S-L-U-G

Life's been busy. Talk about your understatements. I haven't updated here in a couple months, I see. Part of the problem stems from not having time to think about matters spiritual lately. That's been superceded by life emergencies.

But yes, I know, life's emergencies are generally the time we think about spirituality. But I've let it all slide.

Well, it's time to think about resurrecting this blog. It's in the works, or at least in consideration for being in the works.

This is step one, reconnecting. Now at least my blog doesn't look so lonely...

Holy Cow

It's been nearly a month since I posted here! I knew I lapsed, but didn't realize it was by THAT much. Sheesh.

I'm thinking about what progress I've actually made on the spiritual front over the past month. One thing I was taught to do recently involves removing the Higher Self from all the other selves (the angry side, the maternal side, the depressed side, etc) and giving it a sort of "break" by imagining it walking up a mountain and just BEING for a while. It's a means of stopping the mind chatter, I guess you'd say.

The result is supposed to calm me, stop me from listening to all that noise, both positive and negative. It does work. I just need to practice it more often.

But as for any big breakthroughs, any spiritual moments, I can't say I've really had any. Not for a long time, unless I'm really missing something.

I need to start another book on the subject, or get back to one I've already started. With everything going on in life it just hasn't been a high priority. Things just haven't been that great.

Hope they're better with all of you.

Today's 7 Bits of Grace

I've fallen off the grace wagon and I've missed it. Again today I was reminded to look for the good stuff among the not so great, so here goes:

1. Though it was cold this morning the sun popped out this afternoon.

2. The scallops I made for dinner came out decently.

3. I started another blog! Wait, is that a good thing?

4. I got in some reading time today.

5. I also got a little cleaning done. A very little, but some.

6. I got in some journal writing time, some really productive journal writing time.

7. Last week the Newberry Library granted me an internship.

Whew, I made it through. It's a tough time of life but there are a few good things.

I truly haven't forgotten this blog...

Though it seems that way. I've been blaring all over the net how busy I am at the end of the semester, but I haven't told readers of this blog. Until now.

Here's a thought to help improve your karma:

"Give away what you want most (love, money, gratitude)."

Because what you give away comes back to you 10 foldish.

From: The Places that Scare You: A Guide to Fearlessness in Difficult Times by Pema Chodron

" A fresh attitude starts to happen when we look to see that yesterday was yesterday, and now it is gone; today is today and now it is new. It is like that - every hour, every minute is changing. If we stop to observe change, then we stop seeing everything as new. "

- Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche

The spirituality of creativity

Of all my latest obsessions, this is one of the top three. Having finally gotten around to keeping a journal, as of July of last year, I'm coming to terms with a lot of things about myself and my mania to create. I also see now how that can be a sort of spiritual experience, a soul-purging kind of cleansing that leads to an number of epiphanies.

At UUC services yesterday creativity was the topic. We're in week 8 of the 10 week "Finding Your Unitarian Spirituality" course, and this is the week I've been waiting for with great anticipation. So, of course, as it turns out the service yesterday was interrupted by a man having what was possibly a heart attack. Talk about the jolt of mortality in the middle of a fascinating sermon...

Hopefully he'll be okay. After the ambulance left the sermon went on, as was the popular consensus. Creativity, the Rev. Dan said, is a sign of life. When creativity ends, you die.

And of course, that lead me to quip about the guy taken off in the ambulance, "I hope he hadn't stopped being creative..." And no, I didn't say that IN the church.

Intriguing thought. I know I'd die, a spiritual if not a mortal death, without creativity. I was never so depressed as the dark time when creativity was eclipsed by the exhaustion of motherhood. They both went hand in hand, feeding off each other leaving me miserable.

But now I write every day. I create constantly. And I'm if not blissful, at least content knowing I have that outlet. Bliss isn't an easy concept for me. I may have my moments, but they're not a constant. Maybe as I'm working through my various issues I'll find bliss more frequently. I expect it'll be in the pages of a book, a manuscript, or as soon as I get my butt in gear, a drawing or painting.

Wherever it is, I know it's in reach.

Reading back through Louise DeSalvo's 'Writing as a Way of Healing: How Telling Our Stories Transforms Our Lives'

If you're a creative sort of person with a horrific past I can't tell you how helpful DeSalvo's book truly is. It's so helpful I could imagine designing a workshop around it, though it would produce work of such a sensitive, personal nature I think one would have to be really careful about it.

The book is very introspective, naturally, and just so, so wise. Here's one of the zillion or so quotes I highlighted:

" ... we possess an emotional self-righting mechanism, akin to our body's innate ability to heal wounds. This is our creative imagination ..."

Apparently DeSalvo read several works on the subject of traumatized children. It seems these little ones tend to engage in imaginative play more often and for much longer than children who've enjoyed pleasant childhoods. And this is what spurs so many creative people to continue making use of creativity in adulthood.

Really a fascinating glimpse inside the creative mind, and a very inspiring program for using one's creativity as an emotional outlet. I'll refer back to this book for a very long time.

Today's Seven Bits of Grace

Consider these as bits of grace from the weekend. From my birthday weekend:

1. Two words: jalapeno cheeseburger.

2. Beer.

3. Finding a bookstore with a biography of Leslie Stephen I didn't already own, and didn't know existed, and having that be my birthday present. Hurrah!

4. Getting away for the weekend, sans children!

5. The weather. It kind of, sort of cooperated giving us hours of sun though not a whole lot of warmth. Still, I'll take it.

6. Fudge. To bring home.

7. The realization at least a couple of my moments of grace didn't involve food: priceless.

Lemons & lemonade

Making the best of your life. That's pretty much the gist of it, though sometimes that's easier said than done. Lots and lots on my plate right now, and I'm not really free to discuss it openly because it's first off highly personal, but second and more inhibiting is the fact keeping a lid on things is advisable, since it involves people in my own family. Maybe I will talk more openly about it once it's done, once I've made that ultimate decision and taken steps to do a few things that may help my fractured soul to heal. But for now it's necessary to be more than a little vague. And yeah, I know that's not all that weird for me at the best of times.

Sometimes in life you find you just can't abide the status quo anymore. That's where I'm at. I've been living a life that's condoned bad things a few key people have done to me, letting them think it must all be okay now when it isn't. The impact on me can't be measured, it really can't. It's affected every other part of my life, to the extent it just can't be ignored anymore or I'll risk hurting myself even more.

Doing something about that is going to take some real planning, and most of my energy. Being the person I am, I don't want to let that monopolize all my time but the time I do have will probably find me exhausted from dealing with these BIG ISSUES.

But I don't want to give the impression it's all bad. Lots of positive things are going on here, too, plenty of reading and writing and things of a creative nature. School's going well, everyone in my house is healthy and doing well, and the dog hasn't pooped in the house today. See, not all grim!

I write about that general life stuff on my Bluestalking blog, so I don't want to repeat it here. This blog's dedicated things spiritual, occasionally blurring into things self improvement. Since I haven't been really all that active in either in the past without boring myself too much. So head on over there for a recap of my birthday weekend, etc.

I'll be back here again soon.

From: Faith by Sharon Salzberg

" No matter what is happening, whenever we see the inevitability of change, the ordinary, or even oppressive, facts of our lives can become alive with prospect. "


What do you think?

This is an idea I've run into in several books on spirituality lately. I think it's a fairly uncomfortable idea to a lot of us, especially westerners, the idea our lives aren't really stable. Stability is an illusion.

Change isn't always good, but it is inevitable. Changes can be made the best of, too. While things are in flux it may cause one to despair, because one thing is passing away, making room for another. But that other?

You never know until you give it a try.

What I'm Reading

Faith: Trusting Your Own Deepest Experience

by Sharon Salzberg

Just started this one, so I don't have anything really to say about it yet. It's my latest read in the spirituality/self help genre, leaning more toward spirituality.

Then again, the two are really related, aren't they?

I'll post on it when I've gotten far enough to have something of interest to say. It's gotten really good reviews at Amazon. I anticipate it being an engaging read.

But I'll let you know.

Today's 7 Bits of Grace

I posted, over on my other blog, about what a crap day I'm having so far. I won't bore you by duplicating, but trust me. It's sucked. And it's not even noon.

But despite that, I'm going to find seven bits of grace, DAMMIT!

1. It's cold as hell outside, and so windy I thought my hair would blow off leaving me bald. But at least it's not snowing. Right now.

2. A national publication asked me to submit an essay to them, on spec. SQUEEEEAL!

3. Subway. Roast beef. Pepper Jack cheese. Hot giardinera.

4. Neal Pollack's dude at Anchor wants to know if I want to interview him. I mean Pollack, not the dude. Umm, give me half a second to think about that one. YESSSSSSSSSSS!

