The Courage to be Myself

The Courage to be Myself
I have the courage to...
Embrace my strengths
Get excited about life
Enjoy giving and receiving love
Face and transform my fears
Ask for help and support when I need it
Spring free of the Superwoman trap
Trust myself
Make my own decisions and choices
Befriend myself
Complete unfinished business
Realize that I have emotional and practical rights
Talk as nicely to myself as I do to my plants
Communicate lovingly with understanding as my goal
Honor my own needs
Give myself credit for my accomplishments
Love the little girl within me
Overcome my addiction to approval
Grant myself permission to play
Quit being a responsibility sponge
Feel all of my feelings and act on them appropriately
Nurture others because I want to, not because I have to
Choose what is right for me
Insist on being paid fairly for what I do
Set limits and boundaries and stick by them
Say "yes" only when I really mean it
Have realistic expectations
Take risks and accept change
Grow through challenges
Be totally honest with myself
Correct erroneous beliefs and assumptions
Respect my vulnerabilities
Heal old and current wounds
Favor the mystery of Spirit
Wave good-bye to guilt
Plant "flower," not "weed" thoughts in my mind
Treat myself with respect and teach others to do the same
Fill my own cup first, then nourish others from the overflow
Own my own excellence
Plan for the future but live in the present
Value my intuition and wisdom
Know that I am lovable
Celebrate the differences between men and women
Develop healthy, supportive relationships
Make forgiveness a priority
Accept myself just as I am now

Taken from a poster in my old room at my dad's by sue patton thoele

Foodie Inspired!

(Pre-Clean Eating Plate)
I’ve been thinking about going to culinary school for quite sometime now however, I’m on the last leg of receiving my Masters in Industrial Organizational Psychology. I recently found a website that links all food bloggers together and boy did it inspire me! I don’t necessarily HAVE to go to culinary school to be a cook. I admit I have this subconscious tickler that likes to strike experiences off the list though.

I’ve learned years ago, how relaxing cooking makes me and I even attributed LOVE to me WANTING to share my food with another person. During my stint in Asia, when I traveled I collected recipes and cooking techniques instead of the typical souvenir. It was beautiful and delicious! I think last year, I started withholding that I COULD cook to men I dated until I felt they deserved to know that piece of info. Why would I do this? Well, I found that men would stick around much longer for the homecooked meal (compliments to the chef but what about the women, I digress).

Growing up, I had an aversion to cooking maybe because my stepmom always linked MARRIAGE to it. The feminist in me was not feeling that idea at ALL however, this feminist learned to cook for HERSELF. I realized she LOVED it!!!

Today, I spent an hour chopping up veggies and bagging them for easy assess. I am salivating at the thought of making Panang curry tomorrow over a bed of brown rice. As a foodie, I am also working on being a clean eater so it challenges me to re-think the things I swoon over and figure out how to make them clean. I would like to be more creative and adventurous as a cook so I have some ways to stretch my culinary skills.

What is your favorite food?

The State of Matrimony

Throughout my life, I have had a few differing ideals to marriage. Before, I address them I would like let the record show what I saw in my life of relationships.

My parents were married because it was the RIGHT thing to do since my mom had gotten pregnant. They didn't last long cause I don't have a memory of them ever being together. My dad remarried while my mom married and divorced. My paternal grandparents have been married forever and a day and my maternal grandmother has been married twice.

I grew up seeing people love real hard or holding back and not being successful. I only dreamed of the wedding because all the other girls were doing it. I talked about the man I would marry, how many kids we would have and where/how we would live yet it never resonated deep in my soul as a necessity for my happiness.

I secretly felt that marriage was a type of bondage that stole from people. I remember watching women's wrestling before I realized it was fake and being fascinated by the power thus saying I would marry a weak man who I could jack-up against the wall and make him do as I say. (Yes, I was kinda crazy...lol) After her second marriage, my mom confirmed my secret feeling by telling me that in love/marriage you lose a part of yourself. So, I didn't really want a weak man I just knew I would have to fight to be and keep ME.

I questioned my femininity because I didn't feel like the girls did about marriage so in my militant self-defined feminism I resorted to saying I would only get married if I could have both a husband AND a wife. Although, I could never truly imagine being married to a woman...too emotionally needy for me (I'm the only one allowed to be overly emotional in relationship).

I've never really imagined a wedding, a dress or even the cake. I think about being embarrassed about kissing and showing all that affection in public even among intimate company. I have avoided being in weddings by opting to be the Mistress of Ceremony ensuring their dream is fulfilled.

Sadly, I've seen how things change once people marry and even how cheating continues. So, what's the point in getting married? This confuses me deeply. I'm the type who struggles with moving forward if I'm perplexed by a step in the process.

