The Little Things - a ramble

The sight of my keyboard sitting casually next to my drum makes me deliriously happy.   And I realize Richard Carlson has it wrong.  We should sweat the small stuff.

The "big" things are nothing but a whole bunch of little things, built one on top of the other.  Whether it's training for sports, or learning a new mental skill, we do it step by step.  Learning to walk leads to hand eye coordination leads to sharp shooters and artists.  Every journey starts with the first step.  A beach is a pile of individual grains of sand.  It's not all the straws, but the final straw.

Physics or metaphysics, life all comes down to one, single, little thing.

Experts, the ones we really admire, can pick out all the little things: the type of cocoa bean and where it's from; the combination of spices; the single note in the chord.  It is the little hidden jokes that make the whole show (or book) funny.  It is the single line or thought which, replayed, brings the story together.  The taste, the instrument, the voice, the color, the stitch or the smell.  The little, individual, thing.

If it weren't for the little things, we would have no variety.  Without variety, we would have no favorites.  Granted, we might then have no communication issues, because we would all be seeing the same thing with the same appreciation.  But then, we would have no individuality either, and therefore, we would not be human.

Being human is all about the little things.

It's the little things that make something not exactly right, whether it's the lyrics in the second verse, or the too perfect angle of the roof.  We chide ourselves because we're judging.  We don't wish to settle, but we know there is no "perfect" match, whether it's in parts, or partners.

But there is an individual perfection - in the combination of the little things.  And that's what we're really looking for.  A look within blue eyes, to match the smile on ruby lips, to go with the brown hair that parts in exactly the right direction, accompanied by the smell, the voice, the habits, the phrasing, the way of walking, the laugh, the height.  It's all the little things together, answering to all of our senses.

My keyboard makes me happy, as it sits near my drum for me to see while I type on another keyboard which also makes me giddily happy - because of the way it feels, the way it sound, the way it looks, and of course the fact it's part of a happy little laptop.  It is very near to perfection.  Which means to me my future happiness must include keeping these things (the keyboard, the drum, the laptop) near.  And to keep these things near, I must use them.  Make them part of my life, not just trophies on the shelf, or against the wall.  Otherwise the little things become big things, mementoes.  Things of the past.  Signposts, sure, but distractingly full of little "was"es and might-have-beens.   Sad, poignant, over-with little things.

I want my little things to be moving forward.  In use.  Constantly improving.  And happy.  Like me.

The magic, the life, the happy is in the little things.

I hope you have a great day, every little moment!

-Lila

Soapbox of Perception: Fairy Tales & REAL true love

If you have known love, you have known the pain of loss.  Whether that love is familial or passionate; codependent or independent; for people, places or things; there's always pain when there is separation.

Love is painful because there is a balance.  For all of the height and security and joy in love, there is an equal depth and despair and desolation in love's loss.  Connections and faith aside, the lack of love's physical presence is wrenching.  If our senses are unable to feast upon the object of our love, we are bereft.   As humans we are prone to being, as the song says, "addicted to love", but it is one addiction for which there is no rehabilitation.  When we lose our current drug of choice, we have two options.  We can love again.  Or we can't. 

For me, the choice is pretty clear.  Because I grew up on fairy tales.

There is a lot of controversy surrounding fairy tales.  Disney's light hearted treatment versus the original Grimm horror stories (complete with "adult" subtext).   The daydreaming girl versus the hardworking woman.  The brainwashing moral that all a girl has to do is be kind, virtuous, and a good housewife.  Versus "First he put me on a pedestal, and then he asked me to dust it."

And the common perception is, those sweet little princesses just sat around and sang while they waited for a man to rescue them.

Which is a load of crap.  And I can say that, because I too have spouted the anti-princess line.  I was wrong.

Yes, the princesses sang, at least in Disney's versions.  Yes, there was daydreaming and it usually involved a handsome lad.  They were teenagers.  But none of them just sat around and waited.

