Six Years With An Angel

It was six years ago today that Sophie and I met. It had been four days since Bruzer's passing and I was a complete mess. I couldn't stop sobbing. I couldn't eat or sleep or think. A "mess" is a vast understatement. But then, on the morning of the 26th of April, I got up and decided that I would not torture myself a moment longer. After a bit of research (Humane Society) I took off for the coast.

The moment I saw her I thought, "Ohhhhh! I hope she picks me!" Because in my heart I KNOW that it is they who choose us. NOT the other way around. She was in her very large kennel with her "roommate" and a woman who was sitting on the floor giving them cookies. I didn't think I stood a chance. When given the choice between a cookie and a stranger, what would YOU choose?

I watched for a few minutes, just taking it all in. The woman finally saw me standing there and asked would I like to meet one of them. I told her yes I would but after they got their treats. She said that they'd had enough; then she said "which pup would you like to meet?"

I pointed to Sophie (who, by the way, had been named "Silver Lining". What the hell??? What kind of name is THAT for a Dog?!). She put Sophie on a leash and walked her out of the kennel, gave me a handful of treats and handed her over. We then walked to an enclosure that had artificial turf and a bench on either end. She told me to spend as much time as I liked and when I'd made up my mind, to walk her into the lobby.

Being the smart puppy she is, she'd seen me put those little treats in my pocket and knew they were for her. She didn't make one bit of fuss as we walked into the enclosure. I sat down on one of the benches and asked her to "SIT". She looked at me with a blank stare, wagging her tail, waiting for a treat. I had to giggle. Cutest face EVER!

I spent about half an hour with her and then asked if she wanted to come home with me. By that time all the cookies were gone and still she followed me from one end to the other. I asked again. She wagged her tail and walked to the gate. I had my answer.

It's about an hour's drive from that shelter to our home. She rode the whole way with one paw on my leg. I was laughing and crying simultaneously. Mostly because I just KNEW that my Bruzer had a hand in the whole affair. Also because I could feel my heart healing as we drove.

From the moment she walked through the door, she was home. I knew it. She knew it. And I like to think Bruzer knew it too. She did not erase the pain of losing him, she merely made it more bearable for me. Hers was a sketchy past. Someone had found her living on the streets of El Centro, pregnant and filthy and starving. How she ended up on the coast is a mystery. One thing is certain: she was on her way to ME.

There isn't a day that passes that I don't thank her for coming to live with me. Each morning I sing her a song that says so. And she wags her tail and gives me kisses and I know she's grateful too.

Living with an Angel is about as good as it gets.

Sophie chose Joy.
Me too. 

Highly Sensitive Beings

In light of recent events on our Mighty Blue Orb, it has become especially apparent (to me) that those of us who are {what other folks like to call} "too sensitive" may be overwhelmed with energy. Not the kind of energy that makes you want to climb Everest. Rather, the kind of energy that can crush you like a bug under a giant's foot. It feels like you cannot breathe. It feels like your brain is about to explode. It FEELS way too much. And it can be awfully tough to handle. That is, unless you realize that your ultra sensitive Self is as strong as it is sensitive.

Highly Sensitive Beings, (HSBs, from here on out), are often the brunt of jokes and abuse and misunderstandings. Often, an HSB will attempt to compensate for her/his sensitivity; they might wear a bravado that is unwarranted. Or use a big voice. Or pretend to be something they are not. These defense mechanisms are merely an attempt to protect the HSB from the often callous Humans who cannot see that the masks are merely that: MASKS. HSBs will sometimes run from the world, simply because they cannot bear the weight of their emotional "gifts". Because, as often as not, they are NOT gifts at all. They are the bane of existence to those who feel so deeply.

Given that there is so much suffering brought to our attention these days, what with a media that prefers sensationalism over truth, and nearly every Human with a "smart phone" thinking that maybe they can grab their 15 minutes of fame, inundation makes for even more weight on such sensitive souls. Not an easy cross to bear.

So...I thought today might be a good day to remind those of you who are feeling overwhelmed to take a few steps back. Step away from the news and the intrusions of a world gone mad. Turn off your gadgets. Lock the doors. Hide, if you must. And gather your Self. The one that is strong and resilient and hopeful. The one that gives you the power to be who you are. Gather that Self and treat it to a day (or five!) of pampering. Ignore the rest of the world. It's okay. You are allowed. In the name of self-preservation. Because if YOU don't, who will?

