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.

Egomaniacs, and the people who tolerate them

Today's lesson, a lot of people suck. Talk amongst yourselves...

People can be really selfish, and I'm not exempting myself from that, either. I know it's a natural thing to look out for number one, but I'm also not exaggerating when I say that's not my natural style. Because of my background I've turned into a generally selfless sort of person, but that also means selfless to the extent of letting others run me over. Go ahead! Use me! It's okay. In fact, I insist!

Oy.

Of all my flaws I need to work through this year, this is one of the top three deserving of serious time and attention. Giving of yourself is a great thing. Giving more of yourself than you should isn't. There's a fine line there, and I've never quite recognized it. That's because, I know now, people in my life didn't respect that line with me when I was growing up. They took more from me than they should have.

Whoa, what an understatement!

So it becomes a pattern, that giving. The self gets buried underneath the desire to be overly compliant (because that's how you survived when you were little) until it becomes destructive to one's soul. You let others do as they wish without standing up and saying THAT'S NOT RIGHT.

Enough of that. Enough.

How to harden myself appropriately, without erecting a castle wall is the problem I haven't worked out yet. It's my natural reaction to hole away when life gets rough. It may take a while to figure out exactly how to change that. It'll take a lot of outside help, but I know it's a very doable thing. It'll just take a lot of help and advice along the way.

That's one reason I'm so addicted to self help books. Though a lot of them are the same trite crap repeated over and over, with a different twist added, a few of them actually have kernels of wisdom. Self help books are a pretty good thing, but to tell you the truth, I think I'll have had more than enough of them by the end of this year. At some point it'll be nice not to need that crutch, or maybe just not to need it so regularly.

Another highly recommended bit of advice is to work on expanding your social network and the number of satisfying activities you're involved in. Hence the UUC endeavor, both for the community and the spiritual elements. I think they'll be key to helping me find ways to accomplish worthwhile things that are really helpful to others. It's a satisfying feeling helping other people. It gives you a boost that takes you out of yourself and your own problems, giving you a sense of real worth and purpose. But even with that, there's a line to be drawn, a point at which you're giving all you can. You also have to take good care of yourself.

That's a good thing to end with. Take good care of yourself.

Here, take a scorecard

It's fun being me! =:-D

Nah, it's not so bad. I'm doing better today than I was yesterday evening, when flames shot out of my eyes, incinerating all around me. That proved to be a short-lived emotion, lasting about as long as it took me to rant about it.

Journals are great things. Especially when you write them for the world to see, so everyone around you knows so much about you. But to tell you the truth, it makes them more uncomfortable than it does me. Weird, but true. I get the benefit of unloading all this stuff, ranting away like a contented, angry thing, but they often have to walk past without their eyes popping out, staring.

It's so much worse for them. That makes me feel better.

I got another bonus day off today due to the forecasted 11" of snow we're supposed to have before the end of the day. Grad school's cancelled, too! Hurrah! =8-D

Happy, happy, joy, joy.

That means no more excuses not to do some homework. Yeah, that's okay. I have lots to read so I'll just put another pot of coffee on and dig into it. Oh, after I go shovel the driveway so it doesn't pile up too monstrously high. My husband requested I do that this morning, before he left for work.

Honestly, I'm the most unfortunate soul on earth.

I may be back later, especially if I get more flame shooting out of my eyes. I hate when that happens. Man!

Hangin' in there...

xo

P.S.: I found my written journal! It was on my desk... No wonder I couldn't find it.

Mood Swing

I'm not feeling very forgiving right now, contrary to my post earlier in the day. In fact, I'm feeling rather outraged.

Total mood swing. From what I've learned I know to honor the feeling. Honor it by saying, "I see your eyes have turned red, your face is all stern and your jaw is set. Yes, you are one pissed off bitch."

Acknowledge it, deep breath in, exhale.

And I'm still pissed.

I'm pissed at all the injustice, all the crap thrown at me in my life. My most productive outlet is my creative one, and since I don't know where I left my damn written journal (which is where this rant properly goes) I'm writing it here.

Good mood gone. Grr.

Earlier, to change the topic to something better, I wrote a bit about last Sunday's UUC service in my journal dedicated to that particular journey. Though there's some overlap here with what I've already written, I still don't feel that's quite a done deal. I didn't write here, for instance, about the reading last Sunday. It was from Henry David Thoreau, the quote about not wanting to die realizing you've never lived:

" I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, , and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. "

Living deliberately is so vital to me, even if doing so guarantees a more emotional roller coaster of a life. The alternative is the half life so many other people live, comfortably set up, worry-free, being taken care of by other people, letting everything important in life just pass right on by.

Do I want that? To be honest, sometimes I do. The life I live is so often much more tortured than the average person's. I always suspected that was so, and recently I had that suspicion confirmed. Creative types lead more screwed up lives. I think we have more layers of feeling, more soft underbelly, and there are always those out there waiting to claw at it, to gnaw at it, biting through muscle and bone.

I'd say that's a total mood swing but again, recognize its right to be, acknowledge it, let it flow right over. Hope tomorrow's a better day.

What is forgiveness?