I totally understand people when they say they are single until they say "I do" too bad, even some married folks think they still are. I'm a loyalist so even though there is no ring on his hand, I won't give him the time of the day if I know he is in a exclusive dating relationship (despite it ALL I'm a major romantic and I love love).

Could I marry for benefits? I'd consider but there are so many other things to factor in. Would I marry to help someone become an American? I had this proposed to me once but again the factors.

Ultimately, I don't think marriage is for everyone however, society puts pressure on people to do so instead of just living their lives in a love that works for them. I would be fine with a life partner that believed in a lifelong commitment without succumbing to the traditions of marriage just because. We would do it because we felt deeply affected by NOT doing it and believed we wouldn't take pieces of self from each other.
Grow and evolve with me for the betterment of all,

V.

Being a Professional Student

Last year in June, I began pursuing my Masters in Industrial Organizational Psychology with an online program through the Chicago School of Professional Psychology. I was nervous since I had been out of school for twelve years but felt that if I waited another year I wouldn't return even though I didn't feel that online studies would work for me.

My first few weeks, I was a bit confused not by the material but by my resistance to the entire experience. One, I felt like I was in solitary confinement with sensory deprivation. I wasn't hearing, feeling anything through the vast amount of reading that I had paddle through. I love to read but not everything. Second, the first couple of class yielded very little instructor participation so to me it was the blind leading the blind. I didn't like this concept at all and made me question what my tuition was paying for. Third, I've never been the type to feel it necessary to speak because however, the graded discussions require you and all your classmates to answer the same question and then reply to atleast one to three with significant contributions to the thread. I understand the idea but honestly, I lose most of my points because I hate being redundant, searching for something significant to add and speaking for grade sake. Lastly, the material makes some sense but not enough to ease my nerves since I've never worked in the field so my applied lesson always seem very bare-bones compared to my colleagues (yeah, yeah, I know I shouldn't compare myself to others).

I've taken loads of assessments from MBTI, DISc to 360 Feedback and have learn much about myself however, I think the exceleration of the program along with life prohibits me from internalizing the information.

I'm pushing through school as best I can (Class 2011), thankful that I don't have kids to add to my mental obligations. I hope it will all make sense one day though but I've always wanted a Masters in this field so I'm in it to win it. Working full time adds an additional dimension to going to school.

What would I do with the degree? Well, my dream job is to be a dream maker and help other reach their goals yet I would love to work a few years at the Center for Creative Leadership since leadership and organizational effectiveness is my specialization.

The Problem with Positivity

The law of attraction aka the secret stays in the forefront of my mind as I watch and listen to people talk about what it has done for them. I have a pal who had a man whisper to her he knew the "secret" and it sent her on a uplifting journey in her life. She is truly doing the damn thang! I'm proud of her for living the secret and like that she keeps it real.

I use to have another pal who I met when I first moved to New York. We met at the library in a career workshop and the thing that bugged me about her the most was how positive she was. I just that the extreme of it was surreal and she had to be overcompensating for something. I let her go because I saw her truth and my gut was right.

The problem with positivity is that any other emotion becomes a weakness in the eye of the beholder. Honestly, I don't believe a person can be positive all day everyday yet in my quest for personal emotional balance, I seek happiness. In that world, I am positive but I'm also vulnerable enough to show ALL of myself.

The problem with positivity is the state of perfection it puts on a person. I typically get down on myself about things and as I've been told before "We have enough critics to not be our cheerleader." Even they aren't perfect but they look good trying. They fall from the top of a pyramid, cry a bit and then try again with either trust or trepidation.

The problem with positivity is negativity. You must not think or even worse speak about the cons instead live in Pollyanna's world. This wrong, I guess as a Libra I believe is weighing my options, the good and bad before I jump into a situation. For some, they would say I lack faith and I would reply "blind faith" is how Jim Jones got hundreds of people to move away from their families and drink the kool-aid. Others will say, to obsess on life's cons is to plant retarded seeds into the universe.

Maybe, but a balance must be struck between positivity and being authentic. People shouldn't appear hyprocritical for stating the facts on a situation that is not in the best interest the individual OR even feeling anything but positive in this moment. Sadly, unless I'm missing the silver lining, its not there.

Is there a place for negative feelings in the world of positivity?

Glistening,

Vicx

She's RAW & CLEAN

I have always leaned more towards the healthy spectrum of eating however, you would never know this by looking at me.

Sugar is my drug of choice and my thighs suffer because of it. My mom use to say, "You'd lose those thighs if you let Lil' Debbie go," needless to say my love affair with her has survived the test of time.

One of my favorite books is "The Jungle" by Upton Sinclair and it addresses the meat packing industry. I became a vegetarian for a couple of years.