5. I can't feel my forehead lines today.

6. It's almost lunch time. (see # 3)

7. I've been feeling like such total crap because I'm behind reading for the blog bookgroup I'm in, but then I found out one of the guys is nearly as much a sloth as I am.

Phew. This one was a squeaker. But I made it.

How do Unitarians celebrate Easter?

" Live your beliefs and you can turn the world around. "

- Henry David Thoreau

We attended Unitarian services this sunny but cold Easter Sunday. Having no idea what to expect, we came away well pleased with the direction the leader of our church chose to take the sermon.

As I always say, expect little. That way you'll be rewarded even more when you do get something.

Unitarians, as you may know, don't have a creed. Neither do they (I would say "we," but my husband hasn't yet claimed them and I'm brand new to the church) espouse any particular beliefs. Rather, they're a sort of catch-all for people who feel disenfranchised by all the other world religions. As my husband describes it, if you were to put everyone from every major religion in a big sieve and shake it, the ones left over would be qualified for Unitarian status.

That's pretty much the truth. The Unitarians welcome everyone, regardless of religion. There are even atheists who subscribe to the church's membership. Why? Well, because Unitarians believe it's right and good to gather together, pool resources and do good things to help people. They believe in supporting and loving one another without benefit of fear instilled by a stern God sitting in judgment over them. They try to live well for the very best reason: because it's the right thing to do.

I can dig that.

The message today was one of renewal, the same as you'd find in the Christian services on Easter day. It's just minus any belief in the resurrection, a core tenent of the Christian faith. Same general message, minus the religious part.

It's spring, time to get out and enjoy life after the long, cold winter. It's the time for rebirth and renewal, a time of beginnings and of relief the days are getting longer and the weather warmer. That's what it's all about, and that's how the Unitarians celebrate Easter. It's the same general spirit as any other religion, when you get down to the heart of it. It's all about promise and hope.

Hope you had a very nice holiday, whatever you celebrate (or don't). Happy spring!

Reading Wayne Dyer

I'm not sure how to feel about Wayne Dyer. On the one hand, he's the dude PBS calls on when they need to raise a lot of money very quickly. He's so popular he's kind of like Dr. Phil. And I don't have a whole lot of respect for Dr. Phil. Why? Because he's too damn popular. Anything popular must be mass market, and I generally like to travel outside of the pack, where the original people are.

Still, I have to tell you, I just finished reading Dyer's Your Erroneous Zones and I sure did highlight a lot of passages in it. An awful lot. I found some good wisdom in it. It's not wisdom nobody's thought of before, or wisdom that sounds completely original. But it is wisdom of a fairly universal nature, as in stuff I can't really argue about. Even things I find myself nodding in agreement to.

Ah, the dilemma of it all.

I started keeping a self help book journal in honor of finishing this book, so I could write down the key points. That's how much I wound up enjoying it. I know, TOTAL NERD.

But here are a few things I found:

"You are the sum total of all your choices."

Duh. But think about it. Really think. You are responsible for yourself. Your screw ups are not someone else's fault. Man, that's empowering and scary, isn't it?

"The issue here is your own ability to choose happiness, or at least not choose unhappiness, at any given moment of your life."

In other words, QUIT WHINING, LOSER!

He never used the "l" word, but I have a strong feeling he really, really wanted to.

That's tough though, isn't it? You have to give up all that satisfying whining crap and just choose to be happy. But it's way more dramatic the other way. Ugh.

"Why should you do everything well? Who's keeping score for you?"

Damn. That's true. I drive myself, and I pretty much knew that. I have a certain set of expectations for me, not that I always meet them. In fact, I hardly ever do. Do I drive myself too hard? Probably. Probably.

"Entertain yourself with a fantasy in which you allow yourself to have anything."

It's one of those "if you can dream it you can realize it" things. And yeah, I guess that's so. Theoretically. But what I'm fantasizing about now is being Oprah's next wunderkind. That leads to untold prosperity, which leads to complete security and a ticket out of the damn suburbs to someplace with more character. Can I do that?

Maybe if Wayne lends me some of his millions.

You get the idea. It's all this sort of motivational stuff, and most of it's pretty good actually. Scary to hear myself say that. I guess this Dyer guy is okay, unlike Dr. Phil who's a complete media whore. Wayne Dyer has a very Zen philosophy, in a tough love way.

I'll read more by Dyer. In fact, I own three or four of his other books already. He's okay, I've decided.

Photo - the grotto at my undergrad alma mater

I'm not Catholic anymore, and haven't been for a really long time, butI still find the image of the crucifix to be strikingly dramatic. It doesn't move me like it used to. I just find it artistically and aesthetically appealing.

This is a close-up detail photo of the Rosary draped around the hands of the statue of Mary that's the main focus of the grotto on the grounds of my alma mater, Dominican University in River Forest, IL.

Next to the grotto was a major makeout place, a hill in a secluded part of campus that was the destination of many canoodling couples. My first date with my first boyfriend ended up there, but I didn't get so much as a kiss. Instead, we lay on the grass looking up at the sky, while I couldn't help wondering if he'd ever roll over and lay one on me, already. I was all dressed up and everything, dammit!

Such a fool that one was. He didn't. At least on that occasion. It's still a nice memory, though. One of the only pleasant times I had with the one I not only let get away, but threw away with great force. A very wise move, as it turned out.

The grotto was never so much a religious spot for me as it was a contemplative one. I walked out there when there was something bothering me, when I had a heavy burden on my mind and needed a little alone time to think things through.

It was tranquil there, and it still is.

I was the only one there this morning, just after dawn when I walked around the campus. The ground was still muddy from winter, and a couple piles of snow still lay on the ground, but the tranquility was, for lack of a better term, heavenly.

In spring they plant flowers by the grotto, filling the space with color. Now it's uniform grey and brown, dull as the end of winter always is.

But it's still a beautiful place, a place of peace and tranquility.

Today's 7 Bits of Grace

1. Publishers, and the delightful books they send me for review! It can get overwhelming, but the piles are a beauteous bounty. And yeah, I know. This isn't the first time I've been grateful for them. Occasionally everyone has re-runs.

2. The outlet of art. I'm fortunate I can blow off proverbial steam in writing, especially, but I also plan to indulge my love of creating in other ways in the near future.

3. Spring break!!! No grad school classes for me this week.

4. A family day scheduled for Good Friday. No idea what we'll do, but I'm sure we'll find us some fun.

5. Lay's potato chips! Nothing goes better with my daily turkey sandwich, though I'm *supposed* to be eating carrots instead...

6. Friends. And green beer.

7. Antacids. And sleep.

The zen of sleeping in

Didn't make UUC services this morning, as we were out late last night par-taying it up for St. Paddy's Day. My best galpal from college and her beau came along with us to see comedian (a loose term, as it turns out) Colin Quinn perform locally. After that, as it was a holiday and all, we went to our local microbrew restaurant for a few "samples." Several plastic glasses, much loud, live music and loud namings of anatomical parts later, we realized how late it really was (an astounding 1:00 a.m.) and had to head home. Luckily, for us the drive was short. Unluckily for galpal 'n beau, not so short.

Anyhoo, I'm upright and dressed today, but with a pounding headache starting at the base of my skull. Tra la!

So, nothing of a truly spiritual nature to talk about today. Spirits, yes, but not so much spiritual, unless you count the wisdom found at the bottom of a glass. At times that's not to be underestimated, I'll grant you that, but for today I'm just nursing my exhaustion and looking forward to a good nap.

Hopefully you can find some inspiration in that, though God knows what it would be. Good times, good friends, bad stand-up comedy. Green beer, interesting Irish-inspired headgear and lots of laughs. It's a good thing.

Hangin' in

" The horizon leans forward, offering you space to place new steps of change."

- Maya Angelou


A thought occurred to me today. They tend to do that sometimes. I realized I've been saying "hang in there" to a lot of people lately, friends or acquaintances having difficulties with a wide variety of things, dragging them down. It's my form of counseling, my attempt to enforce my hope the person will find strength when he or she needs it, so they can cope with difficult times. It's a catch-all phrase most of us use from time to time, a sort of shoring up, letting the person know we care.

A lot of life is made up of hanging in there, basically waiting out tough times and hoping better things are right around the corner. Much like the time we spend waiting, whether in line or at the doctor's office, whatever, this "hanging in there" time is a sort of dead time, a time of suspension.

It also occurred to me, what a waste this time can be. It's stagnant and unmoving as we resort to some sort of primal hibernation instinct, a self-protecting reflex designed to prevent us from any more harm while we work out what's first and foremost on our minds.

What I do when I'm faced with a big life challenge like this is journal about it. I like to look at things from a variety of perspectives, taking the different sides of myself into account and commenting to my core, my "higher self" as it's so commonly called, talking things out until I feel I have a better idea what's going on. Often when you really dig into things solutions will occur to you, or sometimes just temporary patches that will make things feel a little better and allow you to move on.

