My love of life began early. I loved the individuality of snowflakes and the inspecting the veins of the sugar maple leaf in autumn. I loved the sound of crickets and the whirring of the fan in summer. I loved dancing in the kitchen and Ghost in the Graveyard with friends. I loved when dad played me songs on the guitar. I loved caring for my friends and family. I loved swimming underwater, seeing how long I could hold my breath. I haven't changed. I still possess a lovely love of life.
I followed a nice car this morning on my drive to work. It was a convertible Lexus C-something-or-other. I was looking at it and admiring. I thought "would I buy that car if I could?" and I immediately answered "no". But I would let my husband buy it if he really really wanted it, and I would take it for a spin now and then. And then I got analyzing my answer and why I would be seen in it - but not everyday. I guess, it's because I am comfortable with luxury but not desperate for it. I was raised partially in the lap of it. It was never directly ours and my parents argued about money so much I thought we had none. Someone else had plenty, though. Someone I really really loved and admired. I knew he was loving and kind and would give the shirt off his back to anyone who needed it. He was the son of Norwegian immigrants who had very little. He set an intention to own his own business and he eventually made plenty of money. He handled money well. He gave it away, he helped others with it, he spent it on his wife & family. He made good things happen with it. He died poor. He had spent it all living luxuriously, having what he wanted and giving whenever he could.
The point? I am comfortable with money, luxury and success because it was good to me. But, it was never mine. So, I don't see it as something that I need to be happy. Truly. For me, this translates to not sticking to anything. If I don't need money for happiness, I can just do what I want to do and that can change every couple of years - a mental life of a beatnik, or a hippie, or gypsy. It's all good, man.
Then I realized. I want to be what I am meant to be - the fullest potential I can muster in this lifetime. It means taking a risk and to take this risk I know I need to make a living doing it. I have never had a clear vision for my career. And that has worked fine for me, until now.
Tonight, I walked in the woods. I was silent. I let ideas come find me. It doesn't take them long. The mind heard "be a person with a passion to do a certain job". And I pictured it. I thought of me as a person with a career intention. Not floundering, not changing my mind, and not stopping. I realized that this was a "me" that I had neglected. I neglected my career in building my dream life. In neglecting my career, I have not walked a straight path to my dream. I decided it's time to find the path and walk it. While I know money is not what I need to be happy, it is what come from doing what I love and creating the life I want.
I can't believe I am back to this blog. I originally birthed it as Scandalicious Suburbia. I got a kick out of being an unexpected goof ball. Maybe I come across as composed and with my shit together. I am not. Sometimes I am. Not really though. I don't know everything. I don't have it figured out. I do know life has a way of teaching me that you can never know what is next.
I don't like to tell my story because I know that it is just that - a story. It's my "this is why you should listen to me" plea. This is why I matter. Honestly, we all matter. You matter. Let's tell each other stories.
When we believe that we are unique and super-special, it's like we mentally hop a luxury yacht to the Island of No One Understands Me. Island life is unsettling - most everyone else is on the island of misfits or on their own private island of specialness. When we are over concerned with our own uniqueness, we send the message that any understanding, compassion, and love directed at us is misguided. If they haven't lived to tell the story you have lived to tell, how can they possibly understand? If we don't want to be alone, a victim of our story, we have to row-row-row ourselves to the island of misfits. It is there that we will find community among kindred souls.
How do we get to a place, as individuals, where we can both deal with our individualistic minds and expand our consciousness to include our desire for community and love? How do we rectify the two? Our egos want to us to believe we are Jesus reincarnate, but our souls know that we are all Jesus reincarnate. My story is your story. My antagonist is real to me, yet still an antagonist - a crucial character to every good story. My story has been told before and will be told again. My story, though the events are seemingly rare, mirrors at least one other story that I am aware of in my small city. How can I be so selfish as to worry about the stuff I go through when I know that people go through worse? Yet, how can I not worry about me when I have to help me survive? It's a conundrum that requires at least a year's worth of tissues, bad movies and sugar-laden treats to get through.
I was never one to lament. I am not a fan of it.I am a lover of life - as it is. And yet, I am sad to report I have spent the last year lamenting. I have grieved my choice to love and be open with people, I have said a big F-you to living in the moment (because it's really hard when the moment is shit covered in vomit), and I have just been a place where authenticity (caution: buzz word) seemed inconsequential and "playing it safe" seemed, well, safe.
But you know... if I really believed that I wouldn't be writing this. Playing it safe is not my cup of tea. If I live once (or live again with no memory of this), why do I care about being careful? I don't have a death wish. I have a life wish. I wish to live fully, in every moment. I wish to love. I wish to help. I wish to see beauty. I wish to breathe and dance and play and laugh.
I am ready for the next adventure. I want life to break me open. I want no more of this boxed in, breathless, anxious state. I can say I am afraid, but I'm surprised at what I am afraid of. I am afraid of being too successful. I am afraid that brighter my light, the more I will disappoint the people that have known me the longest and the best. It's just as irrational of a fear as any other, but it's different. I have always known that I am strong, full of love, and capable of achieving whatever it is that I want to. I have never believed that it would be well received if I did.
This is my fear. And if I don't break through it, I stay here - in a curled up state of suffocation.
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
I have a blank canvas. It's white. I detest white. Okay, not really detest. White can be exquisite and beautiful, especially in contrast to what is normally green and brown. Snowy days are gorgeous. Ivory soap is pretty. White hair can be stunning. What really bothers me about white is that without vigilance and constant attention, at some point, somehow, Life is going to come along and mess it up. White is impossible to maintain.
White is said to represent purity, innocence and cleanliness (from Wikipedia). Is that why I have a problem with it? Let me dissect purity. True purity is a virtue that likely no one can claim fully. The white wedding dress is an easy example. Whether or not you had sex before marriage is irrelevant. You probably had impure thoughts, at least. If wedding dresses could give away secrets, I wonder how many dresses would be completely white...... (still wondering)....... Mine? Not red or black, thank you very much. I think at least a spot of pink on the hem for even the purist of the pure. Having a name that means "pure" has always made me chuckle. I didn't even try to live up to that one ..... [grin] .....