Currently, my dietary goal is to be a Raw and Clean Eating. I have been learning more about being a raw foodist and have embarked on sprouting pumpkin seeds (stinky and bitter)and quinoa, fermenting wheat berries to make rejuvelac (can't wait to start flavoring it) and marinating collard greens and mixed veggies. I aspire to be a healthy eater however, I find myself slipping and knowing what my goal is I haven't gone 100% raw but I've been doing 2 raw meals a day and 1 cooked.

It has been made official that I am lactose intolerant, it was interesting to feel how immediate my body reacted to diary (nutmilk here I come) and I have burped everyday since I've been eating this way which is not typical for me. Not sure what that is all about.

Eating clean is often what bodybuilders refer to when they are training. Its eliminating processed foods and artificial additives and preservatives from the diet. Lean meat is suitable and is typically eaten with a carb or vegetable. Basically you are feeding the muscles, amping up the metabolism and starving the fat with several small meals a day. Herbs and spices can be used to season the food.

I suspect our ancestors were Raw & Clean so let's take it back!

Checking Your Connections

I have been thinking about connections a lot lately especially as it relates to friendship. I've learned in the past ten years that people don't allow themselves to connect nearly as much as they could with others. We are constantly analyzing the situation to fast forward it to where we think it is really going but unfortunately connecting is something we can't force.

Many people miss out on this amazing life altering event simply because they are afraid. Afraid of being hurt, betrayed, used, loved, etc. Along with the fear comes to confusion of what the connection really is. I will admit I've connected with people and immediately assumed it was an intimate one, because it felt so GOOD, instead I jumped the gun and neglected to lay the foundation in a friendship. Unfortunately, jumping the gun takes kismet out of the equation and severs the connection before its truly rooted within.

I've never been the type to have loads of friends but I have a handful of people who no matter the amount of time passed we seem to always pick up where we left off. Deep inside I feel like we are only treading the surface of the connection but I know my resistance to devulge my inner being keeps us there but because they are my friends they wait patiently.

Friendship should be enriching, nurturing and boundless connections so what is the majority of my relationships called because I rarely feel good in them. Some people I feel connected to but its crystal clear that the feeling isn't mutual. Why would I say this? Well, its based on how they make me feel and my inability to be myself unapologetically. I feel that I am just a placeholder, a gag gift, a cesspool for their perverse thoughts, an afterthought. It makes me question how I treat people because I am only a reflection of the people in my life. Am I taking people for granted, not calling, cancelling at the last minute time and time again, not telling them how much they mean to me?

I don't feel as though I've genuinely connected with another in a while and that scares and makes me sad.

When was the last time you really connected with someone?

Spirituality Quotes

Just when I found out the meaning of life, they changed it. - George Carlin

Science cannot solve the ultimate mystery of Nature. And it is because in the last analysis we ourselves are part of the mystery we are trying to solve. - Max Planck, Nobel Laureate and Father of Quantum Physics

Do not be idolatrous or bound to any doctrine, theory, or ideology. All systems of thought are guiding means; they are not absolute truth. - Vietnamese Zen Monk Thich Nhat Hanh

The purpose of the spiritual life is to be happy...The reason why men seeks for happiness is not because happiness is his own being; therefore, in seeking for happiness, man is seeking for himself. - Sufi Master Hazrat Inayat Khan

Lest ye become as little children, ye shall not enter the Kingdom of Heaven. - Jesus

Happy Sunday,

ME

What is Spirituality?

In the last post I mentioned I was reading "The Seeker's Guide" by Elizabeth Lesser. I was introduced to this book through Raw Foodist, Kevin Gianni who mentioned in the foreword or intro of his book "High Raw" that this book changed how he lived his life. (One of the great things about reading is how jewels are sprinkled inside as possible influential landmarks in our lives.)

She asks "What is Spirituality?" and then explains that after surveying and interviewing 200 spiritual leaders it was apparent that there is no right answer.

Spirituality is NOT the same as religion. I've said it for years that I'm not religious however, I don't think I've ever truly defined what being spiritual meant for me. I had an idea of what the vision looked and felt like but never really invited spirituality in my life with a definite intent.

According to Lesser, defining this idea/tenet for oneself is the first step in the journey of life's great adventure. So, I begin by forgetting everything I think I know about anything, becoming comfortable with the unknown and displaying fearlessness as I embrace a "beginner's mind" which is similar to that of a young child's optimistic, wide open nature of questioning.

This will be uncomfortable for me but I can only imagine the sense of relief it will bring my mind, body and spirit to NOT fear the unknown and be okay with not knowing.

Buddhists use the word "shamatha" to define spirituality which means "tranquil abiding". One of the values in my life is Happiness and it always seems that the key to this is within my definition of spirituality.

My heart is so heavy thus in this state of being happy with a light heart seems impossible however, there are things I have to do so that I can relax such as letting go of the thought of perfection since this is NOT reality and admitting I don't know something.

