Babble 1

9:33

So.  I find myself close to my deadline.  I have 2 and 1/2 hours to go before I NEED to have something posted.  I must make my goal.  I must.  AAAAAAAAGHHH.

And nothing is resonating.  All these marvelous thoughts I've mentally composed come to lifeless sentences upon the screen.  There is no poetry to them, no force, no conviction.

There is a huge difference between believing something, or thinking something, or contemplating something, and being able to accurately and passionately discuss that belief, that thought.

And so we come to the first of our desperation measures - the babble.  Wherein in I type whatever comes to mind for the next five minutes and post it, willy nilly.

Which isn't actually accurate.  Willy nilly - which now is used for a chaotic arrangement or action - originally comes from "Will he, nil he" - with or without permission.  At least, I'm assuming that's where it comes from.  That's what it sounds like, doesn't it?  I could take the time to look it up, but that would deplete from the five minutes of typing and so, it feels like cheating.

This form of typing will also give a really good idea of how I talk.  Words spilling haphazardly from  my lips (or fingers) to flow upon the ear of the patient listener.

My mom was an excellent listener.  And rarely expressed judgement.  I didn't realize it at the time, but I used her as a sounding board and often, if I didn't like the way something sounded when I talked about it, or if I couldn't express it fully and completely (as in no poetry, no force and no conviction *G*) then it wasn't time for that idea.  Or that idea wasn't for me.  I was/ am a pretty good listener to others, but with my Mom I was a motor mouth.  I don't even know if there was an off switch.

I am cheating a little.  There are a lot of deletes - either through typos, or through words not exactly expressing what I'm trying to say.  And so (at 9:40) I'll keep typing a little while longer.

Expressing myself verbally ad nauseum to my mother may have been a side effect of not feeling comfortable expressing myself to others.  Privacy has always felt like a big issue with me.  Whose business is it, anyway?

But the other part, it turns out, is, well, as a story teller, I had a tendency to just open my mouth and say anything.  And then I'd be left with these words and thoughts I didn't really believe.  So I learned, practiced, tried to keep my mouth shut.

Until now.  These last few years I've allowed myself to speak again.  Because I know what I believe.  And, actually more important, if I say something that's not a personal belief or knowledge, I know how to retract, or express my total lack of ignorance.  Because I've learned to accept myself.

Which is amusing, because the piece I was trying to right is about accepting - accepting self and others, and the different between accepting someone and admiring them.  So at least I wound up back on topic, didn't I?

And that puts it at 9:45.  Weird, since I am a pretty fast typer, that it takes so long to write so little.  So little in words anyway.  But the intensity behind it is huge.  Isn't it?  And, I'm not even going to proof read it.  So we'll see how I feel about this post tomorrow.

Thank you for reading.   This end the babble.

9:47

I hope you have a great day!

-Lila

How to Epilate without Really Crying

I admit it.  I am an epilator.

You might think, given my "natural" preferences , that I would be a person who prefers not to shave.  And that's true.  I really do prefer not to shave.  It's annoying.  And messy.  Sometime painful.  And no matter how many commercials I watch, or products I try, I never end up with a perfect shave.  Or a very long lasting one.

But I also prefer not to have whiskers on my chin.  Yup.  I'm one of "those" women.  A BEAUTIFUL head of hair means a beautiful HEAD of hair.  And since I'm gonna remove hair from my chin, I may as well remove hair from my legs.  It's true.  I like my legs to be smooth.  Not for anyone else, but for the way it feels and looks to me.

So yes, I have tried the creams, which really make my skin feel weird.  It's not that effective.  And it's also messy, as well as awkward - standing in the bathroom, holding the robe away from my legs while trying to read a book to pass the time until I can climb into the shower and GET THIS STUFF OFF ME!

And I've tried waxing.  Yeah.  Not horrible, really.  But, you guessed it.  Messy.  And occasionally awkward.  And, again, not always effective.  (it's pretty stubborn hair.)   And definitely not helpful on the chin.  (Stubborn, stubborn hair.)

