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Unable to Connect

bad connection

There are few moments that stand out as pivotal when it comes to my developing self. Today I experienced a disconnect clearly, and it was extremely unsettling.

How many special people change?
How many lives are living strange?
Where were you while we were getting high?

My go-to for writing is usually a Starbucks. Not original, I know, but it has worked for me for a long time; the chill music at just the right volume, people sauntering in cooly giving orders for extra-hot-no-whip-soy-double-shot beverages, while trying to look like they’re not checking out who looks more saucv than them while dredging out their phones to connect to the free wifi and talk at a volume just loud enough to feel important, about their co-workers’ annoying habits to their pal with the great hair who just ran through the door, out of breath and ready to talk about just how damn busy their life is.

Slowly walking down the hall
Faster than a cannonball
Where were you while we were getting high?

So, today I walked into the Starbucks in Unionville, which offered all of the above.  A special beverage juste pour moi, and enough noise to give me something to work against.

I wasn’t aware of why, but I felt it. At the the counter, I suddenly felt dumb (as in gobsmacked). The atmosphere around me buzzed with an energy that made me totally uncomfortable.  I fumbled to figure out what I wanted (normally a latte or a tall, full-bodied brew in a grande cup with lots of room for cream, or maybe even an iced chai latte with very light ice and non-fat milk), so I just ordered English breakfast tea, my simple go-to-comfort drink.

I juggled my laptop and milky tea to the middle of the shop and looked for a seat. I chose the one next to the Spanish looking fellow who was plugged into his phone, singing Oasis at the top of his lungs and making everyone else feel more than slightly uncomfortable. It was either him, some guy in a button-down and tie trying to look like he was working, and an  Asian lady looking anxiously at the guy singing, like he might suddenly jump up and mug her right there in the middle of an upper-middle-class afternoon.

The crazy guy seemed like the only reasonable, and sane choice. Everyone else was wearing a mask – you know what I mean, looking but trying not to. Caring what everyone else thinks, but enjoying being on show. They hugged their paper cups like cocktails in a 1940’s thriller. The crazy guy was more my speed.

Someday you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova in the sky
Someday you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova
A champagne supernova in the sky

He turned his head and looked right at me. We were just inches apart. I looked right back and stared into his eyes, “Hello” I said. He turned away  and kept on singing.

Wake up the dawn and ask her why
A dreamer dreams she never dies
Wipe that tear away now from your eye

For some reason I could not connect. My laptop froze in the ether of this moment of self-discovery.  I’d connected at Starbucks a zillion times all over the world without a problem, but today it just wasn’t happening.

Realizing that I was just wasting my time trying to plug in to the rest of the world via my 12″ screen,  I decided to spread out at the bar if front of the floor to ceiling window that lines Main Street.  A plastic-enhanced woman in a white jacket swooned that she could not believe that I was leaving a corner seat as she slid over and let me know that she was expecting an important client (the crazy dude had already left).

Important clients deserve more than in indiscreet conversation in a public, brand-name coffee shop, but for some reason they settle for it. I moved and let her have the corner office.

Having just come back from a vacation where there is an overtly open relationship regarding the energy exchange of buying and selling, engaging or disengaging from those around you, I suddenly realized that this aloof, dare I say, apathetic environment no longer serves me.  It’s just more distilled in places like Starbucks where everyone thinks they’re special because they’re not at the Tim Horton’s Drive Thru.

I wrote, people came and went, and I missed  simple, authentic interaction with other human beings.

This was not the environment I wanted or needed. I packed up my kit, and strode back to my car, hair blowing in the wind, yellow jacket shining against the overcast skies of a colder than usual spring.

Zipping past the boutiques that line this picturesque little part of my community, I noticed another cafe – Chee Organic Cafe, and I made an note to drop in tomorrow. Maybe I can connect there.

How many special people change?
How many lives are living strange?

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Happy Hour – Right After Closing Time

A few weeks ago during a conversation with one of my very close, wise, and kindred-who-gives-a-flying-patoot-what-anyone-else-thinks friend, I decided that I would not have any serious  discussions (especially with my sweetheart) after 8:30 pm.

Really, who wants anything too heavy before bedtime, whether it be a big dish of pasta, or a big ol’ cup of pissed-off? Nobody. You know why? Because you just can’t digest anything that late. It repeats on you, and leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

In favour of letting my anxiety get the best of me, I’ve decided to let it go. Until I get moving the next morning anyway, and since I’m really not a morning person, that means sometime after 10am.

With all of that designated, “No Bitching” time, I’ve discovered a couple of things. First of all, I’m happier. As in way happier. I’m not such a snowballing mess of fear and anxiety. Second of all, it’s given me way more time to be grateful.

So if you’re a Type-A-worrying-control-freak, give it a try. You may just find some joy.

 

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Getting Your Goddess Back

“There are only two types of women - goddesses and doormats”~Pablo Picasso~
“There are only two types of women – goddesses and doormats”
~Pablo Picasso~

With love in the air, and all things lining store shelves being red and pink, what better time to reminisce about the great loves of our life who have brought us to where we are today?

