I love gardening. This season, I discovered that my artichoke plant was finally producing some beautiful thistles for my dining pleasure. I had a total of 4 awesome chokes in all. Well, I went on a road trip last week, having forgotten that I had a couple waiting for me. This was perfect timing. I had next to nothing in the fridge. I always like to have something green, and this qualify, even if they are not technically a vegetable.
Two nights ago, I steamed one, and decided to peel off the leaves beforehand. I usually just peel as I go, but I wanted to enjoy it without having to scoop out the heart. It was ready to eat. Yum. Sometimes I like to eat two at a time. This gives me more meat. I will tend to eat fast and furious, as if my life depended on it. I have been working on that. But still, I scarf my food down.
So…Even though I had pre-peeled, I hadn't noticed that some earwigs had decided to make this artichoke their home. I had boiled them along with my meal. One of the leaves I had eaten had one stuck to it. Ewww! Thankfully, it had been the leaf on the bottom of my stack, so I had not really eaten an earwig, but I was close.
Here's the deal. I am a lover of all living things. Correction: most living things. No matter how hard I try, I just cannot like the earwig. My last home was in a studio where it tended to get a little moist. I had a very large earwig infestation once that totally grossed me out. They were right outside my front door, and making their way inside. There were literally hundreds of them swarming at my doorstep. Those pincers creep me out, and the scales are reminiscent of cockroaches.
I am one of those people who carry a Daddy Long Legs out, gently laying them down on the porch. That is not the case with earwigs. I will step on them, flush them, whatever it takes to get them as far away from me as humanly possible.
Apparently, this time, I cooked them up as a delicacy.
Knowing my feelings about earwigs, I decided to try not to make too big of a deal out of this. I carefully inspected each artichoke leaf, remembering that the crunch I tasted was in fact the garlic in my butter and not a bug. This was challenging, but I got through it. The fact that the artichoke was absolutely delicious really helped.
Last night, I thoroughly rinsed my choke, peeled beforehand, AND looked at the leaves before devouring my feast. Luckily, there were no earwigs present in this one. Whew.
I survived a near earwig consumption, and did not have nightmares. There is a God.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
Summer Break
At the beginning of each summer break, I often feel a little out of control. School is officially over, so I know I have no plans, at least for a couple of weeks. I end up ditching my routine almost entirely and tend to stay up til the wee hours, complaining later about how I feel horrible being tired. So here I am at 10:35pm, at a crossroads. I could continue on the same self destructive path, known in some circles as a state of SLOTH. Or, I could change my behavior. Hmm.
Here's the rub: I am trying to loosen up a little. I am so attached to a certain routine, particular foods, etc, that I feel like I ought to shake things up a bit. But instead, I turn to meaningless internet activities when I have free time. I isolate in my kitchen, googling things like Pastor Britt (on You Tube), who I used to know as plain ole Britt, or Burt. I went to high school with him, and the last time I saw him in person, he was walking across our stage at graduation yelling "Burt don't surf!". Now he gives sermons at Reality Church in Carpinteria that are reminiscent of Baptist fire and brimstone with some sales pitch mixed in.
Anyway...the point is that all of this free time drives me crazy. I am stuck between overplanning and becoming one of those people who play guitar hero for 5 hours straight (just making that up, as a good example of what I am doing).
My road trip is another fine example of trying to mix things up, Michelle style. I took nearly every item of clothing I own (and wore only 2-3 outfits), all my regular foods in a cooler, and my favorite utensils and dishes. I loaded my car to the brim, including a guitar I never played, and a beach chair I never sat in. I drove 7-9 hours a day (!) to the weirdest places. Some were quite breathtaking, others were downright nasty. I visited my friend Rozanna and her family. That was ok. But other than that, what was my motive for taking a trip anyway? Well, I had time to kill and money burning a hole in my checking account. Why not stay in a motel near a meth smoker who yelled at his girlfriend about peeing in the bed, among other things. BTW, I smelled meth in the bathroom after my shower, and still smelled it on my nightie the next night. I was so grossed out! Other than the obvious entertainment factor for writing an interesting book, why did I endure such ridiculousness?
