rant

Do you remember Kathy Smith, the star of many fitness videos? I found a couple of her videos at the thrift store today and decided to hop online and see what she had to say for herself these days. It turns out that she has quite a lot to say.

Click here to check out Kathy Smith’s fitness blog.

She is pro women’s sports, pro exercising and eating healthy, pro women of all shapes and sizes, and anti-deprivation. So, I think she’s my kind of gal. I found many of her posts to be really inspiring (even though some also link to her products.)

Check out what she says about deprivation:

“I’ve noticed that most people get caught up in that vicious cycle of dieting and then blowing the diet. It usually goes like this: You’re unhappy with the way you look and feel. You seek a diet that promises instant weight loss through complete control of what, when, and how you eat. Soon you discover that you can’t stick with it, and you end up right back where you started…

“To be successful, you have to move out of a diet mentality. Most plans don’t take into account what food really means to us. They don’t consider how the flavor and color and texture and presentation of food can give us so much pleasure. They don’t consider how eating foods that you don’t like leaves you unsatisfied.

“It was a good reminder for me today that, as I support others in their efforts to lose weight, choosing foods you truly love and that also enhance your physiological well-being are the key to becoming an independent eater.”

Well said, Kathy! And a timely reminder for me as I was about to launch into diet-like behavior by eating a protein shake on a regular basis, rather than a really yummy breakfast. My diet like thoughts may help explain why I was eating cake mix out of the package with a spoon this week. (I know, pretty image.)

When I just decide to eat really delicious and mostly healthy food, I end up eating a very healthy, balanced diet. (It doesn’t necessarily make me lose weight, but I do feel and look healthier.) But if I start thinking that I need to get thinner and then focus on that goal, the fearful gorging begins.

Breathe in, deep breath. I’m letting go of needing to look a certain way. That won’t guarantee me love. People of all shapes and sizes are loved. (I’m already loved, why am I trying to get all thin to get love?) Just focus on moving my awesome body and eating very delicious, mostly healthy food. Breath out…

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I just read a really interesting book called Awaken Your Strongest Self by Neil Fiore. It’s a little strange on first glance but I bought it based on the amazingness of his last book The Now Habit which is a highly lauded book about how to overcome procrastination. I read it before my last semester of grad school and the method he suggested really worked for me

In his new book, he talks about how the different parts of our brain can work together in harmony. There are a few ideas in his book that I’d tweak and some additional information I think would be useful to add that I might talk about in another post. He suggests a lot of homework that I haven’t done yet, so I can’t speak to the effectiveness of this program. I have hung a lot of the affirmations he suggests up in my house and I’m beginning to see the value and wisdom of them.

In his book, he says that, among other parts, we have the emotional legacy of our baby self who had limitless possibilities and was all powerful. About typical affirmations that say that anything is possible he says, do you really want your two year old self running the show? Hmmm… Read below to see they type of statements he suggests you tell yourself.

AWAKEN YOUR STRONGEST SELF: Speaking from Your Higher Brain*
Neil Fiore, PhD

When you, from the perspective and roles of your Strongest Self, speak these compassionate statements to the frightened and overwhelmed parts of you, you can:

• Create inner peace by connecting your identity to something stronger and wiser than your ego
• Transition to a new, robust self-image
• Access support and strength to cope with changing situations and relationships
• Reduce the stress and anxiety of struggling alone, separated from your True Self
• Empower yourself with the protective role, higher perspective, and compassionate voice of your Strongest Self

The following inner dialogue is more powerful than typical affirmations because you are speaking to a part of you that is separated from your larger support system and, therefore, is easily overwhelmed and stressed. You are empowered to protect and guide the parts that have limited––and out-dated––ways of coping with life. You, from your new perspective, can shift to an expanded identity that empowers you to protect your body and smaller “selves” and guide them toward inner peace.

In the compassion voice of your Strongest Self, you replace stress with safety and
connection by saying:

• Regardless of what happens in life, your worth is always safe with me.
• Regardless of what you can or cannot do, you are always worthwhile.
• Regardless of whether you win or lose, you deserve love, pleasure, and freedom from self-criticism.
• Regardless of what happens to you, you deserve to be treated with dignity and respect. I will always respect my life and my body.
• Regardless of who stays or who goes, I am on my side. I will never abandon you. [My tweak: "... I will always stay with you."]
• Regardless of how healthy or ill you become, I appreciate the effort, wisdom, and protection given me by you, my body and my spirit.
• Regardless of how negative or intense your emotions, I acknowledge their validity for you, and I accept them completely. I am strong enough to be with your emotions. [My tweak: "Regardless of how positive, negative, intense or mild..."]
• Regardless of how uncomfortable others are with you, your feelings or your body, I will always accept you and remain at peace with you. [My tweak: "Regardless of how comfortable..."]
• Regardless of what happens in life, and regardless of your problems, I accept you and love you completely.
• Regardless of the health or weakness of my body, I can always heal my spirit.

