Out for a late night walk.
That primal, want-to-run-through-the-woods-naked urge strikes as I notice grass peeking up through the cracked pavement.
I am that grass.
I am struggling to rise above the layers of asphalt covering my raw earth.
All of me is striving to blossom, to unleash my potential into a full open field of tall, green grass.
But so far, like the earth under pavement, only pieces of me have found cracks in the hard, grey layering.
Glimpses of my truth are peaking out in clusters of fighting, bright green blades of pure, earthly grass. More and more everyday, every season.
Unlike me, the grass did not weep when the hot asphalt was poured over it.
Nor did the grass seeds underneath become stricken with despair over the defeat of the last blades that were covered.
No.
They gracefully bowed down to the destruction.
And the seeds continue to be dormant, patient until the pavement cracks and bestows the required elements for growth: the right amount of water, the right amount of air and the right about of sunshine. No emotional bullshit attached.
My own dormant character aspects work in the same way (albeit, they had/have their fair share of emotional bullshit attached!). They’re waiting for the proper elements to line up, to aid in my growth. My required elements may not be as simplistic as water, air and sunshine. Though, maybe symbolically they are.
Maybe my three elements are: the right amount of truth, the right about of forgiveness, and the right amount of love. Perhaps when those three elements combine in areas of my psyche, is when growth is stimulated and potential is reached.
My road differs from the paved road in another way.
I am the one who controls whether or not city workers come to add more layers, covering up my protruding grass. Unlike real roads, I have the conscious ability to not let anyone, city worker or not, destroy my freshly grown greeneries—the freedoms I worked so hard to bring to the open air. I have the conscious choice to stop asphalt workers dead in their tracks: DO NOT ADD ANOTHER LAYER— OPEN FIELD IN PROGRESS!
I have evolved enough to know that it is, ultimately, my choice to become buried and destroyed.
Realizing I have choice and control over my road, my spirit, my potential is in itself a cluster of grass protruding from my road, my path. Revealing another simple, yet profound, truth that has taken years to escape through the cracks.
Showing posts with label evolution. Show all posts
Showing posts with label evolution. Show all posts
The Secret of the Secret!
It takes more than just thought: you have to put work into it!
Yep. Sorry to break it to you. The bearer of bad news, I am.
When I first watched the film “The Secret” I was captivated. I was enthralled at the power of creating abundant lives for everyone in the world!
What!? Human thought can make things happen!? I can attract things in my life!?
Does everyone know this!? EVERYONE HAS TO KNOW THIS!
I wanted to football huddle the global community and shout “THREE-TWO-ONE WE GOT THIS! HUT!” (hut? Do they say that then? I digress)
But seriously, I was all: HOLY SHIT! What power!
OK! I want this-this and this and I wana go here-here and here and I want to spread this love and empower everyone in the world!
*THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK*
No results.
What the--? ← was my reaction to my lack of money and travel and spreading of world peace (and I may or may not have tried to "think" those few pesky stretch marks off my ass… wouldn’t YOU like to know!)
So what was the missing link to all that think-wanting?
I mean, most of the things I “desired” were things that would help myself, my family, my friends, and thousands of other people connect and live joyfully and explore the world for all it’s wonder… “Is the secret bullshit?” I wondered. (and shouted at times of stressful events: THE SECRET IS BULLSHIT!!)
But what I didn’t know: before I am able to receive and spread all those gifts of abundance: I need to get into a place of receiving, in my mind, in my heart.
I need to dig out the blockages of what is actually hindering me from living the life I want and imagine (for if there weren’t any blockages, wouldn’t I already be living that life?)
The Secret movement is powerful. It was powerful for me. It got me to really look at what I truly wanted to attract in my life. Which is its true message. We can have all the things we want in life! We just need to decide what we want, take steps towards making it all happen, and work on ourselves to make sure we are open and ready to receive all those possibilities! (so, it’s not just hold my breath, think it and wait for Fedex to drop it all off? Boo. —though who knows, maybe some people are naturally that blockage-free and receptive!)
With the work I have been doing with Yoga and Enlightenment studies, I have begun to see the mess of blockages that are deep within my subconscious. With studying my own mind and my relation to my world around me, I see that I wasn’t in a position to receive all the things I still desire. I would’ve only scared them all away back then!
So with each day, with each meditation, with each yoga session, with each reading, with each conversation, with each stressful event: I am discovering my truth, revealing my power, and attracting all the beautiful things I can harness in this world… stay tuned, world peace coming up in about 9-12 months!
(I am glad to say, I have collected some of the beautiful things through my thinking and opening: another beautiful child to love, finding my way to yoga and meditation, meeting and connecting with more and more people, a car I love, and true love for myself ← that last thing is HUGE! (oh and a wicked vacuum, too ;) (inside joke!)
(I wanted a bird so badly when I was a child. One that would land on my head, wash my dishes and help put my clothes on, like the ones in Cinderella and Snow White... Well here's my Bella, she lands on my head, has yet to master the other talents ;)
What abundance do you want in life? And what can you do to start attracting it?
(for more information about the Secret and the Power, go here: http://thesecret.tv/)
Yep. Sorry to break it to you. The bearer of bad news, I am.
When I first watched the film “The Secret” I was captivated. I was enthralled at the power of creating abundant lives for everyone in the world!
What!? Human thought can make things happen!? I can attract things in my life!?
Does everyone know this!? EVERYONE HAS TO KNOW THIS!
I wanted to football huddle the global community and shout “THREE-TWO-ONE WE GOT THIS! HUT!” (hut? Do they say that then? I digress)
But seriously, I was all: HOLY SHIT! What power!
OK! I want this-this and this and I wana go here-here and here and I want to spread this love and empower everyone in the world!
*THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK*
No results.
What the--? ← was my reaction to my lack of money and travel and spreading of world peace (and I may or may not have tried to "think" those few pesky stretch marks off my ass… wouldn’t YOU like to know!)
So what was the missing link to all that think-wanting?
I mean, most of the things I “desired” were things that would help myself, my family, my friends, and thousands of other people connect and live joyfully and explore the world for all it’s wonder… “Is the secret bullshit?” I wondered. (and shouted at times of stressful events: THE SECRET IS BULLSHIT!!)
But what I didn’t know: before I am able to receive and spread all those gifts of abundance: I need to get into a place of receiving, in my mind, in my heart.
I need to dig out the blockages of what is actually hindering me from living the life I want and imagine (for if there weren’t any blockages, wouldn’t I already be living that life?)
The Secret movement is powerful. It was powerful for me. It got me to really look at what I truly wanted to attract in my life. Which is its true message. We can have all the things we want in life! We just need to decide what we want, take steps towards making it all happen, and work on ourselves to make sure we are open and ready to receive all those possibilities! (so, it’s not just hold my breath, think it and wait for Fedex to drop it all off? Boo. —though who knows, maybe some people are naturally that blockage-free and receptive!)
With the work I have been doing with Yoga and Enlightenment studies, I have begun to see the mess of blockages that are deep within my subconscious. With studying my own mind and my relation to my world around me, I see that I wasn’t in a position to receive all the things I still desire. I would’ve only scared them all away back then!
So with each day, with each meditation, with each yoga session, with each reading, with each conversation, with each stressful event: I am discovering my truth, revealing my power, and attracting all the beautiful things I can harness in this world… stay tuned, world peace coming up in about 9-12 months!
(I am glad to say, I have collected some of the beautiful things through my thinking and opening: another beautiful child to love, finding my way to yoga and meditation, meeting and connecting with more and more people, a car I love, and true love for myself ← that last thing is HUGE! (oh and a wicked vacuum, too ;) (inside joke!)
What abundance do you want in life? And what can you do to start attracting it?
(for more information about the Secret and the Power, go here: http://thesecret.tv/)
Telling my babies to “heal” the boo-boos.
Today, the 2 year old has bitten her mouth 3 times, in the same place.
There’s a big chunk of skin that is irritating her a lot.
I told her to say, “heal mouth, please” (and she says it in the cutest way!)
I can tell by how she holds her cheek every so sweetly that she understands what I’m telling her, that she already understands the power of communicating with her body.
I tell her: tell your body to heal and go to sleep and sleep all night and when you wake, it will be all better, the pain will be all gone.
She delights in this possibility and runs to her bed and cuddles her blanket to her chin, she reaches out for kisses and hugs, and as I walk away I hear her softly say: “heal mouff, p'ease”.
This makes me smile on every level possible. (And I cant wait to find out what she thinks and feels in the morning!)
She believes.
I’ve learned a lot about the bodies healing ability this past year.
I’ve been going on and on about “healing meditation” and how darn easy it is!
And I would never go on and on about something that I didn’t first test on myself, successfully.
I had back pain for most of my life, as well as knee and hip pain.
But now, since learning the healing meditation technique, I haven’t had many issues with either!
And if I do, I quickly do a meditation on it and it vanishes, either instantly or the next day (some serious pains require a deeper meditation before bed- some may even take a few days.)
I want my children to be aware of this power, harness it as early as possible. I want them to know that the body, as well as its self-regulated functions, also takes instruction from the mind, we can speed up the healing process by believing we can! (You must fully believe!)
I tell my 10 year old about it all the time, she’s does it whenever she’s hurting.
Now that my 2 year old understands, I will remind her during every pain she has as well.
It's empowering to feel your power!
There’s a big chunk of skin that is irritating her a lot.
I told her to say, “heal mouth, please” (and she says it in the cutest way!)
I can tell by how she holds her cheek every so sweetly that she understands what I’m telling her, that she already understands the power of communicating with her body.
I tell her: tell your body to heal and go to sleep and sleep all night and when you wake, it will be all better, the pain will be all gone.
She delights in this possibility and runs to her bed and cuddles her blanket to her chin, she reaches out for kisses and hugs, and as I walk away I hear her softly say: “heal mouff, p'ease”.
This makes me smile on every level possible. (And I cant wait to find out what she thinks and feels in the morning!)
She believes.
I’ve learned a lot about the bodies healing ability this past year.
I’ve been going on and on about “healing meditation” and how darn easy it is!
And I would never go on and on about something that I didn’t first test on myself, successfully.
I had back pain for most of my life, as well as knee and hip pain.
But now, since learning the healing meditation technique, I haven’t had many issues with either!
And if I do, I quickly do a meditation on it and it vanishes, either instantly or the next day (some serious pains require a deeper meditation before bed- some may even take a few days.)
I want my children to be aware of this power, harness it as early as possible. I want them to know that the body, as well as its self-regulated functions, also takes instruction from the mind, we can speed up the healing process by believing we can! (You must fully believe!)
I tell my 10 year old about it all the time, she’s does it whenever she’s hurting.
Now that my 2 year old understands, I will remind her during every pain she has as well.
It's empowering to feel your power!
How I “Combat” Depression…
The place I started was removing the idea of “combat” or “fight” or anything that will add defense and resistance.
Years ago, I would start out with the idea of fighting it… I’d threaten it: SCREW YOU DEPSRESSION I WILL FIGHT YOU TO THE DEATH (Its or mine? I could never tell.)
Even more years ago, I would hide the fact (ok, completely deny the fact…) that I was depressed.
Me?
Depressed?
NoooOOOOOooo!!!!....................... yes I was.
I tried so hard to pretend to be “normal” (whatever that is!) Act as if feeling like killing myself is a normal occurrence in everyone’s life and being angry at the state of my world was my “thing” … that it didn’t mean that I was depressed, I was just edgy! (pfft!)
Then one year I finally gave in and admitted there might be a problem. (I had a daughter, I needed to get out of bed and stop crying!)
My next question was: what the heck now?
For the first week or 4 I cried.
I cried and cried and cried.
I felt (almost-but not quite) every ounce of pain and despair that I had bottled up over the years.
I gave in to the tugging of my depression. Let it consume me. Went into it.
And soon enough, my tears were dried up… but I was still sniffling.
I sniffled my way to a doctor I didn’t know and sat as a lump on his chair and stated: I think there is something wrong with me.
The typical list of questions ensued and my answers poured out.
The honesty, which I had been hiding from any one and every one, started driveling out in snot and tears and gasps for air to this Doctor who had never seen me before.
He smiled (?) and decided I was depressed and had “Generalized Anxiety Disorder” (in other words: I was freaking out about everything and had no sense of who I was!)
He prescribed me pills. At first I was reluctant. I didn’t want that. I wanted someone to talk to, who would fix my thoughts.
I asked him could he refer me to a psychologist. He kinda brushed his hand and said the pills should be enough, but I could talk to Dr. So and So when he gives me the prescription, if I wanted.
Ok, I sobbed. I felt a little excited to be able to FINALLY talk about all the pain I had been carrying.
The next day I went to Dr. So and So and quickly felt uneasy when I walked in the door.
The environment was old and outdated and not welcoming (not a place that cared about my pain AT ALL!) There were people just handing him paper and he’d give them pills in return.
No one was talking.
My thoughts: WTF!?
I finally saw a real-life pill pusher! Sketched-out, lost people were lined up, not wanting to talk, waiting for refills.
THIS was NOT for me. But I took my pills and left. I decided to take it in to my own hands for a while. Just pills. Lets see if they work.
I was on them for 3 months, 3 long, shaky months. At first I thought they were working, but I began to realize I was just numb.