Returning to the idea of the "Beginner's mind", as coined by Zen Master Shunryu Suzuki, is about "discovering the essence of our humanness" in other words our true nature and an attitude of divine possibilities.

While I continue to consider my definition of spirituality, I do know that it involves happiness, living gleefully in the present, balancing the mind, body, heart and spirit.

What is spirituality to you?

[Quotes to follow]

*Lesser, E. (1999). "The Seeker's Guide: Making Your Life A Spiritual Adventure." Villard: New York

Breaking It Down

I have been experiencing loads of blocks and decided that this is probably because I over complicate things thus adding more to my mental reducing any chance to have a clear mind. I'm going to start HERE, today because I have like 50 blog pages for various aspects of myself however TODAY I have making a merge. If I feel like posting a story, my academic experience, my spiritual journey, etc...its all me at the end of the day paddling through the murky water of life.

Update on my "currentlies" :

Reading: The Seeker's Guide by Elizabeth Lesser
Eating: Raw and Clean
Loving: ME
Drinking: Water and Rejuvelac
Wearing: Size "shut your mouth"
Hair-Style: Kinky Twists
Thinking: About my present and future
Feeling: Pensive
Studying: IO Psychology, Leadership, Spirituality, Moon Phases
Writing: Master ARP (Applied Research Project)...more on that later

Loving,
ME

The Dream

Quite often I don't remember my dreams but I woke with a crazy name and scenario from it.
I had moved into a place and then immediately had guests. My cousin D shows up with her boyfriend who flipped from being a basketball player to a football player. One day, I came home and saw them going thru a big box of board games so we started playing one on the floor it had red with 100 and green ? coins embedded on them and some cards to read. There was someone who I knew but didn't really like maybe she was a roommate trying to be friendly but because I was out a lot, my cousin and her became close. Mind you I had just moved so I hadn't picked a room so one day I was walking thru the place like wow, this is a nice bathroom but which room is mine since they were both occupied so I started cleaning. Pulled out 4 socks, 3 matched with pink trim and one was mismatched. Put 2 that matched on and started spraying the first room with some liquid but before I could begin the roommate came in and offered to help so I gave her the sock and she started wiping all the surfaces down, all the while talking about wanting to read a book I had or wrote "young lovers or lovers and sins" I walked out of the room saying my cousin was reading it. Was on my way to the living room to sweep the floor which was carpet because my subconscious didn't even think about a vacuum.

Jean-gac was the name that came into my head before I woke up. Not sure why!

Becoming a Woman

Netflix drops gifts into my mailbox on a weekly basis, some are expected while others are careful disguised jewels that leave me emotional and thoughtful. The recent movie I saw tugged at my heart strings and I'm glad I decided to watch "Bedtime Stories" prior to experience the horrors of "Maya".

It depicits a young girl's experience of becoming a woman and the celebration it provokes in India. The movie opens to screams of a young girl and a boy beating on a locked door. Sanjay is a mischevious young man whose sidekick in his life is his sister Maya, an equally exhuberant child. They do everything together from pranks on the local shopkeepers to sharing a bed until Maya's period comes on. The response is startling and confusing to the children especially because Maya has no idea why she is told not to exert herself, asked to wear a clothe and is suddenly a woman not a child. The family returns to the village Maya was born in to have a huge celebration and prayer festive in the honor of puberty. Sanjay is feeling left out during all the preparation for this big day yet and does things to stir up drama which further isolates him from Maya. Part of the celebration is for the family to have a holy priest precede over the prayer ceremony and to cater a big meal for the village.

It troubled me how Sanjay felt something wasn't right about the priest and no one listened to him. Too often children's voices are ignored because adults believe they know what's right. Its important that adults are aware of how children respond to other adults as they might be indicators of who that person really is.

The prayer ceremony consists of Maya, the priest and his four cohorts in a temple which was locked once they entered. Prior to entering, Maya began to feel strangely and started to hesitate but continued inside and again felt odd and resisted physically and verbally with screams to no avail. Her family waited outside the door smiling, ignoring her merciless screams and feeding guests while those men took turns raping her.

Sanjay was the only one asute enough to even try and help but his father beat him and scolded him for embarrassing the family. When it was over, Maya limped out of the temple disheveled looking while these Holy men smiled and said she had a pure soul and God really loved her. It sickened me to watch how the family catered and bestowed all this graciousness to these men that just raped their child. I wondered if the family knew what the prayer ceremony consisted of and if so why would anyone condone the deflowering of a child to a group of men.

Even though Indian Government forbids these practices, NGO's estimates 5,000 to 15,000 girls are still dedicated to such or similar practices every year.

The film was based on a few practices such as "Devdasi", "Jogini" and "Anang Dana Pratana".

