Faith

“Soon, I enjoyed the feeling that comes with becoming a better person.”
Peaks and Valleys by Spencer Johnson, M.D. (Page 54)

This is one of the books we are reading at work and this sentence struck me.  I can spent countless hours beating myself up over mistakes; things I should have done and said differently.  But, I did not spend time feeling the feeling of betterment.  When I read that sentence I just sat and reflected on what I came through.  In the chaos of the memories, I sat in the center, calm.

There is an assurance that seemed elusive before.  I can feel it as a solid base beat – my heart.  I had not noticed that within my heart lies certainty.  I have worked hard at learning the messages from my center (as if it were separate from me).  There was this noise from dependencies, those were the ribbons crowding out the air around my beat.

The things that lay with Truth are subtle, soft, loving.

The things that lay with deception are loud, obnoxious, indifferent.

At one recent meeting the host said “Consistency wins”.  I thought “If someone is great at being an ass, and they do this every day then then are: “Consistently winning at being at ass, everyday”.”

Seriously, think about it:  Whatever you are thinking, who we/I/you are emulating, what we are saying, what we are not doing, we are consistently winning at being that person.

Learning the feeling the comes from becoming better is crucial, because what I am really talking about is Faith.  That word is smoke and mirrors. I know I am sitting in the hands of something Greater, and the feeling that comes with this knowledge is deep and steady.  I have found the courage to strive for better.

I’m getting to know the feeling that comes from becoming a better person. Because life is a bag of tricks and I need Faith.

“faith”, mixed medium on canvas by Arifah

bravery in weakness

Last week was a hard energy week. Everything came at me and I was raw. Recovery has been slow. I’m immensely thankful that I had a busy week with work, otherwise I would be on the floor.

A friend said “I can see why Robin Williams made that choice.” I totally get it. I hadn’t felt that much collected pain in a long time. It brought up some old wounds, some fresh ones, and I was reeling.

I felt like a cosmic washing machine for collected energy. 

Sometimes, I too want to pack it in. I don’t want to feel all of this so deeply. I just want my life. This may explain my desire to hide out from the world in a small shack somewhere. I don’t want obligations, expectations, commitments….nothing. Just the clothes on my back and a few other things. I get how people get to this place.

Pain is distorting when it gets to those levels. I know I’m not thinking clearly and I also know what I’m experiencing is bigger than me. It’s teeter tottering between two worlds and I feel like I’m being pulled apart. Thankfully, I was able to meditate today and it was sooo good. I just want to spend all day wrapped in cosmic dust. I need the healing.

I think last week was magnified because I had to make a decision to walk away from a project. I knew it was coming just not so quickly, and the decision was made before I said it. The hard part was hearing some judgmental opinions based on my actions. It still hurts to hear some comments. I wonder if I’ll ever be strong enough? I took these hurts into the next week and it makes sense why I would be knocked over.

I wish the Universe would give me a warning before the tidal wave comes. 

As for Robin Williams, send him some love. He’s a brave soul, living openly as he did. I love all the cherished message across Facebook giving him the respect he deserves. We’ve come a long way when we are able to embrace the bigger message.

Pretense can’t hide from Feelings

When I left Barbados at 18, I was terrified with being away from my family for the first time and living on my own. I think the fear, the circumstances in leaving my island, being thrown into lives with strangers (for a shy person that’s the worst), and discovering a new culture was an overwhelming shock to my system.  I went into numbness and carried pretense as a form of protection to my exposed emotions. For that young girl I didn’t have ‘the stuff’ to guide me through that upheaval.

 

I think in the first 6 months I heard “so you’re here to chase the American Dream?”. There was much pride expressed with this question so I soaked up that energy, especially having being starved for anything feeling good. I’m smiling thinking on the naivete, my sweet innocence.