Many of the princesses survived tragedy -- often the loss of one or both parents, the loss of a home, and/or the transition of their whole world.  Cinderella, for example, went from pampered and much loved daughter to slave.  Her whole identity was stripped from her and her father never stood up for her.  Snow White lost mother and then father and was ordered killed.  Tiana lost her father.  Rapunzel never even knew her family; her identity hinged on the way she was treated by the witch.  Princess Elsa endured the worst sort of tragedy.  Her parents loved her and  taught her to imprison herself.   Then they died.

For some, the tragedy wasn't as seemingly intense.  Belle's family life seemed pretty decent, with or without siblings.  Aurora had a fine childhood, whether with fairies or with parents.  And it doesn't appear Ariel had to do a lick of housework.  But even Belle, Aurora and Ariel wanted more than the life they had.  They knew they deserved more.  If they were willing to go for it.

Whether the imprisonment was actual or spiritual, each girl had a situation they wanted out of.  Perhaps the dreaming was a form of escapism.  But dreaming doesn't free a person, no matter how many stars you wish upon.  You have to believe.  You have to have the strength of character to grasp the chance when it rolls by.

Cinderella, constantly berated by the female role-models in her life, still made a wish.  When it came true, she believed she had the right to her good fortune.  However unreal it felt, she not only danced with the prince, she presented herself again to get the glass slipper.  She demanded her dream come true, and her dream was love.

When Snow White was offered her life, she ran - not back to the home she knew, but away and to freedom.  And still she dreamed of romance and kindness.  Even after 3 more murder attempts, she was open to love.

Belle imprisoned herself for one love.  And by being open and accepting and expectant, she received another.

Ariel dared a scary bargain because she believed in love and she believed in herself enough to expect love in return.

Aurora trusted that no matter who she was, she could be true to love.

Tiana and Elsa conquered their own fears and allowed themselves to love.

All of those princesses rescued themselves by opening to love - and not just, or not only, the romantic love.  They had to love themselves.  Love their dreams.  Love the life around them, or at least be open to the possibilities.   Even though they had lost love already.  Even though some of them might have been happier, in the short run, to shut down their hearts.  Any one of them could have turned their back on hope, believed they deserved their imprisoned existence, and stayed dreaming forever.  Instead, they chose to be open.  To love.

Who could be better role models?

 When I first met these girls, my tragedies of love lost were limited to pets and boyfriends, outgrown clothes and misplaced books.  Since then, I have loved and lost homes, vehicles, jobs, friends and family.  And while some of these losses were voluntary, and while I do believe in connections, and while I do have faith that nothing is ever truly lost from us, still any loss is painful.  Time heals and still, it is painful.  Memories dim, and still... 

Isolation is so very tempting.  Because the more we are open, the more we expand.  The more we expand,  the more we get to feed our addiction.  And oh, it is true.  The more we love, the more we feel loss when that love is gone.  The more we feel the change of every leaf, the flap of every bird's wing.  The more we mourn the simplest of things.

But a bookworm with an absent minded father can take the reins when the time comes and change her world.  A mermaid can leave her home behind for the chance of something more spectacular.  A weary house-slave and a hard working waitress can both gather the energy to dance at the ball just to keep their dream alive.  They worked.  And they loved.  And they have happily ever after.

Because it isn't about loving a specific item or being.  It is simply about love.

The happily-ever-after isn't in the object of our love.  It is in ourselves.

Therefore.  I can keep my heart open and accept all sorts of love, be it family or friends, eros or agape,  animate or inanimate, seen or unseen.  I can love and lose and love and lose again.  Because I believe in myself.  And I have the strength to keep expanding, to keep believing,  to ask for and work for and accept my dreams, to turn my frogs and my beasts in princes, and to have my happily-ever-after.

I am a princess.   Are you?

- Lila (who wishes you a loving day.)