I know it's hard. I know it hurts. I know you think you may never find your Joy again. But I promise you: You WILL. It WILL get better. It WILL pass. You CAN go on. And you must. Because the WORLD NEEDS YOU. The world is better for having you in it. You are a rare and beautiful flower whose beauty can heal and nourish and scatter Joy like no other.

Yes. I'm talking to YOU.

Hold on to your Joy. It is there, in your heart. It will guide you, if only you allow it.

JUST TRUST.

Don't Worry, Be Happy

Saw something late last night that troubled me. BIG time. As I tend to lean to the "obsessive", I knew immediately that I was going to have to whip out my Tool Box and put that crap OUT. Woke up this morning and the first thing that popped into my head was this song.

First let me say, I'd never seen the video before today. And I'm guessing I haven't heard the song in years. So when I dashed to YouTube to find it, and then watched/listened, I was happily surprised when I saw who is in it. You may or may not know...but if you click on it, you'll get to lift yourself up, even for just the moment (although, I suspect, longer than a moment!)

So...don't worry. BE happy!

Cheers and giggles from the Hot Zone

The Joy Jar

A few years back, I read something somewhere (...don't ask me where. Does it really matter?) about a thing called a Joy Jar; its purpose being to jot down those little moments of Joy when they happen, fold up the note, and drop it into the jar. Then, after a time, (a month, a year, tomorrow...when you're having a super-shitty day), you pop open the jar and read your notes.

Needless to say (but you know I'm going to say it anyway), when you read back those moments of Joy, it brings you right back to the moment...AND the JOY...and your whole perspective changes. Pretty cool, huh?

WHAT A GREAT IDEA!!!

So, I found what I thought might be a proper Joy Jar, pulled out my favorite linen paper, and began looking for things to jot down so I could fill it up. What I didn't know at that moment was how much it would change my day. And when I say "day", I mean all the days that ensued.

You see, when you set out on a new quest, if you're anything at all like me, you get a bit obsessed. As in: you think about it.

All.
The.
Time.

That is to say, if you happen to have an "obsessive personality". (I do.) So it makes sense that I would (think about it all the time). The psychological professionals (of which I am...or was...) call this character trait "Obsessive/Compulsive Disorder", or OCD.

I call it TENACITY.

{At the risk of getting side-tracked here, I'm going to offer up my perspective on this whole OCD thang. I promise I'll get back to the Joy Jar. HONEST!}

First of all, is it just me or has the world gone mad with labeling shit that needn't be labeled? My best guess is that the ginormous pharmaceutical companies are behind all this labeling. Because, let's be honest here, if they label it as a "disease/disorder", more folks are likely to buy the drugs they think they need to overcome said disease/disorder. I have three words for you: Shaking Leg Syndrome.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME????

It's not a "syndrome". It's a symptom of someone who may or may not have anxiety of the highest order. OR they have some energy that needs expending. OR they don't like sitting down for long periods of time. OR....(oh, there are so many...) What it is NOT is a DISEASE/DISORDER. Just something the puny human might like to take some time to address. As in: what are you so freakin' worried about???? You do NOT need drugs. You need to calm the fuck down and pay attention.

Okay. Rant over.

Back to the Joy Jar.

So, I found a proper jar and immediately wrote a little note to remember the finding of the idea and the excitement I felt in this new ritual. {I'm big on rituals.} Dropped my pretty little note into my pretty big jar and found a spot where I wouldn't forget to continue adding to it. Once finished with that task, I went about my day.

Wouldn't you know it, by day's end I had another note to add to my jar. And then...

The next morning, after the usual love fest with my SophieDawg (another of my greatest Joys), I remembered the Joy Jar. I said aloud, "today I shall look for moments that bring me Joy...and put a new note in that jar."

And so I did.

And the next day.
And the next.
And, while it hasn't been every day, it has been more days than not.

{Some days are tricky.}

I wake up in the morning, I snuggle with my puppy and thank the stars for a new day to LOOK FOR moments of Joy to add to my jar. And at the end of each year (or...on those super-shitty days), I pour the contents of the jar onto my bed and relive those moments that I might otherwise have forgotten.

AND...

Yes. It has changed my Life. It has helped me to begin each new day with a sense of adventure and HOPE for what this day might bring. It has helped me to remember that when I look, I find. Whatever I look for. It has helped me to stay afloat on those super-shitty days when I forget that there is far more good than not. Most of all, it has brought me those same joys, over and over and over.