Hopefully it’s a place of great self-awareness and blossoming intimacy.

And then again, maybe you’re not in a place of self-awareness and blossoming intimacy.

Perhaps you need a little music to inspire your reminiscing. May I suggest; The Song Remembers When.

Wait.

Go back.

Click through and listen. Trust me – click.

Oh my stars! You do remember don’t you my precious little darlings? All of those deliciously silly things that we used to do when we were so much younger and carefree. All of the fun times we had with the delicious slices of man-pie we used to know so well?

Oh. My. Stars. Remember how fabulous we were? How fearless?

Ah yesle sigh my petite pumpkins, le sigh. Youth is wasted on the young. But it doesn’t have to be.

It seems, for most of us wonderful gals, that something has drugged the wild and crazy goddesses that we once were.  She is curled up resting. Dormant and waiting to stretch, yawn and come alive again. No matter if you’re with the love of your life, or just starting out again looking for your Mr. Right.

You may need to lose a few pounds or tidy up your closet to find that wild and crazy goddess whom you parted from so very long ago.

I have one piece of advice to get your wild and crazy goddess back;

Figure out what you want, and learn how to ask for it. Simple, Non?

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Dreaming in the Gray Area

"To accomplish great things, we must not only act but dream; not only plan, but also believe." ~Anatole France~
“To accomplish great things, we must not only act but dream; not only plan, but also believe.”
~Anatole France~

Last night I had the strangest dream…

I sailed away to China, in a little row boat to find ya….

If you’re a child of the 80’s, you just sang that didn’t you?

Anyway, last night I had a dream. I really do have the strangest dreams, and I pay attention to them.

If I really took the time to listen to the quiet whispering of my dreams and intuition, I’d likely be a lot happier.  Since most people consider me some kind of weird genius twist on a Buddhist-suit-wearing-hippie-mortician, it’s surprising that I don’t do more crazy stuff.

I pay a whole lot more attention to my intuition than the average fabulous man or woman. I make a lot of decisions based on what feels right, and they usually turn out to be exactly the right thing.

Most people see the world in black and white, right and wrong. Sometimes things are that simple, but most of the time they’re not. We only like those kind of definites because our wee little human brains need to compartmentalize in order to keep us relatively sane.

Those of us with creative spirits and open hearts who actually care about the quality of life rather than the quantifiable materialism that seems to define what is normal, know that we live within the gray, and that black and white are merely the adult security blankies of our fragile psyches.

A  few weeks ago, as I was tromping my way up a staircase in high heels and freshly dry-cleaned suit, feeling like death’s older, much more sinister big sister, I thought, “I can’t do this any more”.

Then guess what I did my sweet little peaches? Did I drop to my knees in tears? Did I pack up my big, black briefcase and hand in my name badge? Did march through the office with a bass drum singing, “I quit”? No. I did none of those things. I didn’t even collapse and wave a metaphorical white flag.

Instead, I laughed. Out loud.

I laughed because immediately after I told myself, ” I can’t do this any more”, I immediately thought, “You don’t have to”. That’s what made me laugh.

That crazy well-informed and well schooled voice deep down inside my crazy-wild-woman soul was exactly right.

We always, always, always have a choice. The choices may not be ideal, or the stuff of your favourite fairytale, but we always have a choice.

Since then I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about where I want to steer this crazy bus of a life. I haven’t made a list of pro’s and con’s. I haven’t loaded up on self-help books and popular psycho-babble poo-ha.

I have let the uncertainty roam freely about in the glorious unknown corners of my human spirit. Eventually something will come to light out of the darkness, and I will be off in what will likely be an unexpected direction to an unknown destination. It is after all, about the journey folks.

I don’t know when, I don’t know how, what, where, or if anyone will accompany me. I just know that it will happen.

So, last night I had this dream, and it was a weird one, fueled by a late  dinner, wine, vampire stories  and a fever. But I trust it. I bother with it. I consider it, look up the meaning of elements that make up the whole, and I learn what my soul is trying so hard to  to tell me.

Shhh. If you listen, you’ll know what to do next. I promise sweetheart,  I promise.

 

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How To Not Suck At Anything

scream nowFirst, just admit that you do, indeed, suck.

Whether you look at the stats, or sit at home wondering where your prince charming is, or continuously hear your teenager’s door slam. Sometimes you just can’t get it right.

Sometimes the key to not sucking is to admit defeat.

Sorta.

Do not admit defeat and then drown yourself in Kit-Kat bars, Fruli Strawberry Beer and fashion magazines. You know, if that’s your sort of thing.

Admit almost defeat. And by almost, I mean hang on and be tenacious with one hand, and ask for help with the other.

Yes, it’s a fine balance my dear ones.

Admit you’ve reached your limit, and then let someone else’s experience, imagination and fresh perspective inspire you.

It’s very difficult to do. I know that, because I’ve recently just had to do that. And it sucked. Hard.

I am very much a type ‘A’ person, a get out and get it done kinda gal.  I have a quiet competitive nature, and when I don’t excel at something, it eats me up inside.