*Adapted from Awaken Your Strongest Self [McGraw-Hill, 2006] and
Coping with the Emotional Impact of Cancer (BayTree, 2008)

© Neil Fiore, Ph.D., 1998-2007 All rights reserved. Permission is granted to reproduce, copy, or
distribute so long as this copyright notice and the full contact information listed below attached.
Neil Fiore, PhD, 1496 Solano Ave., Albany, CA 94706 voice: 510/ 525-2673
www.neilfiore.com www.yourstrongestself.com E-mail: neil@neilfiore.com

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Laura over at Pick Me! posted about hoarding today. I started to respond but it got so long that I decided to make it a post instead of a comment.

*

I grew up with a hoarder and I couldn’t stand it! I was always embarrassed to have my friends over. I wasn’t allowed to throw popsicle sticks or plastic spoons away. Not only couldn’t we throw spoons away, my mom would actually bring home her used plastic spoons from restaurants. We had a whole drawer full of plastic spoons. We had 5 boxes full of rock salt filled with rabbit pelts that my mom was going to make into mittens someday.

I carried those 5 50 pound boxes in two different moves. I was opposed to them killing the rabbits I raised, opposed to saving ridiculous things we were never going to use, and opposed to the hard, meaningless labor of carrying the boxes. Grrr… (Hey, I just thought of something I could say in groups when the leader says to introduce yourself and tell people a fact about yourself that would surprise them!) We had a whole bunch of USED toothbrushes. I threw some of these away once and my mom got very upset with me.

If I lived in my childhood home now it would be fun to do a photo journal of all the strange stuff that we had. Very out of date medicine, old jars of canned tomatoes, piles of fabric, boxes of old game and puzzle pieces, closets full of old clothes, corners crammed with dead relatives furniture, one room just FULL of paper- literally piled to the ceiling with paper, including piles of charity solicitations with free address labels. My mom would keep all the paper work in case she wanted to use the free address labels or free cards they sent. Then she would send them money before she used them.

When I lived with my mom for a couple years as an adult, I made a deal with her that I wouldn’t touch the basement if the upstairs could stay clean. When I got particularly frustrated, I would throw everything that I thought was clutter over the banister down the stairs. (Don’t try this at home.)

I’ve read that hoarding is a reaction to loss and the hoarders in my family did have a lot of loss. It adds credence to the theory that when my mom got remarried she got rid of at least 2/3 of her stuff. It was amazing. It was like she was coming alive again and breaking out of some old tomb and throwing off the shackles of the paper and the unmatched game pieces! In reverse, my auntie, who I love, has become more and more ensconced in things since her husband died.

I love getting rid of things if I know they’ll have a good home. I take car loads and car loads of things to thrift stores. (I don’t shop much so I don’t know how I end up with carloads of things to get rid of.) I live in an apartment without much storage space, so when I decorated for Christmas, I just bought strings of lights at a thrift store for 50 cents and took them back after the holidays! And I love that no new things have to be manufactured when I buy them from a thrift store.

I keep things that are beautiful, useful, and/or happily sentimental. I love that I have distilled the objects around me so that everything I see in my room is something I love. (My roommate is a minimalist and probably thinks I’m a hoarder, so it’s somewhat relative.)

I did learn some good things from my mom’s hoarding behavior. I learned that random bits of junk can be useful in art projects. I think that thriftiness and ecology was tied into my mom’s hoarding behavior. She wanted to use everything and everything has a possible use. It’s like recycling. It’s important to me to recycle. I love composting although I don’t compost right now. (no yard).

I also would never throw useful things in the garbage that someone else could use. I’ve seen other people throw perfectly good CLOTHES into the garbage. GASP! No way. Someone could use that!! So, maybe the basic premise of the hoarder has been passed onto me, I just don’t feel the need to store the objects in my space when there are perfectly good libraries and thrift stores to do that job for me.

* Some of the flowers I bought myself with the flower money my mom sent me this Valentine’s Day with probably my favorite collage I’ve made n the background. Made at my mother’s house it is comprised of a bottle of glue I was going to use as glue, it was dried out though, so I cut it open and taped the glue and glue bottle to the collage, which I put in an old frame we had lying around.

Tags: hoarding, mom, family, thrift, recycling, grief

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Hi,

My name is Braidwood and I can not stand books that are fundamentalist when it comes to gender. You know the ones, “The Rules”, “Men are from Mars, Women don’t have a penis.” (or something like that.)

I have a couple friends right now who are really into a workshop that tells them all about what men are like and how men like to be talked to. (ARGH) It’s irritating, but because I love them I’ve thought about the appeal and I think it is this: relationships can be confusing and a set of simple rules can be comforting. “Finally, things will work out. I didn’t know these rules before, now I do, and I will be loved.”

I think the frustrating thing about it for me is that it is so all or nothing. I’m sure there is some good advice in programs like that, but it is either so freaking simplistic or the advice may be good but not attributable to gender. For example, one piece of advice is to ask a man to help you rather than blame him for not helping you. Men are so different than women, so it is probably hard for you women reading this to understand, but men actually prefer someone to say to them, “Will you please help me do the dishes?” rather than, “Why are you such a slob?! Why haven’t you done the dishes already!!?”