And I can tell you, without question:

Joys NEVER get old.

All Else Is Clutter

I saw something today that got me to thinking about the term "reality". Thought now might be a terrific time to muse on the matter, in case someone needs a nudge.

It has become annoyingly apparent that there are people on this planet who would rather stare down at their phones than be part of the world around them. Just recently I did a little experiment (and you know how I love my experiments!). Whilst I was running errands, I started counting the number of people walking on the various streets I traveled. Of those, I counted how many were actually watching where they walked compared to those who were staring at their phones as they walked. I did this several times over the course of two weeks.

{As to why I would do such an experiment, the simple answer is: because I'm curious like that.}

The numbers were startling. More than EIGHTY PERCENT of the people I saw were completely unaware of their surroundings. They were so engrossed in their gadgets they were walking into signs and falling of curbs. It was shocking to me that none of them were hit by cars. I kid you NOT.

Then, today, I saw this comment from a darling woman who wondered aloud why it is that it's "socially acceptable" for people to wear a Virtual Reality headset or chase Pokeman all over town, yet unacceptable for someone to wave a magic wand and talk to faeries. She seemed a bit disturbed by this inequity; I felt her angst the moment I read the words.

It got me to thinking about all this "technology vs. spirituality" stuff. My immediate response to the woman was to offer some gentle words to remind her that "reality" is a personal thing.

Kinda like religion.

Ask anyone who believes in a god, and they'll give you a thousand reasons why theirs is the only god. They may even be able to quote their holy book, chapter and verse. But ask them why they believe it, and most couldn't tell you.

Flip side: ask anyone who swears by their technology and most will tell you, "it makes life easier or better or more efficient". As with religious zealots, they can give you reasons that may seem logical, but they couldn't tell you how or why it's improved their lives.

{Keep in mind, these are general observations. They do not apply to ALL people. There is a point to be made, hence the "general observations".}

And the point is this:

Comparisons will kill ya. Comparisons will cause great distress when one is unhappy with one's current circumstance. Comparisons fuel bitterness. Bitterness will keep you from flying.

That is, if you happen to believe in flying.

In the end, the only "reality" that matters is the one you create, the one you believe, the one you choose to live.

All else is just unnecessary clutter.

It also keeps you from your Joy.

{Please remember: you DO have a choice.}

HALLELUIAH BIRTHDAY ~

Tomorrow marks the day I made my grand entrance onto the Great Blue Planet. And so, I will begin yet another voyage 'round that enormous ball of energy that fuels Life here on Earth.

For reasons unknown to me, I keep hearing this line from an old Star Trek episode where this being from another planet addressed Captain Kirk and the crew as "ugly bags of mostly water". Don't ask me why it popped into my head. I don't have a clue. But as I sat here giggling (just as I did back when I first heard it), I couldn't help wondering about the connection between being ugly bags of mostly water living on a planet that is also mostly water.
Did Gene Roddenberry know something we didn't know all those years ago?
Did he see the havoc we would wreak on the only home we have?
Was he trying to tell us something?

Whether or not it is part of the larger cosmological plan or just some freak accident, it seems it ought to deserve at least a minute. I mean, if we're made up of the same stuff that the planet we're zooming around on, wouldn't you think we'd want to take better care? Of both?

I don't know about you, but I have not a stitch of an inkling of desire to go rocketing out into space to find some other planet to destroy. I like this one just fine. I like the Trees and the Critters and, sometimes, even the Humans that inhabit this place. I'd say it's worth caring for. I'll leave the space travel to whomever it is that finds such things exciting. Gimme a big ol' chunk of land with Trees and Water and Horses and Dogs and leave me to my livin'. I'll even grow my own food. Although, truth be told, I'd rather somebody else do that work for me. But, if push comes to shove (WHERE in the world did that saying come from?!) I could grow my own food. I'm not sure about the meat thang though. I'd probably have to go vegetarian because I don't see me killin' any Critters just so I can eat. I know. What a flippin' hypocrite.

HEY! DON'T JUDGE!

Anywayyyyyz....

I'm really rambling here. Mostly because there are about nine gazillion things flyin' through my brain and I figured this might be a good way to calm that zoom down. Also, I've got my perky on. Sometimes these things happen, you know? And when my brain goes into warp drive, I can usually find a bit of calm if I sit here and type. "Sometimes" being the operative word here. I suppose I could go whip up some dinner or roll around on the floor with my Dawg. But it's been a while since I dropped ya'll a line, so I figured maybe I could double down and see what might tumble outta this here brain of mine.

