Getting Into the Flow

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

So I've been teaching a painting class. I call it "Anyone Can Paint!" Although to me it has nothing to do with painting, that is just the vehicle I am using to teach something else. I am teaching individuals how they get into the flow -- the creative flow. How do you get into the creative flow?

I took many classes from Rassouli, the founder of Fusionart. Fusionart is a painting method that focuses on connecting to the heart and spirit and expressing from this ethereal space. The point of Fusionart is to release the mind and let the heart guide the brush, so the artist has no preconceived concept of what he/she is creating. Until the next brushstroke is laid down, the artist has no idea where it will land. A true Fusionartist is someone like Ralph White, who embraces the circumstance of the moment and knows that all effects on his canvas are meant to be. "There are no mistakes," Ralph always says. "Everything is meant to be."

When I teach I am teaching individuals how to get into the creative flow. I am teaching how to connect to that divine space where all creation bursts forth. BUT, I do not teach that the heart is the only access point. This may mean they connect with their mind, their heart, both, or none at all. It could mean they connect with their body, like a personal trainer I painted with a while back. What I’m seeing is that each individual has a path to get into the flow, and those paths are as different as we are. To respect the individual path and assist the creator in unveiling it, is what I am attempting to teach.

I do not teach the Fusionart way, because I myself have experienced being in the flow when BOTH sides of my brain are working harmoniously together. The analytical left which we call our "mind," and the compassionate right which we call our "heart." When I sit at the computer creating graphic design, these two parts work TOGETHER to create my work. I cannot run the computer without my left brain, and I cannot design without my right. And yet I get into that timeless space where there are no words. Where my husband will touch my shoulder and I will jump out of my chair because my attention is so far afield of normal reality I am surely not on the earth plane.

So when Rassouli would tell me to let go of my mind when I painted, I struggled with this. What came forward were my curve paintings -- geometric images of color. Structure that satisfies my left brain, with colors and light that make my right brain sing. These paintings are the quintessential expression of BONNIE, and I never felt like they were Fusionart. While they are never pre-conceived, once a single stroke hits the canvas, I do not deviate from the initial curve stroke that I make. I am confined by that first stroke, but it does not feel confining. It feels comforting and blissful. I find my greatest sense of joy and peace when I paint my curve paintings. There is no sense of restriction in them, just the harmony of blending brushstrokes. On the other hand, when I create a painting that is chaotic and feels like it has no order, I feel very unsettled by it. It does not bring me peace, and the painting experience is tense and stressful. But this is the painting that is "mindless" to me, so by definition it is Fusionart.

I’ve pondered this over and over, and I get very much into the flow even if I am connected with my mind. I am a balanced-brained person, and being in that balance is being in the flow for me. Being only in my right mind is out of balance for me, and therefore I am not connected to the flow as well. Does that make sense? Also, being in my mind doesn’t mean I am in the judgmental, analytical part of me. My left brain contributes a great deal to the organization of my work, but does not dictate the spontaneity of my brush strokes. My left and right brain know how to harmoniously create together — that’s why I’m so good at graphic design on the computer. The left brain does not interfere with getting into the flow, but instead contributes by guiding some tasks while I'm there. Going into the flow without my left brain is like leaving half of me behind. It just doesn't feel right.

And this is what I'm teaching others. Each of us has our own doorway into the flow. A car mechanic who is fixing an engine can very much be in the flow as a mad painter going full tilt without a care throwing paint on canvas. I believe being in the flow is a personal experience, and nobody should dictate how we get there. And more importantly, nobody should tell us whether we've been there or not. Only we can determine when we are connected to the universal creator, and what path we take to unlock that beautiful connection we all long to make.

Unbraiding the Anger

Friday, August 8, 2008

I just had a huge Aha! moment. Had to get up to share. I just figured why I've been angry at somebody for several months now. I figured it out, and the anger has washed away. What a relief!

Currently my husband and I are going through a disasterous experience with an extremely dishonest car repair shop. My anger at the experience gnaws at my stomach. I have such a hard time interacting with people who are dishonest and deceitful, and I realized tonight that I am angry at myself for not seeing through this car repair guy to start with.

As I mused at the discomfort this anger brings forward, I realized that it mimicks the anger I have been feeling towards someone I will call A. For over a year I was involved in a community group that I thought was the be all and end all. I was way in, deep, and sucked so deep I didn't think I'd ever get out. Recently though, for the second time, I pulled myself out. The first time I did it on impulse with no reason (back in January). The second time I did it because A yelled at me. Nobody yells at me. This was my signal to pull back. To be sure there were many more reasons that I pulled out, but the yelling was the last straw.

Since I pulled out, I've thought and said some harsh things about the group and about A. I was angry. Recently I've been feeling angry because I've been rejected by others in the group. I pulled out, but I'm mad because they pushed me out too. Deservedly so, but still it stung.

But tonight as I revel in the pool of resentment and anger of the car repair guy, it came to light that the same pool of feelings lurks in the corner with the unfinished business I have with A. The anger of the yelling, the anger of the behavior, the anger of how it all played out... And then I had that moment of revelation. I am NOT angry at A at all... I am angry at ME!! Yes, ME!

I am angry at myself for falling for A's illusions of grandier. For falling into that trap of believing so completely that I could not see clearly. For ignoring my husband's words when he warned me it may not be how I was perceiving it. For ignoring my mother's words who strongly warned me that she sensed deceit behind A's supposedly loving gestures. For ignoring my own intuition that knew all along that this was too good to be true.

But despite all my ignoring and not paying attention, I am most angry at me because of my longing to belong. THAT is the reason I ignored all these signs. That is the reason I chose to believe A's song and dance. That is why I was led down the merry path in the belief it would lead to some creative nirvana. It was another repeat of a similar performance that I have done before in my life. To sacrifice in order to belong. To ignore my own inner guidance in order to feel a part. The tremendous desire to feel "normal" and "like" others, when in fact, as one friend recently said, "Do you know you're an anomaly?" I will never feel "normal" or "like" others. I am an INFJ. As my fellow-INFJ friend Suz has said, we are unique. Our skill set comes in such a small subset of the population, many people can go a whole lifetime without meeting one of us.

I AM ANGRY BECAUSE I BETRAYED ME FOR THE SAKE OF A. Well you know what, A, no more. I see through the game. Lead your sheep. I will not ever be part of the flock. And I see so clearly that my lesson with you was about breaking away from the need to be part of the flock. Let the "normal" people follow as they do not have the ingenuity to create their own path. I am on my own. As my mom has said to me many times, "Bonnie, you do not need a mentor. You just think you do."

And so my wonderful USM skill of forgiveness has assisted me in releasing myself of the anger towards A because I know that the true anger lies with me. And so I say:

• I forgive myself for judging myself as wrong.
• I forgive myself for judging myself as deceived.
• I forgive myself for judging myself as bad for speaking my opinion about A.
• I forgive myself for judging myself for having judged A and his group.
• I forgive myself for judging myself as having ignored my intuition.
• I forgive myself for judging myself as putting other's needs before my needs.
• I forgive myself for judging myself as an idiot.
• I forgive myself for judging myself as having made a mistake.
• I forgive myself for judging myself as weird.
• I forgive myself for judging myself as an outcast.
• I forgive myself for judging myself as different.
• I forgive myself for judging myself as unable to fit in.
• I forgive myself for judging myself as unworthy.
• I forgive myself for judging myself as rejected.
• I forgive myself for judging my feelings as wrong.
• I forgive myself and release myself for all judgments around all things to do with A and his organization.

