Saturday, February 25, 2017

The Crush of Comparison


Comparisons will kill you. Faster than lightning can split a tree, comparing your life to someone else will crush your very Soul. Eat away at it until all that's left is a crusty, bitter wisp that was once YOU. Without any semblance of Hope. With nary a trace of Joy.

Comparisons will CRUSH YOU.

Social media has an enormous impact on the millions who seem not to know how to live any other way. Many people live their lives precariously through others' videos, photos, SnapChats, Tweets, etc., ad nauseum. It's as if they don't know how to actually LIVE.  Instead, they spend their waking lives with their heads bent over a SmartPhone, watching the world through that six inch screen, wishing it was their life.

It is as annoying as it is terrifying.

And with every luxury home and snazzy car and new wardrobe and snappy pair of shoes and endless stream of vacation pictures and large-spread gourmet meal, the people who are not so "blessed" cringe and wish and shrink ... and die a little more.

"Oh how I wish I could live in that house."

"Wouldn't it be wonderful to vacation like that?"

"I'll bet that car rides like a dream."

"I'd give my left arm for those boots."

"If only I had a body like that."

"I will never get to...."

Little by little, the dreams of the Have-Nots get dimmer and dimmer, until they are lost in the mists, never to be dreamt again.

CRUSHING.

I hope that as you read this, you will understand just how detrimental to your Soul these comparisons are. I hope you will forgo the envy and turn off your phone or laptop or tablet or iPad or whatever device you've got your face buried in...and DO SOMETHING that makes your Soul SING. Do something that makes you laugh or bring a smile to someone else's face of causes a critter to purr with love.

I hope you will remember that you are enough
and that you matter
and that nothing is impossible
and that whatever it is that makes your heart dance is the thing that counts the most
and that you are loved
and
your dreams are YOURS.

Leave everybody else out of it.

Comparisons will crush you.

JUST. STOP.



Thursday, February 16, 2017

TAKE. TWO. SECONDS.

A few lifetimes ago, when I was a lass, I had a coach who was, unquestionably, one of my greatest teachers. She coached our softball team for four years. In that time, I was voted MVP every year. I was the smallest player on the team. I was also one of the most natural. As in, my talents for the game came quite easily. I was fast, had a smokin' hot arm, and no fear. I played shortstop. I was also the lead batter. Which is to say, I led the lineup because I could hit and get on base most of the time. In short, I was one badass ball player.

At the beginning, when Coach first took on the job, she recognized my talent and she pushed me. HARD. When everyone else was allowed three errors before having to "take a lap", I was not. I had to take a lap around the entire field for every error I made. Like I said. She pushed hard. I remember how much I disliked her for that. I remember wanting to quit. I remember thinking she was out to get me. But I didn't quit. I was too stubborn to quit. My mission: to prove her wrong. To prove to her that I was the best. Now, looking back all those years ago, I realize that was precisely why she did what she did. She knew. She saw who I was. She knew exactly how to get me to grow.

One of the things I did that drove her insane was throw side-arm. I could run at the ball, scoop it up at a dead run, and toss it to first base without missing a beat. Problem was, it didn't always get there. The side-arm was wild. Not nearly as accurate as throwing over the shoulder. But it didn't feel natural to me. No matter how many laps I had to take, I just couldn't seem to make the switch. All the while, between when she started working with me on that toss, and when I finally got it, there were three words she'd yell, at the top of her lungs, any time I missed the throw. Those three words were:

TAKE. TWO. SECONDS.

She insisted that if I took those two seconds, I could get my proper stance, think about how I was going to throw, and actually hit my target. She was trying to break a habit. I was fighting her. Eventually, though, I got tired of all those laps and decided to listen to her guidance. All it took was for me to decide. Once I did, and I followed her instruction, my accuracy increased tenfold. Those two seconds made all the difference in the world. Hence, the MVP awards.

Now, decades later, I can still hear her voice. Sometimes I wake up in the dead of night, with those words echoing in my head. Usually there are also tears rolling down my face. And I always know that the words are coming to me because there's something I'm not paying attention to. Something that is demanding my attention, and I'm either ignoring or not hearing. Always, it is something important. Always, it is the sound of her voice that wakes me up.

To this day, I am profoundly grateful to Coach. She impacted me in so many ways that, even now, I can call on her wisdom whenever I am in need. We spent many years together, she and I. Because... she was my sister. She was the one who knew me better than I knew myself. She left us last year. But still I can hear her voice.

TAKE. TWO. SECONDS.

Monday, February 13, 2017

Coyote's Visit

Two nights in a row, I was awakened by the shrill voice of my Sophie (at three o'clock, for Pete's sake!). On the first night, I thought it was one of the many feral cats who cruise by our French doors, on their way to where ever it is they go at three o'clock in the freakin' morning. But last night, her voice was so shrill it made me sit straight up in the bed and scream some incoherent something (I was in deep sleep, after all). It woke me instantly, and there, in the window I saw Coyote peering through the glass. The hair on my neck stood straight UP. Sophie was going ballistic. I was so surprised by his face, all I could do was yell, "GET OUT!!!"