So...to wrap things up before I go meandering down a road I don't care to meander, I'll leave you with this:

Birthday or not, Life is a grand and glorious adventure and I am deeply grateful to have today and all the days after this one to explore and evolve and play with the Magick that is my Life.

Oh. One more thing, just in case you forgot...
Life is about choices.
JOY is a choice.
What do YOU choose?

HALLELUIAH BIRTHDAY TO ME!

The Date Is Unimportant...

Today is December thirtieth, in the year two thousand fifteen. (it's kinda weird typing out numbers like that. Fun. But weird. A new 'thang' I'm giving a go. More on that. Another time.) With less than twenty-nine hours left in this year, I'm guessing that lots of folks are planning activities for New Year's Eve. Or not. Maybe folks are basking in quiet reflection over the year's events. Or thinking how happy they are that it's almost over. Maybe, for those who have chosen solitude, there isn't much ado at all about the impending year's end. Whatever the case may be...one thing is certain: Magick abounds today, as it did yesterday, as it shall tomorrow. Doesn't really matter what the date is. Nor the circumstances you find yourself in. All that matters is that you remember a few things, and carry them with you all day, every day, without question or doubt.

Those few things are:

Magick abounds

YOU are the Magick

All that really matters is NOW

Trust in your Magick

{said another way: Trust in YOU}

That's pretty much it. We Humans like to make a big deal about "dates". We fuss over the details because it's Christmas or New Year's Day or your birthday or any number of calendar holidays. But in truth, every day is a holiday. Because the word itself, "holiday", is a bastardized version of "holy days". In my world, every day I awaken, realize I'm actually alive, have oxygen flowing through my lungs and blood running through my veins and food waiting to be eaten and this furry fluff of a dawg to snuggle with, every single one of those days is holy. 

What else is there to know?

Happy New Year, my Lovelies.

May each new day bring new ways for you to live your Magick.

Carry on!

Take This Day...

Take this day, and cherish every single moment.

Every.

Single.

Moment.

Say I love you.

Put pride aside and call that person you're angry with.

Open a door for the person behind you.

Let someone cut in front of you.

Smile at the Cranky Pants.

Hug your Critter.

Eat the ice cream.

Have a glass of wine.

Lay in the grass and watch the clouds go by.

Take this day.

And cherish.

Every.

Single.

Moment.

just a few words....

just a few words...and one AWEsome photo, to let you know I'm still here, thinking, loving, caring, evolving. for now...I wish you the most BEAUTIFUL day and night and tomorrow.....

A Bucket List (Instead)

Thought it might be fun to revisit the whole "New Year's Resolutions" thang for a minute. Just so that you'd have another option. Those of you who've been here a while know that I don't do NYRs. For those who are new to these Meanderings, I'll give you a brief overview:

In my estimation, NYRs don't usually work. Most folks last about a month (tops!) and then everything goes back to the way it was. Whether they're trying to lose weight, stop smoking, go to the gym, or simply break an annoying habit, most folks forget about the brain wiring part. It takes a minimum of 21 days to form a habit. That's not counting the chemistry part of things. Also, Merriam Webster defines the word as "the act of finding an answer or solution to a conflict, problem, etc." From where I sit, the word really doesn't suit. Not if you're wanting to make stuff better. It's the attitude that bothers me.

Einstein said that we cannot find solutions to problems with the same mind that created them. In my experience, he's right on the money. If you want to "solve" something, you've got to approach the problem from a different angle. So to speak.

That being the case (that is, if you're buying Einstein's theory. And I haven't lost you ...), what if, rather than making a list of NYRs, you made a Bucket List instead.

Whole different attitude.

Whole different feeling.

A Bucket List is generally thought of as a list of things you'd like to do before you leave the planet. Stuff you've always said you're going to do, but haven't. Some folks think a Bucket List is a bit on the morbid side, since they're talking about the whole "before I die" thang. Again, it's all in the attitude. We're not focusing on the dying part. We're focusing on the "fun stuff I want to do" part.

Still with me?

Okay.

So...a Bucket List for the year 2015. We'll put a time limit on this one. As in, "between now and December 31st, in the year two thousand fifteen, I will...."

And then you write down all the fun stuff you want to do this year.