I went to talk to two other psychologists, both of which felt much too sterile and stuffy for me. I did not feel comfortable so I didn’t talk and didn’t go back.
I decided that pills were not helping and I didn’t want to be pumping myself full of the crap. So I stopped them. No easing off. Just stopped. By the end of the first day I had to call my mom to come take my daughter. She had her for almost a week. I lay in the fetal position and cried and didn’t eat and smoked and shook. (I gave up smoking after this ,too!) It was one heck of a week!
When I finally got back to a normal I could handle, my daughter came home, and I started reading. And sadly, starting using my friends as psychologists. I would talk and talk about all the pain, all the suffering, and all my analysis of myself, my life.
That got old. And didn’t help as much as I was hoping (and I’d say it annoyed the shit out of the people in my life at the time.)
The reading helped, and I read a LOT. But it still wasn’t enough. For the next couple of years I started hunting for someone or something that I could release to. Searching obsessively for someone I could feel comfortable and safe with.
My first year of university I got excited about one of the schools psychologists I had met during an exam, he was babysitting us. He seemed so nice, so real, funny and he looked like he cared! I was excited. But sadly, it was a university, with thousands of stressed out students needing advice and listening to, he was much too booked up and I needed much more time than once every two weeks- MUCH more (...a lot of pain in there!) My hunt continued.
It took a long time. Luckily I was dealing quite well with the ups and downs of depression. I was a little bit more aware of it and all the readings were giving me tools to use when it hit, so it wasn’t as devastating as it used to be.
It was only one year ago that I found a true outlet. A place lead by a wonderfully receptive, supportive, and caring woman, Meranda Squires.
She ran the YES program (Yoga Enlightenment Studies). It was through the inner work and the sharing with her and the others in the group that I went deep into the roots of my depression and deep into all the reading I had done and finally got in touch in ways I had been searching for.
A place where I felt safe to share, to open up and to love myself. It helped me be honest with myself and others. That when I am feeling depressed, I’m not going to hide it and act as if I am a super hero. I’m going to go into it. I’m going to cry when I need to cry and I’m going to tell people that I’m crying and know it’s ok.
Being open about the truth of it all might help other people be open about their own pain and discomfort.
However, the YES program has ended for this year. And after going so deep into so many things, apart of me feels like I’ve picked old scabs and they are still bleeding from the edges now.
This time, this last month, when depression hit, I went into it.
I went in deeper than I have in years. I am missing my YES weekends, if I had a YES weekend this month I could've released so much of it there. But I don’t. I can’t. So I released it by driving for 6 hours on the highway, at night, in a rainstorm and fog, with moose crossing signs, a million transport trucks AND I was texting- without a seat belt on! And I didn’t die. (This proves to me that we die when we are ready to die, circumstances aren’t always the cause.) I felt a sense of risk, which helped. I felt a sense of being in the moment, in control- which also helped. I felt a sense of love for my family and pets sweep into my heart and dry up some of those tears. I meditated. I wasn’t scared and I cried and I stopped crying. And the next day, I felt much better, tired, but much better.
This September I start Yoga Teacher Training at the Lotus center. I’m excited. I think this will be a beautiful way to connect with my inner self and become more centered and better equip to deal with depression when it hits (and much less dangerous than late night highway driving!) I know yoga will help, it helps me now and I hardly have a clue what I’m doing yet!
It will also help me help other people, which is apart of my life's purpose (which I discovered with truth during YES).
I’ll end by quoting a family member: depression is not a choice, and we have no say in when it comes and goes, all we can do is cope with it while its here.♥
Truer words were probably spoken, but these are pretty true as well ;)
Years ago, I would start out with the idea of fighting it… I’d threaten it: SCREW YOU DEPSRESSION I WILL FIGHT YOU TO THE DEATH (Its or mine? I could never tell.)
Even more years ago, I would hide the fact (ok, completely deny the fact…) that I was depressed.
Me?
Depressed?
NoooOOOOOooo!!!!....................... yes I was.
I tried so hard to pretend to be “normal” (whatever that is!) Act as if feeling like killing myself is a normal occurrence in everyone’s life and being angry at the state of my world was my “thing” … that it didn’t mean that I was depressed, I was just edgy! (pfft!)
Then one year I finally gave in and admitted there might be a problem. (I had a daughter, I needed to get out of bed and stop crying!)
My next question was: what the heck now?
For the first week or 4 I cried.
I cried and cried and cried.
I felt (almost-but not quite) every ounce of pain and despair that I had bottled up over the years.
I gave in to the tugging of my depression. Let it consume me. Went into it.
And soon enough, my tears were dried up… but I was still sniffling.
I sniffled my way to a doctor I didn’t know and sat as a lump on his chair and stated: I think there is something wrong with me.
The typical list of questions ensued and my answers poured out.
The honesty, which I had been hiding from any one and every one, started driveling out in snot and tears and gasps for air to this Doctor who had never seen me before.
He smiled (?) and decided I was depressed and had “Generalized Anxiety Disorder” (in other words: I was freaking out about everything and had no sense of who I was!)
He prescribed me pills. At first I was reluctant. I didn’t want that. I wanted someone to talk to, who would fix my thoughts.
I asked him could he refer me to a psychologist. He kinda brushed his hand and said the pills should be enough, but I could talk to Dr. So and So when he gives me the prescription, if I wanted.
Ok, I sobbed. I felt a little excited to be able to FINALLY talk about all the pain I had been carrying.
The next day I went to Dr. So and So and quickly felt uneasy when I walked in the door.
The environment was old and outdated and not welcoming (not a place that cared about my pain AT ALL!) There were people just handing him paper and he’d give them pills in return.
No one was talking.
My thoughts: WTF!?
I finally saw a real-life pill pusher! Sketched-out, lost people were lined up, not wanting to talk, waiting for refills.
THIS was NOT for me. But I took my pills and left. I decided to take it in to my own hands for a while. Just pills. Lets see if they work.
I was on them for 3 months, 3 long, shaky months. At first I thought they were working, but I began to realize I was just numb.
I went to talk to two other psychologists, both of which felt much too sterile and stuffy for me. I did not feel comfortable so I didn’t talk and didn’t go back.
I decided that pills were not helping and I didn’t want to be pumping myself full of the crap. So I stopped them. No easing off. Just stopped. By the end of the first day I had to call my mom to come take my daughter. She had her for almost a week. I lay in the fetal position and cried and didn’t eat and smoked and shook. (I gave up smoking after this ,too!) It was one heck of a week!
When I finally got back to a normal I could handle, my daughter came home, and I started reading. And sadly, starting using my friends as psychologists. I would talk and talk about all the pain, all the suffering, and all my analysis of myself, my life.
That got old. And didn’t help as much as I was hoping (and I’d say it annoyed the shit out of the people in my life at the time.)
The reading helped, and I read a LOT. But it still wasn’t enough. For the next couple of years I started hunting for someone or something that I could release to. Searching obsessively for someone I could feel comfortable and safe with.
My first year of university I got excited about one of the schools psychologists I had met during an exam, he was babysitting us. He seemed so nice, so real, funny and he looked like he cared! I was excited. But sadly, it was a university, with thousands of stressed out students needing advice and listening to, he was much too booked up and I needed much more time than once every two weeks- MUCH more (...a lot of pain in there!) My hunt continued.
It took a long time. Luckily I was dealing quite well with the ups and downs of depression. I was a little bit more aware of it and all the readings were giving me tools to use when it hit, so it wasn’t as devastating as it used to be.
It was only one year ago that I found a true outlet. A place lead by a wonderfully receptive, supportive, and caring woman, Meranda Squires.
She ran the YES program (Yoga Enlightenment Studies). It was through the inner work and the sharing with her and the others in the group that I went deep into the roots of my depression and deep into all the reading I had done and finally got in touch in ways I had been searching for.
A place where I felt safe to share, to open up and to love myself. It helped me be honest with myself and others. That when I am feeling depressed, I’m not going to hide it and act as if I am a super hero. I’m going to go into it. I’m going to cry when I need to cry and I’m going to tell people that I’m crying and know it’s ok.
Being open about the truth of it all might help other people be open about their own pain and discomfort.
However, the YES program has ended for this year. And after going so deep into so many things, apart of me feels like I’ve picked old scabs and they are still bleeding from the edges now.
This time, this last month, when depression hit, I went into it.
I went in deeper than I have in years. I am missing my YES weekends, if I had a YES weekend this month I could've released so much of it there. But I don’t. I can’t. So I released it by driving for 6 hours on the highway, at night, in a rainstorm and fog, with moose crossing signs, a million transport trucks AND I was texting- without a seat belt on! And I didn’t die. (This proves to me that we die when we are ready to die, circumstances aren’t always the cause.) I felt a sense of risk, which helped. I felt a sense of being in the moment, in control- which also helped. I felt a sense of love for my family and pets sweep into my heart and dry up some of those tears. I meditated. I wasn’t scared and I cried and I stopped crying. And the next day, I felt much better, tired, but much better.
This September I start Yoga Teacher Training at the Lotus center. I’m excited. I think this will be a beautiful way to connect with my inner self and become more centered and better equip to deal with depression when it hits (and much less dangerous than late night highway driving!) I know yoga will help, it helps me now and I hardly have a clue what I’m doing yet!
It will also help me help other people, which is apart of my life's purpose (which I discovered with truth during YES).
I’ll end by quoting a family member: depression is not a choice, and we have no say in when it comes and goes, all we can do is cope with it while its here.♥
Truer words were probably spoken, but these are pretty true as well ;)
I also have a (newly formed!) green thumb!!
Check out the start of my new passion-- growing things!
I have always loved plants and had futuristic dreams of being able to not kill my own garden-y things and actually grow things to eat! (There was a time when I thought: growing food to eat only happened on big farms and by supper market suppliers--not in my own house or backyard!)
I have always wanted to grow my own food, and after doing the Yoga Enlightenment Studies program last year, which taught me about the importance and the power in growing our own foods on our own lands, I decided to get at it, more seriously, once and for all! (I already had my apple, pear and pomegranate trees started before I started the YES program, it just strengthened my passion!) I hope to have enough land someday to grow miles (and greenhouses full) of food and flowers!
For now, I will start in my kitchen (while waiting patiently for my love to build me a greenhouse this week (right!? this week!? ;)
Here is a table full of things:
There are lots of different things here: 2 tomato plants, a hot pepper plant, 10 or so cucumber sprouts, rattle snake beans, carrots, an apple tree & a pear tree (both grown from seeds from an apple and a pear I ate!) and a couple of flowers and plants (not good with their names! lol Though, one is a 3-leaf clover!).
And here is my pomegranate tree (also grown from a pomegranate i ate!) (And I'm certain this must be the 1st pomegranate tree in Newfoundland, if someone else knows of one, please let me know! :)
(much taller than a gatoraide bottle...the bottle is a little bit out of scale because it's further up the table, but you get an idea!)
The following pic is a plant we bought that pretty near died after I re-planted it in a larger pot (it only has little roots, so it dehydrated in the soil, unable to reach its water! i felt bad.. poor lil thing!) BUT! With high hopes of saving it, I repotted it in a smaller pot (while expressing much love and hope for it while doing so!)
And here it is! The last elder of the bunch (hung-over from exhaustion of trying to stay alive for so long!) & the 1st little newborn sprouting up to show me: its LIFE WILL GO ON!)
(I swear, seeing these 2 teeny-little leaves poking through the soil today sprung forth emotions resembling the ones that I experienced by frist seeing my two newborn daughters faces... it was that: "OH MY BABY! IM SO GLAD YOU ARE HERE!" feeling... ;)
I love growing things! I cant wait to eat the ones we can eat (the ones that actually grow things edible!)
This is only the beginning... <3
I have always loved plants and had futuristic dreams of being able to not kill my own garden-y things and actually grow things to eat! (There was a time when I thought: growing food to eat only happened on big farms and by supper market suppliers--not in my own house or backyard!)
I have always wanted to grow my own food, and after doing the Yoga Enlightenment Studies program last year, which taught me about the importance and the power in growing our own foods on our own lands, I decided to get at it, more seriously, once and for all! (I already had my apple, pear and pomegranate trees started before I started the YES program, it just strengthened my passion!) I hope to have enough land someday to grow miles (and greenhouses full) of food and flowers!
For now, I will start in my kitchen (while waiting patiently for my love to build me a greenhouse this week (right!? this week!? ;)
Here is a table full of things:
And here is my pomegranate tree (also grown from a pomegranate i ate!) (And I'm certain this must be the 1st pomegranate tree in Newfoundland, if someone else knows of one, please let me know! :)
The following pic is a plant we bought that pretty near died after I re-planted it in a larger pot (it only has little roots, so it dehydrated in the soil, unable to reach its water! i felt bad.. poor lil thing!) BUT! With high hopes of saving it, I repotted it in a smaller pot (while expressing much love and hope for it while doing so!)
(I swear, seeing these 2 teeny-little leaves poking through the soil today sprung forth emotions resembling the ones that I experienced by frist seeing my two newborn daughters faces... it was that: "OH MY BABY! IM SO GLAD YOU ARE HERE!" feeling... ;)
I love growing things! I cant wait to eat the ones we can eat (the ones that actually grow things edible!)