"The things which the child loves remain in the domain of the heart until old age. The most beautiful thing in life is that our souls remain hovering over the places where we once enjoyed ourselves." - Kahlil Gibran

The Prize - unedited

The day always held such electricity for the adults and kids in Coffin Park. The Coffin Park neighborhood had a Halloween tradition of randomly selecting 13 houses to judge the costumes and tricks. This forced the kids to parade around to each house hoping a glass eye, severed finger, a bat wing or bloody heart was dropped into their bag. Each item had a different score to it and it changed yearly so it kept the kids eagerly awaiting the results at the bonfire.

Sampson, a ten year old with the hair and mind of Einstein with a dark side, planned out his costume months in advance with his mom at the craft store and a crayon sketch to use as inspiration. Plastic and store brought costumes were for amateurs. Sampson considered himself an expert of All Hallows Eve, he studied the origin and had read all literature about the day, it was his absolutely favorite holiday. He planned on winning the prize this year and had canvassed the neighborhood to try to figure out which houses were judging this year.

As the sun began the set, Sampson finished putting the final touches of his makeup on and looked at himself in the mirror. He then heard the howl that marked it was time for trick or treating, smiling he set out to make this his year. This year started off differently as Sampson walked outside and felt a chill move onto his sandaled feet and gave him goosebumps. The little kids skipped down the sidewalk dressed as princesses and superheroes and Sampson scowled at them. He stopped at the edge of his first house and watched as the porch light flickered on and off as an skeletal hand gave out candy. His focus wasn't the candy but the prize so he had to watch closely on what was dropped into each bag. People were sneaky.

Stepping up to the door, he began to sweat and felt like someone was behind him. He turned around and found a strange sight all the lights were flickering on and off and no one was on the street. Where did the little kids go? His hand touched the door and he shivered and held out his bag and whispered "Trick or treat" while the skeletal hand dropped a glass eye in his bag along with bubble gum. "Thank you" as he turned around to a gang of kids running up and down the sidewalk. Every house he went to he had hot flashes that were followed by chills. His bag was getting heavy and he still hadn't gotten a heart yet and time was running out. Sampson stood in front of two houses, Ms. Ruth and Mr. Jacobs. Mr. Jacobs was an old man who thought having several different pairs of dentures and sending kids into his study to find his glasses in a drawer that held more than 50 pair was funny. Ms. Ruth smelled like moth balls and never gave candy instead she had a bag full of miscellaneous items that she gave out so of course no one liked going to her house. Sampson stood between the two houses and something flew by his head causing him to move toward Ms. Ruth's house. Walking up to her door, he saw the light flicker and he heard the light bulbs pop and go out as he touched the door.

Ms. Ruth opened the door quickly, "Come in boy!"
Sampson wasn't expecting to go inside the house and he knew if he didn't arrive back at the bonfire before the final howl he would be disqualified but he let her shoo him in. Her house was dark except for the candles burning and something smelled dead. "Ms. Ruth, I have to go the bonfire should be starting soon." His voice and body tense as his eyes struggle to see through the darkness.
"No worries, young man" "I hold the key to that prize you crave so dearly"
His body relaxed and his breathing calmed a bit, "Ok, so where's the prize and what IS that smell?"
She laughs "That my dear is the prize. Come with me." She grabs his hand sending a icy jolt through his body as they head towards the kitchen and the smell got stronger with each step.
"Umm, Ms. Ruth" His eyes watching a pot boil on the stove and his feet became heavy as she went over to stir the contents "What's in the pot?"
She pulls out a ladle and a bowl, "Have a seat Sampson. Your reward is near after you have had a bowl of my Wolfat stew. Each year one person is selected to eat a bowl of this Coffin Park specialty and this is your year."
She pushes the bowl towards Sampson and the candle light flickered revealing the contents in the bowl: a severed finger, a bat wing and the heart of an animal in a garlicky broth. Strangely, Sampson began shaking and salivating and before he knew what was happening his fingers were in the bowl grabbing at the contents and shoving them into his mouth. He was disgusted by his behavior yet couldn't seem to control himself. As he ate his senses grew stronger and he heard something deep inside rumble. He felt the need to run and Ms. Ruth already had the door open as his metamorphis began. Sampson fell to his knees and ran out of the house on his newly formed paws with delight as he stopped and looked up at the moon and began to howl and happy song. He had heard the legend of Coffin Park that there were Wolf and Bat People living among regular people and he did all he could to be the prize this halloween. He trotted towards the bonfire to reveal himself to the others with pride.

