Morning Meandering - Facing the blank page

 I find it funny - sometimes in a "are you kidding me?!" kind of way - that I have all these thoughts and ideas and plans for writing as I do my morning connections, and wash the dishes, and take a shower, and what have you. But then I face the blank empty page and the things I was so sure I was going to write - the thoughts which would not get out of the way when I was trying to do other things - simply vanish. Name on the tip of my tongue, put Baby back into the corner, aww shucks nothing to see here, gone.

And sometimes, if I can remember what I was feeling so passionate about, I can get the words and the conviction back. They flow through righteously. 

And sometime, I continue to stare at the page, and then just start writing something else, hoping it'll be worthy, hoping it's something I actually want to say. 

I've been doing my best (and I've been doing a decent job of it) to just put the words out there, you know? Write it down and then let it go. But honestly, for every post that gets published, there is at least one unpublished, probably unfinished, post. In fact, I'd started a similar writing on this a month or two ago...

"So, I like to think that this is normal for any writer - many writers? maybe even just people in general. The number of blog drafts is at least double the number of blog posts. Thoughts I started, but either couldn't reach a satisfying conclusion, or couldn't figure out what I was trying to say. In some ways they're taunting - in that whole, I thought you were just going to post stuff and not care if it has a relevant or impactful message? Right? Huh? it's like I'm judging myself for judging my writing. But it's not really judging - it's evaluating? It's like NOT blurting out every thought that passes through my mind."

And as I write this and format it and get ready to read this, I kind of lose interest. Because it's not what I really wanted to say, and it's triggering a lot of other thoughts - like cycles and other people. 

But it did lead me to editing/publishing something I'd previously written and left simmering. And there was such a feeling of rightness, or readiness, of finality after I added a couple more lines to it. 

And then a week later (it is at least a week later since I started this), I am able to reconnect to read it and say - well, it may not be what I was chasing when I started, but I think this pretty much sums up what I really want to say about it now.

And I breathe in. And I breathe out. 

And I hit the publish button.

Today's Happiness Practice - Accepting Myself - Again.

 I love cycles. 

Until they relate to myself and my feelings and realizing things that I thought I had "conquered" are things I need to work on - work through - again. 

And again.

And AGAIN.

I mean, it makes sense. Intellectually. Every day is a new day. Every moment brings new connections and new adventures and new thoughts. When the old is cleared out, something else comes in.

And I don't live in a vacuum. So. Things I have figured out in a safe, secluded home environment when I am feeling healthy and I am well rested and I've done my exercising and connecting, are things I need to work through again when I am in a stressful situation. 

Or when I'm with friends.

Or when I'm with my partner.

Or when I'm at work.

Or when the butterfly flaps it wings three times when flying widdershins around a purple poppy. 

Things constantly change and grow and move and shift, even if it's slowly. Some fast and some slow. And maybe it's the slow things that are the worst. Because those are the things we can't point to and say, "Oh! That's why I suddenly feel this way!" We just are fine one day and freaking the heck out the next. Because a rock finally slipped into the ocean somewhere and cast reverberation throughout the stratosphere. 

So, today's happiness practice is accepting myself in this environment. Today. As things are happening today. Acknowledging  my reactions today, determining where I could have been better. Congratulating myself on where I stood and fulfilled my personal definition of happy and compassionate and beautiful.  And loving myself through it all.

Today is a very good day. Today I have permission to be myself, to live and love and experience and step away from. Today I get to say, yup, this is what I'm feeling, and I think this is why. And I get to figure out how to meld that in with the day's plans and the people I'm with so I feel we are all accepted and loved. 

And every day in every way, I and my household and my family and my friends and my world are more and more blessed. 

So may it be. May it be so. Amen.

Morning meandering - a cacophony (or symphony?) of thoughts

 Such a myriad of thoughts running through my head:

* living within this body is a daily practice; and just like brains or sexuality, there is no one true, set in stone, label that will follow this body for the entirety of its existence.

* if we're truly celebrating ALL diversity, why isn't there a white hetro-sexual male day?

* why does rooting for one person, team, group, perspective, political ideal automatically mean hate for all of the rest?