This is only the beginning... <3
spider pics
I wrote a piece a while ago called: i dont kill bugs... (here: http://overzealousblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-dont-kill-bugs.html).
And, in it, I mentioned that in order to rid my fear of spiders I had to first begin to look at them "from A distance and on the internet"... from there, I realized, I had to also begin taking pics of them... so I could view them up-closer and see them in real life, while at the same time completely eliminating the possibility of one of them jumping on my face and laying thousands of eggs in my nose (they can't do that from a photo I'm CERTAIN! It's a good place to start!)
Bees and spiders are my favourite bugs, spiders because they were something I once feared intensely (insanely!) and, to me, they represent the ability to evolve past my own irrational fears... if I can love them after despising them for so long, then I can evolve past my other limiting thoughts and fears!
I took a few pictures over the last few days, and wanted to show the spiders some love and acceptance...(as if letting them live anywhere outside (and for the most part:) inside my house wasn't enough!)...
The first 5 photos were taking of a spider that was hanging in our entrance way.. (and yes, after taking a couple of pics, I let it go wherever it wanted (I didn't squat it, nor did I shoo it outside ;)
(Can you find it? It climbed really far away... Its web started at the bottom step- it took over the entire stairs!)
(Lookit the speck ;)
(Wonder how long it was in that fixture?)
This spider was in the window, caught it mid-climb...
(To me, there is something so inspiring about this picture, I think it's beautiful.)
And, in it, I mentioned that in order to rid my fear of spiders I had to first begin to look at them "from A distance and on the internet"... from there, I realized, I had to also begin taking pics of them... so I could view them up-closer and see them in real life, while at the same time completely eliminating the possibility of one of them jumping on my face and laying thousands of eggs in my nose (they can't do that from a photo I'm CERTAIN! It's a good place to start!)
Bees and spiders are my favourite bugs, spiders because they were something I once feared intensely (insanely!) and, to me, they represent the ability to evolve past my own irrational fears... if I can love them after despising them for so long, then I can evolve past my other limiting thoughts and fears!
I took a few pictures over the last few days, and wanted to show the spiders some love and acceptance...(as if letting them live anywhere outside (and for the most part:) inside my house wasn't enough!)...
The first 5 photos were taking of a spider that was hanging in our entrance way.. (and yes, after taking a couple of pics, I let it go wherever it wanted (I didn't squat it, nor did I shoo it outside ;)
This spider was in the window, caught it mid-climb...
What's the opposite of "riot"?
This kind of mob-insanity kinda scares the crap out of me.
That people can get so swept up in freaking out that they destroy a part of a city.
How does that happen!? Why does that happen!? (But really, it’s no worse than paid-for-by-the-government wars, though is it?)
Maybe it’s because of the amount of forced control they feel over their lives.
Maybe the rioters were trying to overtly take back some of their freedom, maybe they were driven to do it.
They may have reacted in an unnecessarily violent way… but I’m guessing, it’s societal and personal pressures, mixed with the lack of control exercised over their own lives and their lack of true, ultimate, joyful freedom that could be the significant causes to such mob lash-outs. A few people react in ways that look and feel just like real freedom and self-control, and that leads other people wanting in on that pseudo-freedom wave.
Who the heck doesn’t want to feel like they are in control and have full freedom? I know I do- all of the time! But I’m not going to burn a car over it.
Or would I? *cue slight paranoia over the state of the human mind*
How does mob-mentality work, exactly? I remember discussing it in Psych classes, but I never really dove into the workings of it. (This is where I make a note to go back to my psych book—and yes, I still have it!)
Let me see what google has to say…
On the website, wisegeek.com it says: Social psychologists who study group behavior tend to prefer terms like “herd behavior” or “crowd hysteria.”
Yeah. Not really the depth I was hoping to quickly stumble upon (and because I told myself I was going to write tonight, I’m not going to get into researching it just yet, but maybe I’ll do another post like that later).
I’m sure we all know what mob-mentality is… but do we know what it IS?? The root and cause of it? Why it happens?
Brings me to questions and paranoia’s like: Do only people who are similar in personality, or intellect, or blood alcohol level, or some other factor, react together in a mob? Or should unsuspecting people be wary of getting swept up, as if in a spontaneous tornado? Like, what if I had been on that street at that moment, might I have ended up smashing out a window or kicking a puppy or something?
(Not sure why my mind is comparing a riot in the streets of Vancouver to a mud slide in a rain forest (do mud slides even happen in the rain forests? OH there are SO many things in this world that I just don’t know for sure! Can we ever know it all!?))
And to completely contrast everything I just wrote:
I guess mob mentality offers a subtle, promising hope. If a mob of people can get so railed up over something like losing a hockey game, maybe mobs of people can spark spontaneous bursts of joyful evolutions over the streets of the world!
It shows that people really do have the potential to group together as one and completely change and take over a section of the world.
Can we create a mob-evolution? One where we over-throw all the things that don’t seem to “work” in society? Can we group together enough people working on their personal evolution to make everyone else on the street work on their own?
And instead of burning cars and robbing electronics, we plant vegetables and trees and use no cancer-causing chemicals!
It will take everyone together to create a world beautiful for everyone; natural, sustainable, full of love and animals!
Yes. I am a utopian. (but take that lightly… remember I don’t know what causes mob-mentality or if they have mud slides in rain forests, do you think I know the complete definition of a “utopian”? ;)
That people can get so swept up in freaking out that they destroy a part of a city.
How does that happen!? Why does that happen!? (But really, it’s no worse than paid-for-by-the-government wars, though is it?)
Maybe it’s because of the amount of forced control they feel over their lives.
Maybe the rioters were trying to overtly take back some of their freedom, maybe they were driven to do it.
They may have reacted in an unnecessarily violent way… but I’m guessing, it’s societal and personal pressures, mixed with the lack of control exercised over their own lives and their lack of true, ultimate, joyful freedom that could be the significant causes to such mob lash-outs. A few people react in ways that look and feel just like real freedom and self-control, and that leads other people wanting in on that pseudo-freedom wave.
Who the heck doesn’t want to feel like they are in control and have full freedom? I know I do- all of the time! But I’m not going to burn a car over it.
Or would I? *cue slight paranoia over the state of the human mind*
How does mob-mentality work, exactly? I remember discussing it in Psych classes, but I never really dove into the workings of it. (This is where I make a note to go back to my psych book—and yes, I still have it!)
Let me see what google has to say…
On the website, wisegeek.com it says: Social psychologists who study group behavior tend to prefer terms like “herd behavior” or “crowd hysteria.”
Yeah. Not really the depth I was hoping to quickly stumble upon (and because I told myself I was going to write tonight, I’m not going to get into researching it just yet, but maybe I’ll do another post like that later).
I’m sure we all know what mob-mentality is… but do we know what it IS?? The root and cause of it? Why it happens?
Brings me to questions and paranoia’s like: Do only people who are similar in personality, or intellect, or blood alcohol level, or some other factor, react together in a mob? Or should unsuspecting people be wary of getting swept up, as if in a spontaneous tornado? Like, what if I had been on that street at that moment, might I have ended up smashing out a window or kicking a puppy or something?
(Not sure why my mind is comparing a riot in the streets of Vancouver to a mud slide in a rain forest (do mud slides even happen in the rain forests? OH there are SO many things in this world that I just don’t know for sure! Can we ever know it all!?))
And to completely contrast everything I just wrote:
I guess mob mentality offers a subtle, promising hope. If a mob of people can get so railed up over something like losing a hockey game, maybe mobs of people can spark spontaneous bursts of joyful evolutions over the streets of the world!
It shows that people really do have the potential to group together as one and completely change and take over a section of the world.
Can we create a mob-evolution? One where we over-throw all the things that don’t seem to “work” in society? Can we group together enough people working on their personal evolution to make everyone else on the street work on their own?
And instead of burning cars and robbing electronics, we plant vegetables and trees and use no cancer-causing chemicals!
It will take everyone together to create a world beautiful for everyone; natural, sustainable, full of love and animals!
Yes. I am a utopian. (but take that lightly… remember I don’t know what causes mob-mentality or if they have mud slides in rain forests, do you think I know the complete definition of a “utopian”? ;)
You Are What You Think, Especially if It’s Ugly You’re Thinking.
I know it’s best to not think about the past. But there are times when it’s useful to go back there, to try and find out a little about how my mind is working now and to make sure I align my mind with the present moment, to be sure it’s not merely running from a subconscious, false belief.
All this thinking was brought on by finding old pictures of me that I dislike looking at. I was 18, in Niagara Falls with my family and I was so unconscious it was scary. (So unconscious, in fact, that I had my hair slicked back in a self-loathing pony tail with two pieces of “bangs” hauled out on either side, which resembled a handle-bar moustache…. placed on my head. Yeah. I hadn’t a clue!)
I hated myself and my life back then; and I hated how I looked, I hated people, I hated how lost and confused I was. I was dorky and ugly with not one ounce of Self developed. I had no idea who or what I was, I was alone in my internal self-war.
Back then, I was living in the past everyday. Going back to things bullies said to me years and years before, and what felt like every day after. I believed everything they said because I didn’t have a sense of who I was or what I could be. I sat desperately alone inside my self-loathing for the entirety of my teenage life. Spent much time and energy in seeing all my faults and believing all the crap people said about me, instead of building who I was and creating who I would be. (I was also very dumb ;)
An older boy I knew back then said to me a few times: you are going to be beautiful…when you’re older. This reconfirmed my notion that I was indeed ugly at the time, but it also planted a seed inside me. I’m not sure if he planned it that way, in hopes of saving my deteriorating appearance, or if he saw beauty in me that I hadn’t yet. Whatever way he meant it, it planted that seed, one that made me start looking for beauty inside myself.
Though because I was 16-18 when I heard that, I figured: I have a LONG way to go before I’m “older” (I'm there now, 30 is the beginning of "older" haha). So, it wasn’t until I was about 23-24 that I started to see some kind of beauty poking through, which correlates well to when I started hearing it from other people a little more (when I would hear someone tell me I was “beautiful” before those ages I would scoff at the lies they were trying to convince me of.) But during my mid-twenties, I started to pause, and Thank someone who would say that (instead of accusing them of being senile liars.)
I didn’t always completely believe them (even still, I have moments of doubt). But thanking people, instead of dismissing them, was my first step in becoming beautiful, like the boy from my past said I would be.
I hear it all the time from people now, that I’m gorgeous, beautiful, natural, etc. I still battle with my inner scowl, which tells me I’m the ugly duckling I always was, but luckily that voice is getting smaller, loosing its power. And the truth is coming forth, that all humans are beautiful.
I do see the beauty in this human form I have, I see the beauty in every human form around me.
So I’m guessing it has been my efforts to create my inner beauty that has slowly been releasing an outer beauty, and my quest to see the beauty in each and every person I see, all of which is what other people are seeing.
I always thought I would be made fun of if I spoke of being any sort of beautiful (people in my past also didn’t take well to other people being confident in any way, you would get ridiculed for “thinking too much of yourself”), therefore I always felt uncomfortable telling myself I am beautiful. It has only been lately that I see how important it is to tell myself that, that I am honoring, not only myself, but the Creator. And after being so negative for so many years, I feel I owe the universe some good vibes!
So, here, I’ll say it, I’ll mean it, and I’ll ignore the inner voice that’s disagreeing with me: I AM BEAUTIFUL! (And so are you ;)
All this thinking was brought on by finding old pictures of me that I dislike looking at. I was 18, in Niagara Falls with my family and I was so unconscious it was scary. (So unconscious, in fact, that I had my hair slicked back in a self-loathing pony tail with two pieces of “bangs” hauled out on either side, which resembled a handle-bar moustache…. placed on my head. Yeah. I hadn’t a clue!)
I hated myself and my life back then; and I hated how I looked, I hated people, I hated how lost and confused I was. I was dorky and ugly with not one ounce of Self developed. I had no idea who or what I was, I was alone in my internal self-war.
Back then, I was living in the past everyday. Going back to things bullies said to me years and years before, and what felt like every day after. I believed everything they said because I didn’t have a sense of who I was or what I could be. I sat desperately alone inside my self-loathing for the entirety of my teenage life. Spent much time and energy in seeing all my faults and believing all the crap people said about me, instead of building who I was and creating who I would be. (I was also very dumb ;)
An older boy I knew back then said to me a few times: you are going to be beautiful…when you’re older. This reconfirmed my notion that I was indeed ugly at the time, but it also planted a seed inside me. I’m not sure if he planned it that way, in hopes of saving my deteriorating appearance, or if he saw beauty in me that I hadn’t yet. Whatever way he meant it, it planted that seed, one that made me start looking for beauty inside myself.
Though because I was 16-18 when I heard that, I figured: I have a LONG way to go before I’m “older” (I'm there now, 30 is the beginning of "older" haha). So, it wasn’t until I was about 23-24 that I started to see some kind of beauty poking through, which correlates well to when I started hearing it from other people a little more (when I would hear someone tell me I was “beautiful” before those ages I would scoff at the lies they were trying to convince me of.) But during my mid-twenties, I started to pause, and Thank someone who would say that (instead of accusing them of being senile liars.)