We all have those dead times in our lives, whole weeks and months, sometimes years when we're static, making little or no forward progress whatsoever. The evil in that is it's time you can't get back, no matter how much you may wish it. We know the best thing to do is to get unstuck and move forward, but that's so much easier said than done. For the time that is gone, that we can't get back, the important thing is to figure out the lesson and move forward as positively as you can. But while you're stuck, it's equally important to work hard to dislodge yourself, moving out of the rut as best you can and as quickly as possible.

Maybe I should change my "hang in there" phrase to something more like, "write on!" or "talk it through." It occurs to me now that telling someone to essentially stay in place, hoping life will step in and move them forward may not be the best idea after all. Getting them unstuck is much more crucial, helping them through the rough patch until they can find a new grip on things.

Funny how sometimes the most common, everyday things we say suddenly become epiphanies when we really stop to think about them. That's another step toward the goal of the life that's lived, rather than the life spent waiting around for something to happen. And I'm not some guru, not some perfect person (ask my husband, he'll tell you...), but I have found becoming more conscious of every little thing can lead to a whole lot of bigger ones.

So, don't necessarily just hang in there when life gets tough. That's my advice. Write it out, talk it out, think it through, whatever's your style. And keep moving forward.

Today's 7 Bits of Grace

1. Whipping the younger of our two dogs into a frenzy is not only fun, but damn funny. It doesn't matter what you say so long as you say it in a really, really excited voice. Lia seldom fails to entertain (save when she craps on the floor).

2. Sunny and 55 degrees today! After a long winter that was just what the doctor ordered.

3. Brownies, glorious brownies.

4. A health club membership, to counteract the effects of # 3. Well, only if I haul ass OVER there. But I know it's there. That's the good part.

Right?

5. Dress pants with just enough spandex in them so the dryer doesn't shrink them as much as it might otherwise. (See # 4)

6. Writing in my journal, and the release that gives.

7. An interview with a Booker Prize winner! I can't complain. (Well, maybe I won't go that far.)

Thursday? GACK!, and recalling a dream

I would have sworn it was just Sunday yesterday, the day I go for my latest dose of UUC. I planned to post here immediately after that, but life, dear reader, most decidedly got in my way. It can be such a bitch that way.

Anyhoo, too busy now to really update you much, but I did want to report this wild dream I had, mostly so I can remember it.

I dreamed I was married to Michael Jordan, yes the former basketball player. Michael and I were in the basement dungeon (?) of our palatial home when I realized we had both a tiger and a lion running through the place. The beasts were threatening our pets and children, so I knew something had to be done. Michael jumped up, grabbed the beasts, and somehow locked them in a closet. Now, that was resourceful and all, but I somehow didn't trust a wooden door to keep us all safe. So I gathered up all the children and our pets and started up the stairs to get out of the house, while Michael kept that closet door closed. He's so selfless that way!

Then I realized our cats had had kittens (for the record, we own two MALE cats in real life - two neutered male cats) and these were running all over the place. I had to grab every one of them. I was scared to death they'd be eaten! So I eventually did get them, and headed up the stairs to safety, though I did still worry about Michael.

Then I woke up, to my real life husband shaking my shoulder saying, "Oh my God, it's 7:30! Wake up!"

Fun to have a weird ass dream I can actually remember. Usually they go POOF as soon as I wake up. This was one of those groggy, fall back asleep and dream dreams, and I was able to recall it this time around.

That's it for now. Will return with more thoughts spiritual, and another list of 7, when I can.

Today's 7 Bits of Grace

1. Banana pancakes - mmmm....

2. Sleeping in a little later than normal is a good thing.

3. The sun peeked out for a while today after a snow shower that amounted to nothing.

4. I'm meeting friends tonight at Borders!

5. They have coffee at Borders.

6. I have lots of homework, but a lot of it is reading. :-)

7. We're starting to talk about summer vacation plans here, and we may get to go east again - Hurrah! Or, if not east, perhaps west as far as California. But I wouldn't bank on that.

Sundays... BLECH.

" The feeling of Sunday is the same everywhere, heavy, melancholy, standing still."

- Jean Rhys


My question today is why do Sundays tend to feel so awful? I don't have a job I dread going to on Mondays or anything. That would explain some of it, but I love working in a library. What bibliophile wouldn't? So why does the last day of the week leave me feeling so melancholic? I can't quite get my head around that, even if it does seem like a fairly universal thing, dreading Sundays.

Sundays are usually pretty good days here, especially lately. Paul and I have gotten into the routine of going to breakfast and then to UUC services on Sunday mornings, sometimes hitting a bookstore after, sometimes going to Starbuck's. It's not like we have nothing to look forward to at the end of the week. I do usually have homework to do on Sundays, but I don't hate that, either. It's library school, after all. It doesn't (usually) suck.

So why do Sundays leave me with that feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach? They just feel so sad to me, so lacking in hope, no matter what the actual state of my day is. They're like one long string of grey days, unremittingly dismal.

It could partially be the weather, and the fact this has been a loooooong, dragged out season of cold and snow. The good news is today we set the clocks ahead, giving us more daylight hours in the evening, shortening those seemingly endless nights to something a little more manageable. I'm hoping as things warm up I'll perk up a little on Sundays, and as the days grow longer things will seem more positive.

I'll be back either later today or tomorrow to report on this week's UUC message. In the meantime, hope all's well with you and yours.

Now I'm off to do homework. The homework that doesn't suck, in case you were wondering.

I'm okay, you're okay. But mostly, I'm okay.

Welcome to the weekend, yet again. It's been, how shall I put this... an eventful week. It's one I'm glad to put to virtual bed, that's for sure. Though I've had worse weeks, I wouldn't want to repeat this last one anytime soon.

And yeah, that's being purposely vague. If you want to know details, buy my memoir! And no, isn't written. Yet.

Homework-intensive weekend here since I'm behind on pretty much everything. Headlining the action is a mini-research project that shouldn't hopefully take more than another hour or so to finish. Then I have another 1,000 hours' worth of other reading for school.

UUC tomorrow, followed by more... you guessed it! Homework.

So, you see, the excitement continues.

Quote: Anna Quindlen

" The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself. "

- Anna Quindlen

Today's 7 Bits of Grace

Alright. Gritting my teeth here, but I am determined to find 7 moments of grace from the last day or two since I've not posted on the topic:

1. Got another homework assignment done and turned in for library school.

2. Bill Bryson's recent book on Shakespeare is on audio CD, and I've been listening to that lately. I don't retain facts well, so I'm always due for a good biographical reminder on Mr. S. Shocking how much I'd forgotten.

3. Much of our snow has melted away.

4. Eventually I must be able to sleep again.

5. In a few hours I'll be able to drink coffee.

6. Umm.... Well... I still haven't caught a horrible virus this winter, at least not one that kept me down over a day or two.

7. This weekend we turn the clocks ahead, so it'll stay light later. Thank goodness.

Phew. Made it through. Trying to tell myself it'll get better... It'll get better...

INSOMNIA

Welcome to my sleepless nights.

I'm in an insomnia pattern. Fun! This is night, oh, three or so of getting just about as little sleep as is humanly possible to function.

It's nearly 2:30 a.m. now and I haven't slept a wink. Last night and the night before I had little catnaps through the night. But tonight, nada so far.

The good news is I have plenty to read. Finding something to do isn't problematic, it's just knowing I'll feel like crap tomorrow that makes me a little bummed.

So, may as well report in on what I realized earlier today I still hadn't done, UU lesson # what was it... four?

The topic: what I believe about life. Examples: People are generally good, I have to roll with the punches and enjoy what life gives me, stuff like that. That's what some other people said re: what they feel is true.

But as for me? Hmmm. Let's see. One thing I believe in is karma. The Christians refer to it as the Golden Rule. Basically, how you treat others comes right back to you. It's not supposed to work out in this life that you see the immediate results. That's the stuff of several lifetimes, if you believe in that kind of thing. But I think a version of it is more instant than that. Some of it does come back around. I've seen it. It may not be properly karma, but it's close enough for me.

Other beliefs in life... Well, it's hard to believe people are generally good, at least right now. Actually, it's not a good time for me to even delve too deeply, methinks. I'll stick with a firm belief in something resembling karma, and leave it at that.

Now I'm going to go write a column, since it's nearly 3:00 and I'm still not sleepy. Maybe once I get a rough draft done I'll be able to get some rest. I hope.

Karma's whippin' girl

" I used to think anyone doing anything weird was weird. Now I know that it is the people that call others weird that are weird. "

- Paul McCartney


" Huh?"