I am blessedly released from my anger. Suddenly I can breath more clearly. And now, in this moment, I know without question I am never an outcast. I am a divine being having a human experience, and despite anything that happens, I am connected to each and every being on this planet. Including you, A. There's no hard feelings, just light... Love and hugs, Bonnie

Busy Bee Indeed!

Thursday, August 7, 2008

So time has flown and I'm in a frazzle, but hey, that's life, isn't it? Seems most appropriate that I named my blog Busy Bonzlee. Indeed that has been me these past couple weeks.

Business boomed!! I mean seriously over the edge exploded. My husband and I are in awe, shock and serious stress trying to get it all under our wings so we can move forward into fame and fortune... this is how these things turn out, isn't it? We alternate between giggly happiness and throwing frustration. Corralling designers, keeping up quality and meeting deadlines that we set when we weren't so busy, it's all in a day's work.

But I'm pooped!! And some moments I wonder is it worth all the work? In six months times we've more than quadrupled our business. If we continue at this rate by the end of the year we will make 6 times as much as we made last year! Isn't that insane?! Who would have thunk?

But then I hear my kids crying because I haven't had much one-on-one time with them. I wonder if they're okay if we spend a year building a foundation which in the long run will bring us a very secure and comfortable life. I work at home so at least they see me. But I do miss them, and sometimes steal moments at night just lying with them in bed watching them sleep.

How much time away is okay if I am building our future? When I started this mountain climb I was hopeful but doubtful. As a few months past I started to see that my dreams of a lavish life were very doable, but in how much time? Now that 7 months have past, and we've seen a sharp upward turn of our earning curve, I suddenly see that all our dreams are possible. We can have more than we need, and live comfortable without working hard. But there is still more mountain to climb before we reach that plateau.

If it takes another 6 months or a year, do you think my kids will lose out because of it. It's not like I spend no time with them, but not as much as I did before. Jeremy is the one I worry the most because he goes to daycare all day rather than staying with us. Will they be okay if it's a while longer before mommy can plan with them for a couple hours every day?

This is where my heart hurts. I love our success, but I don't want our children to lose out in the meantime.

Learning About Loss

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Today I've wondered why God wants us to learn lessons about loss. Why must we go through the processes of parting from things and people we love? What is gained through this pain and heartache, and what are we suppose to find when we come out the other side?

Our kitty Misty has not come home. We've searched, hunted, put up signs, been in touch with local agencies... I think only a miracle will bring her home now. The other night I had a dream that she was trapped in someone's house. She wasn't totally unhappy, but she did not feel free. She wanted to come home. The maddening thing was, in the dream the house was less than a block from my home. I get the impression that she is right under my nose, but cannot seem to find her. Although in the dream I did rescue her and bring her home, so that made me feel good, until of course I woke up and realized it was only a dream. I must accept the loss of this beautiful, sweet kitty, but my heart is not yet ready to go there.

Today I have also keenly felt the loss of connection to my birth family. I went to a new doctor who of course gave me a pile of paperwork. Thing is, when you're adopted, you can fly through a lot of that paperwork. They ask all kinds of historical questions about family diseases, and I just kept writing "adopted, unknown". Each time I wrote it I felt the anger of the disconnection -- that loss of self identity -- that others chose for me. I do not know a huge part of who I am. It feels like a tremendous void in my inner being. There is a huge sense of loss.

Then at a business meeting today we talked for a moment about Brigette, a beautiful friend of mine who passed 4 years ago from multiple myeloma. She died quickly and unexpectedly at only 44 years of age. Just weeks before my husband said good-bye to Yoda, a feline companion of 18 years, who had tongue cancer. The year before I was overwhelmed by the loss of my feline companion, Shante (pictured below), who also went from cancer. I thought of these losses as I waited under my paper gown for my new gynecologist to come and do his thing. We never know sometimes when our time will be to exit stage left, and those behind will feel a loss.

So what of it, God, how come we go through loss? I can only speak from personal experience, but I think one of the greatest lessons we get from loss is a comprehension of how deeply we love. I can't say the same is true when I lose weight, but having lost friends and animal companions, I do know the depth of love is what seems most bold in those grieving hours. Mary Hulnick, one of the founders of University of Santa Monica, once said, "The depth of our grief is a measure of how deeply we have loved." And I do believe God is showing us through our losses that we have the capacity to love so deeply.

Today I yearned for another kitty. I thought to myself, "Misty may never come home, but this may be an opportunity to love another homeless cat."

By definition loss is parting with something that we do not wish to part with (again, don't have a clue why they use this word with weight loss). It brings about a yearning for something we wish to keep. Sometimes we try so hard to hold on, which only prolongs the inevitable loss.

This happened when my kitty Shante died. The vet gave her the injection, and I began to sob uncontrollably. Shante did not die despite receiving the full dose. The vet got angry at me and told me to pull it together and tell her she could go. She was staying for me. So I did pull it together and I told her I would be okay. I would miss her terribly, but I would be okay. Took the vet 15 minutes to find another vein, and then Shante left. And as her soul left that sweet feline form, I was overwhelmed by a sense of peace unlike anything I had ever experienced before. And as the days passed afterwards, and I cried more tears than I thought possible, it was that sense of peace that I clung to as a way to support my heart and soul. I KNEW she was okay, even if I couldn't see it with my human eyes.

So that loss taught me about God. Taught me about Spirit. About our connection despite the physical form we may take. It actually spurred the beginning of my own spiritual journey. Do you suppose that is the biggest lesson in loss -- that we are connected no matter the realm we occupy? Is this why I chose an adopted family in this lifetime -- so on some level my soul could really learn the lesson that biology does not connect us -- our divinity does?

Yes, this seems to be a good reason to experience loss. As does the experience of our measure of love. God has a plan for all of us, and even if we struggle through our lives, know that in each window of opportunity, there is a lesson to grow from.

It's All In My Head!

Friday, July 25, 2008

When I begin to cry or I'm really upset, I have that downward spiral feeling that I know is going to lead to a pit of emotion that I must wade my way out of. Ugh! Must I take this trip yet again!? It's even more exasperating when I realize it's all in my head, and my thoughts are converting to emotions that are just plain tripping me out. But then when I finally get what's trigging the inner onslaught, I reach a choice point. I can cop to it and be okay knowing that I just experienced my own mind trip. Or I can stay in that place of blame where I am positively certain that it has nothing to do with me -- for sure it is everybody else that makes me be the way that I am.

I used to be in the second position all the time. My mom made me feel insecure. My classmates made me hate my body. Society makes me hate that I am not perfect. They all made me do it!! Problem is, that defense doesn't hold up in court. We all have free will. If somebody "made" us do it, then the fact is we agreed to let it happen. Oh, it might not have been a conscious agreement that you actually thought about, but on some level I agreed to go along with whatever it is they "made" me do.

But I do like what happens when I reach that point in a self-realization journey where I get that it is all in my head. My thoughts create my feelings which motivate my actions. The fact is, I made me do it! How's that for turning the tables? And I know right now you are creasing those eyebrows wondering what nutty thinking this may be. But let me tell you, it's so true.