Feelings

Been feeling a myriad of emotions lately. I guess that's the purpose of the fast to be more aware of my emotions and how I'm feeling but I swear I feel like skin tingling in anticipation of the unknown. I'm feeling my heart beat and skip to the rhythm of my thoughts both negative and positive. I feel like my eyes are crossed and my mind in cloudy and I'm walking through a fog but I'm not feeling the moisture cause my mouth feels dry. I'm feeling like my air is labored and it hurts to inhale or exhale deeply. I feel like I'm being bound and gagged and can't move. I feel helpless as if I am paralyzed from head to toe. I feel like the more I have to focus the more panic I experience. My mind is running in circles to no where, heart is confused because of the harden that is slowly happening. My spirit is wandering aimlessly through the life on auto pilot. No gas pedal or brake, I'm just on cruise leaving a trail of sparks behind.

I ME Wed

Things You'll Need

* Open heart
* Self love
* A willingness to throw out old habits and self loathing

Steps 1. Set Your Intention.

Work out what you want to achieve by marrying yourself. For example, "a lifelong commitment from a partner in a relationship that exudes happiness at every turn." Before you can expect this commitment from someone else, you must first promise that you will do everything in your power to give this to yourself, every day.

2. Throw Out Self Loathing.

Looking in the mirror and criticizing your imperfections? Laughing off compliments and dismissing nods to your brilliance? Flying under the radar so your super-stardom goes unnoticed? These are classic signs that you have a degree of self-loathing. Self-loathing only serves to block you from finding happiness within. When you radiate unhappiness, you attract unhappy people. Unhappy people are generally commitment-phobes. So get over yourself girl, and repeat after me: "Self-loathing is for suckers."

3. See Yourself As Goddess.

Begin to notice your perfections when you look in the mirror. Receive compliments as graciously and copiously as you give them. Say "yes, yes, YES" a lot, with revellious and delightful energy. Practice shameless acts of joy and master joyous acts of shame. Affirm yourself daily with delicious words including "magical, mystical, sparkling, juicy, ethereal, beauty, intuitive, divine." When you see yourself as Goddess, this is the gorgeous energy you radiate and hence, you begin to attract similarly gorgeous people into your life.

4. Be Your Own Best Friend.

Tell yourself jokes. Spoil yourself rotten. Keep yourself entertained by doing what YOU want to do. Write down a promise to self that you will "never put baby in the corner." Flick "friends" that dare to support habits of self-loathing. Become a magnet to new friends that are a reflection of your perfection.

5. Create Your Day.

Now that you are your own little solar system and the brightest little star at the centre of your own cosmos, it is time to invite family and friends who love you as much as you love yourself, and to help you celebrate your rocking divinity. Picture your perfect ceremony in your head, see the smiling faces of your friends as they witness your joy, play with wedding vows until you have the perfect expression of your perfect self.

6. Let the Party Begin.

Set the date, find your venue, send out invitations, and let the party of self-love begin.

Tips & Warnings

* Go overboard with fun and self-love.

* Do not marry yourself if you hear voices in your head that serve to sabotage your intentions for true, everlasting, undying, fulfilling, rip-roaring LOVE.

In medias res - The Secret Within

In the waiting room having a panic attack. I need to tell him everything! But can I?

Keith has always been a straight shooter and respected people more if they just told the truth. The consequences were increased with each word courage permitted. My hands were soaking the lap of my raw silk dress as I look over at his hulk-like body as he sits awkwardly in the regular people chairs. He is a beautiful man with an immaculately groomed goatee, huge callused hands with a huge white smile that hides so much pain. This is a big day for him but I am looking for a way out. If I walk into the doctor's office with him, as he refuses to let me do this alone, he will find out. I considered fainting but realized that it would put myself in the pit of damnation where I have no control. I'm afraid if he finds out he will love me less and worse of all fear me.

Fear is always the thing that prevents me from just opening my mouth and just telling him. But there is a time and a place for everything. And I'm not sure if there will ever be a time to tell him this particular truth.

"Babe, are you okay?" His deep tenored voice rouses me out of my thoughts as he pulls my stiff body closer to him, leans down and kiss my slightly damp forehead.


I smile weakly at him and croak tentatively. "We need to talk."


He looks at me questioning through his warm chestnut eyes and instead of saying anymore he stood up and went over to the plexiglass window to inform the receptionist that we were stepping outside.

We met under the most discreet circumstances as I am a psychic or medium as we prefer to be called these days. Keith Bachallard was referred to me by a colleague who used my services to find a kidnapped little girl named Amber. Keith wanted desperately to become a detective and join the elite special forces of this club as he was also a former Army soldier who carried quite a bit of importance in certain circles. He barged into my parlor with a chip on his shoulder and scepticism glistening on his lips as I drank my morning tea and read the newspaper on my velvet gold couch. My clientele is referral based with the occasional random curiosity seeker who heard rumors that fortunes are told here. Thankfully, my antique store with its ever-changing window dressing allows me to maintain my eccentric nature and use this to deter the rumors since its against the law to practice parapsychology.