Well, because I needed something to do.*sigh*
Here's my solution: I will sign up for a class of interest, like meditation, yoga, or hiking. I will plan on attending said activity once a week. I will go to more meetings, and do more writing. I also need a part time job, so that ought to keep me sorta busy. And...I could call my friends more often. Lunch dates at Daily Grind would be very pleasant. Butterfly Beach is awesome, as always. My bald friend returns from New York soon. Hmm. I should discuss the bald one in another blog. Yes, I could write about him all day long, and into the night. Ha ha.
See, I have plenty to do. Wish me luck with that. I am gonna need it.
Here's the rub: I am trying to loosen up a little. I am so attached to a certain routine, particular foods, etc, that I feel like I ought to shake things up a bit. But instead, I turn to meaningless internet activities when I have free time. I isolate in my kitchen, googling things like Pastor Britt (on You Tube), who I used to know as plain ole Britt, or Burt. I went to high school with him, and the last time I saw him in person, he was walking across our stage at graduation yelling "Burt don't surf!". Now he gives sermons at Reality Church in Carpinteria that are reminiscent of Baptist fire and brimstone with some sales pitch mixed in.
Anyway...the point is that all of this free time drives me crazy. I am stuck between overplanning and becoming one of those people who play guitar hero for 5 hours straight (just making that up, as a good example of what I am doing).
My road trip is another fine example of trying to mix things up, Michelle style. I took nearly every item of clothing I own (and wore only 2-3 outfits), all my regular foods in a cooler, and my favorite utensils and dishes. I loaded my car to the brim, including a guitar I never played, and a beach chair I never sat in. I drove 7-9 hours a day (!) to the weirdest places. Some were quite breathtaking, others were downright nasty. I visited my friend Rozanna and her family. That was ok. But other than that, what was my motive for taking a trip anyway? Well, I had time to kill and money burning a hole in my checking account. Why not stay in a motel near a meth smoker who yelled at his girlfriend about peeing in the bed, among other things. BTW, I smelled meth in the bathroom after my shower, and still smelled it on my nightie the next night. I was so grossed out! Other than the obvious entertainment factor for writing an interesting book, why did I endure such ridiculousness?
Well, because I needed something to do.*sigh*
Here's my solution: I will sign up for a class of interest, like meditation, yoga, or hiking. I will plan on attending said activity once a week. I will go to more meetings, and do more writing. I also need a part time job, so that ought to keep me sorta busy. And...I could call my friends more often. Lunch dates at Daily Grind would be very pleasant. Butterfly Beach is awesome, as always. My bald friend returns from New York soon. Hmm. I should discuss the bald one in another blog. Yes, I could write about him all day long, and into the night. Ha ha.
See, I have plenty to do. Wish me luck with that. I am gonna need it.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Going to Any Lengths With Macrame and christianity with a little c
Sunday, May 11, 2008
I had a lovely Mother's Day dinner at the folks' house tonight. We talked for an hour or so about various topics, beginning with my sneaking out as a teen and ending with christian with a little "c".
So here's the story. I only snuck out of my bedroom window once. After that, my dad simply screwed it in place so I could not even open the window. I was probably around 15 years old at the time, just starting to get a little crazy, but not so bad that I got arrested or injured...yet. That was not until I became a legal adult. Anyway, it astounds me that I didn't just take out the screw. Maybe I was scared of getting busted for taking it out, or worried I wouldn't be able to replace it? It also surprises me that I didn't use the front door. That is all I remember doing, although the memory of the window came back upon reflection.