List of Favorite Fairy Tales versions:

Favorite Tellings  (traditional tale, mostly)	Favorite Retellings  (a different spin)	Favorite Others
Let's Pretend (http://www.artsreformation.com/records/) This is the recordings of the tales, in theatrical format.	Cameron Dokey  - author (especially Midnight and Golden)	Wyrd Sisters  (Terry Pratchett)
The Glass Slipper (Charles Perrault)	Spindle's End (Robin McKinley)	10th Kingdom (mini-series)
Sleeping Beauty (Disney)	Ever After (movie)	Fairy Godmother (Mercedes Lackey)
Tangled (Disney)		Enchanted (movie)
Beauty (Robin McKinley)

The Sleeping God (a review of the book written by Violette Malan)

If you're like me, you are going to adore The Sleeping God, a fantasy book written by Violette Malan and published in 2007.

I am an avid reader of fantasy genres which involve well-armed women.   I am always looking for stories with depth, philosophy, and novelty.  It takes more than witty one-liners from a sharp shooter to get me past the first chapter, and much more than a sweet talking elven love interest.

The Sleeping God did it, though the first chapter was touch and go.  I thought Violette Malan was going to use an easy plot - the main characters defend "magic" innocents against the big bad religious "corporation".   But the language was good; there was obviously more going on than just a self-righteous priest burning the house of a clairvoyant; and best of all, there were the main characters:  Dhulyn - a straight talking, fast punching woman who liked books and had PMS; and Parno - a more pampered but just as deadly, blonde-haired sweet talker. They were Partnered mercenaries.

If you're like me, mercenaries are one of your favorite character groups.  And you know that the vocation of mercenary is not a light-hearted, easy calling; nor is it necessarily an emotional one.  It is about death.  Not for country, or personal agenda, or even family, but fighting (and most likely killing) for money.  The Brotherhood of Mercenaries created by Violette Malan lives up to that pragmatism.  They are trained and bonded and, if they survive the schooling, go forth (like our heroes) to earn money doing amazing things until they find death, preferably at the hands of another mercenary.

I'm hooked.

Of course, if you're like me, a book cannot live on a the awesomeness of its main characters alone.  It needs a backdrop of history, culture, classes and philosophies - familiar enough to recognize, exotic enough to intrigue.  Again, Violette Malan came through.  The world of The Sleeping God is rich with culture; and the author uses conversations and observations to reveal that backdrop, as well as to paint the intricate design of motive and mystery which drive the characters and carry the reader to the intriguing climax.

What Violette Malan did not do was make the rookie mistakes.  She did not dump her characters' back story into a long agonizing chapter.  She did not baldly state the major hurdle of the story, nor the solution.  The villain was not immediately evident; and the characters were not oblivious to certain cues just to make the plot move forward.

Still, the part that made me love this book, the thing that gives this book 5 out of 5 stars, is the portrayal of the antagonist, and how situation is resolved.

So, I must include a slight spoiler - I can't help it. 

*****  If you're like me, the villain is the best part of this book.  He (to use proper English) is complex, unearthly, inhuman.  And the motives behind his actions slowly unfold as evil only from a certain point of view.  To me, this was  intoxicating.  Because, if you're like me, you know black and white are just colors, not guides to good and bad, and it is so rare to find a fantasy writer able to show this dilemma from all sides.  

Even more wonderfully amazing, the finale with the inhuman, unearthly bad guy was appropriate, even compassionate, and definitely befitting of the depth and character of the world created and the characters who enact it.  ************* 

end slight spoiler.

So.  We have mercenaries, good writing, great development, an interesting world, and an unexpected and totally righteous ending (if you're like me.)   As an added bonus, there were delicate homages to other worlds and authors I have read, which made me feel a kinship with Ms. Malan.