I didn’t always completely believe them (even still, I have moments of doubt). But thanking people, instead of dismissing them, was my first step in becoming beautiful, like the boy from my past said I would be.
I hear it all the time from people now, that I’m gorgeous, beautiful, natural, etc. I still battle with my inner scowl, which tells me I’m the ugly duckling I always was, but luckily that voice is getting smaller, loosing its power. And the truth is coming forth, that all humans are beautiful.
I do see the beauty in this human form I have, I see the beauty in every human form around me.
So I’m guessing it has been my efforts to create my inner beauty that has slowly been releasing an outer beauty, and my quest to see the beauty in each and every person I see, all of which is what other people are seeing.
I always thought I would be made fun of if I spoke of being any sort of beautiful (people in my past also didn’t take well to other people being confident in any way, you would get ridiculed for “thinking too much of yourself”), therefore I always felt uncomfortable telling myself I am beautiful. It has only been lately that I see how important it is to tell myself that, that I am honoring, not only myself, but the Creator. And after being so negative for so many years, I feel I owe the universe some good vibes!
So, here, I’ll say it, I’ll mean it, and I’ll ignore the inner voice that’s disagreeing with me: I AM BEAUTIFUL! (And so are you ;)
Random Blog Alert (home, life, parenting and personal evolution)
Sometimes I get so overwhelmed by housework I have thoughts of burning the house down and moving into a clay hut in the woods. Well, ok, everything but the “burning the house down” part… I would just give everything away and leave the house for the next poor shmuck who wants to live in such a “modern” house (and I’m not using those quotation marks loosely there! Wtf is modern anyhow? I like huts. There’s nothing wrong with a hut! (ok. Maybe it’s not perfect, but at least I wouldn’t have to do laundry… because well, if I live in a hut I might as well not wear any clothes, right? Sounds good to me. Though, my hut will need internet connection.)
NOTE TO SELF: answer my child right away when she runs to me saying “mommy look, mommy look, mommy look, mommy look” …because, note: responding on the second “mommy look” is the only other acceptable “mommy look” to respond to.
It’s rude to ignore people! -even IF they are disrupting the best sentence the world has ever seen to untangle a peace sign necklace from a piece of fence from the horse play-set. DO NOT CHOOSE TO IGNORE THE CHILD! Because by the time she gets to the 9th or 10th “mommy look” it will be rage-filled screams of urgency.
Ok. So I exaggerate sometimes.
And exaggerating may go against the “yogic” way, but it makes a more entertaining read.
See? Right there! I justified my use of exaggeration! Thereby, justifying a reason I am not fully living up to the yogic lifestyle I have been learning about for the past 9 months. (RANDOM ENLIGHTENMENT STUDIES OBSERVATION!)
At least now I am more awake to moments I do that. (Well, ok, awake to MOST of the moments I do that.)
Anyhow, after that random interruption, back to whatever it was I was saying or something completely different, I'm not entirely sure:
Attempting to work and study at home, during moments of harvesting creativity and independence in a 2 year old through alone playtime, is quite the juggling act, which, from many time to many time, leads to dropping the flaming torches, or balls or scarves, whatever one feels safer juggling. (NOTE: For anyone who isn’t a parent: even though the child is “playing alone” she is in the same room, right next to me, and I am giving her a lot of my attention, hence the reason I can usually only focus on something for a short amount of time, and why I end up writing about her interrupting me in the middle of a blog post.)
The movie “Motherhood” (Uma is AWESOME in it, btw!) totally reminded me of so many times and things in my life (some “times and things” a little more than others!)
Especially, the part about choosing to stay home with baby, while putting other types of dreams on-hold, well not really “on-hold”, so much as decreasing the amount of hours put into those dreams, and not killing myself in the process.
The millions of new tiny little things (and big humongous things!) the mind starts running with after the babies are born, takes up quite a lot of space and energy in the mind and hours in the day.
All minds are different remember, so for some people, the shift is easy, natural, smooth, and they don’t think about much else, they have the benefit of being able to comfortably not do or worry about much else. Which is great for those people!
But I am totally not one of those people.
And I would’ve been more envious of those people years ago, but yogic belief reveals the harm in it- and I can’t afford any more energy leaking!
My mind needs to process, analyze, evolve, try as many new things, and connect with as many new people, as possible! Therefore, my parenting style reflects this: lets do as much as we can together, with other people, and during our alone times. (That is a summed up version of how I’m living right now.)
Which leads me to point out one of those things in life I’m currently dealing with: the undying feeling that I could be doing more! I need to do MORE! WHY AM I NOT DOING MOOORRRREE!? Which can cause impatient feelings during my days (sometimes feeling suffocated, like a pillow firmly placed over my face (oh yes, and I am NOT exaggerating there!)
Also, this “need to do more” curse, can usually lead to a trail of unfinished projects (and dishes) and drop in confidence, but more on those defects later. ;)
Even though I am doing a lot of study and working and exploring new things, while aiming to be the best Mom I can be- I still battle with the need to DO MORE- MAKE MORE MONEY-BE MORE GODDAMIT!
Luckily, a thing about children: with a surprise hug, giggle, moment of trust or a homemade card, they snap that pillow off my face and remind me of the importance and love with which I brought them into the world and all feelings of impatience about certain things are replaced with feelings of importance of other things yet. (Yes, I tend to write very 16th century poetic sometimes. It’s a flaw readers and natural born editors will have accept about me;)
My kids are the reason I am a mother, the reason I have been able to feel love at its highest capacity. They are the reason I dedicate so much energy into evolving my own mind and life and ways of thinking about the world, in order to love them and support them as much as I can, in as many ways as possible.
Though, I still screw up and get stressed out at times. Because, they, my sweet little love forces, are also, at times, my biggest sources of stress. Which just affords more opportunities to learn and evolve! Thank you my stressful little precious children!)
Meh. I’m not perfect----yet ;)
Now, back to that darn pile of laundry.
NOTE TO SELF: answer my child right away when she runs to me saying “mommy look, mommy look, mommy look, mommy look” …because, note: responding on the second “mommy look” is the only other acceptable “mommy look” to respond to.
It’s rude to ignore people! -even IF they are disrupting the best sentence the world has ever seen to untangle a peace sign necklace from a piece of fence from the horse play-set. DO NOT CHOOSE TO IGNORE THE CHILD! Because by the time she gets to the 9th or 10th “mommy look” it will be rage-filled screams of urgency.
Ok. So I exaggerate sometimes.
And exaggerating may go against the “yogic” way, but it makes a more entertaining read.
See? Right there! I justified my use of exaggeration! Thereby, justifying a reason I am not fully living up to the yogic lifestyle I have been learning about for the past 9 months. (RANDOM ENLIGHTENMENT STUDIES OBSERVATION!)
At least now I am more awake to moments I do that. (Well, ok, awake to MOST of the moments I do that.)
Anyhow, after that random interruption, back to whatever it was I was saying or something completely different, I'm not entirely sure:
Attempting to work and study at home, during moments of harvesting creativity and independence in a 2 year old through alone playtime, is quite the juggling act, which, from many time to many time, leads to dropping the flaming torches, or balls or scarves, whatever one feels safer juggling. (NOTE: For anyone who isn’t a parent: even though the child is “playing alone” she is in the same room, right next to me, and I am giving her a lot of my attention, hence the reason I can usually only focus on something for a short amount of time, and why I end up writing about her interrupting me in the middle of a blog post.)
The movie “Motherhood” (Uma is AWESOME in it, btw!) totally reminded me of so many times and things in my life (some “times and things” a little more than others!)
Especially, the part about choosing to stay home with baby, while putting other types of dreams on-hold, well not really “on-hold”, so much as decreasing the amount of hours put into those dreams, and not killing myself in the process.
The millions of new tiny little things (and big humongous things!) the mind starts running with after the babies are born, takes up quite a lot of space and energy in the mind and hours in the day.
All minds are different remember, so for some people, the shift is easy, natural, smooth, and they don’t think about much else, they have the benefit of being able to comfortably not do or worry about much else. Which is great for those people!
But I am totally not one of those people.
And I would’ve been more envious of those people years ago, but yogic belief reveals the harm in it- and I can’t afford any more energy leaking!
My mind needs to process, analyze, evolve, try as many new things, and connect with as many new people, as possible! Therefore, my parenting style reflects this: lets do as much as we can together, with other people, and during our alone times. (That is a summed up version of how I’m living right now.)
Which leads me to point out one of those things in life I’m currently dealing with: the undying feeling that I could be doing more! I need to do MORE! WHY AM I NOT DOING MOOORRRREE!? Which can cause impatient feelings during my days (sometimes feeling suffocated, like a pillow firmly placed over my face (oh yes, and I am NOT exaggerating there!)
Also, this “need to do more” curse, can usually lead to a trail of unfinished projects (and dishes) and drop in confidence, but more on those defects later. ;)
Even though I am doing a lot of study and working and exploring new things, while aiming to be the best Mom I can be- I still battle with the need to DO MORE- MAKE MORE MONEY-BE MORE GODDAMIT!
Luckily, a thing about children: with a surprise hug, giggle, moment of trust or a homemade card, they snap that pillow off my face and remind me of the importance and love with which I brought them into the world and all feelings of impatience about certain things are replaced with feelings of importance of other things yet. (Yes, I tend to write very 16th century poetic sometimes. It’s a flaw readers and natural born editors will have accept about me;)
My kids are the reason I am a mother, the reason I have been able to feel love at its highest capacity. They are the reason I dedicate so much energy into evolving my own mind and life and ways of thinking about the world, in order to love them and support them as much as I can, in as many ways as possible.
Though, I still screw up and get stressed out at times. Because, they, my sweet little love forces, are also, at times, my biggest sources of stress. Which just affords more opportunities to learn and evolve! Thank you my stressful little precious children!)
Meh. I’m not perfect----yet ;)
Now, back to that darn pile of laundry.
It’s OK to be GAY.
In order for that belief to be the norm in society, we must start referring to homosexuality as normal and acceptable, early in children’s lives.
When my first child was very young (daycare age!) someone asked her: do you have a boyfriend yet?” To which I quickly added: “or girlfriend” (and gave a supportive smile to the question asker- didn’t want to offend. And she actually said to me later, how great that was to say, that she never thought about it that way before.)
It was the first time (and not the last!) my daughter had been asked that question, so I was very happy I was quick to the draw on it. I wondered, what if she was gay!? What if she wanted a girlfriend? Wouldn’t being asked “do you have a boyfriend” make her feel she couldn’t have a girlfriend, or that there was something wrong with wanting a girlfriend? Or if she wasn’t gay, wouldn’t it make her think that having a boyfriend is more “normal and acceptable”? THAT was not the type of thinking I wanted her to develop. I want my children to be open to any possibility and accept people for their differences, and be free to choose for themselves.
So, it’s either scrap the question altogether, or get real about it… some kids are gay, don’t make them feel bad about it or make other kids judge them for it.
I also give my kids the longwinded statement: there’s: boyfriend and girlfriend, girlfriend and girlfriend, and boyfriend and boyfriend- everyone is different! :) ← never forget the smile!)
In order for the teasing in schools to stop and more acceptance to evolve, everyone needs to be asked the question that way: ‘boyfriend or girlfriend’, just so they stop for a moment, think, and are made to see the normality of the fact that it IS possible to be gay—and that it’s OK!
(photo: these are peace-rocks i tend to make whenever i go on a hike.. if you see one, let me know! ;)
When my first child was very young (daycare age!) someone asked her: do you have a boyfriend yet?” To which I quickly added: “or girlfriend” (and gave a supportive smile to the question asker- didn’t want to offend. And she actually said to me later, how great that was to say, that she never thought about it that way before.)
It was the first time (and not the last!) my daughter had been asked that question, so I was very happy I was quick to the draw on it. I wondered, what if she was gay!? What if she wanted a girlfriend? Wouldn’t being asked “do you have a boyfriend” make her feel she couldn’t have a girlfriend, or that there was something wrong with wanting a girlfriend? Or if she wasn’t gay, wouldn’t it make her think that having a boyfriend is more “normal and acceptable”? THAT was not the type of thinking I wanted her to develop. I want my children to be open to any possibility and accept people for their differences, and be free to choose for themselves.
So, it’s either scrap the question altogether, or get real about it… some kids are gay, don’t make them feel bad about it or make other kids judge them for it.
I also give my kids the longwinded statement: there’s: boyfriend and girlfriend, girlfriend and girlfriend, and boyfriend and boyfriend- everyone is different! :) ← never forget the smile!)
In order for the teasing in schools to stop and more acceptance to evolve, everyone needs to be asked the question that way: ‘boyfriend or girlfriend’, just so they stop for a moment, think, and are made to see the normality of the fact that it IS possible to be gay—and that it’s OK!
(photo: these are peace-rocks i tend to make whenever i go on a hike.. if you see one, let me know! ;)
What has our society done to breastfeeding?
Better yet: what has our society done to the female mind!?
I believe, the societal thought surrounding breasts is so perverted that some women struggle with the idea of breastfeeding. Women’s breasts have been THAT over-sexualized in the media (and by other people!) that, to a lot of women, their true function seems foreign, unnatural and “rotten” (according to a woman that used to be on my facebook.)