Tonight I'm telling my husband about insecure about my looks and how I believe he doesn't love me because I'm overweight and truly I wonder if anybody will ever love me unless I am thin... blah, blah, blah. Then I come to realize that the past 10 days have been a boom for our business. Things are going off the charts and we for sure are coming to the end of a record month on all fronts. The horizon is full of possibilities and we finally can breath easily because we know our future is secure.

Then I see that all my tripping the past 10 days about abandonment, appearance, not being loved is tied up in this great success. My brain once again goes to "Am I good enough?" And then I take a deep breath as I ask myself again, "Am I good enough?" And I see finally that these insecurities that have been plaguing me for a week are all about this tremendous success. Because I am scared shitless that I'm not up to the task. I have given myself one heck of a mind trip, and I finally gave myself permission to get off of it. What a relief!

Of course I'm good enough! I'm better than good enough, and my track record proves it! And my husband not loving me or fear of failure are all thoughts that I put in my head. Thoughts I created and I ruminated on and I grew into something larger than reality. It was simply all in my head. How nice to know that I can also CHOOSE to step out of that!

Ruminating Over Assagioli

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Tonight I was reading a friend's blog, and she brought up the discussion how others judge us for what we do. She had met somebody new, and she was concerned some of her "mistakes" in the past would cause this individual to reject her. Such a common theme... goes along this concept of abandonment which I have been tumbling in this week.

Her post reminded me of one of the fundamental concepts I had learned during my spiritual psychology coursework. It is so fundamental, they put it on the cover of their brochures:

"We are not human beings who have spiritual experiences. We are divine beings having a human experience."

Considering this concept, I remember back to learning about Robert Assagioli's psychosynthesis:

1. I have a body, but I am not my body.
2. I have emotions, but I am not my emotions.
3. I have a mind, but I am not my mind.

If we have all these things, but they do not define us,
then who are we?

"I am consciousness and will."

Hmm... what does this possibly mean? I am consciousness, but in the previous statement I detached myself from my mind. So consciousness is different than what the mind does. Is consciousness a state of being, or a state of doing, or both? To me consciousness is an awareness of the Soul. An inner knowing that there is a purpose that is greater than the physical realm we dwell in. Consciousness is a higher mind that does not operate on the physical level. It's like when you know to turn right instead of left, and then in the rear view mirror see a big accident happen. To me consciousness is a state of being. It is a being that is connected to that universal source from which we all came. It is the battery, if you will, of our lives. It drives us without directing us. But it always remains connected to a source power, and it never ceases, even when our physical selves die.

And what occurs when you combine consciousness and will? We have all heard about willful individuals. I know because I am one and I'm raising two others. Will by nature is a driving force. Something that goes full tilt ahead with little or no thought. It goes because it also knows what it single-minded about the goals it will achieve.

So conscious + will is a state of action. Together they bring to fruition the lessons of the soul. The consciousness knows why the soul incarnated in this lifetime, and the will carries the "psychology" about those lessons. In other words, the will gets us into trouble so we can find our way out and learn something from it.

Sound pretty hokey? Not really sure? Then let me ask you, is it easier to believe that we have come here to learn lessons, than to believe in a punishing God that does bad things to us? Is it easier to look at "bad" situation and wallow in it, or is it more uplifting to look at the blessings and find a way to peek at the light in the oh-so-dark tunnel?

Quick example: The ruptured aneurysm

Blessings (just a few as examples):

• Really felt the all love that comes to me from family and friends.
• For the first time in my life got down to the core of my being that my mother truly loves me.
• Gained a tremendous appreciation for my body and it's ability to heal.

Learnings (again, just a few):

• Don't trust your doctor if your intuition tells you otherwise.
• Never miss an opportunity to tell somebody you love them. You don't know if you'll have another chance.
• Accepting what is.
  

I now that life throws us curve balls sometimes. Believe me, I know. But it's not to knock us down. Honest! Look at the struggles you have in life. Consider what blessings might come of them. And consider what your soul might want to learn as well. Know that there is a purpose, and feel the realization that your consciousness and will are at work evolving the consciousness of your being.

Untangling the Web I Weave

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Today is a good day. Things seem to be going very well. Our business has suddenly taken off and we have so many wonderful projects coming in. Not sure how we're going to do them all, but I'm trusting that will happen. I have been taking care of myself food-wise and eating on plan for 3 days. I feel less tired. I only had one cup of coffee today. This is a good thing. I had my SE (somatic experiencing) appointment this morning, so I started the day in a calm, even space. My SE therapist gave us another lead on finding a live kidney donor for Steve... something to be so thrilled about. The kids are doing fabulous -- funny and fun as ever.

So with everything seeming to have fallen inline, I cannot help but wonder why I have spent most of this day feeling insecure, scared, nervous... It's as if a part of me is all shook up by the calm around. This morning my husband came to give me our morning hug, and I wondered if he was doing it because he wanted to or he felt he had to. Mid-day I was working on some projects and really feeling the stretch of learning I've had to go through to keep up. Can I do this? What if I screw something up?! And later in the day I had a group coaching call with my fabulous coach, Ralph White, and every time I spoke in the call I felt like a bumbling idiot. Me, who is usually so articulate, was stumbling over words. Didn't help that a couple of my clients were on the call. Did they think I sounded like an idiot?

It goes right back to what I wrote about the other day -- fear of abandoment. As unsignedmasterpiece said in a comment, "For what it's worth, you sound pretty loveable to me." And aren't I?

The crazy thing is, it feels like it all boils down to my weight. I hold a belief that I am truly hideous because of my weight. It does not help that I have aged considerably with two small kids and major health issues -- my body has been through the wringer in the past couple years. My hair was shocked white from the aneurysm. Oh, not all white, but even my hairdresser noticed that I went from just a little gray to about 50% gray pretty much over night.

I kid you not, I look at at myself and wonder who would love such a blob? My husband actually told me once that he isn't attracted to me overweight, and of course that just multiplied the problem exponentially. So anytime a thin, dark-haired, dark-eyed woman comes around, I'm paranoid he's packing up to run off. And I know it's just paranoia... I think. Yet the fear of it is so overwhelming. I am afraid I am not good enough because I do not look beautiful.

But this issue of my appearance goes beyond the personal. I like that I work at home and don't have to interact with others so much. I'm so worried I will be rejected based on my appearance. I'm not so great with clothes and I think and think before picking something for a business meeting. What if they don't like me because I'm fat or wearing the wrong thing? And in social situations I often dream of melding into the wallpaper so I don't have to try and keep up appearances that I feel happy with who I am.

The twists and tangles of psychology are so complex. I could probably give you five places the issues with my appearance originated from -- living in Southern California being near the top. Oh, and my mother saying, "Bonnie doesn't think she's beautiful. She knows she's plain looking." The real question is, how do we untangle this complex web of beliefs, feelings, thoughts and obsessions? Is it truly an onion that must be skinned one layer at a time?