My mom asked me tonight if I remembered the bells on the front door. I was drawing a total blank. She told me that they nailed an old macrame wall hanging above the door (I remember it as a plant holder actually) so the bells attached to it would sound if I snuck out. I think this is hilarious, imagining some ugly macrame whatever thing over the door to deter their wayward teen from sneaking out. Instead of confrontation, they used tactics that would (conceivably) prevent me from leaving. Tonight, I referred to this as "natural consequences". They usually had no problem with confronting me about this kind of stuff, as I recall. But perhaps what I remember is young adulthood, when I bounced in and out of living there and just came and went through the front door. The bells were gone by then for sure.
The other challenge I had was when my mom would be awake, watching TV, after getting a call from a patient. She often would have trouble getting back to sleep, and was up at all hours at times, in the living room near the front door. In my 20s, I would do the walk of shame, reeking of booze at 3-4am, disappointed that I couldn't make food. When I could make something to nibble on, it was a full course meal of cheap elbow macaroni and tomato paste, seasoned with lots of spices.
My mom asked me where I went when I snuck out. As an adult, I told her a few likely places without hesitation. We usually went down to a place in Carpinteria (CA) called the Square, above the beach. Sometimes we went to State Park, and other times down to Shit Creek, as we so lovingly called the creek near our shores. Carpas, or Carp (Carpinteria for short) is a small town, so everyone knows everyone and everything you're doing. My parents didn't know the details, but I am sure they could have guessed that there was drinking involved. I am not sure if the vomiting and confusion set in until age 17, but there was definitely beer and boys. Actually, I was hanging with men in their late 20s, early 30s. Not such a good scene, in fact.
As I ought to get into my cozy bed soon, I will tell you about the christian with a little "c" part of this story. My mom was brought up Jewish, and does not practice any formal religion. Although we celebrate Passover and Hannukah, we are not orthodox and have never been to temple. My dad has a Christian upbringing, his parents following the King James Version of the Bible. I went to Protestant church as a wee child, but do not currently attend any congregation. My mom has claimed over the years to be an atheist. One time she did qualify as spiritual, however. I totally understand this. Anyway, we were discussing religion and all its aspects, all the way from Religious Serpent Handling in the Pentacostal churches of West Virginia, to ancient history, to Catholicism vs. all other Christian sects. Specifically, my mom was referring to those in the Catholic Church suffering through this life, with the belief that the after life will be better, and the others' belief in being good in this life.
I believe in the power of being completely in the present moment. The Universe, power greater than ourselves, or what some call God, takes care of the rest. I believe in consequences for our behavior, that either will serve us or will not. I want to remember daily that all beings want to be free from suffering and want happiness, that compassion for others is paramount.
That being said, my mom's closing thoughts on the subject were, "I believe in being christian with a little c. You know, living by the Ten Commandments." She was saying that a good life did involve some rules, but that all we need to worry about is being kind to one another. Nice. I like that kind of simplicity.
I had a lovely Mother's Day dinner at the folks' house tonight. We talked for an hour or so about various topics, beginning with my sneaking out as a teen and ending with christian with a little "c".
So here's the story. I only snuck out of my bedroom window once. After that, my dad simply screwed it in place so I could not even open the window. I was probably around 15 years old at the time, just starting to get a little crazy, but not so bad that I got arrested or injured...yet. That was not until I became a legal adult. Anyway, it astounds me that I didn't just take out the screw. Maybe I was scared of getting busted for taking it out, or worried I wouldn't be able to replace it? It also surprises me that I didn't use the front door. That is all I remember doing, although the memory of the window came back upon reflection.
My mom asked me tonight if I remembered the bells on the front door. I was drawing a total blank. She told me that they nailed an old macrame wall hanging above the door (I remember it as a plant holder actually) so the bells attached to it would sound if I snuck out. I think this is hilarious, imagining some ugly macrame whatever thing over the door to deter their wayward teen from sneaking out. Instead of confrontation, they used tactics that would (conceivably) prevent me from leaving. Tonight, I referred to this as "natural consequences". They usually had no problem with confronting me about this kind of stuff, as I recall. But perhaps what I remember is young adulthood, when I bounced in and out of living there and just came and went through the front door. The bells were gone by then for sure.