As soon as he opened his mouth, I knew I would fall hard for him. "Jesenia Christianson?" He asked accusingly. He hands were held in a tight fist and his mouth, that beautiful mouth that sang my name, was frowning.



I slowly put down my cup of tea and folded my newspaper and stood up as I placed it on the small table beside the couch. I put my hand out to make his acquaintance and smiled sweetly. "Oh, it's so wonderful to make your acquaintance."



He winced as though I had thrown boiling water on him. It was apparent that he was the type that liked to intimidate and control people and situations. Little did he know I only deal with people's authentic self even if they have no idea who that self is. This is typical practice for me to remove the cloaks and facades within seconds and deal with only the person that is within.



The secret to my success, however, is the aching in my bones I get when there are negative and dark energies within a certain distance of me. With Keith, my bones tingled with delight so I knew he was the man for me. As soon as our hands touched, he was dismantled in a matter of minutes and five years later, we sat in a doctor's office awaiting results of fertility tests.


We find a comfortable bench across the street to sit on. Even though Keith got his wish by solving the case years ago and was promoted to detective he still found it difficult to read me. So, he sat looking at me and waited for me to begin.


Taking a deep breath and wringing my hands. I can't believe I allowed the tingles in my bones to get the best of me because no one ever understands the full magnitude of the secret I hold within. "I am not who or even what you think I am. I've told you from day one that I couldn't give you children. I suggested we adopt instead you have put me a position to tell you a truth I can't bare to share." I can't bare to look at him if I want to keep my courage but I peek out the corner of my eye and see him staring intently at me. He has always spoken about wanting to having children and told me after we had been together for two year he was insisting that I was the woman he wanted to sire children with.


"I can have a children but..." I continue because I can tell that he wants to hear me out. "I can't have children that you can raise up and call your own. It's all very complicated but even the doctor would not be able to explain this situation. I have an extra chromosome that allows me to reproduce without the assistance of a man."


"So what are you saying you don't need me to get pregnant?" Keith clears his throat which is an indicator that he is confused. He is staring at the side of my face as if willing me to look at him. I turn towards him and slowly nod my head and put my hand up so he knows I have more to reveal. Laughing nervously to myself, that wasn't even the real bomb.

"I was born centuries ago into a life where I was an orphaned outcast with a revered brother. Everyone knows of his birth and death I never understood why I was ignored and and many thought I died and didn't care to know about my rebirth. The night I died I went into labor and gave myself life again."


"What do you mean, you gave yourself life after death?" Keith was rubbing his goatee inquisitively. I stare in shocked that he doesn't seem alarmed by this nugget of information. I guess he is scrambling my ability to predict his reaction because I anticipated anger and unbelief at this point.


"Well, what this means is in order to live I give birth and..." I look at the doctor's building and count cars. This is the hard part of the revelation because I've never gotten to this point with any man in my lifetime. Usually they are seeking to Baker Act me for even suggesting Jesus is my brother and that I was born "with Christ". I've never said it out loud either but he is staring at me with an inquiry that is full of open mindedness. I close my eyes and finish "I have to eat the flesh of the seed."


I open my eyes and look at him as he stroke his goatee and stands up. He walks towards the street slowly. He gets blurry as my eyes begin tearing up, I let the tears fall freely when I hear his voice softly in my ear. "Can we keep one?"

Anew ME

This weekend, I really got into the cleaning and purging spirit in my study. During this time, I ran across pages and pages of words I've strung into a line called a sentences and pieced together to form a unique jewel called writing. Its always delightful to re-visit and touch my jewels. They remind me of the gift that I have and encourage me to spin and weave more often for the fun of it. I'm here to say...I am back, anew ME!

Watch out world, here I come to dazzle you with my wordplay and twisting plots.

If this is your first time visiting this site...I have a few stories at the very beginning with articles I found during my knowledge surfing as fillers until I returned!

VA

Tears for Fears

Seasons change, feelings change and people change.

Interestingly enough, I was born in the fall yet my entire being goes into hibernation as soon as the weather drops a degree minus a fahrenheit. I have been falling deeper and deeper into a sleep stupor that I have been trying to busy away to no avail. I'm moving slower and body parts are starting to ache and creak like an old house.

I was watching the Biggest Loser and I had an epiphany about all the emotional cleansing that goes on. The lack of their comfort foods is the reason why they all are weepy. I know if I wasn't able to go to the bodega downstairs and get a Little Debbie or a bag of chips I would be the biggest crybaby. Seriously, they would hate me for all the whining I would do. I'm not proud of my junk addiction but I'm honest about it. I know I need to shake it for the betterment of self but it's so very complex.