I've done my fair share of internal work. I have a master in spiritual psychology, which is really just a degree in personal transformation. Two years of it on a monthly basis. I've done therapy, read books, done exercises at home. I've seen some of the unwinding of the onion skin -- the slow peel and the fast peel. I've seen other issues fall away and be healed forever. But this appearance psychosis... I haven't found the magic key. I know even if I lose weight, I will feel this way. The weight is a symptom of other things, and sure it effects my appearance, but I know from personal experience that this image issue is way more than just my weight.

Why do you suppose the American society is so image conscious? I've been to other countries, and they surely don't care as much as we do about appearances. People are beautiful just the way they are. But here in America they are so image conscious they do studies that prove that people who are "better looking" actually have an easier time in life. Who frickin' cares?! Yet so many of us buy into this ideology which goes against our internal esteem and in many cases we come up lacking.

I'm not saying there is an answer. All I'm saying is that amidst a finally calm and quiet time, where we have finally adjusted to the ups and downs, I feel sad. I feel sad because I am not enjoying our successes. And what I see is that in the eye of the storm, there really is nothing to distract me from the deep hole of emotions that I work so hard to keep bottled up.

When Does It End?

Monday, July 21, 2008

When does the feeling of abandonment end? Do we ever truly heal that primal wound of babyhood, being taken from our mother's bodies, and in my case separated forever? Where in the psyche does this information reside, and when does the fear of abandonment come to an end?

I'm a strong woman. I have done many, many challenging things in my life. I have accomplished so much, even my over-accomplished parents compliment me. My mother tells me today "Your father and I are proud of the woman you have become..." Of course implying ONCE AGAIN that what I was before I became the woman I am was somehow inadequate.

Tomorrow my husband is having a business meeting with a woman in our home. We work at home, she is going to be working for us, and it makes the most sense for them to meet here. Only thing is, I won't be here. I have to meet with a client about 45 minutes away. So then of course my mind goes racing. Should they be in the house alone? Do I have to worry? Why does my brain go here?! He's never given me cause to worry, but the fear of abandonment is so raw, it feels as if I am going through it again for the very first time.

I guess I have a very hard time believing anybody would ever truly love me. I mean truly -- accept me with my imperfect body, moody personality and quirky desires to know as much as my brain will hold. To really get that I make decisions based on an indescribable intuition, and I just plain refuse to interact with somebody if my intuition says no. To some I seem odd, different, unusual -- hey, let's just say plain weird.

But in my weirdness I am wonderful! Funny sometimes, always thinking, creative beyond imagination... wanting so much to help others and finding pure joy in the delight of discovery in my children. I love my work as a graphic designer, and it truly shows. I can't get enough understanding about how the human mind works. I've got hangups like everybody, but at least I cop to them. I know I'm controlling at times, I like things done MY way, I'm sure I know better than most... blah, blah, blah. I'm just like everybody else -- wonderful and imperfect all rolled into one.

Yet I cannot shake the feeling that somehow I am unlovable. That there is something in my core that cannot be removed, healed or replaced that makes me essentially unlovable. And so I go through these experiences of panic -- the fear that once again, I will be walked away from. That I will not be acceptable as me, and I will lose all over again.

Does this feeling ever go away? Can it be healed? I ask the universe, is there any way to accept the love that flows in my direction?

No More Sympathy for Me!

Sunday, July 20, 2008

So I got called out today. Happens occasionally, and if I'm in the right space, I'll actually listen to the call. I wasn't publicly called out, I was called out within my own inner realm, but still it was a shake-down from top to bottom. Bonnie, you've got to stop being so sympathetic over your life! Sympathy puts you in the mode of surrender, inaction and ineffectiveness. STOP IT!!

Have you ever thought about the difference between empathy and sympathy? To have sympathy for somebody is really tantamount to having pity for somebody. You look at them with sad eyes like they're a poor, helpless dog that needs a pat on the head. Empathy, on the other hand, is putting yourself in the position of that other person. It's looking at them, really getting what they're going through, and really connecting with their experience. In empathy, there is no judgment around their experience. There is only understanding. In sympathy, there is HUGE judgment -- you feel sorry for the person because their life is so BAD.

At USM they phrased it this way: When you look at somebody with sympathy, you put them in the victim position. Your judge their life as so bad, you feel sorry for them. However, if you look at somebody with empathy, you gain understanding of their position. There is no judgment, and you allow the person their experience without judging what the outcome might be. Sympathy locks the person into where they are. Empathy gives the person a way out.

You know, how you think of others fuels the energy of their circumstance. Just like "The Secret" can work for you, it works when you project ideas onto others. If you sympathize with a person, you add fuel to their story about "woe is me" and "look at the horrible circumstances that keep me trapped in my rat maze."

But when you empathize with a person, you do not add negative fuel to their circumstance, you add only love and compassion. And in that space, the individual can rise to the occasion and overcome their circumstance.

Sympathy = victimizes

Empathy = empowers

We do this within ourselves as much as we do it with others. So when I sympathize all over my weight issues, I only keep myself in that space. I create a comfortable victim chair and I sit in it and ask others to gather around and commiserate in my story. But when I empathize with my life-long food struggles, and the frustration with my endocrine system, I look at them for what they are -- challenges that create an opportunity for me to rise to the occasion and overcome them. In empathy I am powerful and I empower others. In sympathy we all wallow in the same cesspool.

So the sympathy ends today. I got called out on an internal memo, and it clearly stated the sympathy was no longer wanted or acceptable. I am fully capable of healing, growing and transforming any life challenge into a positive and brilliant end. Heck, I went to the edge of death and came back, and anything after that is truly going to be a cinch!

Pass the Bottle, Please!!

Saturday, July 19, 2008

I rarely drink. I could probably count on one, maybe two hands how many drinks I have in a year. Not that I have a problem with alcohol, just don't really care for how I feel in the morning. It's an easy refusal. But sometimes there are days where I practically grovel for a drink. Please pass the wine, I need to release the pent-up air inside this tired body. Today was one of those days. A very busy work week, not sleeping well, forgot to take my prescriptions this morning... it all adds up to a woe is me attitude that makes me want to drown in a bottle. Food just isn't strong enough for days like these.

I wonder at what point in life I am going to love my physical self the way I am. To stop admonishing myself for my figure that carries too much poundage, or the face that aged overnight when kids and health issues became a part of my life. For hating my lack of energy, my languishing muscles or achey joints. When will I look in the mirror and think, "Wow, she looks like a nice person." or "She's rather pretty." These days I feel tired, worn out and just plain beat. Nobody seems to get that I don't have extra minutes in the morning to put on makeup, let alone an hour a day to do exercise. I always swore I would never end up being one of those tired-looking, disheveled mothers who always wore t-shirts and sweats. But here I am, exactly that.

How do mothers do it? How do you have children, work, take care of a house, have a relationship with your husband plus manage a social life and some "fun" activities (what are those?!). I cannot seem to find the balance, and I am always in the verge of tears. I hate the way I look, I hate the feeling of being overweight, I hate being unhealthy, I hate worrying about the health repercussions. I just hate it. Yet I don't change it. I try, but I don't do. I just keep trying.

Pray tell, God, Angels, anybody listening... pray tell, how do I muster what I need to make a change?

Denial Can Kill You!