 

I remember talking with others from that sweetness, that gentleness, and how often I was ridiculed. Scoffed at for coming from a place that’s considered part of the Third World – for clarity that’s apparently a bad thing. I was even ashamed with the attachment to Barbados and that started Americanizing. I immediately gravitated toward this dream and cast aside my own and my past. I set out in search for my cloud that held my white picket fence.

 

 

Let me say this, America is one of the greatest countries on Earth. There’s access here that’s unfathomable and I think many take it for granted. We will help a child on the street if we saw one.  Anyone can get help for anything if they chose to. I learned non-judgment in Barbados and this country showed me how to practice it. We can pick up and re-start everyday; there’s opportunity to do so. I am grateful to be living in such a giving country. I am also aware of the flaws that we hide behind.

 

I see so many young women already planning their degrees and lives to ‘catch’ the right guy so they can have that life. I also see so many young men already learning how to choose a woman that will ‘present’ well to the world. Both of them willing to settle on existence and mediocre sex for the REST OF THEIR LIVES.  I remember this person well.

 

My sister recently said this to me…“This life is rare. We’re never going to have it again. We can’t. This life is rare. I wish if people would get that.”

 

Those words hit me like a ton of bricks.

 

I thought about the damage this space of pretending brings….

 

It has has no Energy. It is void of all things….Love, feelings, emotions, kindness, therefore it is empty of God, the Universe, Energy, and whatever word you’d like to use here. For me Love is interchangeable with God. If there is an act, thought, voice, that expresses from no Love then we have removed Energy from the interaction and therefore there is no expansion, no growth. We have nothing if there’s no Energy exchanged.

 

There is no relationship.  There is no coupling.  There is no friendship.  It’s all fiction.  We THINK we are creating life in fact we are contributing to it’s death. I personally think the world is reflecting our state of thinking and words that are disconnected from care. It is expressing our conflicts, acts of suppression, avoidance, deliberate ignorance, pretense. All of these things are a perfect platform for greed. For being a taker.

 

So what am I saying, if we’re in pretense even for a sliver for a second, we are in a space void of our purpose.  No surprise really how so many of us are always looking for purpose as if it’s a shirt we’ve misplaced. It’s the very essence of who we are, our gifts, me writing this blog, when I’m painting, when I’m laughing with you, when I touch and hug you, when I say I’m sorry and never bring up the ‘thing’ to cause pain.

 

I think many people see God, The Universe, Energy, Flow as something that external. This I disagree with wholeheartedly. My entire being rejects the very idea. I am, you are a part of the whole. So what the Universe wants I want. What God wants I want. Flow is a part of me.  When I’m ‘tapped’ into Love, the greater Flow, takes over.

 

So when I was busy creating the American Dream I was creating my coffin. Collecting the wood, glue, nails every day. So the bigger question is why? Why did I do this? Why are so many doing it now?

 

To hide from the pain feelings bring.

 

To desensitize myself from the pain I was in at 18 and not capable to cope with it all. I didn’t have anyone guiding me to tell me “feel, feel this life…we’re supposed to.” Something I recently told my boys when they were going through a very hard moment. I held them quietly in care and love, gently reminding them to feel the pain. “Suppression is a disease that starts slowly and eventually HAS to surface in your life. It CANNOT stay hidden. You will likely, unconsciously, make decisions from this state, who you will marry if that’s what you want, what kind of job you want to have, the kind of friends. Be careful here.  Feel your experience don’t hide from it.”

 

When I was living this way, I had an overall rudeness, a disgruntled view of others and life. I doubted others success. I was negative and arrogant. Sounds familiar? Yes the ego took over. Let’s paint the false pictures in a life, we will never have again, so we can pretend we have a life worth living. And we wonder why the world is fucked up as it is. Everything starts here. Energy is everything. We are energy. Energy is the Universe.

 

I’ve spend so many years running from feelings. Running as hard and fast as I can from the very thing I am. How can I run from the Universe…myself?