I know, it’s revelatory. I’m starting to question my femininity though because when I haven’t done the dishes I prefer that my roommate asks me to help rather than accuses me of being a slob too! Does this mean I’m not really a girl!?

So… it reminds me a lot of horoscopes. I sort of think it is funny to read a different month’s horoscope to people, because people who believe in horoscopes will say “See! That is so me!” No matter what you read. (I know, mean trick, but it’s so sadly funny.) I did the same thing once when my mom got a copy of “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus.”

My mom, my boyfriend, and I were driving in the car and my mom wanted us to read to her while she drove. I thought it was inane upon first flip through and didn’t want to read it. My mom and boyfriend started in on me *didn’t I know that men and women really are different? — Do I think they’re the same?? — So, I gave in and started to read to them, but I read everything it said about men as if it said it about women and vice versa. “This is so true!” They said, ” You have to admit, this is is so true.” “There’s some truth to it” I admitted, “but don’t you think some of the things I read about the other gender are also true for you?” “Not really, not like what he says about men/women. It is so amazing!” It’s amazing alright.

““““““““

*I always think it’s funny that the first thing people exclaim when I tell them that I don’t hold some stereo-typical view they hold (and these stereotypical views are always different- women are clean, men are messy; men are organized, women are flaky; women are pragmatic, men are more romantic; women are more romantic, men are staid; men focus on details, women see the big picture; men see the big picture, women focus on details! “Tastes great, less filling!”) is that men and women are different! How can I not believe that! Like just because I don’t believe in their stereotype, I have trouble telling men and women apart. HOW DO I FUNCTION with this mental impairment??!

It just makes me laugh. What is all this fuss about men and women being different? Are a whole bunch of people insecure that they are about to be mistaken for the other gender or what? I don’t understand where this intensity around this issue comes from. I know that men and women are different. You would think that as a non-bisexual person, people wouldn’t have to question me knowing that. I only want to have sex with one gender- clearly some differences must have crossed into my blood brain barrier. I just think the differences are self-evident.**

** (I think that if someone has to intensely argue for certain differences, maybe they doth protest too much.)

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Only 9:11 and I’m crying already. I had to close the door to my office. I’m not crying about work though, I’m crying about my roommate telling me that “we are opposite in so many ways” and the implied meaning that I am not her favorite person in the world, and the how that ties in to the pattern that seems to be happening lately of me getting rejected (ejected?) from my old life.

I went from being valued at work and getting good reviews (while my old boss was here) to being disapproved of, undervalued, and feeling bad enough about it to quit. At church, I went from feeling like a part of a loving community to leaving due to actions of our lead minister and staff. Many other young adults left as well, and I left, no one kicked me out, but I still feel rejected/ejected. Also, there has been some kind of shift in my social circle and I feel like I am on the edge in some ways instead of in the middle where I like to be.

Today on the bus I imagined how I would feel if everybody approved of me. It would be such a nice feeling- I could relax and just be myself. I really take how much/many people approve of me as a measure of how well I’m doing as a person sometimes. I thought about it as I was walking from the bus to work, and I couldn’t shake the idea that if more people approved of me, it would mean that I really am better, I really am more ok.

Then I thought of my aunt, who I am a lot alike, and how much I enjoy her, how fantastic I think she is. My other aunt, her sister, often disapproves of her. She thinks she is too messy, too soft, not together enough etc… And when my aunt is around her sister, she does suddenly seem kind of bumbling, somewhat simpering, and whiny. But when I’m with her, she is hilarious, exuberant, smart, interesting, funny, and gorgeous. She is messy, but she is glorious, who cares!

I love both my aunts, and from the outside it is easy to see that my aunt who disapproves is just that way and that her disapproval is all about her preferences and ways of looking at the world. She is cleaner, more direct, more of the things we think of as “together” in our society. So? That’s her deal. My roommate has a similar personality to that aunt and I don’t disapprove of her, but I think she disapproves of me. I’ve been trying to get her approval, and I’m going to try to stop trying. It’s easier to see, looking at the mirror of my aunts, how any disapproval she feels for me is her own deal. It doesn’t mean I’m bad, and if I got her approval, it wouldn’t mean I’d be any better.

I have been disapproving of me lately. Aye, maybe thar’s the rub. Goal for today: list a few things I would feel proud of myself for, and do them.

12/12/07 Update: I have been feeling guilty for writing that my aunt disaproves of my other aunt and that my roommate disaproves of me. Maybe they don’t! guilty, guilty, guilty…arggh… just remember, reality is multi-faceted and it changes, and… did I mention that I like my other aunt and my roommate, and it says more about my state of mind than any objective truth about them, but I think you got that.