* We as human beings are still used to being in survival mode. It's how it's been for ages, yeah? Eons. But the human race has well and truly survived. Now it is time to turn to thriving mode. We don't need to spread or conquer. We've built our houses. Now it's time to make them comfortable. We've conquered all the lands (or most of them). The last frontier isn't space, it's inner being. Though I hesitate to say that because then there's going to be all sorts of machines and tests and pills and people trying to quantify and exploit the inner world.

* Why do I feel like I wasn't taught enough growing up? Sure there was math and english, history and social studies. But history is being rewritten and unwhite-washed; they changed math (happily one can't change how math actually works, simply how it's approached?); and honestly, what I learned in the class about politics doesn't seem to be relevant anymore. 

* was there a lot more respect for people 100 years ago? Even 50 years ago? Or were the communication distances simply farther apart, not instant? By the time we were able to express things, it could be done in a more "civilized" language? Or did people simply think differently because communication took longer, and thus required (or there was more time for) more thought?

* the coolest thing, to me, about the - i'm not sure how to phrase it - awareness "revolution" - the awareness of all the different ways that people feel (or don't feel) sexual and romantic attraction; the awareness of how many different ways people take in information, process it, express themselves; the awareness of how many different body types there are - and how many different ways we respond to pressure and medications and stimulus and herbs - the coolest thing about this awareness era is I don't feel like I have to fight anything anymore. I'm not breaking new ground when I express whatever facet of myself is feeling most triggered/stimulated today, because there's already something out there. I'm not leading a revolution or planting a flag or forcing awareness on anyone, not even myself. Which is awesome. Because everything is fluid. Everything! Labels help me work through a specific aspect of self, but then that label dissolves or is no longer relevant. 

I am looking forward to the day when there is no labelling, no coming out, no "normal". Where the journey is known to be all about figuring ourselves out, what we like, what we don't - from foods to clothes to people to how we contribute and connect with the world - each individually. There will be no freak flags to fly.

But then, will we still feel lost and alone because there is no banner of identity under which we can gather? 

Ugh. Trees are much easier than people. If you need me, I'll be out hugging one.

I hope your having a restful mind day,

-Lila

 

But wait, there's more!

 A friend and I were looking at things that are "blue shield." As I understand it, these are devices or objects which eminate frequencies to either counteract or overwhelm the EMF that is surrounding most of our lives these days.

The particular ones i looked at said they emitted frequencies that are similair to what is found in nature, and that our own... frequencies? energies?... would focus on or connect to those instead of to the more damaging EMF around us. 

And it sounds lovely, right? Nature frequencies. Yay! 

And I'm all about focusing on what brings you joy, on what works for you, on what you want. Well, on what I want.

But at the same time...

If you're like me, you have a cabinet full of pills and supplements you take every day. Aids to help the brain and body get through the day feeling a way we'd like to feel, aiding those things the body can no longer produce, be it hormones or hair growth or serotonin. Every time I set up those pills, I just sigh and want to cry a little. It seems ridiculous that I have to fill my body with foreign substances in order to feel closer to happy each day.

And I get the same feeling of frustration from the blue shield thing. Let's fill the air around us with MORE frequencies. Let's make it so crowded that, sure, we feel more energized and more in tune with our bodies, but we also feel claustrophobic and pressed and like there's no elbow room? To me (and this is probably just me) it sounds like the cure only contributes to other dis-eases. 

So what is the answer? I love my technology, I gotta say. I even have a way with it. It is just energy, after all. Granted it's energy programmed by humans, so...

But I also want peace in my brain. I want to feel space. I want the connection with nature to be what I choose. I want...

I want...

I want fewer products and more me?

ask not what this country can give to you

So, when travelling to a new place in the states, or even when going into a new store, I have often had a feeling of hesitancy. Of being a foreigner. Of wondering who I'm going to offend by going in the wrong direction or getting the rules wrong. "They will all laugh at you!" 

Now, when travelling to a new country, there is the expectation of difference. There is the knowledge that as soon as I open my mouth, I'm going to be heard to be a foreigner, There's a kind of freedom in that. People don't expect me to fit in, so I don't have to? And I don't expect them to be what I'm used to, so the curiosity and exploring part is triggered already. 

However, in my latest travels, it's the strangest thing... there is no feeling of strangeness.  I still expect the names to be different, the words that fall upon my ears to be incomprehensible. But trees are trees. And the grass is green. There's gluten free things on the shelf, recycling to figure out, and the wine bottles are the same shape in this country as in the other. 