How can someone refer to feeding a baby, the way it was intended, as “rotten”? Would this same mother be terrified to change a poopie diaper? Baby poop (especially bottle-fed baby poop!) is much more “rotten” than an infant suckling a breast for nourishment.
I just don’t get it.
(babys first breastfeeding moment, my second baby.)
I was 19 when I had my first baby (I planned and prayed for 5 months for her!). Right from the start of wanting a baby I knew I was going to breastfeed, because well, really, I was in-tune with the natural life force of my body, it was the most natural thing to do.
I was lucky that I had an aunt who breastfed her baby.
I was around 10 when I walked in the living room and saw a babies face reaching toward her breast. (I can still see it in my mind after all these years, this kind of transcendental moment sticks with me!) It was the first time I had ever seen breastfeeding. I don’t even know if I hadeven heard of it before that moment! I was mystified. I was overflowing with love and joy at this new, delicate sight before me (as I turned my head away real fast, because I didn’t want her to think I was weird for wanting to stare (again, due to societies pressures and effects!)
It was at that moment I finally realized the point of boobs. That they weren’t just proof that God was a perverted old man who violated women’s bodies by putting those multi-sized bags of fun on the front end of us—they actually served a purpose! A beautiful, once-in-a-life-time purpose!
I couldn’t wait to have a baby to breastfeed.
Breastfeeding is as natural as the heart pumping blood. It’s a bodily function. The same mentality that would crack up laughing at multiple fart jokes reminds me of the mentality that makes fun of and is uncomfortable about breastfeeding.
Breastfeeding is the human thing to do! Our bodies do a lot of strange things, a lot of things that could be considered ‘disgusting’.
For example: breastfeeding is as natural as, and much more beautiful than, puking up your guts. And I get that some people don’t enjoy puking and wouldn’t choose to do it 5-10 times a day everyday for a year or more, but there is a purpose in puking—it saves our lives! Therefore we should do it!
Thank you Creator, for giving us the beautiful functions of purging and breastfeeding!
Breastfeeding can have moments of discomfort, like many bodily functions. But that’s no reason to write it off and never do it.
It is truly a joy, once you get passed the week-long nipple burning/stinging hump, when the sight of a towel is threatening and you have to bite your knuckles or punch yourself in the face when the baby latches. (I wonder, does every mother endure that part? or just some?)
However, after that week, that scary painful week, it is amazing! Natural! Relaxing! And full of loving bonding moments! (and "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger"? After that week, your skin pretty much turns to cast iron, strong-GER!)
(NOTE: there will probably be more random, overwhelming moments throughout the duration of your breastfeeding career— don’t feel bad for wishing you could rip your boobs off just once! Just once!! To give to dad, or someone else, to fed… or you could just pump a bottle ;)
But breastfeeding is easy! It’s sooo easy! There’s no way I could manage doing laundry while safely bottle-feeding! But strap my baby in a snuggly- front on- and I have two free hands to sort the clothes!
(----> dont lemme hear you say breastfeeding limits you! This is me and my 2nd daughter breastfeeding during a 4 hour a hike! ;)
It’s also much cheaper than bottle feeding (provided you spend money on ensuring you are eating healthy, which also benefits YOU and BABY! Two for one babeee!)
It also includes all the necessary health factors for baby and for mom. (Reducing risk of breast cancer, ovarian cancer and a truckload of other benefits!)
Also, if you are concerned with getting rid of the extra baby tub you’ve gathered over the last 9 months (or the tub you’ve had most of your life!) then breastfeeding is better than spending 5 hours at a gym EVERYDAY. It burns about an extra 500 cals… minimum-to-no exercise required!
If you are pregnant, or plan to be someday, I suggest you educate yourself on the topic, instead of shying away thinking it's not for you. Read things, watch things, and try to find mothers who are breastfeeding who don’t mind being starred at or being asked a hundred-million questions.
It is your (and your child’s) natural birthright! Your breasts have an evolutionary purpose! Fulfill it! (pun intended…they get REAL FULL!)
I believe, the societal thought surrounding breasts is so perverted that some women struggle with the idea of breastfeeding. Women’s breasts have been THAT over-sexualized in the media (and by other people!) that, to a lot of women, their true function seems foreign, unnatural and “rotten” (according to a woman that used to be on my facebook.)
How can someone refer to feeding a baby, the way it was intended, as “rotten”? Would this same mother be terrified to change a poopie diaper? Baby poop (especially bottle-fed baby poop!) is much more “rotten” than an infant suckling a breast for nourishment.
I just don’t get it.
(babys first breastfeeding moment, my second baby.)
I was 19 when I had my first baby (I planned and prayed for 5 months for her!). Right from the start of wanting a baby I knew I was going to breastfeed, because well, really, I was in-tune with the natural life force of my body, it was the most natural thing to do.
I was lucky that I had an aunt who breastfed her baby.
I was around 10 when I walked in the living room and saw a babies face reaching toward her breast. (I can still see it in my mind after all these years, this kind of transcendental moment sticks with me!) It was the first time I had ever seen breastfeeding. I don’t even know if I hadeven heard of it before that moment! I was mystified. I was overflowing with love and joy at this new, delicate sight before me (as I turned my head away real fast, because I didn’t want her to think I was weird for wanting to stare (again, due to societies pressures and effects!)
It was at that moment I finally realized the point of boobs. That they weren’t just proof that God was a perverted old man who violated women’s bodies by putting those multi-sized bags of fun on the front end of us—they actually served a purpose! A beautiful, once-in-a-life-time purpose!
I couldn’t wait to have a baby to breastfeed.
Breastfeeding is as natural as the heart pumping blood. It’s a bodily function. The same mentality that would crack up laughing at multiple fart jokes reminds me of the mentality that makes fun of and is uncomfortable about breastfeeding.
Breastfeeding is the human thing to do! Our bodies do a lot of strange things, a lot of things that could be considered ‘disgusting’.
For example: breastfeeding is as natural as, and much more beautiful than, puking up your guts. And I get that some people don’t enjoy puking and wouldn’t choose to do it 5-10 times a day everyday for a year or more, but there is a purpose in puking—it saves our lives! Therefore we should do it!
Thank you Creator, for giving us the beautiful functions of purging and breastfeeding!
Breastfeeding can have moments of discomfort, like many bodily functions. But that’s no reason to write it off and never do it.
It is truly a joy, once you get passed the week-long nipple burning/stinging hump, when the sight of a towel is threatening and you have to bite your knuckles or punch yourself in the face when the baby latches. (I wonder, does every mother endure that part? or just some?)
However, after that week, that scary painful week, it is amazing! Natural! Relaxing! And full of loving bonding moments! (and "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger"? After that week, your skin pretty much turns to cast iron, strong-GER!)
(NOTE: there will probably be more random, overwhelming moments throughout the duration of your breastfeeding career— don’t feel bad for wishing you could rip your boobs off just once! Just once!! To give to dad, or someone else, to fed… or you could just pump a bottle ;)
But breastfeeding is easy! It’s sooo easy! There’s no way I could manage doing laundry while safely bottle-feeding! But strap my baby in a snuggly- front on- and I have two free hands to sort the clothes!
(----> dont lemme hear you say breastfeeding limits you! This is me and my 2nd daughter breastfeeding during a 4 hour a hike! ;)
It’s also much cheaper than bottle feeding (provided you spend money on ensuring you are eating healthy, which also benefits YOU and BABY! Two for one babeee!)
It also includes all the necessary health factors for baby and for mom. (Reducing risk of breast cancer, ovarian cancer and a truckload of other benefits!)
Also, if you are concerned with getting rid of the extra baby tub you’ve gathered over the last 9 months (or the tub you’ve had most of your life!) then breastfeeding is better than spending 5 hours at a gym EVERYDAY. It burns about an extra 500 cals… minimum-to-no exercise required!
If you are pregnant, or plan to be someday, I suggest you educate yourself on the topic, instead of shying away thinking it's not for you. Read things, watch things, and try to find mothers who are breastfeeding who don’t mind being starred at or being asked a hundred-million questions.
It is your (and your child’s) natural birthright! Your breasts have an evolutionary purpose! Fulfill it! (pun intended…they get REAL FULL!)
i dont kill bugs...
There was a time, many years ago, when I'd scream "KILL IT!" at the sight of anything crawly, except for maybe babies or drunk people, some drunk people. Anything with more than 4 legs would creep me out to the point of begging someone to end its life. What a waste of energy that was! (Not to mention the waste of a lil life force!)
Then one day, about 6 or 7 years ago, I asked myself: wtf is my problem? Why do I act like a sociopath at the sight of a bug? Why do I imagine these things crawling in my orifices, laying a billion eggs that will hatch a billion babies that will chew through my skin to escape? Why? It's irrational! Completely!
SO then I started to love them... from a distance and on the internet, at first.
Then I got closer, in real life. (--> check out the beautiful detail of this spider that was in my mothers window for an entire summer! IT'S GORGEOUS! And builds its house from its BUTT!)
One day, sitting on a back deck, an ant, an inch worm, and a fly all started to crawl toward me (no doubt testing my pledge of love!). I forced myself to suck-it-the-heck-up and let them crawl on my feet (while clenching everything I could clench!) and LO AND BEHOLD I didn't die and there was not one egg laid inside me anywhere! WOW! I fell in love (for real time!) right then and there! Wherein, began my protest of not killing bugs and never allowing anyone else to do it around me (if someone wants the bug gone, I'm happy to escort it back outside).
I even express the rule in my house: no killing bugs in my house! (I've wanted to make a sign that reads something witty like: if you kill a bug in my house, I will kill you. But that's not "witty" so much as it's "threatening" and a lil crazy.)
Me and my partner fell madly in love with spiders one early morning, laying for hours, wired on love. We let a teenyweeny baby spider crawl around our hands, letting it explore from my hand to his. I had been letting them live in random places in the house for a while at that point, but when I noted the remarkable contrast of that itty-bitty bug on his big strong human hand, it really warmed my heart! Bugs (as well as humans) are truly amazing beings! They have purpose and beauty just as anything does. And they are defenceless against us. Which is why I take a stand against the unconscious cruelty of random bug killing (Tho, I still eat chicken? yeah. I'm working on it. It's helping to picture chickens as big feathered vegetables).
(For the record: if your house is being infested with bugs to the point of them crawling on your children and eating all of your food, then yes, a lil genocide might be called for. But be sure to do it from a place of love in your heart, no anger on your tongue... or maybe let them have the house and you move? (Tad overzealous with that last thing?-maybe.))
Then one day, about 6 or 7 years ago, I asked myself: wtf is my problem? Why do I act like a sociopath at the sight of a bug? Why do I imagine these things crawling in my orifices, laying a billion eggs that will hatch a billion babies that will chew through my skin to escape? Why? It's irrational! Completely!
SO then I started to love them... from a distance and on the internet, at first.
Then I got closer, in real life. (--> check out the beautiful detail of this spider that was in my mothers window for an entire summer! IT'S GORGEOUS! And builds its house from its BUTT!)
One day, sitting on a back deck, an ant, an inch worm, and a fly all started to crawl toward me (no doubt testing my pledge of love!). I forced myself to suck-it-the-heck-up and let them crawl on my feet (while clenching everything I could clench!) and LO AND BEHOLD I didn't die and there was not one egg laid inside me anywhere! WOW! I fell in love (for real time!) right then and there! Wherein, began my protest of not killing bugs and never allowing anyone else to do it around me (if someone wants the bug gone, I'm happy to escort it back outside).
I even express the rule in my house: no killing bugs in my house! (I've wanted to make a sign that reads something witty like: if you kill a bug in my house, I will kill you. But that's not "witty" so much as it's "threatening" and a lil crazy.)
Me and my partner fell madly in love with spiders one early morning, laying for hours, wired on love. We let a teenyweeny baby spider crawl around our hands, letting it explore from my hand to his. I had been letting them live in random places in the house for a while at that point, but when I noted the remarkable contrast of that itty-bitty bug on his big strong human hand, it really warmed my heart! Bugs (as well as humans) are truly amazing beings! They have purpose and beauty just as anything does. And they are defenceless against us. Which is why I take a stand against the unconscious cruelty of random bug killing (Tho, I still eat chicken? yeah. I'm working on it. It's helping to picture chickens as big feathered vegetables).
(For the record: if your house is being infested with bugs to the point of them crawling on your children and eating all of your food, then yes, a lil genocide might be called for. But be sure to do it from a place of love in your heart, no anger on your tongue... or maybe let them have the house and you move? (Tad overzealous with that last thing?-maybe.))
I realized I’ve been traumatized by the media.
We learned an exercise called Trauma/Addiction Clearing in the Enlightenment studies group. (*British accent*: For to learn how to help others, one must help ones self first…*end accent*: which is why we do all the work on ourselves.)
We were asked to choose something from our past that was traumatizing, something that is affecting us somehow in the present moment, and intend to feel it directly. I went into my list of traumas (most of us have a list, right?), but nothing seemed deep enough (and I had already cleared some of the “big ones” earlier in the year). So I kept pondering…
Then we were asked to focus on something we are addicted to today. And the process was to seek the trauma that is at the root of the addiction (all addictions have a root cause).