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Last year I almost stopped going to church because I felt so harassed by someone. I finally had to learn to tell him that he couldn’t hang out with me. I wrote about a lunch I had with him last year:

I had an awkward “young adult” lunch last week after church. See, there are the old young adults who no longer eat with the official young adult group. Then there is the official young adult group whose numbers are dwindling, because there are a couple (one in particular for me) obnoxious people who others don’t want to eat with.

It’s like an inverted circle of belonging with people in the middle of the group being rejected by the people forced to the edges. Because we won’t out and out kick someone out of the group, we kick ourselves out. It’s very curious. I’ve opted to take myself out of the lunch situation altogether on most Sundays (one of the “forced to the edges folks”), or just go with a couple friends. The unofficial groups are getting bigger than the official group. (This is leading to publicity interventions that don’t work as they are missing the point of the problem: fodder for a post on performance intervention.)

Churches are usually safe places for people to be included. I know that I felt safer at church when I was a kid knowing that the rules didn’t allow out and out exclusion. I feel safer at church now for some of the same reasons, now that I think about it. Because of this inclusion, people who will not be included anywhere else often end up at a church. It’s a situation I’ve experienced at every church I’ve attended. One friend calls it the “broken winged bird” syndrome. But, we are all broken winged birds at some time. You don’t have to be cool at church. (Ahh, what a relief.) In fact, you don’t even have to have social skills. (Ahh… What a headache.)

The particular lunch last Sunday was kind of funny if looked at as a scene in a movie. One of the new older young adults (try to keep this all straight) came up to me after church and whispered “I’m co-opting you. Come to lunch with us.” The way he said it was so cute that I said I would go. As we walked out, the obnoxious guy’s girlfriend (the guy I stopped going to lunches to avoid) asked where we were going for lunch and the new older guy told her! He didn’t realize that the older young adult people purposefully excludes these people. I just shook my head. When we arrived at the restaurant, the whole young adult crew had arrived before us and were sitting with the old young adults who were clearly angry. “I thought you were going to [this other restaurant]” One of the women said to me. I know she assumed I told all the young adults because I used to be the leader. Sigh.

The table was split down the middle and we might as well have been at different restaurants for all the interaction that occurred between the two groups. Ironically, I was stuck sitting near the obnoxious guy who I stopped going to lunches to avoid. I tried to ignore him. He tried to take a picture of my side of the table. “Please don’t take my picture right now.” I said. “Are you saying you don’t want your picture taken at any events?” He asked angrily.

The truth is that I just don’t want him to have my picture because he creeps me out. In fact, let me just drift into a fantasy answer for a minute: “No.” I tell him. “I’m fine with having my picture taken at events, but I’m not fine with you taking it. Because, you give me the creeps and the way you are taking my picture gives me the creeps and the way you used to follow me around and badger me makes me angry. I’ve told you that I find your behavior invasive, and that I don’t want you to talk to me, and now, here you are, talking to me. Go away! No one wants you at this restaurant! PLEASE PLEASE LEAVE!!!”

What I actually tell him is, “No, I just don’t want my picture taken right now.” He gets angry and tells his girlfriend, “She’s just selfish. I’m doing this for the group and she is just selfish!” “She’s eating! Leave her alone!” She tells him. They fight, his girlfriend walks out. He walks out after her. She comes back in. He’s still outside. “I’m sorry.” I say to her. “It’s not your fault. I just hate it when he gets all self righteous.” she says.

Sheesh. I drove home with the friend who invited me who didn’t notice any of this. He’s surprised when I tell him that the original people were angry that the official group came. “I just think ‘the more the merrier.’” He tells me.

What do you think? Is “you can’t say you can’t play” a good rule? Just for kids or for you too? How do you balance kindness, inclusion, and yet keep healthy and happy boundaries?

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I was looking up “laughing” on google images so I could send my co-worker an image of someone laughing as hard as his email made me laugh. Naturally, I got completely distracted and found:

I think it highly commends a religion when the icon is often pictured laughing. It made me think of the contrast with the Christian religion which often glorifies suffering. I pictured the sad and serious face of Jesus that I’ve always seen.

“You never see Jesus laughing,” I thought. Then, at the top of the next page, who should I find but Laughing Jesus!

It almost seems sacreligious….
Or maybe it’s a sign… :)

Found at Christian Centered Mall.

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Written for me, by me, on this day

Go out and meet people. Be yourself. Be radiant! Radiate who you really are! Accept yourself! Wear clothes you like! Be ye not afraid. Don’t go if you don’t want to go! Forget should! Go forth boldly pursuing your goals. You do not have to give someone a chance! Make friends with who you please. Don’t apologize for yourself- whatever it is. Do what you want. Look out after your own best interest. Be wildly, exuberantly responsive when you can, with clear boundaries. You deserve to have boundaries. Just be clear and NO pressure to make promises that you don’t want to keep… go forth boldly to fulfill your dreams.

I read that a good way to solve your problems is to write a question at the top of the page and then write and write and write until you get something brilliant and usable. I must be a genius, because this is what I got in the first paragraph ;) Well, at least it is bold like William Blake says to be.