Yes, there are some flaws in the book.  Some of the cues and clues seemed too sparse, others a little too thick.  There is wordiness; and sometimes I was confused about who was talking, or what they were talking about.  Some avenues were laid out, but never fully explored.  And there are some formatting issues with the e-reader which made reading, um, interesting.  But if you're like me, you'll think The Sleeping God is  worth every awkward moment and you'll rush to buy to the next book in the series.

Sadly, if you're like me, you'll find the rest of the series does not live up to the glorious beginning.  Each book (there are 3 more) becomes progressively more "usual" in plot and action.  I read them all because the world is still fascinating, the inhabitants are ever more complex and interesting, and the writing is still good.  But for me, the first book of the Dhulyn and Parno series is the best book so far.

So if you are like me, read The Sleeping God.  Keep it in your "again please" pile or list.  And then join me in trying  The Mirror Prince, same author, same year, different world.  I have high hopes.

Thank you.  I hope you have a great day!

-Lila  

Witches & Bitches

I once heard someone use the word "witch" as an adjective for a woman who behaved in an unpleasant manner.  It was obvious the speaker meant "bitch", but didn't want to use that word in polite company.  Being a witch myself, I rather objected to the substitution.

Then I started thinking about it.  A witch is a woman who consciously claims power and works her will upon her world.  Likewise, the word bitch can evoke a feeling of empowerment, even a sense of pride.   In that light, is it really so far off to equate a witch with a bitch?

Online Etymology Dictionary places the origin of the word "bitch" in Olde English, and possibly even further back to Olde Norse or Lapp, and used to mean a female of the canine species.  The Dictionary says "As a term of contempt applied to women, it dates from c.1400; of a man, c. 1500, playfully in the sense of "dog"."   In the late 1900's, bitch became a term of subjugation, perhaps taking the place of the politically incorrect word "slave".  "I'll make you my bitch" was (and perhaps still is) a phrase of challenge and contempt, conveying the speaker's dominance.

In 2013, the word "bitch" covers a whole gamut of meanings including the dog and the slave.    You can call your friends bitches, and you can call your enemies bitches.  You can whip a bitch (meaning make a u-turn.)  According to the Online Slang Dictionary, to "sit bitch" is to be in the middle in the back seat.  To bitch is to complain; and of course, something that you don't want to do can be a real bitch.  And just yesterday I saw one of those Posters on Facebook with the words "if the shoe fits, lace that bitch up."

The word "witch" does not have as interesting a variation of meaning.  It has almost always referred to a person who works magic.   Interestingly, Word Nerd  states that the base word, wicca, actually referred to any male who worked with magic (c.890).   Wicce is the feminine form of the word.  Eventually, "witch" was relegated strictly to women; "in later use especially "a woman supposed to have dealings with the devil or evil spirits and to be able by their cooperation to perform supernatural acts."" (Online Etymology Dictionary).  The modern definition of witch, as read on  Dictionary.com: "A person, now especially a woman, who professes or is supposed to practice magic, especially black magic or the black art."

Of course, there is that second definition in Dictionary.com: "an ugly or mean old woman; hag".   Is this because the old woman refuses to bow to the social niceties anymore?  Refuses to pander?  Is she ugly because she is older, or because she says things no one wants to hear?  Likewise, how many women have been called bitch for actually accomplishing something?  For standing up and not being subjugated to another's desires?  For pushing ahead instead of giving up or giving in?

You'll notice I am not making a distinction between intention; whether witches and bitches act for reasons of goodness and light, or with desire to harm is not the actual point.  In fact, foul or fair is often a case of perception.  If one bitch gets a job instead of another bitch, someone's child still gets fed.  If a witch wins the lottery, others do not.  History is written by the winners; and, as we all know these days, mud-slinging is a favorite past-time.

Did witch become the "polite" way to say bitch because of the rhyme?  Or because of the perceived insult? And does it matter?  Today, for me, it feels true that witch and bitch are synonymous - women, or to be etymologically correct, persons who choose to stand up, stand tall, and move their own mountains, regardless (or perhaps in spite) of outside opinion.