Friday, July 18, 2008

Wouldn't you love to have warning before a bomb went off? Wouldn't you appreciate somebody telling you that if you did this or that, you could avoid the explosion? Forewarning is so precious. As an adoptee, I have no forewarning about my health. I have absolutely no clue what might be waiting down the pike for me. I am denied the right to know by those who think they know better. Those of you who know your genetic family, you are LUCKY, and you have no idea how lucky you are. Even my boys have to carry this burden of secrecy for they will only have me as their guidepost for what may lie in their future.

I had lunch today with a woman whose mother died at the age of 32 from a ruptured cerebral aneurysm. Somewhere in her intuition this woman wondered if there might be a genetic link and she also could have an aneurysm. She asked her doctor, and he said absolutely not, don't worry about it. She left it there. She wanted the comfort of knowing that all would be well with her, and she didn't have to worry. The scary thing is, her doctor was WRONG! She didn't believe me when I told her at first. Then I explained that my father is also a doctor. Not only a doctor, but a neurosurgeon. In his career he operated on many people with ruptured aneurysms, and he saw many of them die. He said there is a definite genetic link for cerebral and aortic aneurysms.

In the case of my aneurysm, the vascular surgeon insisted there was no genetic link. In fact, I consulted another vascular surgeon, and he concurred. My father wasn't so sure and did his own research, and he came up with the same conclusion. A splenic artery aneursym proved to have no genetic correlation to cerebral and aortic (two most common) aneurysms. But I told my dad I was still going to be checked (which I have) and I would continue to be checked every year to see if any aneurysm developed in my arteries. My dad's response? "I'm glad. That's what I would do too." So here's a doctor who can see the statistics, has been told by experts, and has real-life experience, who also believes it's better to be safe than sorry.

When I told this woman my story, she was grateful. She admitted that her intuition told her that her doctor was wrong. She said she would now be checked. I'm not sure, but I think she was relieved to know that she could find out if she had any aneurysms developing in her brain. If she does, there are many things that can be done to prevent them from rupturing, and that one exam could save her life.

Your genetic family is your pre-warning system. Take advantage of it!! Don't live in the world of unknown future that has been thrust upon me by fate. It is better to face your fears, go to the doctor, get checked!! Know that your genetic connections are a gift of life for through their experience you can see what may lie ahead on your journey. Follow those signposts and give yourself the inner peace of knowing the direction your own body is taking. Regardless if a doctor tells you it is or is not genetic. If there is a health pattern in your family, get checked for it!

Aneurysm & AVM Support is the best Web site I've found for information on aneurysms. If you're wondering if it could happen to you, this is a good place to start.

My Body Talks to Me

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Have you every had a good talk with your body? I mean a serious discussion where you really listened and it really told you what was truly going on in that bundle of biological matter? My body talks to me all the time. It's been doing so since childhood, but only recently have I learned to listen.

Somatic Psychology -- the new wave of psychological know-how. It has become more commonly understood, but still in its infancy. Out of somatic psychology has grown an amazing therapy called somatic experiencing. It's not head therapy like typical counseling. It's body therapy. Just for that shell and innerds that most people consider you. The man who created it (Dr. Levine), in my opinion, is brilliant. In my whole experience -- and trust me I've done a lot of therapy -- I have never done anything that heals the stress of the body like somatic experiencing.

Sara Pettitt, the woman who does my SE, is AMAZING at it. She has a way of assisting me in listening to my body so I get way down deep to the root of what's truly going on. One time we were in a session and my right let went numb and tingly. I couldn't figure out what was going on, but I honed in on the sensation. Suddenly a memory of childhood came forward. I had issues with weak ankles, and at only 3 or 4 years old they casted my right leg thinking this might help strengthen them. I remembered being in the cast, and suddenly "heard" my body saying that it learned that it had to remain immoblized in order to heal. When I came to the session that day I was working on a strong aversion to exercise post-aneurysm. Never in a hundred or even 1,000 hours of traditional therapy would I have come to this conclusion. I had all but forgotten the original casting.

This SE therapy is also phenomenal for assisting with eating issues. I've always believed my urges to eat were rooted in a misguided psyche. I have now learned that my urges to eat are driven by imbalanced biology (endocrine system) and overstimulated nervous system. The SE helps the second of these two dramatically. Sometimes I walk out of a session feeling like I've taken valium or had a glass of wine. The calmness is almost surreal.

I feel blessed to have a curious mind that causes me to seek out answers to the issues that challenge me. Being led to Sara was an answer to a life-long quest for healing my eating issues and resolving the multiple traumas experienced by my body. I have a new appreciation for my physical self, and I know over time I am healing a life-long pattern of stressful existence.

How Good Can You Stand It?

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

How do you not go into overwhelm when the world is passing you new things at lightening speed and you feel like you're Dorothy trying to grab something that ISN'T move as the house twirls and whirls in a tornado? I'm perplexed how to do this successfully without feeling stressed out or overly fatigue or wishing I could run and live in a cave in the mountains with me and just the cats (my hubby asked if he could come but I said he'd have to stay in the cave next door).

There are many things happening in my life, as you can read below. One of the most amazing things for me is that my business, Landau Design, is growing by leaps and bounds. Trust me, it's not without a lot of effort and perseverance. I've actually been working with a business coach since January. His name is Ralph, and he's helped me so much. I see everything so differently, and this change in perspective has assisted me in growing my business by more than double since the start of the year.

BUT, I still cannot seem to master the art of calmness in the midst of the storm. This week has been a stupendous week, with work rolling in at a fast clip. And we're only two days into it. We have projects in progress, just starting and finishing up, and all of it is a wonderful thing! Yet, I sit in the middle, sometimes grabbing my curly hair, and wonder how we will accomplish it all.

Today I learned from my coach that I should shift my expectations. I will NOT accomplish it all, and I must accept this. That is the nature of having a fast-paced business. Of course I can't be dropping balls, so I must find others to assist me in getting things done. OTHERS?! Yikes, this means I have to rely on somebody else to do it RIGHT?! Yikes again! Holy toledo, apparently one of the biggest issues for entrepreneurs is relinquishing control. Yep, I certainly fit that bill. So having others help me would assist in accomplishing the goals, but that means being okay with how they do things. I am moving that way... where's the valium?

Do you suppose for somebody who has had a lot of challenges in life, it is difficult to accept when things are going so well? Even though on the surface I seem to be accepting it all, happy about it all and truly embracing what is coming forward, but perhaps somewhere deep in that murky subconscious I rebel against this success? And that rebelling comes out in the form of worry and stress.

I remember when I was getting my degree in Spiritual Psychology from USM (University of Santa Monica), Ron Hulnick, one of the lead teachers, used to say, "How good can you stand it?" In other words, life is abundant, and that abundance can flow towards you in multitudes way beyond your wildest imagination. The only question is, can you be open to it and receive it and be in it? How good can you stand it?

I love to be busy, and I love to accomplish a lot, but I am reaching an age where peaceful times sound quite appealing. Lazily playing with the kids, or even reading a book for a couple hours, sound like cherished lost moments that are passing me by. I want it ALL, and I want to be the person who stands towards heaven with their arms flung wide and says, "Hit me with your best shot! I can stand it as good as it gets!!!"

When Do We Start Remembering?

Monday, July 14, 2008

Have you ever wondered at what point in time our memories begin to root in our brains? Generally people have vague, if any, memories before the age of 4 or 5, but does that mean we do not remember anything?