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There’s a syndrome, I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, called Little Raggedy Kid Syndrome (LRKS). You may even know someone who has it. The symptoms appear more often in the young. LRKS sufferers are the little kids in your neighborhood whose parents leave them to fend for themselves. The kid usually has a runny nose and sneezes all the time (kind of like a feral cat). They will push themselves in where they are not welcome, out of necessity. At neighborhood events, they will eat more than their share of food and will always stay for dinner if asked. They might even wrangle themselves a reluctantly given invitation. There aren’t many options for those with LRKS. In severe cases, they will even try and get more hugs than they have coming to them by being inappropriately affectionate.

You can grow out of the syndrome, but it still hasn’t been determined if you can actually be cured. Although LRKS doesn’t usually affect adults as severely, some of the tell signs of a relapse include: always being the person to initiate hugs, calls, and visits; asking people for food and letting people pay for food; and always being the last person to leave the party. A cure may be a ways off, but viable treatments include earning enough money to buy food at restaurants, paying for massages, and most of all, accepting that you are too old to ever find the having-parents-take-care-of-you situation. Alternative treatments have been proposed, but as yet have no clinical data to back them up, they include: asking people for help with no expectations; not asking for help from people more needy than you; taking care of yourself as if you were your own good parent; and sitting in the lotus position with your hands held in a gesture of surrender.

There are always rumors of a possible cure, but the ingredients are so rare as to be untenable for most sufferers. The proposed cure includes many of the above treatments with the addition of a loving, open, affectionate community, plentiful food, and several years of being held and kissed every night by somebody who really loves you.

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Thank you to Catana, whose comment on a previous post reminded me of what I learned when I was around people whose stated values seemed very different than mine.

I remember when I lived in a small town where some people were prejudiced against other races, religions, and environmentalists, (which they used as a dirty word.) I used to argue with my friends about EVERYTHING. I thought they were lucky I would be their friend. Then I realized that I was lucky they would be my friend! I was the odd duck out and they still befriended me. I decided to pick my battle and let beef eating, hunting, environmentalism etc.. go and only speak up strongly to any kind of hate speech. I thought of this as a compromise, as a nod to the part of me who yearns to be accepted socially. Maybe if I was stronger and was willing to be alone, I could fight all of the battles.

Well, I’m glad that I yearn to be one of the people, because I am one of the people! (As idiotic as I think some people are sometimes.) I now live and associate with people who are more like me, and that is less stressful, but I learned a lot from those friends who were different. A, they were a lot of fun! We had fun in the mountains of a small town. They enjoyed life. Amazingly, even though their words could sometimes be prejudiced, I learned a lot about tolerance from them. I mean, they were friends with me, even when I was arguing all the time. They accepted people as they were. You could be eccentric, very eccentric, and still belong. My philosophy was more tolerant, but it could sometimes be as a “sounding gong” in practice, as I constantly, and I’m sure annoyingly, set people straight. Thankfully, through my self-imposed diplomacy, I was able to get close enough to really get to know those neat people. I developed a new philosophy of tolerance that I could use in practice, and when I use it, it serves me well.

My goal is to love people and be for people, instead of holding off and feeling like I have to fight against people. When I feel love for people, it’s like people just flock to me and I don’t have to do anything. But I still get afraid, especially if I think other people just don’t understand something and it is urgent that I tell them. I have seen a reappearance of my battle fighting self at school lately. In fact, just this morning I had a dream that I was at a long table and kept interrupting people to correct them. It was a compulsion. Everytime I did it, I knew it wasn’t the best way. I put my head down on my arm and sighed.

This is for anyone else who gets a savior complex every now and then. This is for me. So, here is what I have learned since having buddies who took me digging (driving a truck in deep mud,) called me over to watch their goslings hatch, played WWF (wrestling) on mattresses in the livingroom, argued with me about milk, and thoughtfully did not kill any animals when I was along for the ride:

1. Everyone has something valuable to give, even if it is not apparent at first. So, pre-emptively giving people respect will be the most accurate approach.
2. Assume that people have good intentions and are intelligent when you are trying to understand them and you will usually understand people who have very different opinions than yours much more accurately.
3. Tell yourself, “I don’t have to fix everything. I do not have to be the savior of the world or even of the people in my immediate vicinity. People will eventually get it,” (whatever “it” is to you.) “They will be ok.” (This is the part that takes faith, opposite of fear kind of faith.)
4. No matter how sensible and enlightened your values and opinions are, people will not want to be around you or listen to you if you are angry, miserable and treat them with contempt.
5. And a positive version of the statement above: People will listen to you and want to learn more about your ways if you live a joyful life and love them. That is an easy, joyful way to be influential.

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I was just thinking about the characteristics of gifted people and wondering what is going on in the brain to produce that cluster of characteristics. My preliminary thought is that there are primary characteristics and secondary characterizes. For example, I think the, probably, primary ability to see the difference between what is and what could be often leads to the secondary characteristic of perfectionism.