- Lisa Guidarini


In case you aren't getting the drift, I'm a person to whom things just tend to happen. There's something about me that attracts weird and wild things and people, totally against my will. That's always been the case. People on the fringes of society, for example, are attracted to me like it's a magnetic force beyond their power to resist. If you observed it from above, as an apparently sado-masochistic supreme being very possibly does (and I am his/her favorite form of entertainment, obviously), you'd see that when I pass through a crowd, any crowd, all the yahoos gravitate toward me. I can't be angry with them. They can't help it. But it's getting annoying as all hell.

It's not just that, either. Gravity is stronger around me. Compare my frequency of dropping things to the average and you'll see what I mean. Embarrassment happens to me more often, and Murphy's Law? Written for me. Totally for me.

I'm really a fairly unassuming person. I don't go out of my way to attract notice, and in fact I pretty well shun it. Yeah, okay, not online. Online I'm a big publicity hoor. I jump up and down and wave my arms, I fearlessly approach big name authors, I leave no chance untaken. But in real life? Wallflower, baby. Wallflower. You'd so not approach me to ask to sign my dance card at a party. I'd open my mouth and shoot out fire at you, or hypnotize you with eyes that pop out of my head and swirl around and around, transfixing you until you forget what you were going to ask in the first place. Needless to say, I'm a big hit at parties.

So, why exactly it is that action of the most dramatic nature seeks me out I don't know. And I may be just a really big crybaby here. Wah, wah, poor ME. But I could get some sworn affadavits from several people attesting to the fact stuff does happen to me, and it's vastly out of proportion to stuff that happens to other people. It's been verified, people! Verified! And it's making me really tired. Really tired.

I need a vacation. Or maybe even a short retreat. It's been a long, long year, one I wrote masses of pages about, trying to figure at least some of it out. I sat down with my primary journal for a while last night, paging through it looking for insight. Frankly, it reads like something a crack whore would have written while on a roller coaster, while also having a really bad trip. And then the roller coaster car flies off the track and through the air, skimming over the carnival, skipping across the tops of the tents. Meanwhile the crack whore is alternately laughing and gripping the safety bar, white-knuckled. That pretty well describes it.

From entry to entry nothing stays consistent. Well, nothing but my whining. Much like the constant tinnitus I suffer from, the tinnitus that would drive me mad in a totally quiet room, the background refrain of my journal sounds like the noise a mosquito makes when it buzzes your ear in the middle of the night. ANNOYING.

That's not to say none of my points are valid. They are, but it's so obvious I couldn't make up my mind on a goddamn thing. One day it's one thing, the next it's the total opposite. That's what you call a confusing time. And in the midst of it, THE OTHER, the controlling friend who maybe wasn't such a great friend. The great chimera, the force that nearly destroyed me. And I totally bought into it, like I was born yesterday. Idiot.

So now I'm left thinking am I the one attracting all this chaos without realizing I'm doing it? Or are there outside forces fucking with me, just for the sheer entertainment of it all. If so, that's so not nice, and it's one of the very biggest reasons I have such a problem with all of this higher power stuff. Bad things happening to good people (and I don't just mean me here), horrible things and not just annoyances, while nasty people glide along through life. Why?

Just one of the many things I grapple with on a daily basis. Or, well, sometimes just weekly. I keep pretty well occupied. But this one's a biggie. A veritable hugie. It's one I can't find an answer for, at least not one that satisfies or even satisfices. Some things I can content myself with just not knowing. I don't have a problem with open-ended questions. Things like the Universe, that I can deal with (though it freaks the hell out of my kids). But this one? This one I just don't get. I don't know why it all has to be such a challenge. Why it's all so hard, more so for some than others. Why do so many bad things happen to people who've already been loaded down with crap?

Why?

If anyone can "riddle me this" I'd be so appreciative.

Toxic Shock

"Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing. Use the pain as fuel, as a reminder of your strength."

- August Wilson (1945-2005)

There are people on this earth who, no matter how much credit you try to give them, constantly disappoint. But not only do they disappoint, they also have the destructive potential to wreak havoc on your life, and cause grave harm and hurt to you and others you care about.

Naturally, we'd love to give people the benefit of the doubt in every instance. Most people would like to think the best of others. I think that's so. But much life experience has taught me otherwise. Not everyone is good. So many are selfish, deceptive and awful no matter how much we'd like to think well of them. Some people are simply toxic to the soul.

In some cases it may be that it's a certain combination of individuals that makes the toxicity, that there's something about the mixture of the two that turns corrosive, no matter how hard they may try to get along. Separately the two are fine and good but together the mixture is awful. Or it could be that one of the individuals is just a genuinely bad person. It can be hard to discern the difference when you're in the midst of it all; it's only afterward that you can look back coolly and rationally and see how it really was.

There come times in all our lives we find we have to break from people who have the capacity to destroy us, from these toxic people who would be ruinous to our lives if we let them be. Especially those of us with a self-destructive impulse, we have to be even more vigilant because it isn't in our nature not to be self-shielding. It's much more dangerous in cases like this, and much more crucial to break the cycle. And it's better not to go this alone, without help from caring people who honestly have our best interests at heart. Discerning who these good people are can sometimes be a challenge, but they are out there.

I had to break from a toxic person recently, from someone who seemed intent on destroying me through a series of manipulations I didn't even see as manipulative for so long it's almost embarrassing. I have my share of blame, too. I'm not saying I don't. Nothing is ever just one person's doing, but it's usually one person who has to stand up and say ENOUGH. This has gone on too long. It's been a difficult and emotionally draining thing, but with every day that goes by I feel that much stronger, more certain I've taken the right action.

Life has so many rites of passage, some we know to expect and others, like this, that are unpleasantly unexpected bumps in the road. Like everything that happens to us, the important thing to take away is how you'll use the experience going into the future. What's past is past. You can't change any of that, no matter how much wishing and wanting you do. All you can do is look at what positives you can draw, and how you can use the experience to go forward with your life.

The positives won't always be obvious. Sometimes you'll have to dig for them, but they'll always be there in some form. At times the only positive you'll find is the added wisdom the event gave you, the lesson being the lesson in itself. Though it's tough, that may be the only take-away grace from a really bad experience.

But in any event, grace it is.

Today's 7 Bits of Grace

Some days this exercise is so easy. Other days? Not so much.

Today's a not so much.

1. My new haircut is positively PERKY!

2. For my grad school homework I need to read a novel. I'll repeat that: READ A NOVEL.

3. It was 50 degrees today, even if it is grey and drizzly.

4. Ummmm.... I mentioned the hair, mentioned the reading... weather... Oh, I finished another homework assignment and got it turned in.

5. Bagel and lox for breakfast this morning, from Einstein bagels. YUM.

6. The kids have been pretty quiet today, no fights to mention.

7. The choice in the 2008 election will be between a Democrat and a pro-choice, liberal, non Bible-thumping Republican. That's about as good as it gets, people.

As disorganized with this as I am with everything

Is it just me, or do other people think they're way too disorganized in every aspect of life? Even here, with my spiritual quest, I find myself thinking, "You know, you should have this outlined. There must be a logical way for you to progress through this. Maybe there's a book on that."

Yeah, and maybe there's a book on life that I've missed out on, one that explains everything in plain language. One I'll find in my dreams. You know those dreams. You're walking around your house, only it isn't your house, and you discover there's an extra room, or rooms, you never knew existed before. And you marvel, thinking, "Damn! I could really put a lot of crap in these rooms!" Somewhere in that dreamworld room is the book holding the key to life, the Universe and everything. The only problem is when I reach for it in my dreams it turns into a spider monkey. It bites me and runs away, just before I realize I'm not wearing pants, and the room becomes a classroom, and it's the final exam....

So, maybe it is a little anal to think I should find a logical way to progress through this or any aspect of my life. If we'd been handed outlines when we were born I think a lot of us would have committed suicide by now. You want me to WHAT, when I'm HOW OLD?! Screw that. I'm outta here.

Those of us afflicted with monkey mind are always a little paranoid we're not organizing things effectively. Usually we're right. That's the kicker. A small voice inside our primate-infested minds tells us to slow down, take a breath, write out an agenda. Look at things logically and plan. It'll make life so much smoother. Meanwhile our minds are saying, "Chocolate! Bookstore! Cute guy wearing glasses! Did I take my meds this morning? Damn, I didn't! Or did I? I want turkey for lunch!"

It's hopeless. Just hopeless.

This Sunday is Week 3 of the UUC spiritual quest. To be honest, I don't remember what we're working on for next week, but that's okay. I barely remember an hour ago. Hell, five minutes ago. I'm sitting here with 12 windows open on my computer, which is a relatively small number for me at any given time. I've been to a gazillion websites in the past two hours, looking for a gazillion things. And you want me to remember what I'm doing next week?!

Oh, sorry. That was me, not you. I lose track sometimes.

I guess I'm coming along on THE QUEST. Improvements are being made in the form of having just a touch more insight into my monkey mind and all the attendant truths I may or may not believe in. Progress appears to be a really slow thing. I guess there are no quick fixes. That totally sucks ass.