So, I finally tried an epilator.  I figured, it can't be much worse than a tatoo, right?  Eventually, the area will get numb, right?

The chin was fine, really.  A little surprising, because the noisy little buzzer grabbed all sorts of hairs I didn't know were there.  But I've tweezed my chin before, so it was a decent experience and, even better, a much more thorough job than the waxing or the cream (or the tweezing) ever did.

But my legs were not happy.  The first time I epilated, I only managed to get half of each leg done.  And I needed to take the rest of the day off to recover from the trauma.  Serious trauma.  Beauty is pain trauma.   Which, in my perspective, is just silly.  Pain isn't fun.  Beauty should be fun.  Therefore…

But, my legs (the epilated parts) did stay hair free.  So a week later, I gritted my teeth and did another section.  And two weeks later another.

Then I hit upon the perfect way to epilate.  And no, it does not involve alcohol either before or after the event.

But it does involve herbs.  (remember, I am a "natural" girl.)

Bonnie's Balms Pain Eraser, to be specific.  A natural blend of herbs combined to help numb pain.  (Also good for sore muscles.)  I put it on half an hour or an hour before I'm going to epilate.  It is a little oily, but it smells good, and, since it's herbs, I don't mind it getting on my clothes.  So I can continue working, or read curled up on the couch, or do whatever I want with no awkwardness at all!

Then, I take a warm bath (because I can), gently scrub the oil off my legs & chin, dry and epilate.  Just run the little machine up and down the leg like an electric razor. 

No trauma.  No tears.  And yes, there's still a little pain.  A sting.  A tingle.  And it's still a mess - little teeny hair follicles everywhere - eeewwww.  But, much less mess than the rest.  And so worth it!  Every two weeks, numb, bathe, & zippity doodad.

Granted, I haven't been brave enough to try it on my thighs.  I still wince when I do the back of my knees, though I think that may be more expectation than actual feeling.  But I do foresee a day… 

I hope you  have a great one!

-Lila

LeaveTakings

As I take my leave of you, I think of all that we've been through.

I release the emotional residue, as I take my leave from you.

There has been anguish, tears and pain, but I'm so tired of that refrain.

Life is births and endings, change.  There's often anguish, tears and pain.

There's also growth and love and joy - those most precious of life's alloys

Sometimes sparkling, sometimes coy, there's always growth and love and joy.

And yes, a maudlin song feels deep.  The tears into your voice can creep.

Your eyes can shimmer and 1 tear weep when singing that song which feels so deep.

But life is not the single tear.  Life is the screech that rings the ear.

Life is the laughter loud and clear.  Life is a torrent of bloating tears.

And all the things we have been through - the stops and starts, the false and true,

are endings yes, but startings too.  There's growth in all we have been through.

So I sing, as I take leave.  We shall celebrate and grieve.

The memories shall shift and sieve.  The song may change after I leave.

But joy will always be refrained. 

I hope you have a great life!

-Lila

Ruminate, rinse & repeat

Sometimes, as I begin to expound upon some important topic, I feel an over-whelming sense of familiarity. Have I already given my personal chapter & verse on this issue?  Haven't I already poured out my heart?

Anyone who has tried to change a habit can tell you, it takes more than 1 day, more than 1 try, to make a difference in a life. And what is any moment of life but an attempt, a practice, of new habits? Whether we're changing patterns or perceptions or preferential attitudes, it's the repetition & the practice which perfects it.

Just like a habit desirous of change, a thought process is a repetitious thing.  Whether you're establishing your faith or learning a dance step, you find yourself thinking the same thought, or contemplating the same issue, again and again until you're quite clear in your mind.  It's not a sudden process -- although one day you'll suddenly realize you no longer have the issue --  it's a practice. 