 

My commitments that I’ve recently made to myself have become my map. They are guiding me along and my road is paved in feelings. It’s going to be bumpy. I’m good with that. It’s going to push me in areas I didn’t see coming; I’m not resisting that.

 

I’ve also come to realize that kindness is the way to my heart. I love my sweet naivete and glad to have her back. I reject the space of pretense the moment it starts to approach and I’m glad I have the radar to detect. I also know I’m no longer pretending my way into love.  I have a pretty good version of Love right now and it’s worth seeking and keeping.

 

Feelings, Flow, Energy are lighting up my pathway and I need it all. Because I’ve spend a lot of years looking down. I need all the help I can have to remind me to look up and around. This life is never to be experienced again. Feeling it is The Gift that keeps me IN purpose. That is the ultimate Intimacy….and I admit this does not sound Simple to achieve everyday.  The Light points the way.

 

 

At the Cusp of Identity’s nudge

This has been an interesting month to say the least. I’ve had one light bulb moment after another which means I’m in the middle of tremendous changes. I don’t even know where this blog is going…so here goes.

After my last post I received rather interesting reactions from quite a few people. I knew I was taking a risk with the writing and knew it was over the top before I hit publish. Isn’t that the way it is? Sometimes you just have to follow crazy knowing things are going to get interesting. I don’t know which surprised me most, getting another reminder of how energy works or just sitting stunned with how quickly people can forget to see who you are.

 

I was chatting with a friend and the conversation was centered around how we perceived religion as causing more separation between humans than unity. I said “When are we not a part of something? I’m here aren’t I? I mean God chose to put me here. I belong now. I am enough.”

 

It was a pow moment we looked at each other and said “yeah baby”.

 

There’s such struggling in creating identities when that’s really impossible. You

Why is it that bravery and vulnerability are so easily passed over? We are easy to talk about what matters and quote books…then comes the living and with that the finger pointing when someone steps up. Stop doing that. It’s not nice.

can’t create what you already are. I don’t need to show my worth by being in a group. We’re individuals having an interaction with each other. What I’ve realized is that being the girl at the dinner table that says what everyone is afraid to say comes at a price. I’ve lived this for a long time. I’m used to the separation that causes. So why did the reactions from the last blog bother me? Still asking myself that. I made a choice to take a risk. I’d do it again. So this acceptance thing is the tiny pebble in my shoe.

 

I’m thinking it’s a lingering trail to my past life of living the Joneses. Where everything was in order. You know, dinner at 6, forks neat in the drawer, the house with more square footage that I knew what to do with, clean cars, the perfect smile at cocktail parties. I think this life still haunts me. It’s filled with a myriad ways where pretense allows compromise and the masking of the identity wins. So I pulled away because I had a flashback to wanting acceptance from places that’s none of my business.

 

I mean it’s all a test really. Everything here isn’t per chance. That’s impossible. If I’m saying I’m moving forward in the direction of my soul’s path then I have to be able to deal with energies that aren’t in alignment with my direction. Recognize them for what they are and know that these energies cannot step into my sphere if I’m in a space of love. The ‘less thans’ cannot enter into my world unless my energy allows it so. Such relief in being reminded of the solution.

 

Here we go, I just found the reason for this blog; I was susceptible. It was because I hit a low point. I’ve arrived at the cusp. I’ve been approaching it for some time now and not accepting what needs to come in. But there’s no stopping Flow once she puts her palm in your back. So now I’m at the point of transition, standing looking at the cusp and saying “wait a sec I need to breathe”.

 

Have you ever asked energy to pause? Yeah if that happens this would be an obituary and I wouldn’t be the author.

 

This is how it goes in order for the next to come in the old, weary and used has to go. I know how detrimental it is to stay in a contract after it’s ended. The level of discord messes up the natural energy flow that I’m supposed to move into, reacting with my current state and the friction begins. We’ve all felt this friction. It’s like a rubbing against the soul and the soul becomes pissed. My soul is pretty calm, gentle, agreeable yet still impetuous, fiery and willing. So when I mess with her natural states my world ventures back into insanity and I’m scrambling for air.  And this is where I’m standing.