One thing's for sure. I got a lot out of the whole Anne Lamott experience, listening to two of her books on CD within the past couple of weeks. I learned it's okay to be royally messed up, that we pretty much all are, and that it's more okay than we think. In the big scheme of things we really do matter so little, and most things are little things.

I was trying to decide which Anne Lamott quote is my favorite, but it's kind of tough considering I didn't read the physical books so I didn't get to write anything down. I'll probably read the books sometime, but for now the quote I'll pick came from near the end of Grace (Eventually). It was:

"You can get the monkey off your back, but the circus never completely leaves town."

Ain't that the truth?

I'll leave you to ponder that one while I go off to open another dozen windows. So the monkeys can climb out.

Today's 7 Bits of Grace

1. So far I haven't spilled coffee on my new, white, $ 7 sweater. This is a bigger accomplishment than you might think. I am The Big Dribbler.

2. The bad news is I finished listening to the audio CD of Anne Lamott's 'Grace (Eventually).' I enjoyed it so much I miss her already.

The good news is I found this other guy who may be interesting to listen to, too. But then again, no one else is Anne Lamott. :-(

3. My Girl Scout cookies came in today!!! (MINEMINEMINEMINE)

4. It snowed last night, yes, but not much.

5. Tomorrow I'm getting my hair cut! I need it desperately. Once I have my new style I will be outrageously beautiful and everything in my life will fall into place. Oh, sorry, lost consciousnes briefly.

6. The kids are home from school today, and I'll be at work at least part of the day.

7. I need to do a lot of reading this weekend! Bliss.

Instant Karma!

Today's Instant Karma!:

"Enjoy your eccentricities and those of other people."

Like I've always said, normal people are so damn boring. Anyone who's always the same, who's completely predictable is pretty dull to be around.

I tend to like people for their oddities, their distinguishing characteristics as much as for any other trait. The more quirky the better for me. Well, within reason. If you wear aluminum foil on your head because you think it blocks aliens from reading your mind that's a little psycho. (We all know it's plastic wrap that really does that.) Then I may not hang out with you too much. But if you have a weird addiction to going to garage sales, if you collect something, anything quirky or off-beat, or if you like books more than people, then you're someone I'd like to take to dinner.

My closest friends enjoy my company because of my unpredictability as well as my willingness to go along with almost anything. I have a wide variety of likes. Pretty much any, say, ethnic food is fine with me. If you like it I'm willing to try it.

They also like my oddball sense of humor, my ability to come up with some damn fine one-liners at the drop of a hat. I'm not always on my game, but I am a good chunk of the time.

I'm losing a lot of fear of looking weird as I grow older. I'm willing to do more things I'd have cringed to even think about in the past. Yeah, I still have my limits. That's what makes me fit for company. But I'm ever changing and evolving.

To me, that's what makes life interesting, and keeps it interesting. And that's a very important thing.

Today's 7 Bits of Grace

1. My daughter's planning a sleepover this weekend. At someone else's house.

2. I got my ass out of bed this morning and went to work out. I managed a full hour on the elliptical!

3. Anne Lamott's book on CD (Grace (Eventually)) made me laugh out loud on the way to work this morning. She was talking about what a shit her teenage son was. I got satisfaction out of her comment, "That's why teenagers make such good terrorists."

4. Books! Lots and lots of books. I'm tripping over them in all the rooms of my house.

5. I organized myself well enough to ship out two packages I'm so, so late in sending. What a relief.

6. Sunny again today!

7. I remembered to bring my lunch to work with me this morning. Hurrah!

Today's 7 Bits of Grace

1. I only have one daughter.

2. Kohl's is having their huge winter clearance. I got a sweater for $ 7.00!

3. The sun's out again today and it's gorgeous.

4. My house is relatively clean, because I decided that would be a more fun use of time than doing homework all afternoon/evening.

5. I still got my homework done.

6. Martha Stewart gave some great ideas for quick dinner recipes this morning. I can always use quick menu ideas. (Now the challenge is remembering them.)

7. Anne Lamott made me laugh this morning. A lot. She accomplishes a lot of this by swearing. A lot.

Un-freaking-believable: A rant

"Mothers of teenagers know why animals eat their young."

- Unknown, but could be anyone...


I am raising a monster, or, if not exactly a monster, at the least a selfish, fire-breathing beastie who seems pretty certain she's at the dead center of the universe. In other words, a fourteen-year-old daughter.

Conversation last night at the dinner table turned to the fact I'm gone a lot lately, since I'm in grad school and also I'm working part-time. I have a lot going on, especially through May when the semester ends. After that I won't have to commute to school. Everything after this semester will be online. But for now, yeah. I am gone an awful lot.

So my daughter tells me I'm ruining her life by having my own life. For a dozen years I was a stay at home mom. I went back to work in late 2005, once the kids were all in school all day. I started grad school last year, knowing it would be rough fitting everything in. The least I expected was a little support from the family. From my daughter I'm getting nothing but grief.

I have to remember she is a teenager, and teenagers consider nothing in the world to be as important as their interests. Like toddlers they're selfish and demanding, only now they have the added benefit of a full vocabulary. An annoyingly full vocabulary. Kind of makes me long for the days she'd just throw herself on the floor screaming. At least then I could put her in her crib and close the door. Now I can't lift her, but if I could I'd gladly try to lock her away SOMEWHERE, ANYWHERE if I could.

The thing is, I don't see how she's gotten this way. By insisting on my own life and career(s) I thought I'd be setting a good example for the kids, showing them life doesn't end when you're a parent. Parents are people, dammit! We have lives, too, and they're just as important to us as theirs are to them. I'm asserting myself, getting back out into the world, finding my niche. And my daughter? All she does is whine about how UNFAIR it all is.

The girl's already in activities like you wouldn't believe. She's in chorus, show choir, regular orchestra, chamber orchestra, fiddle club, dance and she has a part in her school musical. I drive her to school early some mornings, pick her up late some nights, take her to dance, wait for her, take her home... And that's not counting all the extra trips, the other places she needs to be driven. Her complaint? She can't do every single thing she wants to do, partly because I now have a life.

Ah, poor child. That's life.

Sorry, had to vent today. It's a little frustrating sometimes, you know? Grrrrrrrrrr.

Today's 7 Bits of Grace

1. Recycling my hair worked out okay today. I got away with not washing it this morning, thus saving me at least half an hour's prettifying time.

2. Trader Joe's! For nummies and flowers and all sorts of things. Oh my!

3. The sun's out right now, which makes it seem less cold out there.

4. Two more books came in for me via interlibrary loan: Now You See Him by Eli Gottlieb and Disturbances in the Field by Lynne Sharon Schwartz.

5. Obama's ahead in all the polls today.

6. My smaller size black dress pants fit and so far haven't split wide open. I'm mystified, but I'll take it.

7. The cats didn't vomit overnight. At least not that I've found.

A certain slant of light

" There's a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons That oppresses, like the Heft of Cathedral Tunes. "

- Emily Dickinson


Dear god, I am so sick of winter. We had more snow last night, less than predicted but still. Snow.

I've never been this impatient for spring. By late winter I'm usually ready for a little warmth but I was ready far earlier than that. In fact, since, oh, around January 2 I've been impatiently waiting for the snow to melt away and the daffodils to start popping up in my garden. Needless to say, that hasn't happened yet.

It's hard to recall a time there wasn't a blanket of snow on the ground. It is better now that it's covered by fresh snowfall, because the look was getting ugly before that. Dirty snow is one of the ugliest looks. Mother Nature so doesn't look good in that. But now, with the fresh powder, it's better. Well, better in a HURRY UP AND MELT ALREADY! way.

Last fall I thought to myself the winter season will be good; I'll be sure to stay inside more and I'll get my homework done. There's not so much temptation to get out and take photos in winter, at least once you've taken a thousand pictures featuring the white theme. But now? The novelty of cold and snow has totally worn off.

Totally.

I'm trying to see a positive to this winter. So far no luck. It's been snow storm after snow storm. While snow days are good things, unexpected bonus days that they are, even that's not really much incentive anymore. I'm getting stir-crazy. I want to get out of the house without having to bundle up in layers upon layers. My new leather coat, the one that's more fashionable than the old one (with the fur trim on the hood, which the dog decided she needed to kill) isn't warm enough. And yeah, that's my own fault, I could wear another layer under it, blah blah blah.

BUT I DON'T WANT TO!

I want warmth, or at least regular sun to melt off the snow and bring out some green already. The snow does really oppress. Or maybe it's the cold outside that keeps us all clinging indoors, wrapped up in blankets. It drags on too long, and seems like it'll never loosen its grip. It's a lot like the Republican party that way.