I realized that since this trip was more about my friends than it was about the country, I didn't come in with a desire to be dazzled or swept off my feet, or shown marvels. No fairy tale expectations. no secret yearnings of Hallmark moments or doorways to fairy lands, or discoveries by famous local musicians. This was never one of the "must see before I die" places of my heart. So there's a lot less riding on the visit.

And I also realized, this morning, that without that, that "wow me" setting turned on, I am interacting more freely with the environment. I am connecting and contributing? I am bringing myself to this country, as well as being a tourist in it. 

Truthfully, I am not acting much different here than I do at home - I am taking pictures of beautiful things, pausing to listen to birds and watch cats, admiring the clouds floating by, humming to the wind, touching trees and smiling at strangers. Maybe that's the thing. I am interacting as me, instead of holding myself apart, expecting to be amazed or dazzled or made a victim of.

And maybe that's the secret of any visit or interaction, with the known and unknown. "I gotta be me." And they will be they. And together, we will create a new being, a new moment, a new event, of us.

Morning Meandering - May 13

 Oh my goodness, is routine helpful.

When on vacation, I've heard, and said, oh try this - you're on vacation. Oh, do that, you're on vacation! Like it's a reason to through daily routines and dietary preferences out the window.

But really, what does that create? Well, if you're like me, it creates a lot of discomfort and confusion. 

I have learned which morning and evening (finally!) routines help me feel like the best me. A me I like to be. Even during difficult days. They don't "fix" everything, but they help dress me spiritually, mentally, emotionally and often physically.

I have learned which foods feel worse than others in my system. What certain teas or drinks will do to and for me. What kind of exercise is great and what kind of stretches can help alleviate the TOO MUCH!

Now, when travelling, I don't always get the choice of foods. I might not have the same space and I certainly won't have the same set up as at home for my stuff and my exercises. The schedules aren't necessarily under my control. I'm "stuck" with the choice of clothes and items I decided to pack. And there may be decisions to do events or go on adventures despite a low energy level or physical discomfort. Because I'm there and i want to. 

But it is so helpful to keep in mind what kind of morning routine is helpful - connecting, waking up the body, waking up the brain. Which teas are helpful. And closing down for the night, since the days can be full of stimulus and emotional overwhelm. 

So yeah, when I hear, in my head (or hear myself say) - oh, but you're on vacation! I'm trying to remember to add the answer "Yes, and I want to enjoy the whole thing!"

Daily Meandering - Normal equals Trauma?

I had a lovely childhood. I know I was loved; my parents told me I could be whatever I wanted; I was given many good hugs and music and skills for believing in myself. I do believe my parents did their best every day.

And still, as I learn more about myself, I sometimes look back at my childhood and feel traumatized. 

One of my books, Not Really a Murder Mystery, has a main character who was a victim of torture.  - I don't like those things, by the way. I have a difficult time reading them myself, and honestly, the only way I could do that to one of my characters was to say she was so busy believing in her rescue that she didn't actually feel the pain. And honestly, whenever I reread it, one of my first thoughts is, wow, a psychologist would have a field day with this. I even had a reader tell me that I did a good job describing the mental state of a the victim afterward, and she wasn't going to ask what I had been through.

To my knowledge, I haven't actually been through any kind of physical abuse or intentional harm at the hands of another being. (Cats excluded.) But I have never, ever liked the idea of torture. 

On Facebook the other day, I read a snippet of someone saying their parents had gaslit them a lot growing up. That made me think too.

Because I can say that part of my childhood memories, or trauma, is feeling like I never understood what people wanted, what or why they were doing things, what was going on around me. One of my oft used phrases these days is "Did that make sense?" because I'm not confident that I am expressing myself in a way that is understood. Sure, we're all using the same words, but our definitions are often drastically different. (Like saying something is bad. Is it really bad? As in not good? Or is it bad, as in to be admired?) 

In how many ways was I harmed, unintentionally, by my parents and teachers and family's and friends' desire to comfort and care and keep me safe? By someone else exclaiming that their truth was THE truth? by the insistence or expectation - even of myself about myself - that I be a certain type of person, act a specific way, perform within these parameters, fit into this mold?

In how many ways am I experiencing trauma reactions because I never have, even when I tried really hard, fit the "norm"?