 

I’m overwhelmed. My business is changing and the new things are coming in at lightning speed. I’m scared, nervous, excited and so much more in between. Thankfully I have a strong group of friends going through the same changes and we are able to lean on each other to grab at some sense of normalcy through these intense shifts.  I’m appreciative for these conversations because they help me prepare for the unknowns. I know the changes aren’t a failure even if I’m recognizing opinion that thinks it so.

 

In this weakened state I have to remember to listen to the nudges. Not to diminish those little twitches for anything or anyone. I know how easy it is to slip into compromise and before you know it the pound of flesh is missing.  This worries me because I know next time it’ll be much closer to the heart.

 

The push is telling others “hey this is me like it or leave it” and to watch the unhealthy opinions slide…umm actually I may speak up.  I’ll see how it goes. I, you, we don’t need to prove who we are to the other I know this.  That’s not the point.  It’s saying out loud “this has to stop”, to people that ‘talk’ about the importance of being brave only to take you down in the same sentence . Well at least it’s not continuing with me.

 

It’s acceptance of who we are to ourselves and then see if others will Step Up or Step Away. Not just for others but for myself. I can’t ask anyone to be caring in my life if I’m not willing to care for my identity. Simple.

Speeding Up to Simplicity

I sitting here with Chessmen cookies and debating on making more coffee thinking there is no debate because I’ll likely cave.  I love this internal dialogue. I’ve found simplicity, again. I keep seeming to lose it and when life gets complicated I’m searching for that thing I’m missing and thankfully it’s waiting for me.

 

I’ve found the log cabin in the woods that I’ve been searching years for and there was always an excuse for not getting here. I’ve always wanted to disappear from everything, no cell phones, no TV, no overly doing. Just being in an A-Frame log cabin in the woods. I’ve arrived. It’s even equipped with it’s own gentle water fall in the back. I sat out this morning with coffee and my journal only to have the cup and pen fall off the ledge of the deck from two-stories up. Saw that coming. 

 

There’s no path to the back it’s overridden with what looks like poison ivy, slippery clay, pebbles and big-ass spiders. I tried to muddle through this in flip flops and laughed out loud at myself at how ‘city-like’ I was.  Being such a girl trying to find the kitch sunflower coffee cup (that I can easily replace) and my favorite pen. It’s a good thing I have three more of those favorite pens in my purse. Any writer knows what I mean. I turned back into the house and promised to try again later because the flip flops were a bad idea and I need to find out what poison ivy looks like. Which I won’t be able to know until ‘I head back to town’, (ha ha…so love that) to get cell coverage. Sigh. This is bliss.

 

 

Out here in the woods the store owner calls me ‘hun’ and re-opened her store just for us to spend $12.53. Then called the owner’s mother, of the cabins we’re staying in to find out if there were dishes for me to cook with or if I needed to pick up dinner. Suddenly I’ve become and Indian girl with a southern accent. We’re laughing.

 

See what I mean? This is simplicity. This thing my body craves. Sitting on a two-story deck listening to falling water while a crow caws overhead, maybe yelling at me for trying to steal some of his serenity. Playing Cheat and Spit with my boys; the last time we played cards was too long ago. Laughing so hard our faces hurt.

 

Then I wake up before them to meditate on the deck and the heavenly rain comes telling me “go sit inside by the window and write while listening to your children breathe”. I’m so agreeable. I’ve made some astounding decisions through this simplicity. That’s how it goes isn’t it? The care of simple things shows me what complexities are unnecessary. Simplicity is the template for life that I keep returning to when life becomes too cluttered.

 

It’s really about the caring of ourselves. Nurturing our own hearts.