I didn’t think I was addicted to anything anymore. After giving up smoking and other things years ago, and completely changing my eating habits (which means: my addiction to junk food was broken (or ok, loosened a great deal ;).
We were then told it could even be a thought or an idea, some kind of mental pattern we were addicted to.
That’s where I found mine.
The preoccupation I adopted at a very young age: my obsession with my appearance. (which I contest: started when I began watching TV and became in contact with other media (which is why I have cable, radio and magazines banned from my house, my quest to save my children in some way.)
Namely and initially (when I was young) it was feeling ugly and inadequate compared to the rest of the world, the people in my real world and the people in the fantasy/media world (actually: mainly the people in the fantasy world!)
Thankfully, that obsession no longer has the strong hold over me it once did, even though there are still issues surrounding it.
Today, it has slowly evolved into repeated questions in my mind: am I ugly or am I beautiful? And what does it mean to be either?
I am addicted to that thought. That’s my addiction.
I obsess over it at times. I really don’t know the answer, or if there is even one answer. Because I, logically, know that beauty is subjective and it really matters none what this exterior vehicle, the human body, looks like; and that it is all in what one feels on the inside that radiates out that is important… blah-blah-blah... I know this “intellectually”, but it doesn’t change the fact that I still have that obsessive thought.
How do I stop the dysfunctional thoughts? How do I evolve my mind from brainwashing that ran so deep in my youth?
Will there always be a shadow of it or can I completely remove the imprint and release the hold it has had on me for so long?
My trauma lies in my distorted perception of what “beauty” is.
All the images and messages I have seen in movies, on TV, in magazines, on websites; things I hear from other people (who are no doubt twisted on some level of thought by much of the same dysfunction!), things in music and even in radio ads! It is truly EVERYWHERE. A distorted idea of what it means to be and look like a woman.
(DISCLOSURE: I am not saying women have it worse than men, or that men don’t have some of the same issues, or that women are better than men. No.
I’m not saying anything to really “compare” women and men. I am merely stating a female perspective of the affect of all the images and ideas of women (and men) I have gathered over the years, from the media and also from the people around me. So don’t get all defensive about it. NOTE: the only people that will be upset at that last comment are the people who are feeling a little defensive about it ;)
I was a lonely, self conscious, unguided youth. As much as there were many people coming and going through my life, none seemed to let me in on the self-esteem secret, and I always felt lonely and different from everyone else.
It seems this loneliness really solidified in 5th grade. When my feelings of being separate really sunk in to my existence and became the norm for me; when I really started noticing other people, and myself in relation to them, and when other kids started picking on me and making me feel hideous.
This seems to correlate strongly with my increased viewing of television, movies and other forms of media. (To use a fitting cliché: which came first, the chicken or the egg? Both sides have great arguments.)
Now that I know all of that: how do I change it? How do we fix broken thought patterns or beliefs? Is it even possible? Or are we doomed to think the way we first learned?
I don’t believe that last thing. I believe we are supposed to evolve the messy mind and its distorted beliefs it developed in its younger days. And that hardship builds character in the human mind. So: the more trauma, the more character? Lets hope so.
During the Trauma/Addiction exercise, I released a lot of charge in relation to the trauma of being brainwashed by the medias portrayal of women and its effects on me as a young female. I am now in the next phase: watching my minds daily reactions and noting anything that may seem to stem from the past trauma and then release it, mindfully, with the intention of letting it go and seeking the truth.
Like yesterday, I felt much too “ugly” to go out in public (that’s normal right? *looks around for someone to agree, I mean, validate*), but I shook that off and went out anyhow and realized the world didn’t end when it saw my face. What a relief.
(kill your tv image found here: www.peersunited.com/tv-effect-on-teenagers )
(fakebeauty image found here: www.nowfoundation.org (national organization for women)
(the other two are my own)
has proven evolved, without a doubt...
that one can change ones thinking about spinach and can actually start to enjoy it, to the point of which one used to enjoy a bag of chips! that's evolution baby! ;)
(We mostly use Raspberry Vinaigrette salad dressing as a sweet, refreshing dip!)
(see all the different sizes!? mmmm!)
(We mostly use Raspberry Vinaigrette salad dressing as a sweet, refreshing dip!)
(see all the different sizes!? mmmm!)
I used to judge… and get bullied.
I remember making jokes about people. People my age at the time and adults (…mostly. Unless, there was something really funny or awkward about some child or baby.)
For the most part, I was making “jokes”, not meant to insult or hurt.
Though there were times where my egoic inner scowl cut a little deeper than a joke, I’m sure. And at times, the “jokes” may have sounded much worse than I intended them to be, but really, could any one tell the difference? Could I?
I got picked on and bullied by many people. Starting when I was really young, by teasing cousins and joke-making relatives; and then it expanded into kids from school. When THEY started “making jokes” about me was when I began to feel the most self-loathing. (I got so paranoid for a while, that any comment or noise in the classroom felt directed at me, that somehow everyone was constantly talking crap about me. I felt I was the punchline of every joke.)
And who knows, maybe they were only "joking", not meaning to traumatize me. I’m sure my own collection of traumatizing experiences made every new comment feel even more painful for me. For some reason, the words would stick to me as if they were the sharp, scratchy side of the Velcro and I was the fuzzy, mess they clung to.
After while, in grade 8, I started to notice how certain kids, who I’ll label “the bullies” (ok, back then it was “the idiots”, but I don’t want to be as harsh now!) were picking on other people too, it wasn’t just ME they were picking on!
I was torn.
On the one hand: I was relived that other people were hated just as much as I was! That I wasn’t the most un-liked person in the world! That felt good—for thirty seconds…
Because, on the other hand (after I was done feeling happy about other peoples misery), I felt such a huge amount of sadness for those people. I felt so much love and empathy towards them- I knew exactly how gut-wrenchingly awful they felt because of those other kids. It was probably the first moment I fully felt empathy to its highest degree. And it was then I decided to become an unofficial, self-titled bully-killer and spoke up most times I saw people picking on people (I was told I even punched a guy in the face repeatedly that year, I dont recall it, though---apparently, being a bully-killer involved some black-out moments.)
Though, don't think I was completely enlightened, I hated those bullies! I would judge them about anything I could find about them… but that didn’t last either, I saw how hurtful I was thinking, and how sometimes they felt hurt and got picked on (mostly by each other!)… I tried to let the hate go… I didn’t always succeed.
And there were times when I was completely wrong about a person who i thought was being a bully. Meaning, a friend would tell me: so-and-so said this about me.. where, in turn, I would get enraged (see? not enlightened!) and go "talk" (or yell?) at the person in my friends defence. Which resulted in my losing more people as friends. Not good.
I remember I started to look at the other kids who were getting picked on, and wondered: why do we get picked on?
I made a list of things that might have been the cause (which, for a long time, added to my paranoia and a caused major decrease of self esteem):
1. Do those people look different? (Wait. How do I look? (From then out: obsessed with mirrors and searching for my ugly- and back then, always finding it!) (HAPPY NOTE: everyone looks different! and it's OK!)
2. Those people don’t really talk a lot. (Neither do I, why don’t I!?!? What’s wrong with me? Am I stupid? Why don’t I have anything to say? In ways, this lead me to saying anything that popped into my head and especially saying some things other people wouldn’t say (which made people laugh, and I liked that). However, in other ways, it caused me to vow to never speak again- times when I really sould’ve used my voice, I didn’t.) (HAPPY NOTE: I found my voice and i hope the other people did too!)
3. Do those people dress different? (what’s wrong with how I dress? *looks down*
Then, I spent the next 4 years going in godawful fashion directions, on-a-budget (I didn’t have a lot of money back then to spend on clothes), desperately searching for the style that wouldn’t get me picked on. And LORD there were some awful disasters that warranted getting picked on! (HAPPY NOTE: it shouldnt matter to anyone what anyone else wears. What's the big friggin deal!?)
4. Maybe they don’t have money, like I don’t? (To me, it seemed the people who didn’t get picked on: were rich.) (HAPPY NOTE: can't think of anything, but be happy anyhow!)
5. Those people must be awful human beings like I am, they aren’t as good as the other kids who have fun and happy moments with each other in class. (yes, seeing my bullies act all sweet and funny with the other girls in class, obviously, made me compare myself to them. What’s so great about them? What’s so awful about me? (Being left to do all this ‘sorting out’ on my own, brought me to some sad, pathetic thought patterns about myself and the world around me- I could’ve been guided, shown how to see things more helpful to me… but I wasn’t.) (HAPPY NOTE: I wasn't awful and neither were any of the other kids who got picked on. The bullies weren't even awful, they were just off track.)
(but. maybe. we all just had shit going on at home that caused us to be insecure and lack confidence, and bullies thrive on people like that!)
Having support at that age, someone to talk to me about all of this stuff, may have helped me think more positively about my self, and my life, and could’ve helped me avoid a lot of pain, sadness and tragic rebelling.
Instead, I had movies and t.v shows to “gimme some truth” (-john lennon), and, where I came from, we didn’t get “Truth Tv” or rent “truth” movies.
Most of what I saw in movies and on TV only strengthened the limited beliefs I already had (in fact, I’m pretty sure, movies and TV mixed with my limited guidance in real life, was largely the cause of my limited beliefs and tragic rebellion.)
As much as I was empathic towards people who got picked on, there were times where my mind would judge the crap out of people just because it was the pathetic egoic thing to do, a survival mechanism created for the mind to not fall collapse under the pressure of feeling useless. Making me think that other people were ‘worse than me’, was probably the mind saving itself from me killing myself.
Sadly some victims of bullying are pushed past that limit.
It’s a clever trick of the ego. It is beneficial in some ways… but if we don’t get control over it at some point in life, it can keep us hidden in a dark, unhappy, judgmental place, or lead us to full-on self destruction.
I titled this, “I used to judge”, but don’t let that fool you into thinking that I am completely without judgment now- because I’m not! There are still moments that someone will walk by or say something and my mind goes: WHOA that’s weird in some way!
However, I have learned how to spot my judgmental moments more. Therefore, as much as I have judgmental thoughts, I don’t judge people in light of them (for longer than 10 seconds at least).
When I see a judgment flash in my mind, I question it: why did I think that? And then I make myself look at the person with love. Look at the amazing things about them.
May sound cheeky, but it is truly more beautiful than leaving it at the judgment.
Do you recognize when you are judging?
"We choose our destiny in the way we treat others." -Wit
For the most part, I was making “jokes”, not meant to insult or hurt.
Though there were times where my egoic inner scowl cut a little deeper than a joke, I’m sure. And at times, the “jokes” may have sounded much worse than I intended them to be, but really, could any one tell the difference? Could I?
I got picked on and bullied by many people. Starting when I was really young, by teasing cousins and joke-making relatives; and then it expanded into kids from school. When THEY started “making jokes” about me was when I began to feel the most self-loathing. (I got so paranoid for a while, that any comment or noise in the classroom felt directed at me, that somehow everyone was constantly talking crap about me. I felt I was the punchline of every joke.)
And who knows, maybe they were only "joking", not meaning to traumatize me. I’m sure my own collection of traumatizing experiences made every new comment feel even more painful for me. For some reason, the words would stick to me as if they were the sharp, scratchy side of the Velcro and I was the fuzzy, mess they clung to.
After while, in grade 8, I started to notice how certain kids, who I’ll label “the bullies” (ok, back then it was “the idiots”, but I don’t want to be as harsh now!) were picking on other people too, it wasn’t just ME they were picking on!
I was torn.
On the one hand: I was relived that other people were hated just as much as I was! That I wasn’t the most un-liked person in the world! That felt good—for thirty seconds…
Because, on the other hand (after I was done feeling happy about other peoples misery), I felt such a huge amount of sadness for those people. I felt so much love and empathy towards them- I knew exactly how gut-wrenchingly awful they felt because of those other kids. It was probably the first moment I fully felt empathy to its highest degree. And it was then I decided to become an unofficial, self-titled bully-killer and spoke up most times I saw people picking on people (I was told I even punched a guy in the face repeatedly that year, I dont recall it, though---apparently, being a bully-killer involved some black-out moments.)
Though, don't think I was completely enlightened, I hated those bullies! I would judge them about anything I could find about them… but that didn’t last either, I saw how hurtful I was thinking, and how sometimes they felt hurt and got picked on (mostly by each other!)… I tried to let the hate go… I didn’t always succeed.
And there were times when I was completely wrong about a person who i thought was being a bully. Meaning, a friend would tell me: so-and-so said this about me.. where, in turn, I would get enraged (see? not enlightened!) and go "talk" (or yell?) at the person in my friends defence. Which resulted in my losing more people as friends. Not good.
I remember I started to look at the other kids who were getting picked on, and wondered: why do we get picked on?
I made a list of things that might have been the cause (which, for a long time, added to my paranoia and a caused major decrease of self esteem):
1. Do those people look different? (Wait. How do I look? (From then out: obsessed with mirrors and searching for my ugly- and back then, always finding it!) (HAPPY NOTE: everyone looks different! and it's OK!)
2. Those people don’t really talk a lot. (Neither do I, why don’t I!?!? What’s wrong with me? Am I stupid? Why don’t I have anything to say? In ways, this lead me to saying anything that popped into my head and especially saying some things other people wouldn’t say (which made people laugh, and I liked that). However, in other ways, it caused me to vow to never speak again- times when I really sould’ve used my voice, I didn’t.) (HAPPY NOTE: I found my voice and i hope the other people did too!)