I like the idea of purity, innocence and cleanliness. But kinky, experienced (wise?), and dirty is fun too. So, for me, adding color to life is among the best expressions of authenticity. My favorite color is purple. It always has been. But I don't decorate with purple. I have never painted a wall purple. When I decorate I use autumnal colors. Oranges, reds, browns, greens, yellows.... Those bold colors are my self-expression colors. Purple I save for my thoughts, small gestures, intimacy.
So, today I literally have a blank canvas. Interesting, too, that our lives are blank canvases. How will I best express myself with this blank canvas that I have? I have chosen my colors and my creation method and soon I will get to see what manifests from my intentions and actions. Maybe I will let a speck of purity and innocence show through. Maybe I will not. For me, at least, life is more fun when experienced in color.
You have officially been married 4 days now and WOW! You have survived it thus far. Happily, I assume. Kevin and I really appreciated witnessing your union and being a part of your reception. Thank you for the invite. Also, I appreciate being a witness to the spring-like embrace of fresh love. Before kids, before passion ebbs and flows, before trying to define yourself as a couple then individual then couple again. Before the work of marriage we celebrate the union. And, being married almost 12 years, I now know why a couple has an even bigger celebration if they make it to their Golden Anniversary. The commitment, the allowing, the forgiving, the patience and the joy it takes to get there is worth a party.
If you have seen the movie, you do know that Zack & Miri started as friends. Yet, from the beginning they acted more like a seasoned married couple. There were many important lessons from Zack & Miri that will aid you on the journey of your marriage:
Laugh at the jokes and the silly choices of your partner.
Talk openly about what satisfies you in the bedroom. Don't talk to your best friend about it if you haven't talked to your spouse. Best not to blog about it either.
Tell your woman she looks "pretty f-in' hot" in her dress. Do it!
Ty, offer to wash Summer's hair, scrub her back, paint her toenails, etc. Take care of your woman.
Mr. Fix-it is Sexy. So is Mrs. Fix-it.
Don't listen to the marriage nay-sayers. They are everywhere. But they don't know what you two have. And misery always loves company.
Be partners - you are on the same team. Run your marriage like a business. You're in the business of LOVE!
Remember romance rocks! It keeps the relationship fresh and exciting.
Boys have to have sex. (Summer, this is where you get to take care of Ty.)
And girls have to talk about emotions.
Surround yourselves with good friends.
Dance in the living room.
Don't expect Ty to understand what you want if you don't tell him, Summer. Boys don't think. Like girls.
Remember you married someone that you want to grow with. Expect to grow & change and be less like the people you were when you met. And yet, inherently the same.
Letting grudges go is essential to personal and marital happiness.
Marriage is an adventure of unknowns, not a commitment of constants.
Zack & Miri Make a Porno was really a love story. It was! The love was hidden behind the swearing, the nudity, the overused C word and the moaning. I hope all of the love and happiness in the world is funneled into your marriage. If you ever find yourself wondering who the hell you married and why, don't sweat it! We all have looked at our spouse and seen an alien. It is an adventure though. And that specific adventure we call "Find my abducted spouse. An alien has taken over." That is it. Your adventure awaits!
With Respect & Admiration,
Katie & Kevin
(He did not write a word. But I am used to that. I still sign his name on things. See how thoughtful that is?)
Life is always fun and games. Giggling. Red balloons that follow you around town. Bluebirds that sing. Deer that allow you to pet them. Gobs of money growing on trees in your backyard. Plenty of perfectly grown food with no additives, chemicals or hormones. A being that loves you NO MATTER WHAT with more love than you can handle in one lifetime - (so guilt, fear and depression are gone). This is my life. This IS your life.
Today my daughter and friend were playing and giggling. It's a nice sound to have in the house. Until CRASH! BANG! something breaks. Then a shriek of terror. An actual glass shard is sticking straight up out of her finger. Mom to the rescue. I pluck it out. No blood. No real injury. BUT THE HORROR! of the perceived injury is enough to make her shout out loud. Giggles quickly turn to cries and life turns 180 degrees on it's axis.
Imagine the people in the plane that went down in the Hudson River. Most probably started the day excited to be going somewhere other than where they were. Or maybe some had already tried that and were now excited to go back from whence they came. Maybe a few were clutching the hands of their loved one's in trepidation - but they didn't really believe anything would happen - did they? Up they go into the air - higher than humans should even bother feeling comfortable - putting their trust in the big hunk of metal and the credentials of the pilot. What they didn't know was that their pilot had some serious credentials. They are blissfully, ignorantly, flying along and some geese choose this day to become Airborne Foie Gras. The day of excitement, or at worst - normalcy, turns into a day of terror and fear in ONE chance meeting. Goose to propeller. Simple as that.
I haven't thought too much about that plane ride. I have praised the pilot and thanked God for lives saved (even though He had little to do with it). I can't really imagine that moment where joy turns to terror. What do you think about? What do you do? I honestly hope that my mind would be thoughtless. And that I could revel in the moment - loving who happens to be in the plane with me, & loving those who don't. Thankful for the opportunity to know how sweet joy is - how amazing life is. Sometimes it takes a shard of glass, a stupid goose, an unrequited love, an illness, an argument, or a long gray winter to appreciate the abundance of light in which we all reside.
It is my opinion that saying that your religion is the ONLY religion is similar to saying that my country is the best country. If that doesn't seems to strike a chord, you must believe that your country is the best country. I wonder how many billions of people would disagree with that.
I realize that many Americans believe that we must stay loyal to America despite our concerns with it's practices and policies, because this country gives us so much. For the most part, I agree. I think America is a wonderful place to live. I don't always agree with our policies and practices. That does not make me anti-American. It makes me want America to be better. Just as I believe I am always growing to be a better person.