And so, when I think I am repeating a thought process, or a protest, or a declaration of faith or perspective, I go ahead and write it out anyway.  Because practice, repetition, refinement, is the way to know what really works for me.  The way to know what I really think.  To way to scrape off the top layer of thought and dig down to the next level of the issue.

Ruminate, rinse, and repeat. 

I hope you have a great day!

-Lila

Gratitude

I give thanks for the new home.

I give thanks for the bathtub.

I give thanks for the kitchen.

I give thanks for the windows through which the sun shines every day.

I give thanks for the view to the North, the East, the South and the West.

I give thanks for the feelings of comfort and accomplishment, of homecoming and relaxation.

I give thanks for the family who nurtures me.

I give thanks for the clans who accept me.

I give thanks for the community who supports me.

I give thanks for the Beings who make my life complete.

I give thanks for the growth and knowledge, for the celebrations which brought me to this place.

I give thanks for every moment and every breath.

I give thanks for despair and exaltation.

I give thanks for triumphs and dis-ease.

I give thanks for opportunities taken and passed.

I give thanks for tears of every flavor.

I give thanks for every connection, every step, every choice.

Thank you.

Love & Unicorns,

Lila

Soapbox of Perception - Because I Care

I'll admit I enjoy being taken care of… to a point.  A roof over my head, someone to cook my meals.  I'd really like someone to clean my house.  Doors opened for me.  The little things that make one feel special.

I'll also admit, reluctantly, that my physical body has been through stuff which means I need to take care of myself… to a point.  I need to pay more attention to the things I eat.  I need to take temperature and exertion levels into account when I plan an outing (or a job hunt).  I need to know that this buzzy feeling in the head means anxiety while that one means shortness of breath and the other one means energetic work and that one, that one means there's something eating my hair.

However, all this specialness, all these adventures of body and soul, are nothing special.  They are attributes of my life, but they make me no better and no worse a person than Stephen Hawking or Steven Seagal or Stefen Smith.  We all have our challenges, we all have our skills, we all have our personality quirks.

Therefore, there is absolutely no reason to look for more reasons to be taken care of.  Lactose tolerance, allergies and arthritis, memory issues and muscle ticks and sensitivity to light, or vibes, or whatever.  There is absolutely no need to create mountains out of these molehills, to add another pill to the parade, to turn my medical information notecard into an essay.

So why, when feeling uncertain, confused, or even hopeless, why is the first impulse to find more impediments to my vision of a happy life?  Ah, that twinge must be the beginning of a migraine.  Oop, there's the gastro-intestinal distress.  Oh!  I must have carpal tunnel from typing so much.  And low blood sugar.  And high blood pressure.  And sinus infection.  And more allergies!  The more I sit here and mope about my body, the more issues I can find with my body and soon, if I sit here long enough, someone else will have to take care of me because I will be nothing except disease.

Yuck.

While I acknowledge the dependence our bodies have upon  nutrition and exercise; while I reluctantly bow to the evidence that my emotions, as well as my health, are affected by chemicals; still, there is no reason to BE the vitamin supplements, the medication, the dietary restrictions. My energy and motivation may be driven by those chemicals, but my passions, my integrity, my dreams are a different reality.  Yes, the body ages and changes, but giving it permission to deteriorate is, basically, lazy.

It is time to care for myself in a positive fashion. It is time to  finding healing solutions instead of painful problems.  To Care is to encourage through healthy thought. It that a twinge? Then slap some healing energy on it right now. Does the ankle feel weak? Time for some strengthening exercises.  Age simply means I have more will, a stronger will, and more reason to keep myself as healthy as possible.  More reason to THINK myself happy & healthy.

Yes, it is nice to be cared for. But it's tough to be in someone else's care, ad hence, in someone else's power. If I truly Care for me, I will quit encouraging the sinus pain & the allergies & the palpitations. These are now obstacles to my happy, healthy, wealthy life. And as such shall be dealt with firmly.