The other challenge I had was when my mom would be awake, watching TV, after getting a call from a patient. She often would have trouble getting back to sleep, and was up at all hours at times, in the living room near the front door. In my 20s, I would do the walk of shame, reeking of booze at 3-4am, disappointed that I couldn't make food. When I could make something to nibble on, it was a full course meal of cheap elbow macaroni and tomato paste, seasoned with lots of spices.
My mom asked me where I went when I snuck out. As an adult, I told her a few likely places without hesitation. We usually went down to a place in Carpinteria (CA) called the Square, above the beach. Sometimes we went to State Park, and other times down to Shit Creek, as we so lovingly called the creek near our shores. Carpas, or Carp (Carpinteria for short) is a small town, so everyone knows everyone and everything you're doing. My parents didn't know the details, but I am sure they could have guessed that there was drinking involved. I am not sure if the vomiting and confusion set in until age 17, but there was definitely beer and boys. Actually, I was hanging with men in their late 20s, early 30s. Not such a good scene, in fact.
As I ought to get into my cozy bed soon, I will tell you about the christian with a little "c" part of this story. My mom was brought up Jewish, and does not practice any formal religion. Although we celebrate Passover and Hannukah, we are not orthodox and have never been to temple. My dad has a Christian upbringing, his parents following the King James Version of the Bible. I went to Protestant church as a wee child, but do not currently attend any congregation. My mom has claimed over the years to be an atheist. One time she did qualify as spiritual, however. I totally understand this. Anyway, we were discussing religion and all its aspects, all the way from Religious Serpent Handling in the Pentacostal churches of West Virginia, to ancient history, to Catholicism vs. all other Christian sects. Specifically, my mom was referring to those in the Catholic Church suffering through this life, with the belief that the after life will be better, and the others' belief in being good in this life.
I believe in the power of being completely in the present moment. The Universe, power greater than ourselves, or what some call God, takes care of the rest. I believe in consequences for our behavior, that either will serve us or will not. I want to remember daily that all beings want to be free from suffering and want happiness, that compassion for others is paramount.
That being said, my mom's closing thoughts on the subject were, "I believe in being christian with a little c. You know, living by the Ten Commandments." She was saying that a good life did involve some rules, but that all we need to worry about is being kind to one another. Nice. I like that kind of simplicity.
Flying Squirrels Are Legal in Texas
Saturday, May 10, 2008
When asked if he has any pets, my checker Ron at Trader Joe's told me he has 2 flying squirrels. They are sisters. He said that they are illegal here (I will not reveal too many personal details about you, Ron), but are of course legal in Texas.
I wonder what qualifies them to be ok there and not here. Do they have more room to fly in Texas? Actually, they don't really fly. They just jump really far. He told me of someone who trained their flying squirrels to fly up and down stairs.
Ferrets are illegal here, too, but I know so many people who have them as pets. They are so cute! I heard that we are allowed to breed them here in California, but not have them. So, as long as we make money off of them, they are ok, huh? That sucks.
My kitty cats would have a field day with these little gals.
Flying squirrels. The ultimate cat toy.
I've gotta go to bed. I probably had you at pet flying squirrels.
When asked if he has any pets, my checker Ron at Trader Joe's told me he has 2 flying squirrels. They are sisters. He said that they are illegal here (I will not reveal too many personal details about you, Ron), but are of course legal in Texas.
I wonder what qualifies them to be ok there and not here. Do they have more room to fly in Texas? Actually, they don't really fly. They just jump really far. He told me of someone who trained their flying squirrels to fly up and down stairs.
Ferrets are illegal here, too, but I know so many people who have them as pets. They are so cute! I heard that we are allowed to breed them here in California, but not have them. So, as long as we make money off of them, they are ok, huh? That sucks.
My kitty cats would have a field day with these little gals.
Flying squirrels. The ultimate cat toy.