My name is Lila and I am a witch.  And a bitch.  A witchy bitch?  A bitchy witch.  Whatever.   It's all good.

Thank you.  And I hope you have a great day.

-Lila

Sources:

• Harper, Douglas.  Online Etymology Dictionary  ©2001-2013. Web. January 2014.
• Kipfer, Barbara Ann, PhD. The Word Nerd. Naperville: Sourcebooks, Inc.  ©2007. 
• Online Slang Dictionary  ©1996 - 2014. Web. January 2014.
• Dictionary.com ©2014 Dictionary.com LLC 

Remember the men

Wow.  2012 is done.  Finished.  It's been a year since we officially, astronomically turned the corner.

Look at all the women standing up, standing forth, no longer asking or even demanding, but EXPECTING the honor and respect which is our due as members of the human race.  Look at us becoming politically involved, spiritually involved, personally involved.

Yay us.  Go us!  But…

Let's remember the men.

As we come to realize our strengths, as we discover our abilities, as we draw outside the box and the circle and the polygon, let us not strive to wipe men out of existence.  I'm serious.  Not only are we changing the world around us, we are changing the world inside us.  We have ALL been trained in "the way it should be", whether we are sadistic bitches or sensitive men, nurturing women or cold-hearted bastards.  There is no need to crush the males under our shoes, boots or dancing slippers.  There is no reason to bash every person who has a penis.  Because a vagina does not automatically make a person right about everything either.

I know there are places and people who have to fight for their choices, for their decisions.  But that doesn't mean our rise in power needs to be a militant one.  Nor even an overpowering one.  In fact, there are many women who still prefer to have "a man in charge".  And they're just as right, for themselves and their situation, as the rest of us.

 

Let this age of Aquarius be one of equals, not one of gender.  Let all the teachers teach, let all the geniuses create, let all the skilled healers heal.  Let the head of the household be the one decided by that household.  Let us each, and all, answer the call of our abilities and our desires; let us be ruled by our hearts, not by outdated models of society.

I am not responsible for the way my ancestors treated people in their possession or people they were possessed by.  I am responsible for how I treat people of all races, religions, beliefs, cultures, occupations, genders, social standings, etc.

I am not responsible for the Crusades or the Witch Trials, the Crucifixion or  human sacrifice.  I am responsible for how I treat people of all races, religions, beliefs, cultures, occupations, genders, social standings, etc.

I am not responsible for anyone's actions during the Civil War of the United States, for any of the World Wars, for the rise and fall of any historical empires or civilizations.  I am responsible for how I treat people of all races, religions, beliefs, cultures, occupations, genders, social standings, etc.

I am not responsible for any of the laws passed or traditions set before my coming of age.  I am responsible for how I treat people of all races, religions, beliefs, cultures, occupations, genders, social standings, etc.

And I am not responsible for how my mother treated my father, nor for how my father treated my mother.  I am not responsible for anyone else's rules of behavior, in and out of the work place, the home, the  shopping mall.  I am responsible only for my actions, for how I treat people, regardless of race, religion, belief, culture, occupation, gender, social standing, etc.

Therefore, as we the women regain our equilibrium and see ourselves in a fresh and invigorating light, let us remember the men.  As people.  As husbands and fathers and brothers and friends and lovers and enemies and teachers and students and bystanders.   Be they  Bully or Braveheart, let us treat them each according to their actions of today, and not according to, or in retaliation for, the rules laid down by people a thousand years ago.

Thank you,

Lila

The next shooting

On December 13, 2013, I am not praying only for the students and families and alumni and community of Arapahoe High School. 

It is not my intention to devalue the trauma of anyone who is touched by the events.  But, thanks to our social media abilities, I expect there are good wishes pouring in from all over the globe.  If everyone touched believes in the power of prayer, the AHS community has never been safer or healthier than at this moment.