I love that I’m finding validating writing about gifted characteristics. As many of you know, it can be hard when the way you are is not normal, especially if you can’t quite figure out why. However, some of the writing just isn’t practical and elevates some characteristics that don’t seem to warrant it. Some of the advice is basically: “The world should learn to value these characteristics.” Well, that’s helpful.

I think it is important to value and accept yourself. I also think it is important to take responsibility for yourself if you want to get the results you want. So, I propose that gifted folks just need to learn to be super self-regulators. That’s what we are doing anyway when we are ultra-critical of ourselves and ultra-sensitive. I guess we just need to be informed self-regulators. Value all of our characteristics, and just know in which contexts they will get us the results we want. The prevalence of loneliness in the gifted is not right! If our gifts are keeping us from some of the best of what life has to offer, I would hardly call them gifts. Let’s use our brains to get the sweetest marrow of living.

I’ve been wanting to take Michael Hall’s workshop about personal mastery for awhile, but I’m a bigger fan of the clarity of Steve Andreas’s thinking. Maybe Steve can present at Seng’s next conference, and all us bloggers can go there and meet!

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Things I’m not good at: remembering what people’s cars look like, having any idea when my period is coming.

My first clue is when I suddenly start crying and feel that life is really not worth living and wondering how I will make it through the next 80 or so years. So, last night my teacher says something to me and it makes me cry. Luckily only one side of me is weak; my right side. I don’t know what this means, but sometimes if I am trying not to cry but can’t help crying, only my right eye will cry. This is very useful if I’m a passenger in a car, as I’ve had many opportunities to discover. One side of me can be relentlessly leaking while I’m carrying on a normal conversation with the ignorant driver.

Last night, I tried to pass off my crying as something in my eye, and this could have been a success. I also used my time honored tradition of thinking of a rock. I don’t know why this works for me , but it helps. I even drew a picture of a rock on my notebook paper. Yes, I’m a 30-something master’s student and I was trying not to cry in class by repeating everything my professor said in my head while looking at a picture of a rock, so I didn’t have time to say to myself, “Nobody likes me!” As I said, this could have worked. Then my professor, who had continued teasing me, ’cause we’re just that kind of fun loving class and I can (usually) take it, came up to me during the break and said with his kind little eyes, “You know I was kidding, right?” My averted eyes and non-committal mumble caused him to repeat. Then my classmate next to me tried to joke with me. I had to hurry and leave. Don’t look at me with kind eyes when I’m thinking, “rock!”

I rushed down 3 flights of stairs to a bathroom in the basement that I found when I was new and didn’t know where my classes were. Yes, it was where I remembered it from 2 years ago. The whites of my eyes were both bright red, and I started sobbing witht he gasping breaths and everything. Then it was just unrecoverable. My face was blotchy and wet and the sight of my crumpling face in the mirror was making me laugh between sobs. Then someone knocked at the unisex bathroom door. A man with a long beard, a red bandana, and some peircings was leaning against the wall waiting. I hoped he didn’t think the unflushed stuff in the toilet was from me.

Outside I was suprised by a beautiful sunset, which always helps. The air was crisp and I walked quickly towards my car, thinking, “I’ll look in the mirror of my car and if I can look like I wasn’t crying I’ll go back to class.” Unfortunately, I got in a crowded elevator full of psychologists. They were talking about feelings and how you should just express them. Everyone got off at another floor except me, and one little dark-haired lady. Do you know how you can hold it together as long as no one speaks to you? Or if they at least speak to you in an impersonal tone of voice? “Are you ok?” She asks me. Still, I manage to nod and not cry. “Do you want to talk about it?” I don’t know what I mumbled. “It it helps, I am a psychologist.” Well, thanks a lot lady. Now you’ve done it. I just started sobbing, my crumpled blotchy face beyond help. True to form, I felt despair of life ever being worth living for the rest of the night, and to top it off, Tivo messed up and did not record Gilmore Girls. Sometimes it’s the little things that count. I have to go back to class tonight with the same proffesor. The friend I went crying to, who also made me cry again, has advised me to say that I had a lot going on that day and had to leave, and that’s why I missed the computer simulation about system models.

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Hi, I’ve changed the title of my blog again. This doesn’t seem to be the normal way to do things in the blog world, but I can’t just choose one name forever and ever! It’s too much pressure! So, I haven’t checked my stats in forever, but I am going to try and post more regularly and you’re going to hear a lot of school talk. Lucky you.

Last night I had my second first-class-of-the-semester with the same instructor as my first first-class-of-the-semester. There is a certain look in professors’ eyes when they look at me during the first few classes. They see that I’m one of the smart ones. They must see it in my eyes- the shining intelligence, the quickness (don’t worry this is going to get humble soon.) They ask me questions, they are excited to have one of the kind of students they think I am in their class. Only I know their inevitable disappointment, when the bright quickness in my eyes sort of clouds over. I can feel it and I can see it in other people. I can spot the ADDer’s- the lost, confused, cloudy look. It is the look you see in the dancer’s eyes- you know, the one who is franticly trying to copy the right moves because she doesn’t know them, staring intently at the one who knows what she is doing, the one with the bright, shining eyes?