I've gotta go to bed. I probably had you at pet flying squirrels.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Flirt While U Shop
Spring has sprung people! I am feeling warm all over, and I am ready to do something about it. Hee hee. Forgive me, I don't hold back much.
Seriously, I feel as though my vibe is stronger than ever. I am a magnet. The only thing missing is some follow through. Such is the story of my dating history. That is about to change. I'll make sure of it.
Do you ever notice how the warm weather can make people act kinda funny? Take today, for instance. I was driving home from my regular meeting and hit a stop light. A fire truck had just been there to check on someone, and they were driving in front of me. They were gorgeous, as is the requirement for being a firefighter, I guess. At least from my subjective opinion, they are all attractive in some way. Anyway, I waved to them as they turned right. For some strange reason, I thought I saw a green light. I drove through the intersection, noticing all the cross traffic coming toward me. I honked, and so did they. It took me a second to realize I was running a red light. Whoa.
Later, at Butterfly Beach, I was driving toward a good parking spot. It was late in the day, around 4:30. I did this on purpose so as to avoid heavy traffic everywhere. I saw someone packing up to leave on the other side. I made a U-turn near the end of the drive, but not quite. Suddenly, I saw a cop car facing me, stopped. I rolled down my window. I realized I had just driven across a double yellow line.
I apologized profusely, telling him I completely forgot. I was totally being honest. I do it frequently without thinking about it. I was driving about 2 miles an hour, so I did not expect to get the reaction he shot out at me. This cop was really pissed off. He barked at me, "It's not a question of forgetting. Do you realize if I gave you a citation right now, it would be over $300? And for what?" He even hurumphed. I said I was really sorry again, about to tell him I would never do it again. He let me go. I have never experienced such an aggressive response to such a minor infraction. I was not in a hurry, and would have gone all the way around, had I remembered what the hell I was doing. But it was like 95 degrees and humid. He was obviously not thrilled with his patrol route either.
I swear the heat definitely went to my head today. I have been really inattentive in the worst way. This whole weekend has been kinda nutty anyway. Lust is in the air, and I am not alone in feeling it. I find it especially interesting to go grocery shopping lately. What fun. Odds are definitely in my favor, as far as getting a date anytime in this century. In fact, I might even be busy as soon as the next few weeks. Who knows? It's been awhile, so I am unaccustomed to being treated to a meal, walk down State Street, a hike, or maybe even a sunset beach stroll. There are some ideas for any of you who would like to take me out. I told you, I am ready.
Seriously, I feel as though my vibe is stronger than ever. I am a magnet. The only thing missing is some follow through. Such is the story of my dating history. That is about to change. I'll make sure of it.
Do you ever notice how the warm weather can make people act kinda funny? Take today, for instance. I was driving home from my regular meeting and hit a stop light. A fire truck had just been there to check on someone, and they were driving in front of me. They were gorgeous, as is the requirement for being a firefighter, I guess. At least from my subjective opinion, they are all attractive in some way. Anyway, I waved to them as they turned right. For some strange reason, I thought I saw a green light. I drove through the intersection, noticing all the cross traffic coming toward me. I honked, and so did they. It took me a second to realize I was running a red light. Whoa.
Later, at Butterfly Beach, I was driving toward a good parking spot. It was late in the day, around 4:30. I did this on purpose so as to avoid heavy traffic everywhere. I saw someone packing up to leave on the other side. I made a U-turn near the end of the drive, but not quite. Suddenly, I saw a cop car facing me, stopped. I rolled down my window. I realized I had just driven across a double yellow line.
I apologized profusely, telling him I completely forgot. I was totally being honest. I do it frequently without thinking about it. I was driving about 2 miles an hour, so I did not expect to get the reaction he shot out at me. This cop was really pissed off. He barked at me, "It's not a question of forgetting. Do you realize if I gave you a citation right now, it would be over $300? And for what?" He even hurumphed. I said I was really sorry again, about to tell him I would never do it again. He let me go. I have never experienced such an aggressive response to such a minor infraction. I was not in a hurry, and would have gone all the way around, had I remembered what the hell I was doing. But it was like 95 degrees and humid. He was obviously not thrilled with his patrol route either.