 

I’ve spent my entire life, at least it feels that way, trying to find peace. I find it from 11pm every night. It’s when you go to sleep and the world quiets, at least my part of the world. Your worrying disappears into sleep and the air becomes calm and my little piece of the Earth feels simple. I find peace. I cherish this time. My entire body exhales, my mind stills and then I realize how exhausted I am.

 

I’m a giver and it’s worn me out. The last 4 years have taken their toll.

 

From making the decision to move ahead with a divorce, shredding my boys’ lives apart, making amends for that, their dad has a terrible accident and almost dies throwing my beautiful boys face-to-face with the reality that parents can die, re-adjusting into a new family dynamic, ending a 2 year business relationship with someone I considered a brother, coming down with bronchial-pneumonia and sick for three months (which is no surprise really), ending friendships that had to end, and so much more in-between that’s far from it.

 

My body was tired and I very often had no desire for ‘doing’. It seems the last 4 years were about endings. Now I’m ready for beginnings. I’m ready to being anew. Frankly, I have to because life doesn’t stop. As much as I’d like to escape and could use 4 years to recover I can’t.

 

It’s now in such a moment, the air still, with breath and pouring rain as my music I can feel me and my path. It’s all so clear my next steps and I’m worried that when I leave my log cabin and get back into the energies of everything I’ll forget. So I’m writing it all down. I can’t forget this time. I so tired of losing me to me and things.

 

I started feeling flow after being ill because exhaustion leads to the breaking point. I remember purging my being through tears and whispered a life plea for something to give. I asked for my direction and being broken it was easy surrendering to the outcome.

 

Flow started off gently like a gentle breeze swirling around me. Whispering little secrets. This is it’s trickery. It teases you along with enticing cookies along a trail and I followed. Before I knew it I was taking risks I would never have done before. This is how it does it.

 

Now Flow has stripped me of all inhibition. I’m standing naked before myself and the dream hides no longer.

 

I’ve asked for this, to live a life authentic to my heart’s desires. To have the courage to honor myself and LIVE. No more talking it’s time for action. Now Flow has picked up intensity and feels like a comforting palm pressed against my back, gently pushing, keeping me on course in my direction. I am pursuing my heart’s desires to be a published writer. I’ll continue to develop my art in paintings and poetry. I do know I want my income to now include the arts. There I’ve said it, finally.

 

I just know there’s no more waiting to live this life. Every day death draws closer and if that isn’t a shake up I don’t know what is. My sense of urgency has intensified and it’s driving the car; I’m the passenger. It’s picking up speed and it’s taking me whether I want to or not. As much as I crave being still, because my life has never had still, it’s not coming any time soon.

 

So many things have floated away because I saw Simplicity again and she’s giving me clarity in actions. If and when I can’t seem to feel peace I’ll turn to her to help me re-connect. Because I do know this she removes ambiguity and helps me with discernment.

 

I came to my cabin with a mindful of mind funk. Somewhere along the way, and in just three days, nature smiled at me and said “really?”. I’m so glad I knew to smile back.

 

Yes, Simplicity is to be in my life as a constant; with her I feel the lightness that is my being.

 

“You cannot shout a murmur”

“You cannot shout a murmur”, Mary Angelou

 

It was a screaming voice that yelled “whore, that’s what you are!”

For a 16 year old to hear herself described that way is devastating and shred me to pieces. It took years to put myself back together from that kind of hate. Not to worry, that person has been long forgiven; they knew nothing else. Yes, exhale, I am free of this pain. Much harder to forgive myself for believing the expression and removing it from my existence than forgiving the speaker.

 

I’ve heard loud, devastating words that crushed me and I’ve allowed it to blanket my soul. The hardest pain to bear. I’ve allowed these loud voices in too far.

 

I’m teaching myself something new…and it started a few years ago and came through soft mouths, one of the places blessings come from.

