...not to do this too often but it's a rainy day here and feeling a bit melancholy, I've been leafing through some of my favorite books reading my dogeared pages. Again, the saving grace in all of this is you only have read as much as you care to--everyone is safe here.
This is from The a little talked about book, "The Witch of Portobello," by Paulo Coelho.
"Re-programme yourself every minute of each day with thoughts that make you grow. When you're feeling irritated or confused, try to laugh at yourself. Laugh out loud at this woman tormented by doubts and anxieties, convinced that her problems are the most important thing in the world. Laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation, at the fact that despite being a manifestation of the Mother, you still believe God is a man who lays down the rules. Most of our problems stem from just that--from following the rules."
I loved this book for so many reasons and the excerpt above doesn't begin give away it's content.
Friday, November 14, 2008
.later on...
I laugh reading my 'introduction blog.' How I was so curious as to what would happen sending my thoughts out into cyberspace..well, three months have taught me, well, actually-nothing happens. But I'm back and thinking of where my head was just three short months ago, so much has changed. For one, last month my beloved dog Wyatt was diagnosed with a very agressive form of cancer. It is hard to write in words of how devastating of a blow it was to hear such a diagnosis and much worse, the prognosis. I heard the words, I tried to process the information but all I could come up with was how much I wished to be an amnesiac, because once you're there, you can't go back. It changes everything.
One--probably the only one--beautiful thing that came from all of this is that I realized how much of Wyatt's life has been just a pure celebration of life itself--the simple things--taking longs walks, swimming, socializing with strangers, snuggling, enjoying his favorite foods (actually all food)--always experiencing life as if it was for the first time. Being able to see life through his eyes has been pure joy--I've always said if everyone could see life through Wyatt's eyes, what a wonderful world it would be. He literally, skips through life, smiling, nose up to the wind.
I guess that's all I have to say, for now. This past month has been a sea of emotions. I don't know how to say good-bye, before time is due. How can this funny, loving, happy spirit leave this Earth? I have moments of pure desperation, clinging, begging for more time. Please, please not him. But on the same note I plead that he not suffer. For all the love and goodness in him, allow him just one day to fall into an eternal sleep, quietly, with dignity.
One--probably the only one--beautiful thing that came from all of this is that I realized how much of Wyatt's life has been just a pure celebration of life itself--the simple things--taking longs walks, swimming, socializing with strangers, snuggling, enjoying his favorite foods (actually all food)--always experiencing life as if it was for the first time. Being able to see life through his eyes has been pure joy--I've always said if everyone could see life through Wyatt's eyes, what a wonderful world it would be. He literally, skips through life, smiling, nose up to the wind.
I guess that's all I have to say, for now. This past month has been a sea of emotions. I don't know how to say good-bye, before time is due. How can this funny, loving, happy spirit leave this Earth? I have moments of pure desperation, clinging, begging for more time. Please, please not him. But on the same note I plead that he not suffer. For all the love and goodness in him, allow him just one day to fall into an eternal sleep, quietly, with dignity.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
An introduction
There are moments in our lives that clearly define our path, our purpose--moments that define and explain to some small measure who we are in this world. (on a side note this moment--starting this blog, trying to get a single thought down is agonizing for me, pure agony. Quite honestly, I'd have an easier time navigating a horrible case of the runs or a trip to the dentist, than be sitting here right now. I suffer from terminal writers block, fearful of every word.
I have a finger that hovers over the delete key and my mind races and my body aches for a nap, napping my greatest escape, my heaven and hell. Napping has been made better still by the creation of xanax--ahh..that sweet escape. But giving in to the temptation adds to the pile up of the hundred of other days I've started and stopped before I ever got going. But, if I can work through this--get it down despite all the fear and self loathing, I might actually feel that I can do anything. Moving THROUGH fear, now there's a concept! So with that said, I can say that I've lived long enough to know that there is a beautiful reward at the end of all of this. Whether it be a sense of accomplishment, conquering fear, sharing--the many layers of this 'experiment' have yet to be discovered. I'm here, right now, this moment and for this moment that is all that matters. My fingers are typing away and I'm not proof reading or self editing every 10 seconds... Whoops! Okay I made it 10 seconds.. So we're 10 minutes into this new medium of self discovery.) Okay maybe it's been more like an hour--for every 10 seconds I don't self edit--I spend 10 minutes proof reading. I'll work on this behavior, afterall there are only so many hours in a day.