3. Do those people dress different? (what’s wrong with how I dress? *looks down*
4. Maybe they don’t have money, like I don’t? (To me, it seemed the people who didn’t get picked on: were rich.) (HAPPY NOTE: can't think of anything, but be happy anyhow!)
5. Those people must be awful human beings like I am, they aren’t as good as the other kids who have fun and happy moments with each other in class. (yes, seeing my bullies act all sweet and funny with the other girls in class, obviously, made me compare myself to them. What’s so great about them? What’s so awful about me? (Being left to do all this ‘sorting out’ on my own, brought me to some sad, pathetic thought patterns about myself and the world around me- I could’ve been guided, shown how to see things more helpful to me… but I wasn’t.) (HAPPY NOTE: I wasn't awful and neither were any of the other kids who got picked on. The bullies weren't even awful, they were just off track.)
(but. maybe. we all just had shit going on at home that caused us to be insecure and lack confidence, and bullies thrive on people like that!)
Having support at that age, someone to talk to me about all of this stuff, may have helped me think more positively about my self, and my life, and could’ve helped me avoid a lot of pain, sadness and tragic rebelling.
Instead, I had movies and t.v shows to “gimme some truth” (-john lennon), and, where I came from, we didn’t get “Truth Tv” or rent “truth” movies.
Most of what I saw in movies and on TV only strengthened the limited beliefs I already had (in fact, I’m pretty sure, movies and TV mixed with my limited guidance in real life, was largely the cause of my limited beliefs and tragic rebellion.)
As much as I was empathic towards people who got picked on, there were times where my mind would judge the crap out of people just because it was the pathetic egoic thing to do, a survival mechanism created for the mind to not fall collapse under the pressure of feeling useless. Making me think that other people were ‘worse than me’, was probably the mind saving itself from me killing myself.
Sadly some victims of bullying are pushed past that limit.
It’s a clever trick of the ego. It is beneficial in some ways… but if we don’t get control over it at some point in life, it can keep us hidden in a dark, unhappy, judgmental place, or lead us to full-on self destruction.
I titled this, “I used to judge”, but don’t let that fool you into thinking that I am completely without judgment now- because I’m not! There are still moments that someone will walk by or say something and my mind goes: WHOA that’s weird in some way!
However, I have learned how to spot my judgmental moments more. Therefore, as much as I have judgmental thoughts, I don’t judge people in light of them (for longer than 10 seconds at least).
When I see a judgment flash in my mind, I question it: why did I think that? And then I make myself look at the person with love. Look at the amazing things about them.
May sound cheeky, but it is truly more beautiful than leaving it at the judgment.
Do you recognize when you are judging?
"We choose our destiny in the way we treat others." -Wit
Life of a self analyzer…
"Think, think, think" Winnie the Pooh. 
Pooh seems to only "think" when he needs to figure out something: how to find more honey! Thinking is a problem-solving tool. Used to figure out where and how to get honey. Thinking is our way of planning. It is our way of developing actions steps, to figure things out, and more deeply, to fulfill our lifes purpose.
This leads me to the question: what is he doing when he isn’t thinking? How does Pooh spend his days in between his search and plan for honey? Well, he just IS. He is living fully present, in all his Pooh-ness, each and every moment. Just being a friend, loving, laughing, and lazily offering his gift of wisdom, complex in nature, yet simple to the ears.
Some people say: you think too much! You can’t live and be happy if you're thinking all the time! Thinking too much is bad for you!
So I say: but then, wouldn’t ‘thinking just enough’, be good for me? And how are you to know what is “too much” or “too little” for someone else?
So far, my purpose has always been figuring things out; my self and my relation to the people around me (not so much them, but who I am in relation of what I see of them. I believe, we can’t ever fully “figure out” another person, but we can have glimpses and ideas of who they are by what the reveal to us, and what that reflects of us personally).
I have always felt that I am meant to “figure out” the workings of my life. Searching for the higher purpose. My metaphorical “honey” is my mind right now; how it works, what it’s been through and where I can take it and how I can (re)shape it. (I also 'think' we have multiple purposes throughout life- as our realities shift as we grow, so too, does our individual purposes, therefore our incentives, pots of honey, all seemingly change throughout our lifetimes. But our “honey” as a whole, our ‘greater honey’, is our search for the truth, the higher purpose of life. To be of service for the evolution of that- whatever that may mean to each of us individually, matters none.)
To contradict myself a little, there may be some truth to 'thinking too much". That if one thinks too much about every single thing, or about certain distractions that life offers, it could lead to a life of thinking, not living, therefore: not being of service to the higher purpose. I will have to admit that I've had moments in my life where "thinking" was my living... I didn't DO much else. It was all really an unconscious mess! (and, well, for the purpose of truth: I still have moments where I am lost like that, though not near as plentiful as some years ago!)
But I feel it was prep work for the work I am 'thinking' now.
Since joining the Yoga Enlightenment Studies program I have begun to loosen the grip of some of the fears I have had about my 'thinking' and my sense of a higher purpose. I have been able to let go of a lot of unnecessary things, like for example: the worry of people thinking I'm nuts for this “higher purpose” stuff (worrying constantly what people are thinking about me has been a flaw in my thinking for years! I've had stages of 'thinking' that reach beyond that of "paranoia"! Flat out insanity! The teen years were TOUGH!) There were nights I would lay and think,think,think in fear,fear,fear, about all possible sides to a million different things! I’m not sure any if that really served me… or if it was beneficial on some level, but it was my constant reality when I was young.
Since learning more about the mind and all its different functions and levels, through psychology classes and now from a yogic enlightenment perspective, I have been able to study my own mind more in depth and see it for what it has been over the years, I have been watching myself wake up. Other people also show me their minds, I’ve seen stuck areas and leaps in their evolution, it’s amazing to witness!
The journey of my enlightenment studies has been truly remarkable. Submerging myself into a group of fellow yogis, who are each on their own separate paths, yet we are tapping into the higher path of one. It is an amazing process.
I believe “the higher path of one” is Us finding our way home, and we do that most successfully by working diligently to improve the human conscience we chose to reside in while here on this earth.
It is up to us to take on that mission.
A quote that was born from my human mind: We are tools used by active evolution. We are. We are tools, each having their own purpose and function, which uniquely and collectively, aid in the evolution of this existence.
If everyone started opening his or her eyes to his or her own true purpose and ability, and diligently worked to overcome and release the mind that was developed in childhood, the power of life and love would finally be released and the vibrational energy would shift from the dysfunctional level to a fully functional level. We would see results in all areas to life, from our own minds to huge eco systems- everything would improve. The human mind was made in liking to the creator, meaning: we have the power to create.
Each of us came into the world with clear minds, raw potential, ready to be loaded up with information from the people and experiences that surround us as children and young people. Everything we experience, we learn from. We either learn directly from it, or we must learn to release information that doesn’t serve us.
Some people have life situations that never lead them astray of their higher purpose, their true gifts were always able to shine, their full potential seemingly laid out in front of them.
However, for others, they get muddied along the way. Things (and people!) happen that throw them off course, blind them to their truths.
It then results in those people having to drudge along for a few years. But there will always be hints and signs of their truth, waiting for them to notice, to reconnect. When they begin to notice, it is immediately up to them to collect those truths one by one, until the flood gates open and truth starts to pour out. The flood gates will open all at once for the first few times, but the mind will start filling in the flow with old patterns and beliefs, until the flow of truth is yet again slowed. Which is precisely where the search for "honey" comes in; one must then work on removing the barricades that the mind has put back over the truth. That's where the true work begins. Inside. The thinking begins: how do I find my honey- err- my truth? "Think, think, think."
And then “do”.
(For YES program information visit: http://www.thelotuscentre.ca/index.html )
(photo of human heart/mind was found at: www.fengshe.org/collaborators/Connell_Andrea/_Articles/Radiant_Mind.html )
Pooh seems to only "think" when he needs to figure out something: how to find more honey! Thinking is a problem-solving tool. Used to figure out where and how to get honey. Thinking is our way of planning. It is our way of developing actions steps, to figure things out, and more deeply, to fulfill our lifes purpose.
This leads me to the question: what is he doing when he isn’t thinking? How does Pooh spend his days in between his search and plan for honey? Well, he just IS. He is living fully present, in all his Pooh-ness, each and every moment. Just being a friend, loving, laughing, and lazily offering his gift of wisdom, complex in nature, yet simple to the ears.
Some people say: you think too much! You can’t live and be happy if you're thinking all the time! Thinking too much is bad for you!
So I say: but then, wouldn’t ‘thinking just enough’, be good for me? And how are you to know what is “too much” or “too little” for someone else?
So far, my purpose has always been figuring things out; my self and my relation to the people around me (not so much them, but who I am in relation of what I see of them. I believe, we can’t ever fully “figure out” another person, but we can have glimpses and ideas of who they are by what the reveal to us, and what that reflects of us personally).
I have always felt that I am meant to “figure out” the workings of my life. Searching for the higher purpose. My metaphorical “honey” is my mind right now; how it works, what it’s been through and where I can take it and how I can (re)shape it. (I also 'think' we have multiple purposes throughout life- as our realities shift as we grow, so too, does our individual purposes, therefore our incentives, pots of honey, all seemingly change throughout our lifetimes. But our “honey” as a whole, our ‘greater honey’, is our search for the truth, the higher purpose of life. To be of service for the evolution of that- whatever that may mean to each of us individually, matters none.)
To contradict myself a little, there may be some truth to 'thinking too much". That if one thinks too much about every single thing, or about certain distractions that life offers, it could lead to a life of thinking, not living, therefore: not being of service to the higher purpose. I will have to admit that I've had moments in my life where "thinking" was my living... I didn't DO much else. It was all really an unconscious mess! (and, well, for the purpose of truth: I still have moments where I am lost like that, though not near as plentiful as some years ago!)
But I feel it was prep work for the work I am 'thinking' now.
Since joining the Yoga Enlightenment Studies program I have begun to loosen the grip of some of the fears I have had about my 'thinking' and my sense of a higher purpose. I have been able to let go of a lot of unnecessary things, like for example: the worry of people thinking I'm nuts for this “higher purpose” stuff (worrying constantly what people are thinking about me has been a flaw in my thinking for years! I've had stages of 'thinking' that reach beyond that of "paranoia"! Flat out insanity! The teen years were TOUGH!) There were nights I would lay and think,think,think in fear,fear,fear, about all possible sides to a million different things! I’m not sure any if that really served me… or if it was beneficial on some level, but it was my constant reality when I was young.
Since learning more about the mind and all its different functions and levels, through psychology classes and now from a yogic enlightenment perspective, I have been able to study my own mind more in depth and see it for what it has been over the years, I have been watching myself wake up. Other people also show me their minds, I’ve seen stuck areas and leaps in their evolution, it’s amazing to witness!
The journey of my enlightenment studies has been truly remarkable. Submerging myself into a group of fellow yogis, who are each on their own separate paths, yet we are tapping into the higher path of one. It is an amazing process.
I believe “the higher path of one” is Us finding our way home, and we do that most successfully by working diligently to improve the human conscience we chose to reside in while here on this earth.
It is up to us to take on that mission.
A quote that was born from my human mind: We are tools used by active evolution. We are. We are tools, each having their own purpose and function, which uniquely and collectively, aid in the evolution of this existence.
If everyone started opening his or her eyes to his or her own true purpose and ability, and diligently worked to overcome and release the mind that was developed in childhood, the power of life and love would finally be released and the vibrational energy would shift from the dysfunctional level to a fully functional level. We would see results in all areas to life, from our own minds to huge eco systems- everything would improve. The human mind was made in liking to the creator, meaning: we have the power to create.
Each of us came into the world with clear minds, raw potential, ready to be loaded up with information from the people and experiences that surround us as children and young people. Everything we experience, we learn from. We either learn directly from it, or we must learn to release information that doesn’t serve us.
Some people have life situations that never lead them astray of their higher purpose, their true gifts were always able to shine, their full potential seemingly laid out in front of them.
However, for others, they get muddied along the way. Things (and people!) happen that throw them off course, blind them to their truths.
It then results in those people having to drudge along for a few years. But there will always be hints and signs of their truth, waiting for them to notice, to reconnect. When they begin to notice, it is immediately up to them to collect those truths one by one, until the flood gates open and truth starts to pour out. The flood gates will open all at once for the first few times, but the mind will start filling in the flow with old patterns and beliefs, until the flow of truth is yet again slowed. Which is precisely where the search for "honey" comes in; one must then work on removing the barricades that the mind has put back over the truth. That's where the true work begins. Inside. The thinking begins: how do I find my honey- err- my truth? "Think, think, think."
And then “do”.
(For YES program information visit: http://www.thelotuscentre.ca/index.html )
(photo of human heart/mind was found at: www.fengshe.org/collaborators/Connell_Andrea/_Articles/Radiant_Mind.html )
What do YOU do about the moments that hit you so hard in the chest you think you will explode?
I’m working to figure out how to deal with those moments, how to build up my strength to be able to take more on, more of my own and more of other peoples.