 

One of my sons said “mom you mean to tell me that you and Mark were working on trying to fix your problems for over a year and you couldn’t find a solution? You’ve spend all that time? Mom….mom…what were you thinking? That’s too long mom. That’s just too long.” Both boys looked at me with pained eyes for my experience and told me enough was enough.  They were 11 at the time.  Words spoken with gentleness filled with the offering of a soft place to rest. Words showing that I’m accepted as I flounder, waver and fall…letting me know I’m OK.

 

I want more of this…I’m craving it.

 

I want these types of words to override the loud ones. I’m learning that this is how “I love you” is spoken. I’m changing my view and looking at quiet actions, subtleties and listening to the murmurs. I want to hear what’s underneath.

 

When I thin things out like this it keeps reasoning simple. Gives me the moment to see how I should speak, what I should say and to recognize the really important words.

 

I think I suffered for so long because I lived from seeing the potential in the other.  It’s a beautiful thing to see yet if they don’t want to live from it there’s nothing I can do.  I’m recognizing the difference in language here too.  I have to be honest with the people that are around me.  I’ve noticed that sometimes the conflict may rise to a level of using words that cause a slow degeneration of each other.  The pushing away begins.

 

I used to think this was how things had to end.  I’m seeing how unnecessary this all is.  It’s possible that I could actually give grace to the other person in not witnessing them use words to that level of harm.  The toll it takes on the soul and the human in using such words toward another is tremendous.  The harm energetically ripples around the world until it makes its way back to us.  Then we have to do the painful work to clear this out of our small sphere.  A hard task to endure. 

 

I’d rather leave you with dignity than using or hearing words that tear us apart.  I’ve recognized when the time has come for some things.  A love that only the soul shares and the human may not understand.  I’m learning when silence can elevate the communication and when it can be destructive. 

 

If someone cannot speak from their own desires, not express from the gentleness that resides in their heart, live from diminished intuition, by choice or otherwise, what can we offer each other?  We have a time limit.  Such a relief to acknowledge that.

 

In truth, it’s hard to have our thoughts, words and actions line up. That’s the trick isn’t it? Life is having the courage to admit we’re incongruent and then taking steps to change. It’s also lining myself up with people of maturity, not just adults…big difference. People that are willing to say “this isn’t working let’s see what we can do to make it better and walk away if we can’t find a solution”. No finger pointing, just forgiveness and willingness. 

 

I’m not going to spend months and months of angst over something that no longer works.  Because taking part in these actions keeps us both from our potential.  I’m taking that energy out to the world.  I’m worth more than than, you are too and so is everyone I come in contact with. 

 

My expressions, my morsels, my murmurings that brush against you is hope.  I hope I can remember to offer better somethings.  

 

Riding past the ‘In-Betweens’

I want to move past types within definitions such as being divorced, Indian, business owner and so on. It bothers me when certain expressions for individuality causes separation. Don’t get me wrong I love, cherish, individuality. I crave it and want to give it to you. It’s the separation that comes from groups, organizations, and certain constructs that seem counterintuitive to unity that concerns me.

 

Alexander McQueen, an amazing fashion designer, said in an interview that he doesn’t talk or define himself as gay because there’s nothing to talk about it’s who he is. This thinking struck me as deeply profound. Does a straight person in conversation say “I’m straight”.  No.  Yet a gay person will.

 

I’m Indian and grew up in Barbados surrounded by every skin color beautifully imagined. My friends were Swedish, Italian, English, Bermudian and many more in-between. This was consciously done I wanted to defy my dad, who was prejudice even though he had a son with an African woman. My poor father could never give to his son what he deserved. I can only imagine the inner torment his soul was in, living through this human, trying to fight and push from this frivolous perception. I’m sending my father love.

 

This taught me an important lesson though, I didn’t want anything ‘more’ than my brothers and sisters. That meant leaving my skin color on the floor.  I actively sought actions that pushed me away from this, and it wasn’t hard because I saw what ‘hard’ really meant. 