Bascially I am curious about the human experience, what makes us happy? How do we face fear? How can we be better, more evolved, more civil to one another? How do we cope with loss and regret--how can those things make life better, richer, more textured. I am so incredibly curious about life that my wish list for things I want to accomplish is a mile long, for better or worse I'd like to give it all go (within reason of course). And probably even more important than what I do, it's the fact that people, in general, inspire me. There is no one emotion or act that is unique, we are all influenced in some shape or form by those who have gone before us--our parents, teachers, peers, great scholars, authors, even the old man sitting next to you on the train, who strikes up an unsolicited conversation, he's there to shape your life. Even the creeps, the people who are angry at the world--they are our teachers. We can sort them out to some degree but in the end what we get from them is a definition of life: happiness, love, respect, pain and joy.
I hope here, to pay some sort of homage to those people (and some four legged souls) that have marched across my path, for better or for worse, teaching me hope, perseverance, forgiveness, love and laughter. They--these teachers--are everywhere at all times. In a flash of time they can take the shape of your mother, father, best friend, or your definition God--they can define all that we are and all we hope to be.
I have a friend that had dreamed her whole life of writing a memoir (no she's not me) and one day while discussing this with other friends (our some times second worst critics) the friend declared, "how can you write a memoir, you haven't done anything with your life!" That knife was so deep I felt it from across the room. I learned something that day and, apparently, so did someone else--my friend who dreamed of writing her memoir, instead wrote about chocolate and became a published author.
Okay thats all for now...deep sigh! I'm exhausted. I will post this and probably head upstairs for a well deserved nap, no I have to go to the grocery store. Yes, part of this is breaking patterns.
So is this what defines a blog? What will happen when I send this out into cyber-space--everything, nothing. Who will read this? How does it enrich my life? Only time will tell--I suspose.
I have a finger that hovers over the delete key and my mind races and my body aches for a nap, napping my greatest escape, my heaven and hell. Napping has been made better still by the creation of xanax--ahh..that sweet escape. But giving in to the temptation adds to the pile up of the hundred of other days I've started and stopped before I ever got going. But, if I can work through this--get it down despite all the fear and self loathing, I might actually feel that I can do anything. Moving THROUGH fear, now there's a concept! So with that said, I can say that I've lived long enough to know that there is a beautiful reward at the end of all of this. Whether it be a sense of accomplishment, conquering fear, sharing--the many layers of this 'experiment' have yet to be discovered. I'm here, right now, this moment and for this moment that is all that matters. My fingers are typing away and I'm not proof reading or self editing every 10 seconds... Whoops! Okay I made it 10 seconds.. So we're 10 minutes into this new medium of self discovery.) Okay maybe it's been more like an hour--for every 10 seconds I don't self edit--I spend 10 minutes proof reading. I'll work on this behavior, afterall there are only so many hours in a day.
Bascially I am curious about the human experience, what makes us happy? How do we face fear? How can we be better, more evolved, more civil to one another? How do we cope with loss and regret--how can those things make life better, richer, more textured. I am so incredibly curious about life that my wish list for things I want to accomplish is a mile long, for better or worse I'd like to give it all go (within reason of course). And probably even more important than what I do, it's the fact that people, in general, inspire me. There is no one emotion or act that is unique, we are all influenced in some shape or form by those who have gone before us--our parents, teachers, peers, great scholars, authors, even the old man sitting next to you on the train, who strikes up an unsolicited conversation, he's there to shape your life. Even the creeps, the people who are angry at the world--they are our teachers. We can sort them out to some degree but in the end what we get from them is a definition of life: happiness, love, respect, pain and joy.
I hope here, to pay some sort of homage to those people (and some four legged souls) that have marched across my path, for better or for worse, teaching me hope, perseverance, forgiveness, love and laughter. They--these teachers--are everywhere at all times. In a flash of time they can take the shape of your mother, father, best friend, or your definition God--they can define all that we are and all we hope to be.
I have a friend that had dreamed her whole life of writing a memoir (no she's not me) and one day while discussing this with other friends (our some times second worst critics) the friend declared, "how can you write a memoir, you haven't done anything with your life!" That knife was so deep I felt it from across the room. I learned something that day and, apparently, so did someone else--my friend who dreamed of writing her memoir, instead wrote about chocolate and became a published author.
Okay thats all for now...deep sigh! I'm exhausted. I will post this and probably head upstairs for a well deserved nap, no I have to go to the grocery store. Yes, part of this is breaking patterns.
So is this what defines a blog? What will happen when I send this out into cyber-space--everything, nothing. Who will read this? How does it enrich my life? Only time will tell--I suspose.
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