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I love reading Andrea’s real life updates over at Roundy Wells. I wish all my friends and family had blogs! So, today I am going to treat you to a real life update.

Men: Nada. (Wow, this is quick!) I theoretically want to get married and if I happened to meet someone that I clicked with, I’d be all for it, but I’m putting no energy into looking. The only reason it has a little half-hearted place on my to do list is my biological clock. Mental calculations of biological clock: “Let’s see, I’m 31 [now you know :)] If I meet someone now and marry them in a year, the earliest I will have my first child is 33. If I want 4 kids, spaced two years apart… ARGHGGGH!!!” That’s how those internal conversations usually go, followed by a panicked: “I must meet somebody now!” or a tremulously reasuring, “Well, people are getting younger all the time, if you just stay in really great shape, it will be almost like you are in your 20’s when you are having kids!” Yeah right!

Job: Just quit! Yay me! In my job-life, I really feel like the airplane motivational speakers always talk about, on the wrong path most of the time but continually making adjustments so that it does eventually get where it intended to go. I know what I want to do: create blah, blah, blah, blah. (That information is part of my secret identity- or actually, my known identity, but this site is part of my secret identity, so my known identity is… this gets so confusing.) But how do I get there? I started drafting a letter to send to a well-known writer and Ph.D to share with him the research paper I wrote that involves his work. Ach! It scared me to even draft it. Do you double-dog-dare me to send it today? It is great thinking, in my humble opinion, but really stilted writing. I haven’t figured how to make research paper writing flow. I HATE that method of writing. eek.

I’m considering going to school some more to get a Ph.d and doing research there, applying for a grant to get my research funded, or… working at a regular job while I work on my own research on the side? This is all up in the air.

For the near future, I have a student loan coming in, so I won’t starve. However, I do want a job during this last semester and I will definitely need a job when the semester ends. As the very talented Andrea has shown, getting a job in a particular field can be challenging. I won’t have any welcoming arms letting me stay somewhere, I’ve already used that option up post bachelors degree. Unless something changes in some other area of my life. (See “Men:” above.)

Jobs I am considering: low paying student job on campus- hey, it’s money, actual full time job in my field if I can get it, or get an internship in my field. In addition, I AM starting my hypnosis practice back up. The website is in the works.

Other dreams: I want to sing and play the guitar and write songs. My grandma has agreed to pay for me to get singing lessons! Yay, Grandma!! I am soo excited to have a more consistantly performance worthy voice. Also, I am going to learn to play the guitar better and learn more music theory. As you know, I don’t want to become famous in that I don’t want my face to be broadly recognizable, but I DO want to be rich and talented. I would love to make money selling my songs and be a slightly known singer in my community- at church and in a local band. That would be sooo fun.

Housing: I want my own house. But I went driving around yesterday and I realized, even if something magical happens, I don’t know exactly where I want to live yet. However, being in a temporary place that is someone else’s house just sucks. No, I am not pleased with my roommates. Today I realized that I just have to clean in front of my other two roommates so they can WITNESS ME CLEANING, then they see that I am contributing my fair share of cleaning. My other roommate, the owner of the house, who I will call Fantasia, just got home today. Disclaimer: all of these roommates are nice. They are not horrible, but still, I am not pleased. So, Fantasia and Tina are chatting about the trip she just got back from and I say, “Hi! How was Florida?” And she says, in a measured voice usually reserved for pre-schoolers, and irritating even then,”Braidwood, I had a nice trip, but I don’t want to talk about it now. If you’d like, I will tell you about Florida later.” What the hell! I wanted to turn all Hustle and Flow * on her and tell her, “Yo, bitch, I couldn’t care less about your trip to Florida! I was just asking to be nice!” Then I fantasized about coming up with something socially acceptable yet funny and mean to say back to her. I could think of nothing. When I am displeased I turn very sincere and tend to say things like, “I really don’t like being spoken to like that.” I did think it would be funny to make up a song about Fantasia to the tune of “I’m living in my own private Idaho” and call it “I’m living in my own private Ashram!” (Fantasia teaches yoga and gives astrology readings and doesn’t think farting is funny.)

*I saw Hustle and Flow with my Grandma when I was in Hawaii, her choice, and the only reason I went. I usually stick to my Mormon heritage and skip rated R movies. Especially if there is the chance that there will be something in the movie that I just wish I had never seen. However, while Hustle and Flow had the trappings of banality, it was not banal. It was an awesome movie and I could totally relate.

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I am being inspired by other people’s blogs, so here’s another post in the comments-I-left-on-someone-else’s-blog category! I left this comment over at Laura’s Starling Fitness site.

Laura, I hope you find the cause and cure for your stomach hurting. If there is pain in your body, that is a sign that something is wrong!! So please don’t just live with it.