Poor Sophie. She dashed straight to the bed, jumped up, and stood there shaking. So did I.

Then...I got curious. I grabbed a robe and my flash light and ran out the door. I scanned the yard to see if he was still here. I ran to the front of the house. No Coyote. I walked all the way around the house, slowly and as quietly as I could. Nothing.

When I finally came back inside, my heart had resumed its usual rhythm and my breathing had softened. Sophie was still on the bed, shaking. I got back in bed, wrapped her in my arms, and stroked her til she settled.

Now, first let me say: I am not normally freaked out by Coyote. We see them often 'round these parts. Primarily because we (as in Humans) have encroached on their territory and frankly, they've got nowhere else to go. Second, there are lots of small critters for them to hunt. Rabbits, rodents, and the ever-growing number of Chihuahuas that, for some unknown (and not very smart) reason, folks who move out to "the country" seem to think will be the perfect dog for their new digs. NOT smart. While Chihuahuas can, indeed, be great hunters of small rodents, they are also the perfect snack for a Coyote. And these same stupid people let their tiny dogs out at night, without supervision, giving Coyote perfect opportunity.

Like I said. NOT smart.

Anywhooo....

I laid there for a long time, seeing that face staring through the window. It was eerie how it just stood there, looking at me, as if it had something to say. Poor guy. I probably freaked him out too. {I can be VERY loud.} So, I laid there, seeing his face, wondering what, exactly, Coyote was trying to tell me. I've been in this house for FIVE YEARS and have never seen one in the yard, let alone at my door.

So why did Coyote show up? And what did he want to say? Was he here to warn me about some trickiness going on in my world that, maybe, I wasn't yet on to? Or did he want me to know that the work I'm currently doing is opening up some things that maybe I'm not quite prepared for? Maybe he just wanted me to know that my efforts have not gone unnoticed. Or that it'd be a good idea to stay alert. Or...

HELLSBELLS! There could be a zillion things Coyote came to say.



One thing is certain, though. Coyote doesn't just show up for no good reason. The fact that he actually peered through the window instead of just strolling by tells me it wasn't just some hungry critter looking for food. Fact is, there are seven chickens just across the yard that I'm pretty sure he could've gotten to, had he wanted. He did not go near that coop. I know. I watched. Wherever he went, he did it in a hurry. And even though I know a Coyote can scale a six foot fence with ease, I also know that the many other dogs surrounding this property would have, at the very least, smelled him. Not a sound to be heard. By any of them.

I still haven't gotten his face out of my head. In some weird way, I kind of want him to return. So that, maybe, I could ask him what he's got for me. Don't know if I've got that much JuJu, but I do know that, sooner or later, we will meet again. 

Friday, February 3, 2017

a thought...for your weekend ~

If you don't like where you are,
MOVE.
You are not a tree.


Thursday, February 2, 2017

Dear Chuck Lorre ~

 Dear Chuck Lorre ~
First, I would like to thank you, again, for your personal contribution to my well-being. You crack me UP. Each and every time you write a Vanity Card. Even the ones that say, "I got nothin'." The result of these more-than-momentary giggle fits is some serious kick-ass on an over-eager autoimmune system that might otherwise be my demise. In short, (too late), you make me laugh. HARD. My AI system buckles from the weight of said laughter. I feel immense relief. I am profoundly grateful.

Second, I would like to rescind my previous 457 marriage proposals. I don't think it'd work out. I don't really believe in the institution of marriage (or any other, for that matter) so I feel it would be both hypocritical and doomed to fail were you to accept. However, I do have an alternative proposal that might be far more appealing (and equally beneficial). To both of us. So...here goes:
I propose that we meet, say, once every two weeks (terms are open for negotiation), in the middle of your horribly hectic day. Maybe Tuesdays and Thursdays. Or...we can discuss what works best for each of us. During these meetings, I will provide a homemade yummy dish of your choosing (provided the terms "gluten-free" and/or "vegan" are not in the mix. Sorry. I don't cook like that. I'm Italian, for Pete's sake!) and you can do what you already do. That is to say...just tickle the hell outta me with your ridiculously funny shit.

Mr. Lorre, I await your response with great eagerness. No. I'm not kidding. If you say, "Let's do it!", I'll see you next week
.

Lastly, for those of you who don't watch The Big Bang Theory, here is Mr. Lorre's latest offering. I'm tellin' ya, the guy slays me.

