Holiday Wishes

"Some day… there will be a story you want to tell for no better reason than because it matters to you more than any other… You'll stop looking over your shoulder to make sure you're keeping everybody happy, and you'll simply write what's real and true… That's when you'll finally produce the work you’re capable of."
-JD Salinger to Joyce Maynard
excerpt from At Home In The World : a memoir
by Joyce Maynard


On the eve of Christmas, as I review the past year's work, progress, hopes and dreams, the above quote I just stumbled upon seems even more timely, more appropriate to hear and absorb, even though I had originally clipped it several years ago.

As I work on my craft, the turning of the wheel, reviewing and refining my point of view, the frame to my story, may I also find the very same courage and fearlessness that is necessary to write authentic work without worrying what others may think.

So with a holiday blessing in mind, I share this thought with you. May it help to reveal the core of who you are, your essential self, and may you live and work from there as well.

Happy Holidays!

Abundance and good things to all….

Updated not Upgraded

It's not like I haven't been writing. I have. I just haven't been posting. And I haven’t much felt like converting to a Google act either. Call me stubborn, (wouldn't be the first time), but can I just say that I am soooo sick of things changing on me.

Yeah, I know. Life, right? Yeah, I get it. It's just that if the banks aren't being bought out and changed 6 times in 5 years, then my email acct is being bought out and changed (thanks Time Warner), and now I can't post comments on Blogger until I update to a Google act. Then my cellular service recently called us all in to replace ("upgrade" they called it) to their new battery power system. Well the damn thing doesn't hold 1/7th of the charge it used to. Progress?

Even our local drugstore was bought out by another national chain. Frankly, I don't need to be wowed with diagonal maze-like aisles and fancy lighting. If I'm stopping in to the corner drugstore, I just want to know that my 1-2 buck items are handy and accessible. It's just a drugstore for chrissakes.

Then there's the updated versions of every tech thing I ever use, from browsers to applications, cable to digital tv, even learning the difference between convection bake or broil and conventional bake or broil, I mean, I just want to heat something up in the oven, does it have to be so damn complicated? Do they have to reinvent the wheel every few months? Do I have to study another manual? Do I need an ID and a password for every thing I do?

(F@#k, was this one all letters or numbers or some of each? How many IDs and passwords can one brain retain already? And when you factor in acct #s, we're all making ourselves dizzy with digital strings. I'm going to need a password for all my passwords!)

Whine. Moan. I know. Sorry for the long digression. I think I'm suffering from saturated learners curve syndrome. I don't want to learn how to use another god-damned thing for at least another 2 weeks, 'cay? I got enough to do around here right about now.

Wow. I do feel better for having gotten that off my chest. Thanks for listening.

(Perhaps I'll submit to the new Google acct soon...I miss everyone....just not tonight. My brain is full.)

Results 102

Feet touch the earth, connecting, anchoring down. Sunlight pours into the top of my head, receiving, purifying, expanding. An imaginary vortex of carwash-like scrubbers wash me clean as I jog along the sandy path today. Energy shifts. Aura brightens. Thoughts drift by like birds on wings. Sweat trickles down my arms, my ribs, pushing toxins out.

How could I question this?

Sunlight dances on the water sparkling, merry, delightful. Just past the California Incline, I can see the longshot of the ferris wheel and the rollercoaster on the Santa Monica pier jutting out into the Pacific Ocean. It's a classic shot. I've seen it so many times I don't even notice. Except today I do. The beautiful coastline.

This is California. This is LA. This is why I moved here.

The ocean. The expanse. The positive energy radiating from a sun that shines year round. The feeling that everything is possible and it's happening all around you. I am already moving when my feet get caught up on a horizontal escalator. Effortless motion. Journey full-speed ahead.

It occurs to me to experiment with what it feels like to run downhill. To let go. To stretch the legs using different muscles and receive the blessing of going WITH gravity, not against it. Flow, yes, but more.

It's the rush of momentum, forward movement, easy, effortless motion upon motion, gaining speed, without so much as a thought of conflict. No going uphill, going upstream, fighting resistance. Instead, aligning with the current, with the wind, down, down, down, faster and faster, using different muscles, foreign muscles, non-resistant muscles, doing less but gaining more, until a new muscle memory is built that is as familiar with utilizing ease as it is breathing. Second nature. What a concept.

In the middle of December, 70-degree sun beats down, crystallizing the sweat on my arms, healing me. I feel happy. Legs stretching, lungs open, body moving, gaining speed, a meta-physical cocktail in motion, uniting earth with cosmos, turning dark cells to light. I am pure energy. With and without form.

This is Prana. This is Life.

This is MY life.

I am alive.

Anything is possible.

Now.

December 8th.

Ben's Birthday.

Wonder where he is. Wonder how he is.

I was the last one in the family to see him.

It's been 11 years since I last laid eyes on my older brother when he drove off in his red Budweiser truck, navy blue uniform and matching hat, a hug and a "see ya!" between us, and 6 years since he deliberately dodged my occasional calls by changing his number.

I suppose any connection to the family is too painful a reminder of our past, even though I can't fathom what evil I did to warrant his silent treatment. Just that I came through that same tortured womb he did.

Unfortunate for us that we couldn't at least bond against darker forces, together building a fraternal solidarity, a united front . But no, that would be a behavior we didn't see modeled anywhere near our family dramedy.

