things I've learned this year is that: a lot of people do bad shit and they don't care. A lot of people like to: lie, sabotage, cheat, check out, have addictions, manipulate, hurt, will stab you in the back, XY&Z. But it ain't you. It doesn't reflect you. Who ARE you? Water can only sink a ship if you let it inside. Water: emotions. If you know who you are, then stand strong. So, how do you value yourself? Do you love yourself? I learned that, yes, I do. I love and value myself, and anyone who's ever hurt me in the past was only allowed to do so because I had no self-value. No self-love. When you truly care about and love yourself, no one can do any real damage. And they'll try, believe me. I think a lot of bad stuff that happens in this world happens because none of us were ever taught true self-love, and that's sad. We hurt, we get revenge, we lie, we destroy because we are completely broken. Babies. Infants. No real knowledge of self. That doesn't excuse it, but it does explain it at least.

Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries.

Love, love, love.

Here's what else I learned. The most powerful lesson of all. That person who hurt(s) you has no power. They are weak. Strong people do not hurt others, take advantage of others, they support and/or build you up, because they themselves have a good value system and, most of all, ethics. If you think that your bully, your boss, your spouse, your parent, your child, your president . . . has power over you, then think again. True power comes from inside FIRST. First and foremost.

I yam what I yam (opens can of spinach).

Thus ends my rant.  It wasn't really a rant, I was emoting. Something that's quite hard for me to do because I am in my head SO MUCH.

Here's to a fabulous 2017, come what may.  I'll try to post more often. I've thought about doing the watt pad thing and just free writing for kicks. We'll see.

How is your New Year coming along? As always, thank you for stopping by! Much love to you.




Friday, December 9, 2016

First Snow


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Thought I'd stop by to say hello, and to share this video I took the other day of our first snow. I noticed Mr. Cardinal sitting all by himself in a tree, but of course we can imagine Mrs. Cardinal was somewhere nearby. I went out later to toss out some sunflower seeds and the next day they had a wonderful feast.

This last week has been bitterly cold. I am NOT looking forward to a long winter of this! The first snow is pretty but after that it's all downhill. So, could someone please buy a house in Hawaii and invite me over for cocktails?

Wednesday, November 9, 2016

Humble Pie

Well, the impossible happened and there's nothing anyone can say or do to change it. I want to stay positive and hope for the best, but to be honest right now I'm feeling all sorts of crazy emotions, and grief. Like John F. Kennedy has just died. It hurts.

This scene is from one of my favorite movies, and it's exactly what I'm feeling.  I'm Steve Martin, I want reimbursement, and the snarky ticket agent is America. Pardon the language.


New project

 Well in other news, I’ve begun to write a screenplay about the summer George Harrison traveled to the US. Trying to get kickstarter funding...