Religions across the world not only believe that they have the only path to God, they talk about it. I don't think that the belief is what gets us into trouble as much as the talking about it. The bragging, the teasing, the I-am-better-than-you-are mentality. The stronger you believe that your way is the only way (which many say is required for "TRUE" faith) the stronger you react to anything that is different from your way. Your EGO says "fight" when challenged. Your EGO is not GOD. Your EGO is the voice in your head that says "I need to be right or I am nothing".
It is the same larger EGO that nations hold when they bully, fight and go to war. One nation believes that their government holds the key to everlasting peace and prosperity. The other believes that peace and prosperity come through THEIR form of government. Asking the officials of either nation how the individuals in their country feel about their policies will not garnish an honest answer - you must ask the people themselves. If you ask ME: if a country really wants to do good in the world they would stop genocide. But genocide is largely ignored. I want people across the world to be loved, safe and happy. If that means that they choose another form of government, so be it. If we push people to accept democracy, we can't whine and cry when they push us to accept something other than democracy.
If we ask a religious head what each individual member believes, I do not think that we would hear ONE version of the truth across the membership, among ANY religion. The real truth is you can only know what you believe. You cannot know that what you believe is the best for everyone, the right path for everyone, the only way for anyone but you.
Religion is a personal experience among a doctrine of perceived truths. Your personal experience cannot and never will be the same as any other member of that religion. You may have similarities and understandings, or you may be so far from anothers beliefs that you barely recognize them as a fellow human. But the truth is the only similarity we all share is our humanity. In our humanity what we need more than anything is love, understanding, respect, and kindness. If you are unable to give that away freely, how can you stand in anger when it cannot or will not be given to you? I am happy to be American, I am blessed. I do not believe for a moment, though, that I am better than a Canadian, a Mexican, an Iraqi, a Colombian, a Norwegian, etc. I am just me. I have my beliefs based on how I make sense of this world and they work for me. I think any member of any other nation or religion can have just as much assurance in their beliefs as I have in mine and NOT offend or take away from mine IN THE SLIGHTEST. I mean that. Not at all.
Fighting for anything just causes more fighting. So it would also make sense that love might just cause more love. Peace, more peace. Acceptance, more acceptance. Respect, more respect. GET IT??? BE THE CHANGE YOU WANT TO SEE IN THE WORLD. You be it. If you can be it first, I bet you anything - others will follow. (Thanks to Ghandi for his wise words)
Last year I sent out a Christmas card that was da bomb. I had so many people tell me that it was the BEST one they had ever received. I think it had something to do with my (at that time) 3yr old. He wasn't wearing a stitch but held a gingerbread house in a mommy sanctioned appropriate spot. Seems like something a Bad Mother would do. The thing is that kid was a nud----is---t at the time. He wouldn't keep his clothes on for 2 seconds in the house. Most people just take their shoes off when they come in the door. Not he. And I was tired of dressing my kids in matching sweaters and making them smile with their arms around each other like they actually get along. They don't really. And they don't like cutesy sweaters and matching outfits. They just want to be themselves. And when I force Preppy-Unity it backlashes. So, instead I offered individuality. They smiled for that picture like the cheshire cat high on weed.
I also find the letters that people send about how Great! and Positive! and Happy! the year has been a little like investigating a crime scene. Because we all know that fueling the gratitude and positivity is the behind the scenes stuff that screams "we made it another year - together, alive and out of jail".
Did sonny boy not flunk Algebra for the 10th time? Yay! Just gush about what a genius he is. Did daddy stop flirting with the secretary after hours? Easy, he's a hard worker and has become the epitome of a devoted family man. And momma found Twilight, blogging, and drinking wine before it's time? Put her down as an avid writer, reader and wine connoisseur who now delights in cooking.
It's not that I am a negative person, quite the opposite I think. I just want people to be REAL.
Here goes my Holiday card to all of you:
Dear friends,
This year started off cold. It was January on the first day of the new year and where we live that means cold. I wanted to move south but my husband said no, so I decided to spend his money to keep myself sane and happy.
While my son was having a hard time adjusting to the different medications we were trying for his anxiety, I wanted to run away. The darkness of the season mirrored the darkness of my mood. But I was holding it together. Which meant I was holding us together. Because if momma ain't happy .... say it together now... ain't no body happy. I know dat's right.
When spring decided to come in late April, the warmer weather, singing birds and flower's sweet scent, warmed, bloomed and pleasantly perfumed my mood. We had paid off enough bills to take out another big loan and replace my long-ago dream car that was falling apart. We began staying up later than 9pm again - which meant we could actually rekindle relationships that had drifted apart when we went into hibernation. Kevin started promising to do many home projects. He spent hours promising and planning, planning and promising. He had big dreams for a new roof & new deck. And, moving along ... we purchased new bikes for the kids so that they could expand their territory in the neighborhood. "Go ahead and ride around the block a few times". I was so proud of them. No GPS systems, or anything.
Summer. Much of the summer is spent trying to balance my life with the life of three kids at home and family visiting for an extended period of time. This year we enjoyed two weeks with family. Yeah, it was hard at first but we managed to get by on only two weeks together. We had to fit more things into two weeks because the year before we had five weeks. I am grateful for the two weeks. Really. Truly. Grateful. We love spending time at the beach and time at the lake. Summertime didn't give me enough craziness, so I decided to start this blog, Scandalicious Suburbia. For that I am really grateful, too. As are you. Oh, and I read Twilight (and the rest of the series) and I have to say just like when I read Jane Austen, my life has changed and will never be the same. Finally, but most importantly, I began a renewed and strengthened relationship with my MIL. That is true. I realized that if you continue to bend over, knowing what is coming when you do, you have no good reason to cry about it. That was a good lesson to learn. Stop bending over.