What I need to do is take a deep breath and just acknowledge no amount of whining and foot stomping are going to make winter end any earlier. I'm looking at probably another couple weeks or more of just this snow that's on the ground now. Maybe a little longer. The potential's still there for more of it, too. And as for cold, I won't see 70 degrees for another month. Or two.

March is an uncertain month. April, too. Cold and rain aren't strangers to them. We can't even plant flowers 'til after mid-May here. That's when the danger of frost is most likely past. But even that's not a guarantee.

But there must be a positive about this, some way to look at it so it's not so dreary, so unbearable. Homework I have aplenty, and other reading, too. I have enough to keep me busy, that's not the issue. It's warmth and budding new life I'm looking for.

Maybe I'll stop by Trader Joe's and pick up a bunch of tulips or two today, after work. Tulips are one of the first heralds of spring. Even if I won't be seeing them in my garden anytime soon I can at least see them in a vase.

I'll do that.

As Anne Lamott said:

"You reap exactly what you sow, that is, you cannot grow tulips from zucchini seeds."

Amen to that.

Today's 7 Bits of Grace

Some of these overlap the weekend. It cannot be helped.


1. My creatively artistic friends! They keep me interested in life.

2. Days when the words flow. Makes me glad to be a writer, though a big, fat publishing contract would make me even happier. Finding my special place! Finding my special place!

3. Finding clean underwear in my drawer that hasn't been chewed by the dog.

4. Having a husband who puts clean underwear in my drawer, otherwise things wouldn't run nearly as smoothly. Not that my life is smooth. Sorry. Off track.

5. Wine. Red, red wine. Lots and lots of red, red wine.

6. My next Anne Lamott audio CDs landed on my desk!!

7. Snow days. No grad school class tonight!

My Unitarian Journey: Step 2, Pray tell

"Prayer is not asking. It is a longing of the soul. It is daily admission of one's weakness. It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart."

- Mahatma Ghandi


Yesterday's UUC service was on the topic of prayer, and all the different ways to pray. Considering my most often used form of prayer consists of a sharply uttered, "JESUS CHRIST!" (or, on really special occasions, "JESUS H. CHRIST!") I didn't have a whole lot of formulated thought ready on the topic.

Aside from a couple fervent years when I was a teenager, during the time I considered becoming a nun one day (!), prayer has never been a big part of who I'm about. There've been exceptions, times when things were so dark and scary I did make a few "mental requests" to a God who may or may not actually be there. The results of those applications sometimes seemed apparent, and the request was either granted or not (strangely, this happened about 50 % of the time, go figure), but because I could never prove conclusively that anything was ever influenced by my prayers I eventually fell off that wagon. I wasn't convinced anything I said was going anywhere, or that it did any good.

But I think there are effective ways to pray that even we uncertain could employ to good effect. Some just call it meditation, and it's used in all sorts of different ways by different people. It doesn't have to be religious in theme. It can be more about centering yourself, or thinking deeply about things in general or something in specific that's bugging you. The bottom line is it should make you feel better, more equipped to deal with Life, the Universe and Everything.

Whatever your practice, if you feel better that's what matters. Throwing out good wishes for others can never be a bad thing, either. Whether or not that accomplishes anything in the form of measurable response I honestly don't know, but drawing yourself out of yourself, and into a more humanist, caring mindset is never a bad thing. And if it does turn out to have helped someone, how much better knowing you gave it a shot.

Learn not to be the center of your own Universe. I guess that's what I'm trying to say. Honor yourself and your thoughts, feelings, problems, etc., but realize other people are going through a lot of crap, too. I think Gandhi said that originally. Anyway, a little time spent honoring others is bound to remind you others suffer, too. That may sometimes make your own problems seem if not smaller then at least commonly shared.

Just don't use the time for thinking things that are vindictive. And no voodoo dolls, either. That's so uncool, and so, SO bad for the karma. Though yeah, I feel that temptation sometimes, too. We all do, whether we admit it or not.

There are also all kinds of books out there containing inspiring quotes you can use to guide your meditation, not to mention meditation guides themselves. I bought one recently, though I haven't even had time to look at it yet. But still, I have it.

In case anyone asks.

Today's 7 Bits of Grace

Gifts of grace I'm thankful for today:

1. Barnes & Noble exists! Calloo, callay.

2. Revlon ColorStay makeup (eyeliner and eye makeup specifically), makeup that truly DOES stay on all day. Saints be praised!

3. Friends that stick by me, even when I'm a pain in the ass. Which is most of the time.

4. Beer, especially micro brews.

5. Medical insurance that pays for "talk doctors," aka paid best friends.

6. Fountain pens, especially disposable ones with purple/violet ink.

7. My trusty dog by my side, snoring away, while I type my column. She's warm, plus I can blame my belches on her. Taffy! Bad girl!

Grace, Amazingly

Okay, so according to not only MY LOVE Anne Lamott, but also to a number of other sources I've been reading lately it's a really good thing to list things you're grateful for every day. Some create a list of five things, some ten and some an insane number I won't even consider.

My number, I just decided, is SEVEN. Seven as in Lucky Seven, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, Seven and Seven (yes, please!).

Every. Single. Day.

Wow.

Okay, the purpose of this exercise is to prove to yourself your life doesn't suck as much as you clearly see, I mean THINK it does. No matter how crap your day has been, you have to find seven things you can be happy about. They can also be things you're happy didn't happen. I just decided that, because my palms are getting all sweaty and I'm starting to hyperventilate at the thought of coming up with seven entire things every time I sit down to my computer.

DEEP BREATH.

Okay. Seven. I can do this:

1. I never had a fourth child.
2. It didn't snow today.
3. The dog crapped outside my room, not in it, in front of my closet where she usually likes to go.
4. Half Price Books had some great books on sale for $ 1. And I bought them.
5. I interlibrary loaned another Anne Lamott book on CD, which will hopefully get to me soon.
6. My hair didn't look as ugly and dry as it sometimes does.
7. The oatmeal cookies are done baking. Yum.

Phew. I made it.

I love Anne Lamott

I don't care who in the world knows! I love Anne Lamott.

I'm listening to one of her autobiograpical books on CD in the car right now. Well, not right now, but this week. The bummer of it is I'm almost done with this one, but the good thing is she has others on CD.

All the way up to Wheeling this morning, on my trek to the North Suburban Library System headquarters for a class in workplace communications (Zzzzzzzz), I was listening to her talk about faith, grace and her fat thighs. I can't so much identify with her on the faith (because her God hath reameth me too many times), I sort of understand the concept of grace, but it's the fat thighs where we really connect. That I'm all over.

The downside of my Anne Lamott love came to me on the drive back home. As I slid in that last CD for this particular book it hit me. Goddamn, life's a lot of work. It's a lot of work, and it's likely one of these days you'll come down with a terminal disease, then you'll die. If you don't do that you'll either get hit by a bus or drown or something. Oh, and good news! Along the way you'll lose your looks, get grey hair, and your boobs will sag down to your ankles.

What fun!

Then I got to thinking, is that really what I want to do? And I wished I'd upped my meds again.

I have to remember I'm probably 15 - 20 years or even more younger than Anne Lamott, though that sounds really mean and bitchy to say. But what I mean is, I'm just starting to show those annoying signs of age. Some days I have lines on my forehead. Some days I don't. It depends how well-hydrated I am or something, but some days I can pass for being significantly younger than I am. Other days, though, boy scouts offer to help me across the street, calling me ma'am.

Fucking boy scouts.

I'm in a funk today, even though I know I do love Anne Lamott, which should cheer me. And yeah, sometimes that helps a little. She's a cool person with a huge, huge heart, and she makes me laugh so hard I'm afraid my bladder will fail (because having had three kids the bladder will never again be what it used to be). But some days even Anne Lamott and her gracious love isn't enough.

So, I had a great idea for a book, related to all this depression about life and crap. I don't want to give it away, though, so that makes me quite the book tease. I don't want to give it away because it's not a bad idea, if I say so myself, but there's a chance someone more talented will take it and run off with it, leaving me no chance to put it off for another three years and then start writing it, only to abandon it again when another shiny object gets my attention. Then I'll see MY BOOK on bookstore shelves, because someone else will have written MY GREAT IDEA.

So forget that.

Better for you to just know I have this great idea, the kind of idea that would make my friends, husband and doctors a little nervous, considering the subject matter, but a very fine idea nonetheless. Maybe I'll get off my ass and write it, or maybe I'll sit on it. The idea AND my ass.

Only time will tell.

But Anne Lamott. She's great Very inspirational in the way of being a real person, not a self help nutbag. Maybe the both of us can turn lesbian and get married, and I could live off the earnings of her writing. Then, when she's gone, she can will me all her money and her talent, and I'll take over. Because she loved me so, and she'd want it that way.

Or, maybe I should just go eat some chocolate, get over myself, and shut up. I think I will.