I swear the heat definitely went to my head today. I have been really inattentive in the worst way. This whole weekend has been kinda nutty anyway. Lust is in the air, and I am not alone in feeling it. I find it especially interesting to go grocery shopping lately. What fun. Odds are definitely in my favor, as far as getting a date anytime in this century. In fact, I might even be busy as soon as the next few weeks. Who knows? It's been awhile, so I am unaccustomed to being treated to a meal, walk down State Street, a hike, or maybe even a sunset beach stroll. There are some ideas for any of you who would like to take me out. I told you, I am ready.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
The Sound of Silence
Last Wednesday, I participated in the Day Of Silence, which honors those being silenced by harrassment and violence every day in the GLBT community. Lawrence King, a 15 year old Oxnard boy, was one of these people. He was shot by a classmate for being homosexual and gender expression. If you would like to know more about this, please visit this website: http://dayofsilence.org/
I am rarely silent. I have plenty to share, and talk all the time. I always have something to say. Being completely silent (save a few accidental peeps) for about 5 hours was a spiritual experience for me. I plan on being silent once a week now, for a full day or at least a partial day. I found myself able to pick up on the chatter in the classroom, as well as the lectures. I was really listening. Often, when we have a burning desire to share something, our ears turn off. I found relief in not responding. There were times I would write in a notebook, out of necessity (group work) or to clear confusion about what I was communicating. Other times, I just wrote because I felt like talking. I feel like that was the most difficult part of the experience, because I had to make such an effort.
There are times when saying nothing is better than any words spoken aloud or even written down. I did notice that when I wrote an in class essay on "Love", I could express myself well, as though my thoughts were clearer when freed from the clutter of words spoken.
As I left campus for the day, I entered the freeway to begin my commute back home to Santa Barbara. I attempted to merge, as I noticed a woman driving too fast to let me in swiftly approaching. I had to veer to the right, almost off the road, to avoid her crashing into me. So, the first words out of my mouth were, "Oh my God, what the f*ck are you doing?!"
Once I recovered from the panicky feeling of the potential disaster, I had to laugh. However, I was disappointed that negativity poured out of my voice, after 5 hours of peaceful nonresistant silent time, so I remained silent for another 30 minutes of the drive. This included being mute to Jack Johnson and Ben Harper singing "With My Own Two Hands", but could not hold out for the entire song. It is just too beautiful not to sing along to.
What I thought would have been a challenge became a wonderful learning experience and quite calming. Who would have thought this chatterbox would actually welcome keeping quiet. But I did, and I will again. You may see more blogs from me on those days. I still have lots to share.
*Weekly Challenge*
I encourage any of you to be silent for at least one hour. Find a time when you know you will be uninterupted, and have no prior commitments involving kids or work, etc. Be around people talking. Share how it feels. If you have had a silent retreat before, please share your experiences. Thanks!
Enjoy the weekend all.
I am rarely silent. I have plenty to share, and talk all the time. I always have something to say. Being completely silent (save a few accidental peeps) for about 5 hours was a spiritual experience for me. I plan on being silent once a week now, for a full day or at least a partial day. I found myself able to pick up on the chatter in the classroom, as well as the lectures. I was really listening. Often, when we have a burning desire to share something, our ears turn off. I found relief in not responding. There were times I would write in a notebook, out of necessity (group work) or to clear confusion about what I was communicating. Other times, I just wrote because I felt like talking. I feel like that was the most difficult part of the experience, because I had to make such an effort.
There are times when saying nothing is better than any words spoken aloud or even written down. I did notice that when I wrote an in class essay on "Love", I could express myself well, as though my thoughts were clearer when freed from the clutter of words spoken.
As I left campus for the day, I entered the freeway to begin my commute back home to Santa Barbara. I attempted to merge, as I noticed a woman driving too fast to let me in swiftly approaching. I had to veer to the right, almost off the road, to avoid her crashing into me. So, the first words out of my mouth were, "Oh my God, what the f*ck are you doing?!"