 

My brother struggled his entire life trying to fit in with the Indians and the Africans. He even wrote a book of poems Douglas; a slang term defining half Indian and half black person.  I was eleven when I tried to read it.  It was too hard.  He put his pain on the page and it was just too complex for me.  He was brave.  Now this book is out of print and eventually it will be part of my collection.

 

My beautiful sister struggled between one family and another never quite feeling like she fit.  It’s hard living in-between. Riding the cusp of somethings and never knowing or feeling belonged. I know this place well.  

 

I knew never to call him my ‘half-brother’; he’s my brother.  I knew never to introduce her as my ‘adopted sister’; she’s my sister.  It never bothered me we looked differently and told my mother “stop answering those questions that ask why we look different.  It’s no one’s business”.  She did immediately and said “thank you I just never thought of it that way”.

 

I noticed when I walked into restaurants, or went out ‘the Indians’ looked at me and nobody else did. This still happens today.  A lingering moment that reminds me I have color.  I’ve had many Indians say “so you’re Indian?”. I admit the sarcasm surges up and I’m dying to be a smart ass and ask “do you really think we’re connecting?” 

 

I know this race card is old but white people don’t go around saying “hey you’re white”.  

 

We are living the shift toward connection. That’s what many of our writings are about. Wonderfully enough it seems intimacy is expanding beyond private walls. Look at these blogs, the hearts that are beating in the open with blood trickling down fingertips.  We are all asking to be held and cherished as we are. Not to be defined through limiting thoughts. To break free from ourselves and we are doing it in the wide open air hoping to be cleansed of what needs going. Is there anything more beautiful?

 

I’m ready to say the things that’s under the surface irregardless of the outcome. Please understand not with the intent to harm you. No. Rather with the purpose to touch on something real. In doing that, in learning to live me, I’m letting go of being ‘liked’ and the need to ‘fit in’. 

 

There’s this pushing and pulling and it’s my new clue that’s telling me time for a change.  I’m asking myself “what needs to go?”, wait for the answer and then move forward.  This is the real challenge taking the steps to live it out what needs doing in life.  I’m starting with uncloaking the in-betweens.

 

 

I come to…

There were several moments that changed my life while growing up and this one takes the cake.

 

My mother tried to leave my father when I was 11. It was an unsuccessful attempt that’s long and painful to go through. What I want to say is that I blocked out life from this moment until 13. It’s sort of being in a deep sleep everything during that time is black. The thing is no one else is sleeping they were living their lives changing, crying, and evolving. So when I woke up and expected everyone to be the same it’s no surprise that I would be shocked. These people that are supposed to be my family, my caretakers, are strangers.

 

They were bitter, angry, cold, quiet and not talking to each other. It’s natural they would be in this state because my parents no longer hid their problems. My father showed his true colors and they weren’t pastels. My mother had to look at the faces of her children that spoke “why would she leave us?” – well you can imagine how that can break a mother to pieces. She was really an amazing woman she NEVER spoke badly of my father, and would have had to in telling us why she wanted to leave. (It is interesting to see the moments that teach you about being a woman and in turn how to treat a man as a man.)

 

This incident was left dangling for time to erase while she bore the pain of her children rejecting her. I shred myself to bits in thinking how we could have treated her. Thankfully I don’t have those years because my mind is saving me from myself.

 

The significance to my next 20+ years is that I couldn’t trust, not myself or others.  I stepped away from intuition.  This was the start of feeling insane.  I felt like two people in my body.  The inner person was elusive I just couldn’t seem to touch her. I separated from my skin, couldn’t feel it, I was numb from the outside in.

 

It wasn’t until I was 40 that I realized how losing time impacted my life. I was going through a writing binge and completely opened myself, wanting to uncover the past. I remember sitting in my office and thought “I’ve been living a lie”.  The moment I said these words I felt a heavy cloak lift from my feet up. I felt freed.   My interpretation of experience was being pushed through a falsely perceived memory.  I was sitting crying and in jubilation. That’s how I discovered the importance of self-awareness.