Like missing an arm, it's weird to think he's out there, somewhere, living his life, a lone survivor, an island unto himself not needing connection or reattachment.

I know little of his adult life.

Does he know he's an uncle...again?

He knew about my sister's baby 23 years ago, but he doesn't know about mine. He doesn't know Miss I'm Never Getting Married is now married. He doesn't know Miss You'll Never Catch Me With A Child now has a 4 1/2-year-old. He's never seen her wavy blonde tresses, or heard her delightful laughter, felt her squishy bear hugs, or experienced her maddening willfulness. Maybe he thinks it's better that way. Any connection to the past might be a gateway too fragile to broach.

So today, December 8th, the day he was born, my thoughts scan and return to honor his memory.

How does one close such a chasm, suture such a wound?

What would I say if he would take my call?

I hope you are…well.
I wish you…well.
I wish you…peace.

Love.

Happy Birthday, dear brother, wherever you are.

Experiment 101

Seems like a no-brainer but I guess I had to try it out for myself.

Sensing that pre-holiday emotional vortex of unmet expectations, unrequited emotional yearning, sadness and disconnection in my upcoming horizon, coupled with an exaggerated sensitivity and a professional rejection, the downward spiral pulling at me was inevitable, without me putting up a good fight.

Hmmm. Maybe I AM working too hard, maybe it's NOT worth the effort, maybe my "practice" IS unnecessary, I thought, succumbing to my inner self-defeatist leanings.

I know, let's see what happens when I fall off all self-discipline, add in gratuitous doses of caffeine, wine and cocktails, sugary treats and baked goods, chocolate, excess refined carbs and bread products, along with no running, no meditating, no writing, and still, so little sleep when there's TIVO to catch up on.

Why not prosecco AND Bloody Marys. Martini AND wine with dinner. Banana cake AND pain au chocolate. Espresso AND milky, sugary Lapsang Souchong tea. French fries for lunch AND pasta for dinner. Who cares? Fun, right? C'mon T, indulge a little. You NEVER treat yourself. Don't be such a hardass I convinced myself.

OK little experiment. You're on!

Of course, 2 weeks later, I say in my unceremonious French, "F@#k that shit!"

For those keeping score, here's the results:
Restless nights, more insomnia, more exhaustion, bloating, gas, weight gain, particularly in the middle. ( I like to call it my 3 Ring Circus - top abs folded over middle abs folded over C-section scar with the bulge under that.)

Emotionally I felt depressed, unmotivated, stuck, snippy - well, OK, angry, sad, vulnerable, useless, and defiant. Spiritually I felt disconnected. In fact, I wanted to disconnect physically, emotionally, socially, and isolate. Not be seen. (Of course, that didn't happen. Too much to do.)

What I didn't feel was motivated, balanced, optimistic, enthused, willing to persevere, be adaptable, stay on track.

So, after reviewing the results of my little experiment, I find I must return to my unceremonious French, and say, "F@#k THAT shit!"

I started taking my Jarrow Bone-Up Calcium/Magnesium at night to sleep better and my B100s during the day for energy. I added back salads at dinner and a reduction in carbs. Today I went running again after a 14 day hiatus. Baggy shirt over baggy pants. Instead of pounding, I went easy on myself: jog at a comfortable pace, walk a little, jog some more, steps. I didn't beat myself up. I didn't berate myself. I didn't think, "God, you're fat. God, you're ugly. Man, you really slipped. Now look how far you have to go."

No.

Instead, I just noticed, "hmmm, interesting experiment. Well obviously THAT doesn't work for me. Let's get back to work, m'kay?"

So, easy does it, I center myself, tune in and begin again. I spin out the cottony haze surrounding my aura, ok with having been somewhat vulnerable and needing to be hidden. It's alright, I'm still here.

I am Love.
All I am is Love.

Love still loves when it seems love's gone missing.
Love can never leave you.
All lessons are lessons for more Love.
Love is all around.
Love never ceases.
I AM Love.
I AM That.


* * *




As I pass the knotted tree, I contemplate its form and this time I don't see knots at all. This time, I see beauty and a knowing kind of grace; a spirit who through moving and turning around obstacles, traumas, challenges, grew compassion, wisdom, beauty, humanity, divinity in its rich complexity. Surrender to what is, yet never stop striving.

As I contemplate the palm tree - skinny trunk shot straight up 30 feet unhindered, ending in an explosion of palm fronds, I realized my life would never be that. Not A to B, fast track to external success, showy in its ability to sprint upwards and bear fruit. No, I am the twisted tree, complex and individual, able to withstand inclement weather, gathering options, turning and turning to find the sun. I may not go in sequence, I may only reach 6 or 7 feet tall, but what a blessed journey.

Thanks

Thank you ladies. Your support means the world to me.

I like to think of myself as the strong-willed, strong-minded, self-motivated bulldozer type who is impervious to rejection or criticism, but the truth is that as strong as I am, I am also at times weak and have my moments of doubt.

I am learning to embrace the totality (brokenness and wholeness), go gently with myself, and realign with the inner-truth that propels me forward.

The truth is that inspiration (alignment) and breakthrough can occur at any moment. And so, onward we go...hand in hand…