Fall is my favorite time of year. I love to see bright colors. I found peace again as my children started school. God is good. My nine year old is having a good year. My daughter is reverting to a five year old. My four year old is "really thriving" (to quote his teachers). Little do they know that is because we forgot about him. Because of the positive start to the year, I decided one job was just too few and took on two more. I have made new friends and managed to keep a few of the old. Somehow, despite being very insecure about friendships most of my life, I actually find myself full and satisfied with my current group of friends. What is amazing is that they seem to be satisfied BEING my friend. (Like, they actually call me to do stuff. Count on me. Need me.) While I don't advocate living off of the feeling of being needed, I do condone liking it. Appreciating it.
So, now we come back around to darkness. Just yesterday I learned, as we all did, that the USofA has been in a recession since December of 2007. I love how we didn't know that then, but now we do. Like they can just go and change the past like that. "Oh, BTW, when you thought things were okay in 2007, yeah, well they weren't. Sucks to be you ... then." So now that we are in an official recession many of us are fearful. Yet, I feel light. There is nothing like a cathartic letter of truth and a declaration that when you thought you were all right, you weren't, to make you see that everything is always all right. Things are not always perfect, glowing, syrupy concoctions of our imaginations. Reality is a bit harsher. But much funnier, too. And definitely worth living for. What is more intoxicating and fulfilling than an adventure? And what is life but the biggest adventure of all?
Rock Me Amadeus, Katie
(Oh, and if you noticed, I don't speak for my entire family. If we were really trying to be truthful about our year we would let everyone write their own story, right?)
When is it ever okay to pick your nose? When there is not a Kleenex around (in the car, at the bedside, in the store)?
I have a sore in the upper corner of my nose. I get them every few months or so. They look like a little cut/slice and they hurt. I don't know if my nose gets too dried out, or if it's some sort of bacteria/fungus thing. All I know is that because it stings, I play with it. Not really fondle it, play with it, more like pick at it, play with it. I get the scab out only to realize that it's getting worse.
Soon the tip of my nose turns pink with either irritation or infection. Gross. So then I look like Rudolf with a possible obvious nose-picking issue. By deduction why else would the tip of a person's nose be red? I guess I could blame the weather. Though, if I am inside for over 15 minutes, there goes that excuse.
Yes I want your comments! Though, I am almost sure I will get no comments on this post because who is going to admit that they DO pick their nose for certain reasons or on reasonable occasions? Oh, but a few will comment to state explicitly that they HAVE NEVER and WOULD NEVER pick their nose. Yeah, and they probably don't masturbate, either. Whatever.
Anyway, my nose hurts. My finger will have to go up there to put the anti-biotic cream on it next. So, if you see me picking my nose, maybe just hand me a tissue.
Today I start my job at the local public library. I love books and reading, so the library seemed like a great place for me to work . I usually work for businesses or organizations that I know I will either feel "at home" or enjoy the perks of a special discount. I used to work at Pier One. I loved spending my entire paycheck on the misfit home decor. The misfits were the things that we couldn't sell full price. But the hospital? I don't know why I feel comfortable there. I don't love illnesses or dying. But I am not afraid of them , either. And my memories of a hospital are only good one's - three babies came into my life there.
The library will be fun, though. I get to work with a diverse crowd in customer service. My fave! And I am going to do some program assistance. In other words, I will be a part of evening programs, keeping people happy and comfortable. Okay, basically the coffee girl. But I like that. I escape coffee girl at home and go get paid to be coffee girl.
Here is the hard thing about working 2 jobs (with a potential 3rd from home) and co-leading a Brownie troupe. I have to balance it with all of my "regular" mommy duties. Cleaning the house, kid care, etc. So, out came my planner. After months of simplicity I have to rely again on my planner. Though that means I could easily mess up and forget something (a pet peeve of mine), it also means I have a full life. I often thrive internally when I feel busy. Being busy also means, though, I don't know when I'll have time to write all of my thoughts down.
But, I have counted on Scandalicious Suburbia for the last few months as a tool to work my thoughts out. I think it has become a habit. You might just find a few more grammatical errors because I'll have less time to re-read and correct them.
Relationships are hard. Right? Or no? If you say no, you may very well be a spiritual master - & we need to talk. If you say "yes" you are like the millions of people in relationships that feel unloved, undesired, unappreciated, stressed out, lonely, unhappy, and frustrated. What if I tell you that there is a specific book that has all of the answers that you need to become that spiritual master of love, and said it in simple, 'holy crap! this is easy to understand' terms? Guess what? There is such a book.
I don't know why I haven't been more specific on this blog about the books that have transformed my life. I have quite a collection. Rather than spend my money on therapy I have spent it on books (probably enough money to buy a Master's level education in therapy - okay not really - but close.) The thing that I have received from books that I haven't found in a specific therapist is specifics. I love therapists, and believe that they have their place in healing, too. We have a wonderful therapist for our children and for family issues that need immediate resolving. There is nothing like having a live person to talk to when needing an immediate third-party objective view on something. BUT, I have always needed something that only books could provide - the words of the wise at my fingertips, available around the clock and affordable. In reading books I found answers from people that have both a spiritual and relational perspective. I also sought books for many reasons. One, because I wanted to know how to get along better with people, not the analyzation of why I am not. (I already do tons of analyzation on my own, anyway. I think I have out analyzed any therapist I have ever seen so nothing they say ever surprises me.) I wanted to stop blaming my childhood & the people around me and take personal responsibility. I needed to find a way to change my thoughts so that I could be more at peace and more understanding of who-I-am in the world. I also tend to talk a lot and therapy isn't financially conducive to long-winded answers.