{Aside #1: Examples:

• take a pottery class
• learn another language
• take a class at a local or online University in a subject I know nothing about
• hike through a Rain Forest 
• learn how to draw a horse
• make up a children's story, complete with cartoon-ish characters

end of Aside.}

Here's the thing about Bucket Lists versus Resolutions: one is a list of things we want to do. The other is a list of things that are, most likely, dreaded. AND...when we focus on the fun stuff, there are physical and psychological by-products. Our bodies actually secrete different chemicals (can you say "endorphin"?) when we're having fun; as opposed to the ones secreted in a state of dread, angst, anger, fear, etc. With the secretion of the former (endorphins, that is), our bodies will quite naturally respond with a whole host of "positive" changes.

Fun fact: happy people are much more likely to lose excess weight than depressed people. No kidding.

{Aside #2: that is, if they move a little more and eat a little less.}

The point is, by doing the fun stuff more and the dreaded stuff less, we end up being more productive on all counts. Fun = productivity. Just ask the folks at Google.

{Aside #3: if you've never seen the Google complex, do go have a look around. Click HERE}

Another terrific by-product: we're focused on those things that bring us JOY, which, in turn, leads to gratitude. Which leads to more of what we want and less of what we don't. Another fun fact.

To summarize: make a Bucket List. Read it every morning. Make arrangements/plans/phone calls/whatever it takes, to enable yourself to start checking things off that Fun List. By New Year's Eve (of this year), you'll not only feel better about your next trip 'round the Sun, you'll probably be in much better "shape", all the way around.

If you don't give it a go, you'll never know.

{Final Aside: Always choose Joy over Angst. ALWAYS.}

Stop Talking...

Isn't it funny how often we linger...or wallow...on stuff that is just plain icky? Don't you find it odd that of allllllllll the stuff you could think about, you dwell on the crap that is...crap? Or how, after a particularly awful encounter/event/conversation that leaves you feeling about as badly as you can feel, you find it necessary to retell it over and over and over? By the time you finish telling the story, whatever it happens to be, you feel just as horrible as you did when you first lived it. In other words, you tell the story, you live the story. All over again.

Why do we do that?

Why are we so compelled to re-live the shitty moments, telling the story to anyone who will listen? Do you suppose it's about some kind of need for validation? Or is it that we're looking for sympathy? Or maybe we feel like if we don't tell it to someone it'll eat us up from the inside out.

What do you think?

Do you find it easier to let go of things after you've told the story or do you just keep telling it over and over in some kind of twisted self-punishment? Like it's your fault that it happened. Like every single shitty thing that's ever happened is all your fault.

I'm thinking that our need to do this, to tell these awful stories, is one of the main reasons why there are so many uber-rich psychiatrists. For all the people I know who have ever had "therapy", I can't think of a single one who only went for a short time...and then stopped. As if there were no end to their "problems". As if every time they "fixed" something, something else popped up and they just had to keep going. For twenty-five years?

Never have understood that.

I don't begrudge anyone who wishes to get right in the head. Or heal some long-seated neurosis. I just don't understand how it could take twenty freakin' years to do it.

Call me crazy, but I'm thinking that maybe, just maybe, the reason why they can't seem to "get right" is because they keep talking about all the shit that someone else is telling them is "wrong".

Now, before you go getting all in a huff over my seemingly harsh analysis, please know that I really do believe that everyone ought to do things their way. I also believe that nobody can tell anybody else how or when or who is in charge of anyone else's healing. That being said, it seems to me, based on my personal experiences, that the very best way to get over anything is to just have a look, learn what you can, and ditch that shit with the first garbage truck that passes by. Toss it. Burn it. Write it a note and bury it in the ground. Say "Hasta la vista, MoFo!" and never look back.

Again. That's me.

You might be a person who feels a strong need to hash things over.
And over.
And over.
And over.
Until you get sick of hearing your own voice telling that tired-assed story.
Then...maybe...you leave it be.
Maybe.

If you happen to be one of those people, I have a question:

How's that working for you?

If you aren't one of those people but you find yourself stuck somewhere you really, really don't want to be, I will offer this:

STOP TALKING ABOUT IT.

Let me say that again.

STOP. TALKING. ABOUT. IT.

It might take you a few dozen tries, but I can guarantee that if you will just stop talking about whatever it is that's bugging you, that thing will get smaller and smaller and smaller and then

It will float off into the Cosmos, never again to suck the joy outta you.

No kidding.

It's YOUR Life ....

I made this slideshow some time ago...and a friend recently reminded to watch it again. Go figure!