When my younger son, Jeremy, was barely 4 weeks old, I was gravely ill. In the hospital for 11 days, unable to hold him for 6 weeks after that, our early bonding time was seriously interrupted. At first I was so sick I could not even think about holding him, let alone care, but as I healed it pained me greatly to see others cuddling and caring for my boy, when I could merely sit beside him and stroke and talk to him. I longed to hug him.

And since that time, Jeremy has been much more bonded to his father than myself. He goes to daddy when he is crying, he cries for daddy when he wants something, and once in a great while he wants mommy's comfort as well. So Jeremy just turned two, do you think on some level he remembers that early separation? Does he remember that daddy took care of him more? Lately he's coming to me more than before. Is the memory fading and he now realizes that I love him very much and he can rely on me to provide the emotional and physical support he needs?

As an adopted child, I've been told by many that there is no way adoption could have affected me because I was too young to remember. My own mother, a psychologist and a Columbia PhD graduate, insists that adoption has no psychological effect on a child, unless an issue is made of the adoption as the child grows. I just think this is a bunch of bullshit!!!

They have done research that shows that infants recognize their mother's voice over another woman's voice when they are only days old. They have shown that infants respond more to music or specific sounds they heard in-utero than sounds that are new. I remember when I was pregnant with Gabriel reading about a young woman whose parents were classical musicians. The girl grew up playing the cello, the same instrument her mom played. In her early 20s she was presented with a classical piece of music that she had never seen before. She played it absolutely perfectly the first time through. Everyone was stunned. How could this be? She found out later that when her mother was pregnant with her, her mother practiced that piece over and over and over in preparation for a concert. The young woman had heard it before -- in utero.

So how can an infant be denied their experience? And if they do remember, where is that stored in their consciousness, and how is expressed?

My older son, Gabriel, was put into the hospital at only 7 days old. The idiot pediatrician we had at the time thought he MIGHT have a virus because his body temperature was too low and he wasn't gaining weight well. Turns out the body temperature was never low except in her office (need a new battery in that thermometer?!), and the weight gain issue was due to lack of breastmilk, which she never thought to check. (can you tell I still have issues around this one). My sweet boy was stuck full of needles, and IV and pumped up with 2 kinds of antibiotics and suffered greatly for 48 hours while she indulged her ego into the belief of the phantom virus. I wonder with great heartache how this effected my older son. How will he remember that great trauma? And will he remember that he was never left alone, not even for a minute? Mommy was there most of the time, and when she took a break Daddy or Grandma took over. Will he remember that we kept talking to him, comforting him, so he knew he wasn't alone?

When Gabriel was first born I had a c-section because he was breech. I couldn't hold him or go with him to the nursery, but I commanded my husband to follow him every step of the way. "Don't leave him alone," I said, "Talk to him so he knows you are there. I don't want him to be scared." Everybody thought I was kind of nuts. Why was I so worried? And then that first night I had him sleep in the nursery because I thought that's what I was "suppose" to do. I still agonize over the abandonment he must have felt. How will it effect him?

At this point you wonder why do I worry about these things. I worry because it happened to me. Separation from my birth mother, inability to bond with my adoptive mother, agonizing pains of helplessness and loss. Yes, as an INFANT, this happened to me. I remember it on the visceral level. When I delve into the feelings, I am overcome with them. This is REAL, not an imaginary episode I saw or read somewhere. My own inner infant felt all these fears of abandonment, aloneness, confusion, heartache. And so I project them onto my children because I for one do not want them to feel the same pain.

Tonight I am helping Jeremy get to sleep. I am singing him a lullaby, and suddenly I begin to cry. My mommy self feels the pain of that early separation when I was so ill. Having to give up breastfeeding and forfeiting many hours of hugs and whispers in the early weeks of his life. My heart wells up with the love I feel for him, and I am so grateful now to have these precious moments to hopefully heal any rift that may exist between us.

But then my eyes well up again. This time for myself, and my birth mother. The woman who I was told "gave me away because she didn't want me." But I know gave me away with tremendous regret, longing, indecision, heartache. She felt a hundred thousand times the little bit of grief that I feel with Jeremy. She had to separate for all eternity, as the law tells her to, and there is no hope of reclaiming and healing the broken bond.

And for a split second, I feel the magnitude of what others perceive as her sacrifice. What others say is for the good of the child, and the gift she is giving the child. But she and I know a different story. It is not a sacrifice, it is an overwhelming chasm of grief, an indisputable ravine of remorse and endless tears. Oh yes, her mind tells her it is for the good of all, but her heart cries out for a different choice, an alternate road, another outcome. Her heart screams, and she may scream along, but still she follows the path set before her.

And I know my little agonies with my children's first days are challenging. But I also know that Spirit is giving me a glimpse of my mother's pain. For all those people who told me that she didn't want me, she gave me up, she did it because she thought I would have a better life... all those people who act as if they are well-meaning... they are wrong. My birth mother loved me desperately. How do I know? Because I can feel her grief. I grew in a womb saturated with the grief of anticipated separation. She did not want that choice, and she loved me so much. Just as I love my children.

Adoption is a challenging experience for all parties. Each of us see it from a different perspective, but every participant in the triad has suffered some emotional pain. I am grateful for my life and it's experiences, and in this moment I am grateful to be adopted. The experience of separation from my biological mother gives me the attunement I need to be sensitive to my children's attachment issues. Being adopted makes me a better mom. And as an individual who focuses on the blessings, I'd say that's a darn good gift to get out of a challenging experience.

Don't Try -- Just DO!

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Have you ever thought about the word "try"? I am trying to find something, or I am trying to lose weight, or I am trying to create something. When you really think about the word "try", embedded between the letters is the implied message that you will never accomplish what you are "trying" to do. Trying is a state of attempting something, not completing something. Trying is a way of saying "Well, I'm taking steps, but I don't know if I will be able to reach my goal."

Don't try, just DO! If I say "I am doing something", then I am in the mode of following steps to accomplish what I am doing. If I say "I am trying to do something", then I give myself an out. Because of course I can try very hard and accomplish nothing, but I still get credit for trying. For example, if I say "I am trying to lose weight", then no result is expected since I have not stated an action with a result in my statement. All it means is that I have done something to lose weight, but there is no certainty of any results. But if I say "I AM losing weight", then you expect to see a result, don't you? Because with my words I guarantee you that I am doing something that has accomplishment attached to it.

And so I once again want to say that I AM losing weight. I am tired of my weight, and my doctor has promised if I don't lose weight I will end up diabetic. So it's not just about looking good (although that's what I dream about), it's also about my health. I'm tired of trying to lose weight, I just want to do it and get it done with!!

I've been making many excuses on this account. I kept saying how busy I am or how many things are going on and I don't have the energy or presence of mind to accomplish this task. But today I had a revelation -- life is NOT going to calm down. Life is NOT going to get easier. In the coming year I can already see major emotional upheavals on the horizon. Not only have we lost the cat, my friend is ill and I'm wishing I was skinny, but we have several other major "stressors" that are guaranteed to arise in then next year or so:

• Steve is coming to terms with his kidney issues and we are learning about the inevitable dialysis or transplant that will surely be here by end of 2009
• Gabriel begins kindergarten at a new school this fall
• Jeremy is in his terrible twos and getting more stubborn by the moment
• My parents are experiencing major financial upheaval as a result of the recession, and my father's heart issues seem to be rearing their ugly head
• Steve and I are working our tails off trying to grow our graphic design company so we will have adequate income to keep our family in a middle class lifestyle

And did I talk about possibly moving? Yes, we are going to try and move to the county north of Los Angeles county by next summer. We think it will be better for our family financially, but more than that, we believe by moving we can gain a community feeling which our current neighborhood does not have.