I am healthy because I care, I am special because I'm me. And illness has no place in my life because I have better things to do than count pills.

I hope you have a great day!

-Lila

The Idea Trap

Like any writer, I have been asked where the ideas come from.  And really, for me, ideas are easy.  Everything is a story.  Heck, given some of my beliefs, everything could be three stories!

The part that makes writing "work", for me, is the development of the idea, fleshing it out.  Still being interested or curious or passionate enough about the idea -- the next day or week or month -- to actually put some energy into creating with it.

I have 2 file cabinet drawers full of story ideas (obviously, this is pre-lap top) and many other ideas floating around on scraps of paper and in random computer files.   There are over 200 officially logged ideas - ideas neat enough to get names or synopses; and at least 100 more ideas hanging out.   And of those 300 plus ideas, maybe 100 have endings, and maybe 50 are finished.  Not revised, but at least written or broadly outlined.

Actually, that's pretty good, now I think about it.  Pretty good indeed.

This does not include the songs & poems, most of which are finished. That's the nice thing about writing poetry, for me. The flow & the words have to do with the truth of the moment, so there isn't a lot of revision. There's "good" & there's "shudder", but not much revision.

Writing stories includes a lot of revision.  At least for me.  At least right now.  I'm learning.  Elusive Dreams is a quite different story than the original idea #109 - which was actually called Cast of One when it started.  I think I wrote 3 distinctly different stories before everything settled into the book it is now.    As opposed to Not Really a Murder Mystery, which had some rewrites but is recognizably IDEA #68 all grown up.

I thought consistent blogging might actually be a little easier - where easy equals have an idea, write the idea, post the idea. Rather like a research paper, I suppose.  Because blogging isn't even ideas so much as opinions, right?  And I'm the type of person who can have philosophical breakthroughs while washing my hair.  Heck, I could probably do two or three blogs a week, considering how opinionated I become over some things.  Give myself a deadline, sit down at my friendly little keyboard, and type away.  Easy peasy!

And now my blog log is full of half started rants, treatises on driving & commercials, perspectives on relationships and faiths.  And I just don't care.  I mean to say, I still CARE, but I don't feel an emotional connection to the unfinished pieces... At least, not enough of one to continue writing about any of them.  This week alone, I put in three possible subjects, and none of them make me want to take up the torch.  At least not right now, when I expected to be editing so I can meet my deadline.   Right now,  the commercial relationship of faithful humans who drive feels as appealing as mayo on white. ("yum.")

 But isn't that how we get through life?  One idea at a time?  We dream of where and how and who we wish to be and one of those dreams creates a big enough light to stand out from the rest.  So we grasp that idea.  Sometimes we carry that passion to the end, sometimes it peters out and we're left with half-finished projects or another job on our resume.  And so we dreams and grasp again.   And perhaps that's all that matters.  We keep dreaming and keep trying and keep adding up the experiences.  A favorite quote of mine, probably used before, is from Into the Woods: "How do you know what you want 'til you get what you want and you see if you like it?"   And sometimes we only like something for a little while, like only artichoke hearts, and then we lose our taste for it.  That goes for anything, from food to clothes to hobbies to jobs to relationships.

So I'll keep all the ideas on my ideas list, story and blog.  From the modern Beauty and the Beast to the romance trilogy.  I'll keep the story written entirely in accounting entries, and I'll keep the story about the teenage band who secretly run the town while their parents are working at a mysterious government facility.  (l wrote that when I was 14.)  Heck.  There's probably a market for it now.

I'll keep all the ideas on my list, or wherever I have them stashed.  There are so many possibilities in ideas.  Rather like potentials in dreams.  And as a writer, I can see each one of them come true, in any shape I desire.  I can flit from idea to idea until the sparks fly between us.

So sometimes, the question is not, how do I get ideas?  The question is, how do I stop getting ideas long enough to latch on to something I can feel passionate about until the end?

Like this post.

About ideas.

Which is actually finished.

Yay me!

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