Dalai Lama I ain't. For one thing, I'm way too vain to ever shave off my auburn hair. I paid a lot of money for this color, honey. It's not going anywhere anytime soon.

But the weird thing is, whether you're His Holiness the Dalai Lama or nobody in particular, we all struggle with the same life stuff, to varying degrees. The D.L. is more advanced on the path to enlightenment, but he's also a human being. I'm betting he swears when he stubs his toe on a door, just like the rest of us common people. The difference is he automatically forgives the door for hurting him, and himself for not paying enough attention. The rest of us? Not so much.

Goddamn door.

Forgiveness is something we all struggle with. I think that's partly because we aren't quite sure what's required of us, if it means just letting go of past crap or if it also means taking on a share of the blame, by default. Our pride (which stems from our ego, now, doesn't it) balks at the suggestion WE are on par with the people who've done us wrong in life, and that pride/ego can't just let go of the convenience of blame so easily. That leads to grudges, and grudges lead to long-term resentment. And that leads to a mighty heavy load to bear, a load that affects every other part of our lives whether we see it or not. It's a dark mark on the soul, or if you aren't inclined to believe in a soul, the psyche.

But there are some times, though, we are completely innocent of blame. Children who are abused and terrorized are not to blame for what perpetrators do to them. They're completely innocent. So would be the mentally impaired, the unarmed, anyone without adequate defense attacked without provocation by someone with more power. That inequality exempts the innocent from blame, but the bummer of it is resentment held even by the innocent is a terribly heavy weight to bear. Even the innocent must suffer. The Universe doesn't play favorites.

So, what's the answer? It's not an easy one. It still requires a measure of what they call "eating crow" in a lot of cases, admitting complicity in your conflict with another person. In all cases it requires letting go of the grudge, the defense mechanism you picked up when you hardened yourself against the person who harmed you.

Funny, but that grudge can become so comfortable. It wears on you, fitting closely to you like a second skin. You wouldn't think so, but it does. It has the illusion of giving you power, evening out the field. But it really doesn't. All it actually does is pull you down to a level lower than you deserve.

Rising above means letting go of all that weight, but it will never mean forgetting. You can't wipe out memories, well, unless you're me and you're so busy you can barely remember yesterday. Those scars from the past just don't go away.

You'd think we'd remember that before knowingly inflicting pain on others, or acting in ways we know will likely result in harm for ourselves. But we so often don't. There's that damned EGO again, that cocky S.O.B. But it's also that same EGO that is an integral part of ourselves. He's like the annoying relative you're ashamed of, but you can't deny the blood link. You can cut him off, stop sending him Christmas cards and not invite him to the reunion, but he's still your kin. He's like herpes. He may be in remission but he's there, dude. He's there. And part of his blood runs through your veins.

A good argument for a complete blood transfusion, eh?

Knowing the right thing to do is one thing. Doing it is quite another. I can blah, blah, blah all I want about knowing I have to dump my baggage, but actually letting it go is another thing. I'm thinking it's a process, not so much something you usually wake up and decide to do. That probably happens sometimes, but more often than not we consciously decide we have to do this, we hem and haw, and we have a few false starts. Then, we either say screw it, I'm keeping this load a while longer (despite the fact I'm well aware it's doing me harm) or we start letting it go. It may not feel so comfortable at first. The weight's a bitch but it's been there so long it's familiar. A person feels more vulnerable for a while without that armor, but in reality the process can only make you stronger.

So I tell myself, and so I know to be true. Too bad I'm so disgustingly human. Vile sometimes, isn't it? Next time around maybe I'll come back as a plant, something with less conflict going on, with a less complex brain. Like some of my relatives, but not that hick. Please dear god not that hick...

Here's to working out issues, eh? Life can be so damn fun sometimes!

Go ye forth.

She's up! She's down! Who can keep track?

Balance. Say it with me! Baaaaaaalaaaaance....

Deep breath.

Okay, now you can exhale.

All three kids are home with the pestilence today - fever, headache, cough, sore tummy. I'm doing my best not to breathe in their vicinity, because I cannot afford to get sick. The fate of the free world rests on this!

The good thing about the kids being sick (did I really just say that?) is the unexpected bonus day off work. I need homework time because I've been rather slack in that area since the semester started. I need to do reading, and lots of it. I also need lots of coffee to stay awake for the loads of reading. Library and information studies is definitely my thang, but like all disciplines there are some damned dry scholars writing articles that are just way too damn long. That gets me to another subject, my rant against scholarly writing and the "publish or perish" environment at universities, but I'll let that one go for now. As any good teacher will tell you, there's such a thing as too many topics in one piece. And like any good student, I enjoy abusing rules.

Anyway, Monday is here, following a generally pretty good weekend. I put in some hours at the library on Saturday, to make up for the evening the snow kept me from getting there, and I hosted a concert (folk/acoustic guitar) on Sunday. I submitted my column to my editor on time, I blogged, and I even managed to watch the Super Bowl, though I don't care at all about the sport (but there are men in tights, which has its advantages).