So, I pick up books. I have always loved reading for it's relaxing & quiet support. And for reasons that are probably innate in me, I have always been drawn to the personal development books. As a teenager I bought Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus (from which I still use the useful metaphors). In college I bought books on depression, mother-daughter relationships, and being happy. (I'll give you one guess of how I felt then.) Now, I mostly buy books from spiritual/personal development authors. Most of the books I buy now can't be found in the regular personal development section - though some of the more popular authors do reside there. Now, you can find me in the New Age section just as often, if not more. That is the section where you will find this wonderful book I am rereading.
As I mentioned yesterday, there are things going on around me in the lives of others that have awakened a new sense of desire to know exactly how love works. I am speaking, in the cases I am aware of, specifically of Eros love, the kind of love we have for a spouse or a lover. Whether the desire to reread this book came before the awareness of the issues that surround me, or I went back to the book innately knowing I would need it, I don't know. I do know that this book is eye-opening and a must-read for anyone in any relationship of any kind. In other words, unless you are agoraphobic you probably have use for this book.
There are some people that have no interest in reading self-help books and I respect that. But if you are at all interested in having more love and peace in your relationships than you thought ever possible - READ THIS BOOK! If you have already read the book - reread it with me. I wish that I could have a "book club" event with all of my blog readers in person (because you know how fun book club can be), but I can't imagine the attendance would be very good. However, I can suggest this book and discuss it with you via email, phone or blog comments.
And the book? Have I built it up enough? Are you sitting at the edge of your seat in anticipation?
In every relationship there are two halves of that relationship. One half is you, and the other half is your son, your daughter, your father, your mother, your friends, your partner. Of those halves, your are only responsible for your half; you are not responsible for the other half. It doesn't matter how close you think you are, or how strongly you think you love, there is no way you can be responsible for what is inside another person's head. You can never know what that person feels, what that person believes, all the assumptions she makes. You don't know anything about that person. That is the truth, but what do we do? We try to be responsible for the other half, and that is why relationships in hell are based on fear, drama and the war of control. - pg 66
And, If you take your happiness and put it in someone's hands, sooner or later, she is going to break it. If you give your happiness to someone else, she can always take it away. Then if happiness can only come from inside of you and is the result of your love, you are responsible for your happiness. We can never make anyone responsible for our own happiness .... It doesn't matter how much you love someone, you are never going to be what that person wants you to be. -pg 53.
The Mastery of Love is filled on every page (there are 205 of them) with the formula that our relationships need to heal. And I'll give you a hint: self-love is a key ingredient. Buy it. Read it. Live it. (And then let me know how it's going.)
Footnote: Don Miguel Ruiz's books: The Four Agreements, The Voice of Knowledge and this one, The Mastery of Love, have all changed my life. I specifically found The Voice of Knowledge to be one of the most eye-opening books I have read in my lifetime.
My heart is so full. With hope. With love. With gratitude. I am so honored to be a part of this historical moment. My older two children even seemed to understand the depth of this moment in history. I don't find the moment historical simply because our next President is an African American, which is amazing beyond words, but also because of the grass-roots effort that came together to win this election. I have found him nothing but gracious to his opponents, level headed and deep-hearted. He has inspired people who have never before voted to vote. If I were on the other side of this campaign, I would hope that I would at least respect the historic and inspirational campaign that he ran.
Many of you have seen this video, but I didn't watch it in full until today.
And I also found pictures like the one below all over the internet. In this case it is a woman in China, the world is celebrating with us.
Spreading the wealth. It's gotten such a bad rap this political season. Here is my personal take on it.
I am not wealthy or poor. I am middle class. Living paycheck to paycheck. Staying home with my kids (for the most part) because to put them in daycare would require a starting salary of $36,000 or more - which is a hard one to "walk in to". Our family is one lay-off away from the poor house. Kevin works his butt off so that does not happen. We have little debt - some but not much. We have an excellent credit score. This is who we are fiscally.
Who I am as a person is what makes me a "liberal". I believe in sharing. I share anything I can - my ablility and happiness to watch my friend's children when they need a break or the help. My food and home to entertain friends for dinner and build better relationships. Homemade goodies or little gifts for people I love. Dishes if someone is hosting an event or people recovering from medical issues. My time for school events and volunteer activities. These are things that I happily give away. If I had money, I would share even more.
I very much believe that this is what makes our country great. Not capitalism. Not materialism. Not who can have the most stuff. But who we are and how we treat each other.
On Halloween day I read a status on Facebook that said: in preparation for new tax plans we should take candy out of certain kid bags and give it to those who don't have as much. Spread the wealth around ya know.
I responded that as a parent that would be fine with me. My kids don't need gobs of candy to be satisfied. An amazing thing happened that night. My son decided, on his own, to share his candy. We had run out of candy and the door was closed - he was outside. He came into the house and said "Mom, I am sharing my candy with kids that don't have very much." He melted my heart (and the hearts of those in the room). He did this all on his own, unprompted. I know he has a big heart - this proved it. Yes, he earned that candy. Yes, he could have kept it all for himself. I understand that to "make" him give it out could have easily created the opposite effect. Foot stomping, tears, yelling, "i hate yous". If I had forced the sharing, it still is the right thing to do. It's just some people who don't share naturally have temper tantrums when they are asked to share.
I know a few very wealthy people that don't want to "spread the wealth". These same people don't like to pay full price for anything, they enjoy handouts from friends and family without reciprocating, & they look for deals everywhere. They have the means to pay full price and yet they avoid it at all costs. I call them "cheap" or "moochers". They want handouts and yet they don't want to give handouts to others. I just can't fathom being that selfish. I know the main difference between us - I want the best for humanity, not just for myself. In my experience, giving is better and more fulfilling than receiving.
My feelings and opinions on this topic have more to do with humanity than with Republican vs. Democrat. I have never been a political-minded person. I have always been a human-minded person. The negative spinning on Obama's "spreading the wealth" has riled me up a bit, though. I realized, on Halloween, that it comes down to whether or not sharing is natural for you. And if not, can you grow to see why it's essential to a peaceful experience of life?