So I would like to take a moment and draw your attention away to the things we cannot see.  The things we may never know.  Let us send thoughts and prayers and wishes and health and healing and justice to those whose suffering will never be big enough to reach the media.  May not even be known by the community.  Could even be hidden from the neighbors.  Let us pray for everyone who has been wounded today, even if they don't realize it themselves.  Let us send our thoughts over the whole world and touch every person who is in pain, or shock, or fear, or just needs to know there is someone, somewhere, who knows they exist.

Thank you,

Lila  

Enlightenment is Awesome - Transition Vortex

Transitions are difficult.  Change is difficult.  We live our lives in patterns, in routines.  We train to act and react a certain way.  We learn skills, become proficient, we "manage" our time.

And every time we change something, we have to relearn something.

Let's take the big one -- moving.  Even if you keep the same job, you're going to have to find a new way to get there.  (Even if you work from home, it's a different path from new kitchen to new office.)  The temperature in the house will be different.  The air is different.  The light is certainly different.  As is the ambient noise.  Most likely, with a move, there is finding a new grocery store.  New health care options.  New schools.   New restaurants.  New shortcuts.  New views.  Perhaps a new favorite time of day, as a result of the light and the noise and the view.

And even if you leave out  the decision making process prior to the move, and the chaos of actually moving; dealing with  the new patterns, the new input, the new things to learn, is a transition vortex - a whirlwind of emotional, physical, mental imbalance.

Some changes, transitions, moves feel easier than others.  Yes, there is the inherent chaos and the overwhelming desire to return to the contentedness of routine, but the underlying drive of fulfilling goals is enough to propel us through the vortex.  And, when a moment out of time is needed, there are always the comfort items: the fuzzy blanket; the special food item; the song; the book; the video; the person.

But what if you're changing yourself?  What if you are moving from identity to identity?  What if you are retraining your choices to achieve a physical and mental you that is aligned with your faith, your personal body preferences, and the ability to achieve what you want to achieve?  In other words, what if you ARE striving for enlightenment?  (Disclaimer [read really fast] - this poster believes every  person's enlightenment is individual and unique, and therefore does not intend to assume everyone reaches it in the same way.)

For example, if you are trying to keep momentum and energy in your life, your music choices probably need to be  upbeat and driving, not poignant.  Less "I'll Always Love You"   and more "I'm Free!"

But what if "Goodbye to You" is a song you love to sing at the top of your lungs when you're feeling particularly despondent?  And, in the midst of your transition, there is a day where you're ready to throw in the towel.  And you set up the mp4 player, and you crank up the stereo, and you're halfway through belting out the song…

…and you realize it just doesn't do it for you anymore.

The song is sad and beautiful and even empowering, but it no longer soothes you.

What do you do?

I don't know.  What do YOU do?

The best "do" for me, currently, is to find something productive, even if it is cleaning out emails.  Because it turns the frustrated energy back toward the goal.  This could be why someone suddenly becomes successful… the more they put into their goal, the less comfort they get from old habits, so they turn back to the goal for comfort.

But I am still hunting for a new, perfect song.  Because working, as much as I need it for my current transition, isn't taking a break, isn't a balm to my soul, doesn't flow into the pained crevices like the old comforts did.  Even my posts, which usually include some form of humor or lightness, seem to be crying out from a deep well of sorrow.  Which should be awesome, right?  I love wallowing in deep wells.

Sometimes.

Well, I used to.

But.

My favorite food items don't taste good anymore.  My snuggle stuffed animals are ready for new homes.  And if I hear one more weepy song come from my stereo, I may scream.

Welcome to my current Transition.

Awesome.

Though, actually, in fact... 

...it really is awesome to be able to understand why this one has been more fraught than others.   Because everything is changing.  Including the things that help me rise above.

 Maybe I'll explore rap music.  Hmmm.

-Lila