So tomorrow, once again, I embark on the voyage of the weight release train. I say release and not lose because again, the semantics of the word carries weight. When we lose something we usually want to get it back. After all, being lost implies it's something that got separated from us against our will. But when we release something, we have no intention of reclaiming it. So I release this weight which is my burden. I reclaim my health, and pray my pancreas rights itself (damaged during the aneurysm surgery and hasn't been cooperating since). And pray my doctor is correct that releasing the weight will prevent diabetes and lower my recently diagnosed high blood pressure.

I refuse to try anymore. I will only DO. Life is always going to be full of challenges, and I refuse to let that be my excuse anymore. My time has come to battle this issue once and for all and leave it hog-tied on the ground for good. I AM releasing weight. I AM regaining my health. I AM taking care of me.

Crying It Out

We are told by many specialists that crying it out is not the way to go with kids. They will end up not trusting adults, they will overexert themselves, it will cause all kinds of harm. I happen to agree with this group of experts. We've never let our kids cry it out. Work it out, not cry it out.

But I on the other hand think crying it out is very healthy for an adult. And when I mean crying it out, I mean crying about something that has no other means of release than deep-heart-wrenching sobbing. Crying so hard you cannot breath, the tears sting your cheeks and your shirt is wet from the waterfall of emotions. It feels so good, even though it is exhausting.

Last night Steve and I went to a play in the park. We were invited by a very nice couple whom I enjoy talking to. Through the course of the conversation, I became pensive and sad feeling bad about myself because I thought I spoken too much (I've been told I'm an excessive talker, so sometimes I worry about this in social situations). Steve and I ended up taking a bit of a walk. The park was by the ocean, so we went to look at the ocean waters lapping in the half-moon light. We saw a small family of racoons who walked right by -- three moms and a baby. And I talked about how I was feeling.

I'm not sure how it got there, but it came to the subject of my friend who has cancer. My friend who I love like a sister, who has a cancer that doesn't seem to know that it is unwanted despite every effort to get it to stop growing. This cancer is spreading at a rapid pace, and it has already invaded several internal organs. It started as breast cancer, so you know when it gets to the organs, it's traveled far.

My dear friend, whom I love so much, who I am so afraid of losing. And that's where I lost it. I finally lost it totally and completely, and amongst the roar of the waves, where nobody could hear, I sobbed. Steve held me and I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. I DON'T WANT TO LOSE MY FRIEND!!! I sobbed out the feelings of despair. The unfairness of the whole situation. The anger that I have to go through this, and even more the rage that she has to go through this. I cried until I coughed because my asthma kicked in a little. I cried until my throat hurt because it was hoarse. I cried it out, and it felt good!

This morning my eyes are burning. I'm sure they are puffy but I haven't even cared to check. My heart is still sad, but I do feel like a damn finally broke and a huge backlog of emotion was released. I've been holding this in for months, and I've been wanting to let it out, but with this crazy, busy life, I did not have any place to just scream. But last night, the ocean gave me the smokescreen, my husband created the space, and I finally understood the concept of crying it out. It truly is a better way to go when the emotions run so deep you can barely keep your head above their sticky waters.

Sometimes I Get Why I'm Here

Saturday, July 12, 2008

There are days that I struggle so valiantly, and I wonder why life is meant to happen at all. I wonder if it really makes a difference to put our souls through this exercise of frustration, then revelation, then a sense of truly not knowing a thing at all. Then there are days like today, and I know we have purpose in this thing called life.

I taught my first painting class today. I've assisted before in teaching classes with Rassouli, but as an assistant I always had to do things his way. But today I got to teach a class MY way. I got to come up with the concept, create the curriculum, and teach in the manner that felt most in line with myself. And I had a FABULOUS time doing it.

I taught a beautiful group of ladies the first step towards creative independence. I threw in some painting techniques as well. But mostly I lead them down a path that allowed them to experience their own creative intuition, and the smiles and tears it brought forward truly lit up my heart. I could see in their eyes and faces that each had discovered something they didn't realize was there. Like a child discovering the outdoors for the first time.

What a blessing to have a gift such as this! To have learned from a master teacher how to connect to my own creative intuition, but more than that, to have the ability to package it together in such a way that others can continue the learning process. That I can convey the information and they GET it. That they discover a peaceful stream within themselves that can heal the pain and release the anxious energy and come to a place of beautiful expression. That is does not matter if they would hang the painting on the wall or throw it in the garbage, simply that they are WILLING and ABLE to step into the universal creative energy and allow it to guide them and heal them in a moment of time.

I drove home from the class with a huge smile on my fast. What a gift to ME that I am able to teach. What a gift to ME that I want to teach. And what a HUGE gift to me that these people WANT me to teach. Two people in the class weren't sure if they would come to more, but as one woman said "I don't see how I couldn't come back."

Spirit is so blessed to have given me this wonderful opportunity to share the blessings of spirit with others. After all, that is what creativity is all about -- connecting to the source energy and allowing ourselves to revel in its healing love. I know part of my purpose in this lifetime is to uncork this energy in others, and I cannot even express how joyful it is to watch it happen. I am enthralled with my life at the moment. I have a purpose that brings ME healing. How much better can it get than that?

The cat is missing

Friday, July 11, 2008

Our kitty Misty is missing. She's been missing for over a month. One day she didn't come home, and we don't know why. I've done everything possible to find her. I've called animal control, put up signs, talked to neighbors and total strangers, even got a free ad in the Beach Reporter for 4 weeks. Steve visited the animal shelter to make sure she wasn't there (thank God he went because I would have come home with another cat...). Got a lot of phone calls but all false leads. I think somebody stole her.

I am struggling to keep the hope that she will come home. And struggling with the guilt that we let her outside. We adopted her from a no-kill shelter that requires the cat be kept indoors. We tried when we first brought her home. Our intention was to keep her in. But another one of our kitties hates being inside. He was an outdoor kitty from birth, and he pee'd all over the house in protest. I don't know how to keep one in and let others out. So reluctantly all the cats have to be indoor/outdoor because we can't afford any more new carpet.

And now I am wracked with guilt because something happened to Misty. Where is she? My intuition tells me she's okay. She's stuck in somebody's house and they won't let her out. They have seen the signs I've posted, but they don't want to give her back. This makes me angry. I know she is beautiful and sweet, but she doesn't belong in a home where the person would steal her to get her.

I'm right now printing a new series of signs. I found a Web site that gives lots of advice on how to find a lost animal. They suggest offering a reward when you post the sign. Haven't tried that yet. I'm hoping this person who has her is more greedy than possessive. Perhaps the lure of money will make them hand her over. I HOPE SO!! Gosh I miss the little girl.