I also spent a portion of last evening reading Oprah's latest selection, Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose. So far, it's more than any one person may ever want to know about the ego. It's enlightening to know how much the ego really does control us, but Tolle's style isn't the most dynamic in the world. He doesn't crack a single ass joke, for one thing. Totally serious, that one.

The Oprahites will eat this one up, I know they will. And there's some good stuff in it, a lot of things the modern world really needs to know. For one thing, we're all way too selfish. We suck in so many ways. But we're not beyond redemption. Well, some of us are, but I won't point any fingers.

Interesting to know Oprah's into this sort of thing. I mean, it's so out of character...

NOT!

I'll read along, check her message boards, and if the Universe deems it necessary I'll try to catch Eckhart Tolle when he inevitably comes on her show to talk about all this stuff. Going only by his cover photo I think he just may be a garden gnome, at least a younger version without the white beard. That's what he reminds me of, a sage garden gnome. Either that or the Lucky Charms guy. We'll see how he looks in person.

Now I'm outta here. I'm obviously not doing homework when I just said that's the good thing about today. Time to put away the shiny objects, put in the coffee I.V. and get down to reading about information studies.

Go ye forth and do good works. Or something.

Ah, that's better. At least a little.

I attended Unitarian Universalist services again this morning, and I'm just that much more convinced this is my path. I love the idea they welcome everyone, regardless of who they are and what they believe. I respect their love of healthy debate and lack of any hard and fast rules about what truth is. I also appreciate their dedication to community service, as well as their political activism. And I know it's only been two weeks, but I've been interested in this church for a while now. Before I started noticing them I was into the transcendentalists, and the UUC philosophy is really pretty doggone similar to that. In fact, most of the transcendentalists were members of the UUC.

Everything this group stands for seems to directly touch on either a pre-existing belief of mine or a resolution for something I'd like to change about myself. They encourage individualism but also foster a sense of community. As far as religions go I think this one's as nearly perfect as any.

Fortuitously, in two weeks they're going to start on a series instructing new members on the basic principles of the religion, through an examination of finding one's personal path. Each week will take on a different tenet, and while I can't attend most of the Monday night "companion" sessions, since I have grad school, I can at least attend as many of the Sunday services as I'm able.

In eight weeks I should have at least the beginning of a handle on exactly what my spirituality entails, and a working knowledge of what I think I may believe (always subject to change, of course). That's pretty mind-boggling if you think about it, considering I haven't managed to accomplish that in 41 years of searching.

They don't call this a mid-life crisis for nothing, do they?! Sheesh. I didn't think I'd buy into all the "oh I'm in my 40s so I better have significant upheaval in all aspects of my life.." But look at me. I'm a self help book junkie. I'd be embarrassed to count the number of these books I've either bought or checked out of the library in the last six months. I'm on the cusp of joining a church community. I keep more journals than I can even keep track of. In fact, I need a journal to keep track of my journals. Now THAT, my friends is pathetic.

Of course that's not the end of it, but only the beginning. Life is dynamic, and it'll be an ongoing process between the study and all the soul searching. None of this will be easy. But still, a beginning is more than I had going in, so I'm really pretty content with that.

I'll post here, week by week, as I go through the program. I'll of course keep copious notes in my journal, too. This time it'll be the black one, the leather one with the really cool, handmade looking paper. I got that one at Half Price Books for a mere five bucks. I'm nothing if not thrifty.

Okay, to be honest, I'm not usually thrifty. This time I just got lucky.

Speaking of lucky, wish me some.

A long week, still no enlightenment in sight

A little better this week mood-wise, but still I find myself invariably clawing my way from day to day. I'm reading lots of self help books, filled with all the usual platitudes about finding happiness from within, not relying on others, all that stuff. Yeah, that makes sense. It does, but it's more than a little depressing to me.

Why?

Well, I guess because like so many people I wanted to think friends and those who care for you are the most instrumental people on the road to happiness, and that LOVE was the big, universal cure. But sometimes you find yourself numb to it all, disillusioned and just plain tired. Actually, the word LOVE makes me want to puke right about now, mostly because I realize its limitations and now have to acknowledge how I love myself is actually more important than any love anyone else bears for me. Me first, you second. You can't depend on anything else, and how depressing is that.

That runs contrary to my personality. I've never been big on self love, self esteem, pretty much any of the selves save self deprecation. That one I do pretty doggone well. But self love? (And no, I'm not talking masturbation, either... Sorry to burst that bubble.) I mean self love as in accepting yourself, who you are, your limitations, and being your own source of strength, getting yourself through bad times and creating happiness from within.

Isn't it easier for someone else to do that for you? I mean, come on! I'm busy just doing homework, and I have to hold myself up, too?

That sucks.

Obviously, I'm nowhere near becoming enlightened. Ah, I take that back. Enlightenment comes through suffering, through disillusion and through that one grows to develop wisdom. And no, I didn't come up with that. A very dear friend, and a psychologist, did. That was her best advice when I told her how exhausted I am, how disillusioned and tired of waiting for the Universe to even out the playing field for me and show me just a smidge of compassion.

Still waiting for that, and I think it'll be a while. I may as well go brew a pot of coffee.