 

I’m happy to say I can feel my skin. I can feel the inner me and the thoughts of insanity have wandered.  I love this woman and am continuing to hone her. I’m not giving up who I am for anyone, not anymore. Personal truth comes from self-awareness. It’s a deep need to not lie to myself and yes it’s hard sometimes. See my desire to live awake is my payback it’s too beautiful of a gift to not give myself.  I can still cry in recalling this memory and now I can also smile.  I’ve found the beauty and it makes me feel whole.

 

Frankly life is too damn short to be sleeping.

 

Come dance with me…

I love experience. It’s exciting, fulfilling and sometimes frightening.

I love emotion. It’s invigorating, liberating, provocative, and sometimes debilitating.

This should tell you that I don’t like indifference.

 

To quote Elie Wiesel:
“The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. The opposite of beauty is not ugliness, it’s indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it’s indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, but indifference between life and death.”
(US News & World Report interview 10/27/1986)

 

I didn’t always feel this way I lived indifferently. Numb was more like it. I was given a Universal shake up when I decided to have my first child and life ended up giving me twins. Charleston Heston’s voice rang through my head saying “lady time for change wake the fuck up!”  Time pulled the rug from under me, and it was time to show up for my children and this showed me how to show up for me.

 

I was putting the laundry away and my son came and asked, “mom can you play with me?”.

“No Kyle not right now.”

His shoulders dropped and he turned to leave saying “you don’t get it mom, you just don’t get it.”

Sighing, “what don’t I get Kyle?”

He stopped turned to me and in the softest voice said “life…life is supposed to be fun.”

I dropped the laundry, ran after my son, fell to my knees, apologized then said, “you’re right let’s play.”

 

I’m so damn proud of myself for turning into the moment. I also don’t want to forget that I can be cruel.  My beautiful boy was only seven at the time.

 

I’ve had to learn to play and to let go of being responsible all the time. In the process of doing this I’ve allowed me out. Interesting discovery. In wanting to play more I’ve had to lighten up. In lightening up I’ve put down the baggage and worry less about what you’ll think of me. Such freedom. You’ll either like me or not.

 

I’ve lived the first half of my life from the ‘less thans’ and I’m done with that.  I want the next half of my life to be filled with these experiences:

I want the person I’m sharing me with to HEAR ME, not themselves.

I want the peace of your listening.

I don’t want to be fixed because I’m NOT broken.

Most importantly I want to be ENCOURAGED.

And yes, I’m going to give all of this back to you. 

 

I’ve learned who to share me with.  Such an important lesson.  Not all of you are deserving to know me.  This is earned.  I’m not going to be with people that play in the surface. I’m not playing with fakers. You know the ones that talk about the walk and can’t connect the dots to their hearts. I’ve also removed the people that beat me down. The ones that remind me how I’m not good enough. You’re gone. Also don’t tell me things to quiet me; you know to pacify the situation.  You’re not sticking around either.

 

These are the situations that keep me in indifference and I’m not having it anymore.  I’m not going to get it right and neither are you.  The important thing is to admit the screw up, choose actions that show the apology matters and move on! 

 

I’m designing the next moment. I’m not designing it with closed eyes, closed emotions. I’m designing it with my arms wide open to experiencing pain, sorrow, howling fits of opera laughter, cake, coffee, touch – lots and lots of touching, fucking amazing sex, oh yes honesty – lots and lots of blissful honesty.

 

If you come to my home you’ll see a messy kitchen and laundry that needs doing. I’m good with it. I’m willing to let it go to write my poetry, to paint, to talk to my sisters and friends three times in a day for any reason, to answer the phone at 2m when my niece needs me, to be in silence, to have wonderful crazy conversations with my boys, to love the people I love deeply, passionately and letting them know…

 

Kyle recently told me, “mom all you do is work and dance”, he was smiling.  I’m still beaming.

 

See.  Be.  Receive.