I feel doubly guilty because I remember how many times in the past year I've pushed her aside because I didn't have time to pet her or play with her. How many times I said, "Not now Misty." How many times I was in a rush and could remain present because I am too damn busy. I live life at such a fast pace, and slowing down doesn't feel like an option. So my guilt is compounded because I don't think I was the best kitty mother to her. I could have paid better attention, I could have shown her more love. I didn't even realize how much I love her until she was gone. Then I felt the space in my heart that her sweet little being occupies.

Oh, Misty girl, I do hope you come home to us. I did dream you came home and you were fine. I also dreamt of Shante, who came to let me know you were still alive and well on this side of the veil. I will continue to call you home, and when you can, safely return. We love you little girl, we miss you, and God I don't want to have to tell the shelter director that we lost you. She won't be please one bit. That's where so much of my guilt comes from. I made a promise and I didn't keep it. In all honesty we should have given her back to the shelter when we realized we couldn't keep her inside. So I went back on my word.

If you went to USM, this will look familiar...

I forgive myself for judging myself as a liar.
I forgive myself for judging myself as a bad kitty mommy.
I forgive myself for judging myself as too busy.
I forgive myself for judging myself as having done something wrong.

My heart aches for this little girl, and it preoccupies a lot of this muddled mind. Every time I drive in our neighborhood I am looking in windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of her sitting on a windowsill. So many other things are happening in life right now that feel overwhelming, and a part of me wants Misty to come home because it reinforces the hope that all will be well. All will be right. All will end happily.

Can somebody please help me figure out a way to make things ALWAYS end happily?

Please pray for our little Misty. If she never comes home, please pray that those who have her love her and care for her in the wonderful manner in which she deserves. I know her journey is her own, but I pray that our paths cross again. If nothing else, I need some more estrogen in this house filled with testosterone (our other two remaining cats are male)...

What Defines Me?

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Well I've finally done it. Added a blog to my To Do list. With all the crazy antics my life seems to whirl around, why on earth would I want one more? Probably because I keep talking to myself. Over and over my brain munches away on words, pondering life, pondering the future, pondering the behavior of those that make me scrunch my eyebrows. Yes, the brain is an overflow of discussion. And I want to dump it out in a place that makes sense. If I put it on my computer it will just sit there untouched and probably fester into a virus. But if I put it out into cyberspace, there is a possibility that I will be released from it because I am sending it ELSEWHERE.

Where is the Internet? Do you suppose it is the metaphor for the universal energy we all call GOD? Hmm....

It's hard to say what defines me as a person. I spent half my life trying to be defined, and I've spent the other half of my life discovering what is uniquely me. I think what defines me most are the experiences I have had.

I was adopted as a baby. Common consensus is that this doesn't effect the baby. Well I can put bullshit all over that one. Definitely the deepest psychological mark on my psyche. But hey, when you're mom's a shrink who knows it all, you don't get to cry painful experience. This one truly does define me and how I approach people and life. Can we talk about abandonment issues? I'll save that for another time. And yes, I am interested in finding out my biological roots, but fate does not seem to play favor in that regard.

I am a creative individual. This has been my saving grace in life. I love to create. My license on my car even says so. Creative activities have been a huge coping mechanism for me. As a child I did all kinds of stitchery. I used to say I did everything with needles except drugs. I became a graphic designer after slogging through architecture school. And just a couple years ago I learned how to paint. Creativity is my oxygen, my outlet, my way of being. This one is a cornerstone of my survival and my existence. I LOVE being a creative individual.

I am a woman. Can't get away from this one (darn it!). I don't mind being female in the brain. Rather like that. But I have so many body issues. I hate having a monthly cycle that is ever-changing. Don't get me wrong, I'm not wishing to be male. Don't send me links to doctors who do sex change operations. That's not what I'm saying here. It's just a pain to be female so much of the time. In architecture school some teachers were openly prejudiced against the female students. I think it's a huge reason I didn't go into that career. Then I ironically end up in printing, which is primarily male. And along the way I did some custom software development, which was also primarily male. But I've felt I've had to prove myself as a woman, and it's annoying. I love that I'm female and I got to be the moms of my kids. I loved being pregnant and knowing that that came from my tummy. But I don't like the being-ness of the female in the world. I struggle there.

I am overweight. Yep, this one defines me bigtime. This is the one that preoccupies so much of that cranial electricity. Body image has been a tornado of emotions and struggles for me. The shame runs deep, and the support seems shallow. In our society being overweight is looked at as a form of laziness or lack of caring. In my case I have true endocrine issues, but I also have true eating issues. And together they created a lovely battle which I have been dancing with for oh, about 30 years. Joy!

I'm a mom to two beautiful boys. Gabriel is 5 and so smart and so imaginative I cannot believe I ever held the belief that boys weren't as creative as girls. He is the greatest gift of my life. His introduction into my heart taught me the true experience of unconditional love. His entry assisted me in finding a place within me that I did not know existed. Yes, my beautiful boy is such a gem.

My younger son is Jeremy. He is just two. And I doubt you will often meet such a joyful, sunny, funny little personality as our Jeremy is. He makes me laugh every day, and he spreads sunshine wherever he goes. His soul is older than any I have met, and his smile lights up even the darkest rooms. Yes, my darling Jeremy, whom I cried over when I found out he wasn't a girl, is in fact the perfect son for our household. We needed more of that tremendous joy.

I am wife to Steve. He is 10 years my senior, although I often wonder if the calendar got mixed up on that account. Steve tries so hard to be a great husband, but I think I am a truly challenging wife. I am so headstrong and independent, and he exercises his intuition so much trying to figure me out. The problem is, as a creative individual, I am always changing my mind. Lovely, sweet Steve. I'm not what you were expecting. But I am uniquely me! I am grateful that you care enough to keep trying. I love you for that.

I almost died once. Oh, and above and beyond all that has happened in life, I'm certain a defining moment is the whole "ruptured aneurysm" story. That's what it is, you know, just a story. But it's a story I'm oddly proud of because it proved to be a defining experience on all levels of consciousness. Not only the physical, which was excruciating and took months to recover from, but on the spiritual, mental and emotional. I do know it was my exit point. My choice before incarnation to exit stage left. But I made it a choice point instead of an exit point, and because of my God-sent amazing angelic boys, I chose to live. I CHOSE to live. The doctors were surprised. My father was surprised (he's a doctor too). I was even surprised. But I remember when I awoke from the emergency surgery, my first thought was "Oh, I decided to live." The I in that sentence being the big I, or big S "Self" -- i.e. my SOUL. My living, conscious, etheral, G0d-connected soul, took an unexpected turn in this planned life. Many things changed that day. Many things...

What are the lessons I am here to learn? What is the purpose of this pain? Why do I write? What do I expect in return? Probably a beep from a distant computer. After all, the chatter may have calmed in the mind, but here I am talking to a computer. But computers are my friends. They have distracted me hours on end when internal emotions were too raw to process. computers have provided me the support and sustenance when my family of origin drove me to the brink, and therapists were screwing up my thinking and I felt so jumbled and confused inside I would literally spend about 7 hours a night watching TV in an effort to numb out. Computers gained me a successful career. Made me shine when I wanted to turn out my own light. Helped me keep my brain alive when it wanted to fizzle. I guess it seems appropriate that I would be talking to a computer. Truly, computers have shaped and saved my life. They are one relationship that without a doubt has truly defined me...