Within the next ten years, America will have a renaissance or a catastrophe. Something is going to happen to take us back to who we are. If America were an individual seeking counseling, a good therapist might say: "Number one, you're not really sober. Number two, you're obsessed with material things and your spiritual life is begging for attention. Number three, you rarely take responsibility for your own problems and project a lot of blame onto other people. Number four, you've neglected your kids. Number five, the size of the elaborate security system around your house shows paranoid tendencies. Number six, you have a lot of amends to make. Number seven, your attraction to generals is neurotic."
Whether the patient takes the cue or not remains to be seen. But for a person or for a nation, everything will erupt in time if we do not attend to the inner life.
My friend Sarah came to visit a few weekends ago. We had a few drinks at a bar on Thursday night and then Friday we went to an antique store to find goodies for her vintage kitsch collection. After our visit to the downtown antique store we went to a local coffee joint to have a coffee and some good conversation.
We hit topics such as: politics, abortion, religion, spirituality, gay rights, the economy... it was a good convo. 'Specially fun because we weren't defending our stance on issues but sharing our beliefs. Out of the corner of my eye I saw this young (younger than us) girl sitting at her computer. I later told Sarah I KNEW she was listening, and Sarah said she saw her look up at us a few times. She started packing up to go and sure enough stopped at our table.
She was shaking. She went on to say that she had overheard our conversation. She went into a personal story of struggles, fear of crazy religious people, to a moment of clarity, to a church parking lot, to being welcomed by the church members, to a personal relationship with Jesus, to inviting us to her church. Her story was compelling and sweet. Sarah and I could relate to her moment of clarity and her fear of crazy religious people. I can relate to her personal relationship with Jesus (I don't want to speak for Sarah) and her wanting to share what has worked for her with others.
Scandalicous Suburbia is my testimony to the choices and beliefs that have worked for me. I fully realize that I have opened myself up by blogging in that I could potentially have many readers. Or I could be blogging to only 1 reader - me. Either way, once written it is not my choice who reads this blog. People find me and visit me for a number of different reasons I am sure, "becoming a hippie" is topping the list so far of readers that find me through Google.
I don't hold any expectations of my blog changing minds or lives. I don't sit around hoping that my blog gets read by thousands of people and makes me famous. Blogging isn't meant to be my life's work, I know that. But I still enjoy it. It's fun & I do it for me, really. I do it to process my thoughts and live who-I-am out-loud, something I didn't do much of until recently. So, if you read it, you may hear me talk about Byron Katie and The Work because her process on how to live in the moment changed my life. You might hear me mention TUT, the website that sends me a fabulous, funny daily email from The Universe. I have read and loved Seth books by Jane Roberts, EckhartTolle, Neale Donald Walsch, Don Miguel Ruiz (specifically The Voice of Knowledge), Wayne Dyer, PemaChodron, The Tao Te Ching, M. Scott Peck (specifically Further Along The Road Less Traveled), and A Course in Miracles to name a few. These people/books may all get mentioned on my blog because it is MY blog and they were enlightening and important to my path.
What I do not understand is the belief that some hold that their way of life (their choice of religion/books/beliefs/etc) is the only way of life and should be a one size fits all for everyone. What happens when we begin proselytizing to other people is that we begin to look naive, closed minded and cold. The political tactic of making the other guy look bad has never sat well with me, no matter what party. Why aren't politicians talking about what they will bring to the office instead of what the other guy won't bring? And religion: I have known people who hoped to bring followers to their religion, talk to the potential converts like they are stupid and naive, somehow not ready for the "one truth", & disappointing The Lord until the moment they join the "one true" church. The girl that told us HER church was the place that WE could find healing, believed that with all of her heart and stated in simply and lovingly. When she left I loved her for being so brave as to share her sorrowful and triumphant story with two strangers. An amazing testimony from her soul. It was her story about her path to freedom. I can hear it and love her. I don't have to make it her story about my path to freedom.
I have my own story about me. I have shared parts of it here, on Scandalicious Suburbia. I have shared it openly. I don't expect everyone to agree with me. I don't hope for anything specific by sharing it. For me, it's about opening up to Life. Just by writing and clicking "Publish Post" I am opening myself up to the world. I have learned that when I do this the world opens itself up to me, too. However, my sense of self, my passion, my heart is not wrapped up in the comments or the feedback or how many new friends I receive or people I convert to my way of thinking. My self-identity is only wrapped up in Me. How I feel. What I think about. Whether I am being loving, open, and kind to myself. It's only when I am being good to myself that I can be good to others. I play my music and others benefit (if they like the sound of it, that is). Changing my music to theirs to win them over makes no sense and making people change their music to mine to gain followers is loveless.
This video, from Abraham (another of my favorites), is an amazing testimony, for me, to the value of living Your Life without expectations and judgements of others.
So, on a drive home from a play-date with the daughter of my conservative friends, my seven year old daughter said "Why do I only see McCain signs or Obama signs?" The only time she brings up politics is after playing with this friend, so I was prepared for a discussion.
Me: Well, those are the two choices. Her: There are only two choices? Me: Yes. Only two. Pretty weird, huh? That would be like walking into an ice cream store and only being able to order vanilla or ..... I stopped myself. I was headed down the wrong road. Not PC. Not the message I wanted to send. Not coming up with another flavor very fast.
Me: or Strawberry. Just two choices. Or between Chocolate and Strawberry. But just two. That's exactly like our vote. Out of all of the people in our country we choose between two people. Her: I would vote for chocolate. Me: (oh, she's smart...) Oh, ya, it's a great flavor, right? Her: No because of Obama's skin color. I would pick chocolate. Me: Uh... well, actually I wasn't trying to .... okay. Yep. I would choose chocolate, too. So, you get it right? You could walk into Baskin Robbins and order your choice of 32 flavors. But in the case of an election you get two choices. Chocolate or Vanilla. Not a very good ice cream store, eh? Her: No. (Now she's bored. Over it. And I'm still thinking.....)