Once I recovered from the panicky feeling of the potential disaster, I had to laugh. However, I was disappointed that negativity poured out of my voice, after 5 hours of peaceful nonresistant silent time, so I remained silent for another 30 minutes of the drive. This included being mute to Jack Johnson and Ben Harper singing "With My Own Two Hands", but could not hold out for the entire song. It is just too beautiful not to sing along to.
What I thought would have been a challenge became a wonderful learning experience and quite calming. Who would have thought this chatterbox would actually welcome keeping quiet. But I did, and I will again. You may see more blogs from me on those days. I still have lots to share.
*Weekly Challenge*
I encourage any of you to be silent for at least one hour. Find a time when you know you will be uninterupted, and have no prior commitments involving kids or work, etc. Be around people talking. Share how it feels. If you have had a silent retreat before, please share your experiences. Thanks!
Enjoy the weekend all.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Reality Bites...Or Does It Simply Blow Kisses?
First things first. I am feeling so in the moment, completely present right now. Such was the case earlier at Trader Joe's. This very angry man I've seen yelling around my neighborhood walked across the driveway, as I was chatting with Mark the petition guy. As a driver waited to leave the lot, the man exclaimed, "Get your f*ckin car off the sidewalk, you bitch!" and he kicked the bumper. He felt offended by this person being in his way.
I really feel for this man. He is completely miserable. He carries multiple bags and appears homeless. His energy is as heavy as the duffle bag he carries. His anger can literally be heard all throughout the town. This is probably not the first time he has caused a scene.
I am a very friendly person. I tend to say hello to everyone I see. Seriously, I leave no one out. I also am aware that people who behave as this man does usually do not get friendly greetings. I held back today, just turning to send him some positive energy. I felt such discomfort left in his wake, and realized that saying "Hi" would not help. Brian, my favorite cashier (BTW he is such a cutie), came out to witness the event. He is from Iowa. I wonder if this is foreign to him, seeing such an upheaval. Anyway, the man is very upset because he is unable to live in the present moment. What he is experiencing is an inability to accept life as it is. This is probably one of the more extreme instances I've witnessed. I believe it is a moment I needed to pay attention to.
This man is not alone. There are so many people on our planet expressing their pain this way. They could all use some good energy. Imagine a world where we all cared for one another, regardless of circumstance. Imagine letting go of all of that anger. Wow. What a relief.
This man illustrated for me what it is like when I am in a state of nonacceptance, wanting to control the uncontrollable. Another issue is one of action. In his case, his choices included waiting, moving around, or walking slowly until s/he drove away. When I accept what IS, all of this is really simple. I don't even have to make an effort to take action or surrender.
Now, if I apply this to a relationship with someone I have had conflict with, it feels more complicated somehow. But is it? Notice I said that I have had conflict with him. I am not currently experiencing any conflict with this person. He is not even in my present space. Oh how I want to make the past and future into the present! I totally relate to the angry man on the street today.
I have been thinking way too hard about past behavior of a particular someone. I judge our current situation with our past. To put this in more understandable language to those of you who have no idea what I am getting at...I was seeing this guy for a couple of years, after 3 months of dating and a break up. Every time we saw each other, we would get intimate. He does not want to date me. I don't want to just sleep with him. We stood at a crossroads. We always do this. We are repeat offenders, continuing the same insanity until we learn something.
Let me say right now that I have flip flopped this around in my head for a few years. I used to engage in behavior with him that did not serve either of us. I no longer do this. I will put space between us. I get angry at him, in his absence (part of the process). He appears in my space, either by supposedly "random" chance (there are no accidents), or on purpose by calling. I get more angry at him for being in my space. Eventually, I come to my own crossroads. I could go yell at him to stop bothering me, tell him he hurt me, blah blah blah. Or...I could forgive him. Whenever I've forgiven before, I get the urge to call him. Inevitably, I feel like kissing him (old behavior). All of this scares me. Fortunately, it's all in my head.