Recently I had to make a very difficult decision. Part of making the decision that I did, involved knowing that I needed help to achieve what I wanted, and what I know that I can.

So, I shall enjoy my white wine spritzers when I come home and close the door on my work day. I will meditate, nurture my body with healthy food, and my mind with positive affirmations.

Hopefully a month from now, having eaten my pride, I will not suck….as much, and I’ll be closer to accepting that I’m far from perfect.

Pour a glass of your best therapist, and listen to a little Frankie Miller…you’re not alone in your ‘sucking at some things’…we all suck sometimes. But you’re going to be ok kid…

 

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“Find what you love, and do THAT”

Easier said than done darlings...
Easier said than done darlings…

Yes, it’s just one of the more endearing quotes that plaster my social media walls.

Find what you love, and do that.

It sounds blissfully simple doesn’t it my darlings.?

Simply wake up every day, and do what makes your heart pitter-patter a little bit faster, makes your smile that much more toothy, and your entire aura vibrate to a wonderfully tuned and heavenly, “Om”.

Last week I promised myself that I would dedicate one full hour every day to something that makes my life brighter, happier, and more bearable. I promised myself that I would commit to at least one hour of writing novel number two.

 

My writing fell off the radar in the midst of job changes, sports momming and keeping the lights on. When my writing suffers, the rest of my life suffers.

After all, we are what we think, aren’t we darlings?

When I’m not writing, my imagination swells and puts pressure on the rest of my brain, and I lose my sense of humour, fun and wonder. Instead I get restless, impatient, and fabulously assertive.

I’ve reached that wonderful age where I know what I love, but I’ve got myself in a pay-the-bills rut.

I will share with you my “Love To Do” list, which may inspire a list of your very own.

Be sure to pick one thing to do on a daily basis, and a couple to make sure you do at least once a month.

 

LOVE TO DO

1) Writing or reading anything that contributes to creative thought and unleashing your creative spirit.

2) Drinking red wine in the bath followed by a good girl talk via telephone with your bestie who also misses the days before marriage and kiddos.

3) Lingerie and wild, sweaty, mind-blowing sex with a hot lover. Should you be monogamous, you may need a little tweak from a tall glass of bourbon straight up, no rocks. Oh, that’s just for the change room sweetie. I suggest something much stronger immediately prior to the boudoir. Everyone just looks and feels more sensual when their inhibitions are low sweetie. Don’t be shy, keep pouring…

4) Enjoying the great outdoors. Walking, hiking, running, hell, even sitting on a bench where you can see a patch of dirt. It’s all good.

5) Meditation. When you’re too busy to sit, you may as well quit. Do not do this under the influence of vino or your adult substance of choice, otherwise you may just completely blow your own little mind sweetie.

6) Flirting. Yep, you got it. Just do it. I had believed for a long, long time that I had lost my ability to flirt. It’s true, if you don’t use it, you lose it. Lately I’ve been practicing, and needless to say ladies and gents, there are a few boys out there feeling pretty darn hot. Flirting – it’s a win-win.

7) Taking a day off and having absolutely no set agenda. Nothing, not even plans to get out of bed and put on your sassy little panties. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Just roll out of the sack when you feel rested and go from there.

8) Intellectual conversation that borders on madness. Of course you must socialize in proper society, as this one requires a more sophisticated partner, but I know you have the connections pussy cat. Oh, and something deliciously intoxicating to sip, in order to fuel the madness.

9) Art. View it, feel it, create it. Just DO it. It untangles your perceptions and creates that je ne sais quoi that makes you brilliant and beautiful.

10) Kissing. Lots of it. On the lips. Soft, wet, hard, light, intense, whatever…just kiss and keep kissing like your clothes are crazy glued on and that’s the only way you can connect with your lover.

I hope this inspires a little more ‘you’ time my delicious darlings.

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Spirituality for Dummies

being a spiritual person

 

Bells went off when I read this. Every once in a while, I lose my cool, fall down, make a mistake, screw up…you get the picture. I used to berate myself for it, but now I just realize every time this happens, it’s an opportunity to learn.

If a relationship makes you angry all the time – get out. If your job makes you angry all the time – get out. If any situation, person or relationship brings out ugly qualities you try to hide, don’t just cover it up and move on.

Be with the discomfort. Be with your dark side. Learn that every emotion, even anger, fear, resentment and jealousy are part of what it means to be human. Take time to be with that messy stuff and learn from it.

Oh yes, you may also want to distance yourself from the people who turn you from beauty into beast.

Trust me, next time it will be easier, not last as long or cut so deep.

Being spiritual doesn’t mean attaining some bullshit ideal. It means being honest, real, emotional and raw.

Being spiritual equates to being fearless when it comes to holding a mirror up to your own expectations, and the reality that is your humanity in all it’s splendour, and with all of it’s scars.

Above all, being spiritual means trekking deep into the heart of your darkest emotions and confronting the demons.

So laugh, dance, kiss, make wild passionate love, throw out the odd f-word if you must. Be you. You’re perfect.