My stomach story: I hardly ever got headaches, but all growing up, my stomach hurt! Especially right before I went to school. So, the in house doc, my mom, said that I was either faking it or just nervous. My stomach pains continued into college. Nearly every day of my life I was in pain or uncomfortable for part of the day. In college, I found out that I’m lactose intolerant!!! That’s all it was!! So, there I was eating oatmeal or cereal for breakfast with milk, feeling sick and being accused of faking it! Now, I don’t drink milk and my stomach hardly ever hurts!

In related news: I used to get a gassy stomach when I went on dates! Then I accused myself of creating it out of nervousness. Luckily I read in a magazine that fake sugar gives some people gas. I never drink pop, but I would chew sugarless gum when I went out. I stopped with the gum, the gas stopped. SOMETHING is making your stomach hurt. You can trust yourself.

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If I was in a poem mood I’d make this post into a poem. The sentiments are more appropriate for poem form because they are from a deep felt place rather than a rational one. They are all tangled up with home, and fragile like being wanted and being loved. I’m talking about church. It IS Sunday after all! :)

We had the coolest service at church today, at first. We had a guest minister from Transylvania and he read the Lord’s prayer and he sounded JUST like Dracula reading the Lord’s prayer and, I’m not kidding, he was wearing a black cape! Then we had music after amazing music. At one point we were all standing, clapping and singing as a dynamite musician was pounding the piano keys and his spine tingling voice was ringing out. It was awesome. And then another guest minister with a name like Ala Tu Tu Bab Way, (whose name used to be something like Herman Jones,) started a preachin’. Boy, he was good. This man can preach. He’s a Presbyterian and a definite “God” minister. He was talking about how he prays when the spirit moves in his heart and the spirit moves in his heart ALL the time! (Hallelujah!) He said God is his center and his core. I was really enjoying this service. Contrary to what some people might think from my last post about church, God-talk does not bother me. I love to hear people’s stories and I am truly tolerant when it comes to people’s personal religious beliefs.

But then he drew a line between the God people and the not God people, with full contempt for the people who are “just in their heads” and don’t understand the deeper things about life (aka: God.) Ouch. I felt so unwelcome. Although the sermon was definitely anti-a-theistic, it wasn’t as bad, in a way, as the last sermon I wrote about, because he’s not a UU minister. On the other hand, I can’t imagine our ministers asking an atheist minister to preach who would be so contemptuous of theistic beliefs. I hope they wouldn’t.

I was so sad. I told a couple friends how unwelcome the sermon made me feel and, I started to cry when I said it.

Heavy hearted,
I cry.
But first,
Sonya brought me flowers for my birthday and a scarf that whispers ”you belong, you belong…”
And when I cried,
They held me.
And the ones that didn’t hold me stood by my side
And pet my arm.
And I breathe
And I drink some water and I
Let the sadness and the not-home ness fall
(A little awkwardly)
And I put it away for now
And walk to lunch.

Light hearted,
I laugh.
And I joke with Dan
Always the straight man.
And we have a little adventure as we stop in at the open house
And I see us through the broker mans eyes:
Four laughing girls in flowers,
Light hearted
In this warm and light and spacious
(And outrageously priced)
Condo.
And we eat strawberries,
And some of us eat chocolate,
And we continue on our adventure,
Slipping out of the house, the ending of our story as mysterious as our beginning,
The only real moment
Being our brief entrance on their very real stage,
Characters in their play that day,
Lighthearted characters in their play.

And should I continue with the story about the desk? Far more real.
People hawking their wares on the sidewalk outside of their house,
Moving to Tennessee.
Darci bought an ottoman, with glee,
I bought a desk,
On our walk back to the church today,
Our light and fumbling way,
Our mysterious, real
Play (full way.)

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A couple days ago my Grandma, her sister, and my aunt were talking about how they wish they hadn’t been so scared when they were my age, and had followed their true dreams and passions. My aunt wanted to be an actess, but took the safe road and became a teacher. I want to sing in a band, and this year my goal is to perform in public often. During the last week in January, I plan to perform at an open mike. (Ackk! Do you know how scary that is for me??!! I was shaking just singing into the phone for my audio blog!) I am also going to exercise 5 days a week and eat healthy food. I’ve gotten a good start on that one.

My main goal of the year is to enjoy my life. To do that I am practicing gratitude and appreciation. Do you have any gratitude or appreciation practices that you want to share?

I will finish my master’s degree by the end of the year. What I really, really want to do in my career is to create a prototype of an invention I have an idea for, research it, and have somebody else pay for this- either in the form of a scholarship for a doctorate or a grant. This is my big passion and and I haven’t figured out how to chunk it down into doable steps yet. If you have any tips about getting grants/scholarships please leave a comment. I’m not going to be more specific about my invention here, as it is part of my non-anonymous life. I want to make weekly progress towards that goal, but I’m not sure how to do it yet.

Last, but not least, I’m going to continue to practice dating using my favorite dating book Be Your Own Dating Service.

I wish you the oomph and the urgency to do the things you really love to do. Life really is short. Just do it! :)

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This cartoon.

Thanks to Laura for the link.

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