One word to describe the current state of my life:

Fractured.

The good Rev. Dan from the UUC asked us this past Monday night how we'd sum up our spiritual lives right now, what sums up our current state, where we are in our journeys. I couldn't come up with the perfect word that night. I had no idea what to say.

Other people piped up with theirs right away, using words like "grateful," and "compassionate," even "glass half full," then there's me, thinking you people are all so much more in touch with yourselves than I am. You're making me look like a complete shit. Great, I thought to myself, I'm even a failure at my own spirituality. How stupid is that?

Rev. Dan leaned forward and looked at me hard, his eyes boring into my skull like a drill through rock. He thought a minute, then suggested the word "struggle" to me, as though he could peer right through my skull into my disordered mind and see the turmoil churning away. It made me shift in my chair a bit, fielding that intense look. I don't even know the guy, you know? And here he was suggesting I'm struggling like a bug on its back.

Still, that didn't completely cover it. Struggle definitely isn't out of the realm, but it's not the best word. After thinking about it overnight it finally came to me: "fractured" fits me better.

It applies for so many reasons: the state of the last year of my marriage, the state of my creative life, etc. It also has applied to me as a person for the first 41 years of my life. Having gone through a complete loss of faith in any good whatsoever in either a supreme deity or in humanity, it fits that as well.

Being a creative person, a complete disorganized train wreck of a human being, I don't think I'll ever achieve a total state of unity. That's the goal, of course, the idea of perfection. And I'll nudge up as closely to it as I can, but I'll never be that person. I have too many interests, there are too many facets of myself. And it's not wrong not to be simple. It's tougher, but it's not wrong. It's me.

That's not to say I don't sometimes envy other people who seem to have it all together. Their organization is inspiring, but you know what? Between you and me, it's also a little limiting, and even claustrophobic. Where's their impulse? Do they ever branch out? I couldn't stand that, being so limited to what you are that you aren't ever someone else, even just for a while. There's no growth in that. Not a lot of interest, either.

I'd rather be a little on the sloppy side than have all my ducks in a proverbial row. If my ducks get out of line sometimes I hardly notice. If I were one of them I'd fly into a rage when life hit a speedbump. I don't need that. A bit of organization? A little more effort keeping my mind on a task? Okay. That's good. But I can't get caught up in the perfection trap. Some would say I'd have an awful long way to go before I'd have to worry about that, and yeah that's so. But I want to state now that I'm not going to go Shaker. It may be a gift to be simple and free, but a little complexity is necessary to nurture creativity.

I'll have to live with some of the scatter-brained nature that goes hand-in-hand with my creativity. I'll have to overlook some mess, some impulse. Even sometimes a lot of impulse. But I want and sincerely need a bit more structure. Not to the extent it's stifling, but enough so I feel I have some grip on my life.

How does this all relate to spirituality? Well, in the UU definition, by "spirituality" they mean "life." Because they don't subscribe to any dogma they leave terms like spirituality open to encompass everyone's belief (or non-belief) system, so their definitions aren't always what you'd expect. I like that about them. I like a lot of things about them, but the complete freedom to choose your own meaning is probably my very favorite aspect of the UUC. It's also probably why it appeals to someone like me, a borderline ADD personality with more neuroses than you can shake a straitjacket at. But there you have it.

Now, knowing what word I feel sums up my life I can work toward my goals.

Phew! One less thing to worry about. I'll take what I can get when I can get it. Consider that my motto.

Speaking of Me 18 Years Ago...

Ye gods, are these photos weird to look at now. Not only was I all blonded up with my super hot late '80s 'do(n't), but I also appear to have a fluffy white thing attacking the back of my head.

My only defense is it was the thing then, okay? Sheesh!

I also have cake smeared all over my face, which totally adds to the overall hotness of the look.

I have a few freakish outtake photos from my wedding day, but the big award winner has to be this picture of my mother giving me a kiss on the cheek. I kind of remember taking this picture, in a vague way, but I don't recall for sure if I was freaked out my mother was kissing me for the first (and, to date, only) time in my life, or if I was feeling a little irregular that day.

It could go either way, really. Note the hunted look in my eye, the fight or flight response in living color.

And my mother? What the hell is that on her head, and who on earth told her those glasses were a good look?

Crikey. It pains me. In so, so many ways.

I'll leave you with this one I do remember. The photographer got really irked my matron of honor and I couldn't stop laughing while attempting to gaze with rapt attention and awe at my engagement ring. I mean, come on! All we were thinking about was the reception, and all that booze.

Ten minutes before this moment she'd just had her hands up my skirt, reinacting the putting on of my garter, while that perv of a photographer snapped a dozen or so pictures.

He so had lesbian fantasies on his mind. Don't tell me he didn't.

Phew. I got that out of my system. Time to return to the 21st century.

Up to now

There's something about investigating your personal ethics and spirituality that makes you start to dig deeply into your life. For me, a lot of that's unpleasant. In fact, the bulk of it is. My childhood was a literal torture, and that set me up for a lifetime of feeling inadequate, scared and very, very angry. I have a lot of the angry pessimist in me. I know I set myself up to have negative things happen to me, mostly because negative things have made up the bulk of my life up to now.

Or, well, negative things have gotten the most attention with me. My life hasn't been without positives. I have three positives under my roof in the form of the three fruits of my loins. And, okay, they're not always the most positive creatures on earth. Some days my teenager makes me question what the hell I was ever thinking, but overall the three of them have some pretty amazing qualities. I just have trouble recalling them from time to time.

The marriage I wrote about a few days ago. Paul and I have been together forever. Twenty two years or so now. Eighteen married and four or five dating/engaged. We got married at the incredibly young age of 23. I'd hit the roof if any of my own children even mentioned the "m" word before at least 28, but look how young I was. Oy.

It wasn't even so much that we were too young to get married, though we were pretty young. It was more that we were too emotionally immature, too lacking in strong life skills to have taken such a momentous step. Neither of us had the best models of marriage in our homes, me way more so than him. I had the incredible obstacle of enduring a torturous childhood, too, without benefit of any sort of counseling or help for it. And it wasn't that help hadn't been offered, but due to the circumstances I wouldn't, or couldn't, take advantage of that offer.

It was naive of us to think life would be smooth. It's been the total opposite, very, very rocky. Every step along the way has been fraught. Nothing was ever easy, or even natural. It's all been a long, hard struggle.

So, naturally, it eventually hit the boiling point. For the past year it's been a roller coaster ride as we both hit the point at which we knew this couldn't continue on this way. But even with that, there was struggle. The resolution hasn't been easy, but now at least the roller coaster ride appears to be finished. But still, it hasn't been ended long enough for either of us not to feel that little twinge of fear we could be put back on it at anytime. That'll take a while longer.

No wonder, at this point in my life, I'm taking serious stock. I hit 40 with hardly a quiver, and it's still not age that's the issue. That's moot, aside from the increasingly annoying notice of little signs like sprouting grey hairs, the tendency to fall asleep a lot easier, and a few aches and pains I didn't have before. The issue is finally having the courage to look back and deal with things, to hold people accountable for the things they've done and to admit my own failures, too. Then, the look ahead, pondering what I'm going to do with the past, how I'm going to use it to propel me into the future and if I can find some way to twist it so there are positives to be found.

Because there are positives to everything, even if they're extremely difficult to see. For me, I have a very rich interior life, a true appreciation for the beauty of art in many forms, and a great love of reading and writing. Having to turn inside for solace the way I did, I in many ways created that framework for myself. It may not have been right why I was forced to do so, but the point to take away is that I did. So in that way I did make a positive of a negative. I turned my need to find safety and comfort into an enriched life of the mind, albeit at a very high cost.

From here on it's what I make of it. It's actually what WE make of it, though I maintain my own very strong separate identity, and vow always to do that. At 41 going on 42 I think it's time I stop carrying childhood baggage, or at least lighten it to the lightest carry-on bag I can. Up 'til now it's been a huge travelling trunk, strapped to my shoulders and virtually padlocked in place. But I've been sawing on those straps, picking at the lock. Enough is enough.

The rest is mine, dammit! My childhood may have largely claimed half my life, but the last time I checked I still had a pulse. I may not have 41 years left, but whatever there is will be walked with a lighter load.

It's the positive among all the negatives. The very best I can do. And it'll be good enough, hard fought as it's been.

Thus begins the journey that is Part II of my life.

My Unitarian Journey: Step 1

Yesterday's service kicked off the 8 week program centered around finding one's own Unitarian identity at the church I've been attending for the last few weeks. I've been looking forward to the start of this since I first found out about it, about two weeks before the course of instruction was to begin.