You definitely don't get to choose the ingredients or "mixins" for the perfect candidate, ala Cold Stone Creamery. A well developed, highly successful, equipped with cutting technology, ice cream store with two choices: Vanilla or Chocolate.
Just a night after posting about my ability to parent blissfully, and only moments ago, I told Kevin:
Me: We are the worst parents in Kalamazoo. We are lazy. We'd love it if the kids made their own food, entertained themselves, and tucked themselves into bed by 9:00. The difference between you and I is that I KNOW this about us. You don't seem to realize how lazy you are. I do. And when I do I work to change it. And even when I don't want to work to change it I do, because the kids obviously CAN'T feed themselves, and would never tuck themselves into bed. So, start helping me out by realizing how crappy a job we would be doing if we COULD.
Kevin: (no comment. just stared at me)
So, the truth is I do believe all of that stuff I posted yesterday, and I really do my best to live it. BUT I don't do a "perfect job". And I certainly have not attained blissful wifery yet. I am working on that too. I am sure Kevin is NOT working on attaining blissful husbandry. He already seems to be accepting of all of my stuff. More than I am of his.
I think the biggest hurdle is that he works and I stay home. So, when does my time "on the job" end? Only when I schedule time outside the house. Which I do often. I have a pretty active social life because otherwise Kevin would work, hunt, or I'd watch him sit and watch cartoons with a basket of laundry next to him that remains unfolded. I have to get out of the house to have time for me - without Things To Do staring me in the face.
If you haven't concluded yet - this evening was not blissful. And again, all because of my expectations. BLEH! But I'll get over it and go back to being grateful - tomorrow.....
Blissful parenting is possible. Guess what? It does not require burning incense or daily meditation! Being blissful also does not require a person to be without emotion & perfectly in control. Quite the opposite, actually. I believe, to master parenthood is to allow each moment to be it's own perfection. To allow all emotions that come with motherhood, even the feelings of it's never-ending, difficult and scary, to just be. No reaction. I can have the feelings but I don't need to attach to them by trying to control them. A blissful experience of motherhood requires letting go of control.
I know the feeling of never-ending parenting will soon be the feeling of it-went-by-too-fast. So, when I think the thought "motherhood has trapped me - I have no freedom!" and apply The Work to it, I know that it isn't true. I know this because it's just as true or truer that time goes so fast as parents, supported by how quickly my babies have grown. By giving more attention to the moment, rather than the past or the future, my fears and frustrations fade to little blips of nothingness.
I know that my worries, fears, and frustrations come from my expectations of my children and not their failures. Funny then that I expect children to do things that I do not always do. Are children expected to "know better" and "use their manners" as soon as an adult teaches them their version of right and wrong, and their usage of please and thank you? Do I always use my manners and do what is right - 100% of the time? No. I don't. It is amazing how many parents discipline children for things that they have taught them. I include myself in this, unfortunately.
So, for some time I have pondered what type of parent I want to be and how to grow into being HER. I believe my blissful parenting moments come from lowering my expectations, raising my awareness of my own self and others (as in, we are all doing the best we can in the given moment), allowing my children to be who they are, and striving to live in the moment. While I'm only able to do my best, I remain aware that motherhood is my greatest opportunity to teach what I live and live what I teach. So, I teach my kids that mistakes are okay. Being upset or grumpy is okay. Standing up for yourself is okay. Being polite is usually appropriate, but not always. Loving your family and friends is important - but so is communicating with them, even when it's not easy. Hugging is always appropriate to show care and concern.
The following list consists of ways that I attempt to achieve peace of mind while parenting:
Dance with my kids - or get on the floor and play with them
See them as unique little individuals as often as possible
Realize that they won't react to situations in a "polite" or "correct" way most of the time
Stop comparing them to other children; their siblings or their peers
Give thanks to them and to God for them - daily
Apologize to them when you have done or said something that may have hurt them
Listen to them when they have something to say.
Give them responsibilities and reward them - with praise in the least
Let go of preconceived ideas on parenting - saying NEVER before you get to experience the options. Such as: my baby will NEVER use a pacifier. Uh-huh, then I realize that is the only thing that works to quiet the baby and allows me to sleep....
Realize that vocalizing rules on parenting to others can come across as naive to current parents (they are waiting for you to find out how it isn't as easy as you think) or judgemental to people with different ideas
Have an open and flexible mind (less expectations) because my kids will test it. Their job as children is to test life for themselves. The less flexible and open I am, the more I will feel tested and the harder parenting will be.
The harder I work to protect my children from my fears the more possible it is for my fears to find life (that is: actually happen). For instance: a school age child that is always required to hold a hand crossing the street could easily be taught to cross without hand holding while learning the procedure for crossing safely. Children who depend on their parents to make most of their choices for them can find themselves lacking the skills to protect themselves. This rule that I have for myself is specifically about age-appropriate small-scale safety issues. Learning how to use the stove, cross the street, climb, ride a bike, stay home alone, drive, use birth control - these are the things I want my kids to grow into knowing. Safely. With lessons. From Me or Kevin.
I have found that any opportunity to allow my children their individuality and growth in an safe and age appropriate manner, lessens my anxiety and fears and does not exacerbate them. When I quiet my fears I feel more peace. With more peace, I am a more stable role model for my children and a happier woman in general.
Yes, I love you. Even when you forget to pick up your underwear and you leave it for me to do. I love you when you say everything is going to be okay even though I haven't found a job to help make everything okay and instead spend my time blogging, tweeting, and meeting friends for drinks.