I have moments when I read, hear, feel, do something that is full of pain and anguish. I wonder where it all comes from, the pain in life, and if there’s anything I can do.
There are times when empathy towards humanity, and life itself, swells so grand in my heart it feels as though it could burst all over the world (and I secretly I hope if it does, that teeny particles of love and magic would be spread around and somehow transform the pain and fear and damage, like some magical scene from a Disney film.)
Some people suggest simply enjoying, loving and expressing gratitude towards every thing that’s great in my life. Focus on my family and only the things surrounding me. I do see how positive and powerful that really is, and how it really couldn’t hurt and that it will uplift the vibrational energy of the planet, and I do hope most people live that way; but, for me… it doesn’t feel like enough. I’ve been trying that, to live that way. It just feels that I am sitting there, fingers crossed, hoping other people will figure it all out, and save us from ourselves. It isn’t involved enough for me. I want to do more. I want to connect more. I want to give back more.
Since I was a small child, I have always somehow felt as though “duty” was “calling me”. That there is something more for me to do, that I truly can help people, ease people’s pain. I think all the pain and anguish I felt as a child and teenager bestowed me with a threshold for empathy beyond that of most. But for years now, I have followed these feelings up with a question: how?
How do I help people? How do I ease other people’s pain, in the midst of my own?
How can I, if I don’t have a clear image of what that duty is, know exactly what to do. I do know I have accepted the challenge, in an act of surrender. I have dedicated myself to improving, trying to evolve for one and all. It’s not always a clear-cut image, but the power of dedication will slowly reveal it all. I have to trust more. I have to open more. I have to strengthen more. I have to study more. I have to connect more.
I have to also go easy on myself. I can’t help others if I stress over my moments of weakness. I must forgive myself more. I must dedicate myself. I must figure out more ways to do that.
I’m finding, in the early stage of this process, it can be very difficult to remain open, to remain fully trusting, to really grasp the idea of surrender and mix it with dedication. I’m still having moments of sheer human weakness, moments of scrambled confusion, blind acts of hypocrisy, complete break downs of fear.
I still get tangled up in thoughts. Wondering if I am where I should be. Wondering if I’m off or on track, wondering how many “tracks” there might even be.
I get annoying, egoic worries like: am I doing enough? Is there something more I should be doing? How come I don’t seem to doing enough? Do I love enough? Why don’t I feel like I’m loving enough? Are there things I should change? How do I change things? Are there people I should see right now? Are there people I can help? How come I want to help more, but I can’t seem to figure out how to? And, one of the biggest, most repeated questions: am I losing my mind? and wouldn’t that be a good thing? (The mind is usually so much of the problem when it comes to pain and anguish.)
I am seeking ways to empower and enlighten myself in order to offer that to others.
I need to build my strength and knowledge base. Be taught in order to teach.
It is proving to be a difficult, worthwhile endeavor.
One step at a time, will surely lead me down the path.
(photo: this is a mini Buddha, a gift from a very thoughtful friend.)
if you dont know, go ask a polar bear.
Recently, I was standing with two friends who were talking to a person whom I didn’t know. They were all slightly overweight (one more “slightly” than the others). They began talking about their intense desire to loose weight. “Oh I want it gone!” “I want to be able to feel comfortable this summer!” “I know we can do it!” (They were excited, and I was excited for them!)
Then one of them asked the other two: “So, have you heard of any new diets lately? One that would WORK, I mean?” and she rolled her eyes and laughed.
Here’s where I (a small, and in shape person) just HAD to poke my head in (because, well, I have some strong feelings towards the whole “diet” trend. First of all: eating is a diet, every time you eat anything, you are dieting. There’s no NEW diet, it’s just changing the way you eat. And some diets are ridiculous! And some are very unhealthy! And all diet needs exercise to accompany it, to maintain a healthy body size!) So, I, hesitantly, piped up and said: Well it’s all in what you eat and how much you exercise. You don’t need a "new diet" to eat healthy and be active, (no, i wasn't saying anything about how i feel about diets here, I choose my battles!) and eating a lot of nuts is very important, too! *insert supportive smile here*.
They all immediately gave each other “the look”, rolled their eyes, and laughed and scoffed things like: “Oh yeah, because I’m sure YOU have an idea of what loosing weight is all about” and “Why would we take weight loss advice from someone your size!” (They really were amusing themselves at my expense.)
And I mean, of course, if you wanted to know more about being a penguin, it would make more sense to ask the polar bears that see them, rather than the penguins themselves, hey?
It really annoyed me. I even had mean thoughts like: oh well, don’t listen to me, all in shape and healthy, keep being chubby there chubs. (but I forgave myself immediately, then wished them well and sent them love, as I re-turned away from the group.)
Personally, if someone who looked like something I wanted to be, offered me advice, I'd listen, pay attention, rather than scoff at the fact they aren't where I am right now. Like if i wanted advice about becoming rich, I'm not going to talk the other poor folk who want to be rich, and ask them if they've heard of the next "get rich quick" scheme. Nope. I'm going to trust the words of the people who are rich now! Same goes for weight issues. Small people are, more than likely, doing something different than bigger people. I think we can all learn a lot from each other, if we take out any unfavorable emotion and resentments.
I dont want to end on the word "resentments", it's too negative, so I'm going to end on something happier, like, "rainbows".
Then one of them asked the other two: “So, have you heard of any new diets lately? One that would WORK, I mean?” and she rolled her eyes and laughed.
Here’s where I (a small, and in shape person) just HAD to poke my head in (because, well, I have some strong feelings towards the whole “diet” trend. First of all: eating is a diet, every time you eat anything, you are dieting. There’s no NEW diet, it’s just changing the way you eat. And some diets are ridiculous! And some are very unhealthy! And all diet needs exercise to accompany it, to maintain a healthy body size!) So, I, hesitantly, piped up and said: Well it’s all in what you eat and how much you exercise. You don’t need a "new diet" to eat healthy and be active, (no, i wasn't saying anything about how i feel about diets here, I choose my battles!) and eating a lot of nuts is very important, too! *insert supportive smile here*.
They all immediately gave each other “the look”, rolled their eyes, and laughed and scoffed things like: “Oh yeah, because I’m sure YOU have an idea of what loosing weight is all about” and “Why would we take weight loss advice from someone your size!” (They really were amusing themselves at my expense.)
And I mean, of course, if you wanted to know more about being a penguin, it would make more sense to ask the polar bears that see them, rather than the penguins themselves, hey?
It really annoyed me. I even had mean thoughts like: oh well, don’t listen to me, all in shape and healthy, keep being chubby there chubs. (but I forgave myself immediately, then wished them well and sent them love, as I re-turned away from the group.)
Personally, if someone who looked like something I wanted to be, offered me advice, I'd listen, pay attention, rather than scoff at the fact they aren't where I am right now. Like if i wanted advice about becoming rich, I'm not going to talk the other poor folk who want to be rich, and ask them if they've heard of the next "get rich quick" scheme. Nope. I'm going to trust the words of the people who are rich now! Same goes for weight issues. Small people are, more than likely, doing something different than bigger people. I think we can all learn a lot from each other, if we take out any unfavorable emotion and resentments.
I dont want to end on the word "resentments", it's too negative, so I'm going to end on something happier, like, "rainbows".
One of those nights… when the super ego comes out to play…
So many things happen in the run of a day, in the run of an evening…
So many thoughts rush on by. We either attach or not attach.
Someone threw a snowball at my windshield as I was driving 50 down a dark road at 10pm on a Friday night. I didn’t even flinch, didn’t get a scare, didn’t react with a jump of frady-cat, like I might’ve before, years ago… (Though, even sometimes now, if someone, in my own house, quietly turned a corner and faced me, I’d prolly jump and scream a little bit-- but I blame the conditioning of movies for that… I've seen that scene in movies a LOT! So I expect it to be a clown with a knife, I’m like: “AH!! Oh.. it’s only you… DEEP-BREATH OUT“( “You” being my partner, who I know is the only one home with me, but for some reason, if we cross paths unexpectedly, I tend to scream out an ear deafening yelp as if he is holding a machete, aiming for my throat, (but then I'll giggle and see that he is the one who now looks scared.)
But anyhow..
The snowball thing…
It showed me how awake to the moment I can be... it’s something I have been learning, been working on… the ability to quickly asses a situation at hand, and react accordingly, more rationally. This practice has helped me feel more awake in my life than I have in years (if I ever have!)
I try hard to not attach to events when they arise, just let them run their course… I asses a moment, let it fly on by, move on to enjoy the next one…
It seems as though there are times when I'm so awake and consciously alert, that I cant even be scared of a snowball whacking off my window on a dark rainy drive!
I can be so in-tune with being in the moment, that as soon as the snowball hit the window, and I processed it, that moment to jump in fright was gone, the snowball was gone… I tuned into what happened so fast that I didn’t have time to be frightened, it kind of looked like this:
Me driving along, wide awake, in a consciously self-absorbed state of self analysis and awareness of the moment, turn to check the time on my phone- *!!!WHACK!!!!* *BLANK STARE*“that was a snowball” “on the window” “its not broken” “no big deal” *HERES WHERE MY BODY SLIGHTlY SITS MORE UP-RIGHT*, (a subtle physical reaction which would normally accompany a huge jump, rush of scared feelings, sweat and a rapid heartbeat and maybe some angry words about the SOB who threw the snowball* “whoa that was crazy” “I wasn’t scared at all” “hey that person should not have done that” MEEP-MEEP-MEEP! “hey, why did I meep the horn?” … “that person probably thinks I was meeping out of anger, giving that person a false sense of control, DAMNIT! Why did I meep the horn! I wasn’t angry, I was just sayingL HAY!” “oh well, I meeped the horn, that persons reaction is that persons reaction, im done reacting about it, let. It go…” (yes, I really do think like this.)
LONG SILENT PAUSE (that being about 7 seconds) “Hey. That was kinda cool. How I didn’t jump and get scared.”Though, maybe that means I was lost in thought?” “That it’s not that I'm “so awake”, it’s that im THAT unconscious!” “That, omg, I cant even react to a snowball hitting the window!” “OMG what is wrong with me!?!?”
*PAUSE* “oh, hey! I'm doing that thing again, that super ego crap! Guh!”
Then I continued my drive home.. (taking into account, everything I just wrote up there, ran through my mind in under 26 seconds).
FYI: it took me longer to write this post than it did for that entire situation to unfold!
So many thoughts rush on by. We either attach or not attach.
Someone threw a snowball at my windshield as I was driving 50 down a dark road at 10pm on a Friday night. I didn’t even flinch, didn’t get a scare, didn’t react with a jump of frady-cat, like I might’ve before, years ago… (Though, even sometimes now, if someone, in my own house, quietly turned a corner and faced me, I’d prolly jump and scream a little bit-- but I blame the conditioning of movies for that… I've seen that scene in movies a LOT! So I expect it to be a clown with a knife, I’m like: “AH!! Oh.. it’s only you… DEEP-BREATH OUT“( “You” being my partner, who I know is the only one home with me, but for some reason, if we cross paths unexpectedly, I tend to scream out an ear deafening yelp as if he is holding a machete, aiming for my throat, (but then I'll giggle and see that he is the one who now looks scared.)
But anyhow..
The snowball thing…
It showed me how awake to the moment I can be... it’s something I have been learning, been working on… the ability to quickly asses a situation at hand, and react accordingly, more rationally. This practice has helped me feel more awake in my life than I have in years (if I ever have!)
I try hard to not attach to events when they arise, just let them run their course… I asses a moment, let it fly on by, move on to enjoy the next one…
It seems as though there are times when I'm so awake and consciously alert, that I cant even be scared of a snowball whacking off my window on a dark rainy drive!
Me driving along, wide awake, in a consciously self-absorbed state of self analysis and awareness of the moment, turn to check the time on my phone- *!!!WHACK!!!!* *BLANK STARE*“that was a snowball” “on the window” “its not broken” “no big deal” *HERES WHERE MY BODY SLIGHTlY SITS MORE UP-RIGHT*, (a subtle physical reaction which would normally accompany a huge jump, rush of scared feelings, sweat and a rapid heartbeat and maybe some angry words about the SOB who threw the snowball* “whoa that was crazy” “I wasn’t scared at all” “hey that person should not have done that” MEEP-MEEP-MEEP! “hey, why did I meep the horn?” … “that person probably thinks I was meeping out of anger, giving that person a false sense of control, DAMNIT! Why did I meep the horn! I wasn’t angry, I was just sayingL HAY!” “oh well, I meeped the horn, that persons reaction is that persons reaction, im done reacting about it, let. It go…” (yes, I really do think like this.)
LONG SILENT PAUSE (that being about 7 seconds) “Hey. That was kinda cool. How I didn’t jump and get scared.”Though, maybe that means I was lost in thought?” “That it’s not that I'm “so awake”, it’s that im THAT unconscious!” “That, omg, I cant even react to a snowball hitting the window!” “OMG what is wrong with me!?!?”
*PAUSE* “oh, hey! I'm doing that thing again, that super ego crap! Guh!”
Then I continued my drive home.. (taking into account, everything I just wrote up there, ran through my mind in under 26 seconds).
FYI: it took me longer to write this post than it did for that entire situation to unfold!
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