I consider this a fortuitous bit of serendipity, since it came at exactly the right time for me, a time I was beginning to see was a point of catharsis in my life. In fact, it came at such an opportune time, just after I'd begun investigating the church I'd had an interest in for years, I can hardly think it coincidental. What it properly was I don't know, but call me superstitious if I say I was meant to attend this church at this time.

Go ahead! I dare you...

My last point of catharsis came in 2005, which wasn't that long ago. You'd think the Universe would space these out a little more, wouldn't you? I mean, I'd been going on so damn long, stuck in the same life rut, then BAM! Cartharsis one. A mere three years later (slightly less, actually, if you look at the calendar dates, but let's not split hairs) came Catharsis number two. It makes me wonder if I should start getting nervous now about 2011, or if the Universe isn't quite that predictable. Instead, I'm betting it's just fucking with me, hoping I'll get all organized and think I should expect another change in three years, then leave me hanging for another 20 or 30.

It's sneaky that way.

Anyway, the point of yesterday's sermon was that we should begin looking at our life goals, pondering our thoughts on spirituality and our ethics structure. I have a week to consider that before we move onto the next phase. I don't have to have it all decided, but I should at least have a grip on a few things, which is way more than I can honestly say I had coming into this.

So, I have to ask myself, what are my thoughts on spirituality? I'm thinking that all hinges on my belief, or non-belief, in a God, and how I look on all of that sort of God stuff. Do I believe there's a God? I know I don't believe in the idea of the grey-haired sage sitting on a throne up in the clouds somewhere. I also don't believe if I pray to a God he'll let my favorite baseball team win. I had proof of that last season when my White Sox played worse than my son's Little League team. But I digress.

I don't believe in the Christian idea of a God. I don't believe in a personal God who intercedes for us on little everyday things. S/he may tune in, and may even be moved to care about humanity, but God does not have an impact on our daily lives. This I've decided. Nor does S/He expect us to confess every little stupid thing we do, to report in every time we lust after, say, British actors or something. Who'd have the time to listen to all that crap? Sure, it'd be titillating for about the first million years or so, but after that? It would get so damn old: "Yeah, yeah, yeah... So you stole a piece of candy, you called your mom a bitch and you think the neighbor's hot. Now go away and leave me alone. I need to have my beard trimmed."

On the other hand, I can consider there's potentially a power of some sort out there somewhere, whether it's a Creator or not I can't say, but something put the Universe here. After all, how do you answer questions such as what was here before the present Universe, and how did that get here? What happened that allowed us to live, is there other life out there somewhere, and if so how did that get there? Oy. Around this point in the thought process my brain usually explodes, a messy and decidedly unappetizing event.

The simple answer is: I don't know. We'll never know. But could there be a Higher Power? Yes, there could. Can I prove there isn't? No, I can't.

So okay, one item off the list: God? - CHECK!

I don't particularly like calling HER "God," because that's been so over-used, but it's really easier sometimes than coming up with a whole new term. Usually, though, I'll refer to that vague potentially Higher Power as the Universe. By that I don't necessarily mean Saturn, or Uranus (rim shot), but instead the Creative Force behind whatever the hell caused the great expanse of the Universe as we know it to come into existence, and what guides the course of the "future."

Alright. That's out of the way.

Part two: Ethics. A much bigger kettle of fish, in some ways, or at least one with more by-laws and details. I think I'll save that one for later in the week, when I'm better rested and have had more caffeine. For now, figuring out the God thing seems a big enough victory. It's all about pacing.

Why church-y people crack me up.

I've been sitting here at Panera all day, working. I ate my breakfast bagel here, and my lunch half sandwich and cup of soup.

This morning there was a small group of ladies here, chatting about the business of their church. It was all pretty straightforward stuff, nothing remarkable, a low drone in the background while I worked. But then one of them left, and the two remaining ladies (and I use the term loosely) proceeded to pull her and several other ladies presumably at their church to shreds.

Huh.

And, when the ladies left one of them looked at the mess her group left at the table, remarking on it, then she proceeded to say, "Oh well. Who cares?"

I'll take a guess, maybe the guy who has to clean up after you?

What would Jesus do? Apparently he'd shrug and leave like she did, because after all she was a church lady. She should know.

And people call me a heathen.

Nothing says "Love" like V.D.

Okay. Deep breath.

I didn't post yesterday, and it was a purposeful not posting. I have some mixed feelings about Valentine's Day, some mixed feelings about the nature of love at all, to be truthful.

My husband and I came through a really rough 2007 scarred and fractured, as near entering a divorce court as it gets. Now it's 2008, a new year, and we're doing what pretty much every marriage does at one point in its existence. We're giving it one more shot, throwing ourselves into it and trying to save it in a sort of last-ditch effort to keep the family together.

We've been married 18 years now, dating four years before that. That's a lot of history/herstory, a lot in common, and also a lot of fetid water under the bridge on both sides. We also have three children who may not always be model kids, but they are at heart really worthwhile human beings. It's not that I think kids can't adjust to a divorce situation, because I believe it's possible they can. But I also know it's ideal to keep the family unit together. Ideal, though not always possible.

The whole subject of marriage depresses me in a whole lot of ways. It isn't what I ever thought it would be. It's disappointing so much of the time. It's boring, it's routine, it distinctly unromantic. Between two people with stubborn dispositions it can also go South and stay there a remarkably long time. It's possible to get in a rut so deeply you can't dig out of it on your own. Sometimes you have to look outside for assistance, and that's what we're doing, going the counseling route.

It isn't that we argue. It's more a problem that we don't, that we haven't ever. We don't fight outright. We bury our anger, couching it in passive-aggression. In case you're wondering, that's about the worst thing married people can do. It's better to duke it out, to air your grievances in a fair and civilized way. That's in the ideal situation. In our case deep depression was involved, disabling depression, to some degree on both sides. That makes the rut even deeper, even harder to dig out of on your own.

In an environment like this everyone suffers. It may not be as obvious how they do, but they certainly do.

But we're going forward, with a little help. It's going okay so far, but I'm not sure we've really been tested in this "new" relationship yet. It'll come, and that'll be the true measure of how things have changed, and if they have.

So far, so good.

Belief Net

You gotta love modern technology! Don't know what religion you are? Uncertain what path you should take?

Well, here ya go.

And here were my results:


1.
Unitarian Universalism (100%)
2.
Neo-Pagan (96%)
3.
New Age (96%)
4.
Liberal Quakers (88%)
5.
Mahayana Buddhism (88%)
6.
Taoism (81%)
7.
Hinduism (75%)
8.
Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (73%)
9.
New Thought (72%)
10.
Scientology (70%)
11.
Theravada Buddhism (69%)
12.
Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (68%)
13.
Secular Humanism (68%)
14.
Sikhism (59%)
15.
Jainism (58%)
16.
Reform Judaism (56%)
17.
Bahá'í Faith (41%)
18.
Orthodox Quaker (41%)
19.
Nontheist (36%)
20.
Orthodox Judaism (24%)
21.
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (23%)
22.
Seventh Day Adventist (19%)
23.
Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (17%)
24.
Eastern Orthodox (15%)
25.
Islam (15%)
26.
Roman Catholic (15%)
27.
Jehovah's Witness (11%)


So yeah, I think I'm pretty much on the right track.

People still suck, but I'm getting a little beyond that

I'm really not sure how Zen it is to bitch and moan about people and what crap they can be, but you know, I'm human. Zen Buddhism isn't so much a goal to me, anyway, as an ideal of what life should be like, if everything on earth were perfect. Which we all know it isn't, though we do have those shining moments of less craptasticness from time to time, those few, fleeting moments in which we almost feel we could dare to dream. But then the Coyote misses the Road Runner again, falls off the cliff, and gets his brains squashed by an anvil.

Le Coyote c'est moi.

I didn't really come here to bitch today, though. I swung by to report on having attended UUC services again this morning, despite the bone-chilling temperatures (wind chills of - 30)(!!). It was damn cold in the church today, too. It's an old building and furnaces build in the stone age weren't meant to cope with the effects of global warming, apparently. So we all shivered our way through the service. If we were Catholic we could consider the experience a mortification to the body, and thus look forward to the prospect of another hour off purgatory. Not being Catholic, we hunker down like forest animals in hibernation, looking for something to take our minds off how chilly it is. Luckily, there was enough going on today I barely noticed when I lost feeling in my toes.

Today's service was, I thought, pretty entertaining. Rev. Dan went over the plans for the upcoming big series of services/classes on all aspects of the UUC's approach to finding one's own spiritual path. He illustrated each week's plan with a sort of mini-tutorial on what we can expect, including a report on the week we'll be concentrating on the mind/body connection. I've never seen seated yoga performed in a church environment before, but I can say I've seen it now. Yep, I think this church is just where I need to be. Any church that unconventional gets my vote.

No new reading to report on. Grad school's effectively sucking all the free time out of my schedule. But stay tuned. Things are never boring here. That I can guarantee.