I love you because you love me more than your mom. I love you because you and I created cute kids (forget that they have also acquired our worst habits and quirks). I love you for working your ass off, literally, and causing me to dream about fitting into YOUR skinny jeans. Lest I forget my weight loss goals. I love you for staying true to yourself. You have always kept me waiting and I am sure you always will. Don't change for anyone, baby. I love you for thinking I am employable: smart, quick, dependable, funny, anyone would be lucky to have me. Even though no one seems to want me. I love you for letting me paint our house shades of the fall colors I love. I am not sure what colors you love for walls. I love you for thinking I'm sexy - even though I don't quite resemble the 17 year old I was when I met you. I love you for not caring about the fanciest cars, clothes, and things. When I buy you a Crossfire you'll have your own cargasm. Right? I think... I love you for being open to me sharing all of my scandalicious thoughts with unknown and known readers.
I just wanted you to know why I love you. I am sure there are more reasons, but we are headed on a date. And I'll take actually talking to you over typing to you, via Father Internet and Mother Masses, any day.
If I believe the news today I may be on a sinking ship, similar to the "unsinkable" Titanic (or USA?). If so, I know I have a few options in taking on the imminent danger. According to the movie, Titanic, I can:
Lie down on my bed. Masturbate. Or have sex with my husband if he is available. Wait - I don't think this option is in the movie, but it would be more fun than simply lying down, closing my eyes and drowning.
Find a way to die before I die. Cuz that makes sense.
Run. Did ya know that zigzagging is especially confusing to water?
Hide. Another option. Maybe the water won't find/kill me if I hide in the bathtub. It has a drain y'all.
Jump. Yeah, I might survive that free-fall.
Count failures like sheep. Die in misery.
Find a lifeboat. Try not to look into the eyes of the people that don't have a lifeboat. Sort of like the Republicans. Every man/woman/child for themselves. Richest people first. Gay? Good Luck.
Help the others find lifeboats. Or at least help them find peace by continuing to play my music. (I dance to the tune of LOVE - if ya haven't caught on). You know like the quartet in the movie. Yeah, you get it.
It appears that only the lifeboats can potentially save my life, but at the expense of another's. Yes, that is how it is. I get that.
But how do the ship's officers decide who survives and who goes down with the ship? In the movie there is a definite class divide - the rich are more worth saving than the poor. The third-class passengers were locked away & didn't even have the choice- to run, hide, jump overboard or try for a lifeboat. Locked down in the lowest levels of the ship for fear that they would impede the survival of the elite. I agree that the children should be helped first. But not just the rich, (white, straight, smart) important kids. All kids. And to help all kids you sometimes have to help their family unit.
So, what would I do? Well, because of who I am, I would pick the last option. I am not afraid of death. I am afraid of being cowardly in order to survive. If and when I have the chance to share my music with people that are afraid, left behind, angry, or unsure, I will take it. Always.
BUT If I am locked down in the belly of the ship, with no one to share my music with - well then I will go out in ecstasy playing with myself.
Yesterday I told my child to steal. When the words came out of my mouth I realized there is no great way to explain what I meant and the why's and how's of it to a four year old. To ease some of my guilt I figured I would explain it to you. Like a confession. Forgive me friends, for I have sinned.
Our local mega-grocery store has a wonderful bulk food/candy section. There was a time when they passed out suckers to every kid that went through the check-out lane. When that stopped, I began allowing the kids to pick one thing out of the bulk food bins if they could make it through the store without whining, crying or asking for a dozen things. The big reward at the end of the long, boring shopping journey. BUT I did not begin this tradition without checking first. I am, for the most part, a rule follower. You will not find me participating in much that could get me in trouble with the law. So, why do I take a piece of bulk food without paying for it? Because I have asked the store clerks and management a million times (actually more than a dozen) if it is okay to have one piece of bulk candy, per child, while shopping. I have always been told that "yes, it is fine". I have done it in front of store clerks and they don't say anything. I tell you the truth: it was never intended to be sneaky or hidden.
Yesterday, my 4 yr old asked if we could pay for his Golden Coin (chocolate). Sure. That is fine. So, I took the Golden Coin up to the register as I was paying for my groceries.
I asked the lady clerk if we could pay for the one Golden Coin.
She said "No. You have to buy more. They are measured by cost per pound and one won't weigh enough to be measured." And.... I waited for her to say, "He can just have it."
She did not say anything. 4yr old cried loudly when I said "You can't have it." All the while I am thinking ... c'mon lady just make up a price "25 cents, 1 dollar, give it away..." She obviously didn't know their policy on SHARING one piece of candy. She just stared at me like I was stupid and wrong. Well, maybe they didn't have a policy TO share, but is it out of the realm of her power to make it happen? Let me restate this. I have asked about the bulk candy many times(due to my fear of doing something wrong and getting in trouble). Each time we go to that store we get a piece of candy - so at least once a week. So this not happening was WAY against the grain of normal for my 4yr old. I know, poor him.
When he was crying as we were pushing our groceries out to the car, - minus one Golden Coin - he said "why can't I have my coin?" And I said "Because you asked to pay for it. Next time just take it like we always do." And I realized I just told my son to steal. He doesn't know that his mom has okayed their taking with the powers-that-be. He doesn't understand that sometimes when you try to do the right thing you are met with confusion and no options. He doesn't understand that some people lack the ability or power to be creative or make decisions in their jobs.
And now I don't know if I have been teaching my kids something horrible all along. My kids know that we don't take anything from a store without paying for it. I just considered the bulk food a "sample". I believemy children will grow up to think taking a piece of bulk food is okay, but I don't think that means that they will think taking a bag of bulk food is okay, or taking something else is okay. So, I am not sure what to think about having taught my kids that taking a piece of candy, even with permission, is okay.
Tonight, I walked in the woods. I was silent. I let ideas come find me. It doesn't take them long. The mind heard "be a person with a passion to do a certain job". And I pictured it. I thought of me as a person with a career intention. Not floundering, not changing my mind, and not stopping. I realized that this was a "me" that I had neglected. I neglected my career in building my dream life. In neglecting my career, I have not walked a straight path to my dream. I decided it's time to find the path and walk it. While I know money is not what I need to be happy, it is what come from doing what I love and creating the life I want.