Well, today I realized that I can forgive him and still have boundaries. Every time I let go of expectation of any kind, he and I get along and there is no pain. I am not blind nor stupid. Neither is he. We both know that the way we have been approaching this has not worked. We have both pushed against that, and tried anyway, to no avail. It's time to stop screwing around and show some true love to one another. I have no control over what he does, but I am sick and tired of being angry. I am grateful for a lesson learned. What a blessing. I am ready to love him for who he is, as is. Without fear of attachment issues, without obsession. Just pure love. Unconditionally, just like I love my cats. :)
All we need is love y'all. That is all.
I really feel for this man. He is completely miserable. He carries multiple bags and appears homeless. His energy is as heavy as the duffle bag he carries. His anger can literally be heard all throughout the town. This is probably not the first time he has caused a scene.
I am a very friendly person. I tend to say hello to everyone I see. Seriously, I leave no one out. I also am aware that people who behave as this man does usually do not get friendly greetings. I held back today, just turning to send him some positive energy. I felt such discomfort left in his wake, and realized that saying "Hi" would not help. Brian, my favorite cashier (BTW he is such a cutie), came out to witness the event. He is from Iowa. I wonder if this is foreign to him, seeing such an upheaval. Anyway, the man is very upset because he is unable to live in the present moment. What he is experiencing is an inability to accept life as it is. This is probably one of the more extreme instances I've witnessed. I believe it is a moment I needed to pay attention to.
This man is not alone. There are so many people on our planet expressing their pain this way. They could all use some good energy. Imagine a world where we all cared for one another, regardless of circumstance. Imagine letting go of all of that anger. Wow. What a relief.
This man illustrated for me what it is like when I am in a state of nonacceptance, wanting to control the uncontrollable. Another issue is one of action. In his case, his choices included waiting, moving around, or walking slowly until s/he drove away. When I accept what IS, all of this is really simple. I don't even have to make an effort to take action or surrender.
Now, if I apply this to a relationship with someone I have had conflict with, it feels more complicated somehow. But is it? Notice I said that I have had conflict with him. I am not currently experiencing any conflict with this person. He is not even in my present space. Oh how I want to make the past and future into the present! I totally relate to the angry man on the street today.
I have been thinking way too hard about past behavior of a particular someone. I judge our current situation with our past. To put this in more understandable language to those of you who have no idea what I am getting at...I was seeing this guy for a couple of years, after 3 months of dating and a break up. Every time we saw each other, we would get intimate. He does not want to date me. I don't want to just sleep with him. We stood at a crossroads. We always do this. We are repeat offenders, continuing the same insanity until we learn something.
Let me say right now that I have flip flopped this around in my head for a few years. I used to engage in behavior with him that did not serve either of us. I no longer do this. I will put space between us. I get angry at him, in his absence (part of the process). He appears in my space, either by supposedly "random" chance (there are no accidents), or on purpose by calling. I get more angry at him for being in my space. Eventually, I come to my own crossroads. I could go yell at him to stop bothering me, tell him he hurt me, blah blah blah. Or...I could forgive him. Whenever I've forgiven before, I get the urge to call him. Inevitably, I feel like kissing him (old behavior). All of this scares me. Fortunately, it's all in my head.
Well, today I realized that I can forgive him and still have boundaries. Every time I let go of expectation of any kind, he and I get along and there is no pain. I am not blind nor stupid. Neither is he. We both know that the way we have been approaching this has not worked. We have both pushed against that, and tried anyway, to no avail. It's time to stop screwing around and show some true love to one another. I have no control over what he does, but I am sick and tired of being angry. I am grateful for a lesson learned. What a blessing. I am ready to love him for who he is, as is. Without fear of attachment issues, without obsession. Just pure love. Unconditionally, just like I love my cats. :)
All we need is love y'all. That is all.
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