Chuck Lorre Productions, #550
 Trucks and miscellaneous construction equipment emit a piercing 'beep-beep-beep' noise when they back up. I've always assumed this sound was a response to past litigation. Insurance companies, seeking to avoid lawsuits, decided this was a defendable way to warn stupid people that a large vehicle was sneaking up on them. In other words, flattened morons can't sue a construction company if they are duly alerted by a series of shrieking beeps. Now I should make clear, I'm totally in favor of signaling dumbasses. But what I do not support is the 'beep-beep-beeping' happening every friggin' morning at the break of friggin' dawn. Who's up to be run over that early?! And I'll take it one step further. I think the drivers of these vehicles back up way more than necessary. I think they secretly enjoy the fact that they're waking up people for miles around. I think they think, "I'm up early, so screw you, you get up too." So anyway... that's what I think. I have no solution to this situation. I just wanted these people to know that I'm on to them, and I hate them.


Saturday, January 21, 2017

Invictus

In light of the Circus yesterday (in D.C.), I waited until today to give meself a minute to process. Truth be told, I did NOT participate. Not in any way. No TV. No social media. No involvement of any kind.

Why?

Because, my friends, as I've said over and over and over again: Joy is a CHOICE.

Yesterday I chose Joy.

Here's the thing: I knew that watching the inauguration would cause my stomach to heave and my heart to ache. I knew that no matter what, there wasn't a single thing I could DO to change the fact that a new president would be taking office, regardless of my opinions, preferences, emotional distress. SO, rather than participate in all that, I chose, instead, to lavish myself with all things JOYFUL.

It was an intensely stormy day here. HUGE wind and rain and cold and wildness. I love that kinda day. I began with an hour of study. Next, I spoke to a dear friend about the many blessings in our lives. Did some yoga. Had a long, hot shower. Took my darlin' Sophie to the nearest strip mall where we could walk without getting soaked. {She is not a fan of walking in the rain.} Once home, I poured a lovely glass of wine, fired up the fireplace AND the oven, and set about the happy task of making some oh-so-yummy Double Chocolate Banana Bread.

{YUMMMMM!}



Oh yea.

Whilst the bread was baking, filling our humble abode with its fabulous aroma, we sat on the bed and watched the storm. The wind was howling so loudly it drowned out the music I had playing. Sophie was still shivering, both from being a bit damp and from her fear of storms, so I wrapped her in a blanket and cuddled her until she settled down. I had candles at the ready in case the power blew, and felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for this place we call Home. In all, I spent the entire day in my happy, loving space, with nary a care in the world.

The Circus would go on, with or without me. And THAT, for me, is A-OK. I write these words now for a couple of reasons. First...I do believe in active participation, whatever that means to you. I believe that we ALL make a difference. I believe that in order for there to be GOOD in this world, we must do our part. There is a saying: "All that is needed for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing." This strikes a chord for me. {I hope it does for you too.}

Secondly, there are many ways for us to participate. What matters is that we DO. Whether it is marching for the rights of HUMANS, or getting in the faces of those in office, writing to share good messages, or lighting a candle and saying a prayer. All these things matter BECAUSE of the energy required to do them. Energy is energy. Regardless of how small and insignificant it may seem, what goes OUT will come back 'round. So...

You can participate without leaving your Joy behind.
You can focus your intentions to good end.
You can make a difference, even if you are but one person (aren't we ALL?).

OR...

You can choose to ignore it all and let someone else do the work.
Just remember: There is power in numbers.
We DO have the power to change what needs changing.

It is, as always, a matter of CHOICE.




Wednesday, January 18, 2017

A Little Reminder...

Not sure when I wrote about this first go 'round, but it doesn't really matter. I feel the urge to remind you AND meself about the words we choose to use. It seems to be coming up a lot lately; folks who say things like "Man, I'm old!" or "I am so tired." or "I am sick of...." What they may not realize is that whatever follows "I am..." is precisely what is becoming. It is a non-stop ticket to THAT. Whatever "that" may be.

This isn't just some fuufuu nonsense I'm talking here. Words are sound. Sound is energy. Energy is circular. These are facts, not LaLa bullshit. The saying "what goes 'round comes 'round" is pretty much the same as what some folks like to call Karma. Whatever you put out, comes back. I've been known to call it the The Boomerang Effect.

I know these things to be true (for me) because I have experimented with them, over and over and over again. AND, just because you don't believe it, does not make it false. Belief certainly makes a thing more powerful, but not believing doesn't make it not so.

The point here is this: YOUR WORDS ARE YOUR WAND. You don't have to believe me. You can do your own little experiments. You can focus on what you're saying and see if those words don't bring a "thing" to manifest. Haven't you ever noticed when you get all excited about something and then, in short order, that something starts showing up all over the place? You start looking for that "thing". You're excited (energy). You're talking about it incessantly (more energy). You can't stop thinking about it (even more energy). Pretty soon..."it" shows up.

You say something like, "It was pure magick!"

You are absolutely correct.

So I'll say it again:

Your. Words. Are. Your. Wand.

If you want to BE old, keep saying it aloud.

I am old.

If you wish to be well, say that.

I am well.

It won't be long before your body agrees.

If you think it doesn't matter, that, too, is your choice.

Just because you don't believe it does not mean it isn't true.

Your words are your wand.
Choose them wisely (AND KINDLY!)

The End.