All my feelings rise to the surface during this time of year. I really get to see people for truly who they are but more important I see myself. I have been having out of body experiences where I have watched myself in action and honestly I didn't like what I saw. I'm on the road of being a bitter, selfish woman unless I change things soon. The road less traveled is one of discomfort and I am making steps to embrace it. I'm a ball buster because I'm a controlling, domineering bitch who is afraid of her own shine so she stands in the shadows like a shrinking violet.

Beginnings Exercise 3

Alice Leung has discovered the secrets of bats: how they see without seeing, how they own darkness, as we own light. She walks the halls with a black headband across her eyes, keening a high C ----- cheat cheat cheat cheat cheat cheat ----- never once veering off course, as if drawn by an invisible thread. Echolocation, she tells me, it’s not as difficult as you might think. Now she sees a light around objects when she looks at them, like halos on her retinas from staring at the sun. In her journal she writes, I had a dream that was all in blackness. Tell me how to describe.
It is January: my fifth month in Hong Kong.
In the margin I write, I wish I knew.

After six, when the custodians leave, the school becomes a perfect acoustic chamber; she wanders from the basement laboratories to the basketball courts like a trapped bird looking for a window. She finds my door completely blind, she says, not counting flights or paces. Twisting her head from side to side like Stevie Wonder, she announces her progress: another room mapped, a door, a desk, a globe, detected and identified by its aura.

--Jess Row, “The Secret of Bats” From Ploughshares and 2001 Best American Short Stories

The first thing the author chose to present was the fact that this young school girl from Hong Kong had done something remarkable; discovered a secret. In the first sentence it is blatant of who the story is about and rationale behind the title, in that makes one want continue reading to learn how she made the discovery.

We meet the narrator and Alice Leung in this first paragraph. It is unknown at this point what relationship they have however it’s clear that Alice confides in the narrator and seeks advisement. The journal exchanges lets us know that the narrator is someone of authority, a teacher maybe.

Questions that are raised in my mind as a reader are:
Why has Alice decided to confide in the narrator, is it because they are both different?
How could one describe an all black dream?
Can you see auras of objects in the dark? Are they different from those we see in the light?
Is this discovery considered a difficulty feat?

I think the writer chose to start this way because it’s an intriguing setup to a story that shows a young lady who is obviously lonely, since she is hanging around school after six, and just makes you wonder what is going on at home as well as what bought on her interest in the secret of bats. It’s a different take on the education of bats that makes you realize she is unique in her thoughts. The only really inclination that the teacher/narrator might be curious is in the simple response in margin of Alice’s margin. It draws us all into the secret one girl has.

Critical Reflection #1

In the introduction of The Best American Short Stories, Barbara Kingsolver states "I love it for what it tells me about life. If it tells me something I didn't already know, or that I maybe suspected but never framed quite that way, or that never before socked me divinely in the solar plexus, then the story is worth the read." Its amazing how the things we consider to be less than normal draws us in day by day, inch by inch. The Secret of Bats is a story that does this as it truly touches two lonely individuals and connects them in a way that no one could ever understand. Its not often enough that we allow ourselves to go beyond the surface to actually feel the spirit in all in which is around us.

The story fits Kingsolver’s statement perfectly in that from the beginning the audience is drawn into this strange girl from Hong Kong and her obsession with bats. Her obsession was not one we can all consider ourselves to be familiar with instead hers was deep in that she wanted to know how bats recognized each other based solely on sound. I think Kingsolver had this surprise in mind because indeed as the story moves along the reason is revealed and it is intriguing. There is a since of wonderment in the story that after reading it you can’t help but stop and think of how would you recognize a loved one.

Kingsolver’s idea of what makes a short story good fits the idea of where I want to go as an artist. It is clearly the rebel within that requires me to find a way to shock someone into wanting more. As a writer, an individual I am constantly seeking new ways to explain things. Now, I think the idea that is different however needed in my writing is a reason for telling the story. I think Kingsolver is absolutely right that the stories that we hold near and dear are those in which taught us a truth about life and even most so, ourselves.

In the stories I write I look for familiarity with a mysterious quirk. In mysterious, I simply mean something that draws us closer, that makes us want to know more. I love characters who are both sad and humorous because I think they represent how I see life. If I can see the movements and hear the ripples in the story, that to me is good fiction. Even more so, if afterwards I am having a conversation with someone and I revert back to something in the story and repeat it as though it were a truth. I’m sure others have had that moment where you recall an event and can’t pinpoint where you received the information. That’s good stuff to me because it has become two things; something I hold truth and believe and something that made an impression on me enough to remember and want to share.

As I have said before I am not good with having a reason, moral, which leads to the ultimate weakness lacking voice. Voice is knowing your beliefs, truths and sharing them with the world. I think to have a voice comes when one believes in themselves and what they have to offer those around them.