Category Archives: Humour

What I learned by 70 years of age.

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What it took me until I was 70 years old to learn:
#1 If you put it back where you keep it you will save 2 years of searching over a lifetime.
#2 If you stay in the now and not be in the future planning, or in the past rummaging through garbage you won’t slice into you hand or trip downstairs.
#3 When you have an appointment don’t just write Julia on the calendar. When the day comes you will have no fucking idea who Julia is.
#4 If you save all of your errands for one day, it will save you money. Suddenly shopping and running around will just exhaust you and you will go home with only what is necessary for immediate survival.
#5 The best gift for another person is something he or she has been denying themselves.
#6 Flowers in your house are a survival necessity. They release feel good hormones and fantasy stories.
#7. You will never have the carefully made list you wrote down to go shopping actually on your person, so give up on that one. Just grab strange things you have been desiring and go home.
# 8 Having a clean car is only important if you are picking up a celebrity at the airport.
#9 Getting into or out of any new environment needs as much focus as getting out of a space shuttle. Drop down into the body, pay attention, scan for danger and obstacles. It is the transitions where the broken bones, lost cell phones and left behind coats happen.
#10 The best thing to say in every single circumstance is nothing. God gave you a face, eyes and nice teeth. Smile sweetly.
#11 Always prepare for the apocalypse. There is never too much stored toilet paper, dried beans, cash in an envelope, water in the attic, printer cartridges and paper for the next 3 months, incense for clearing energy when the world ends, (or to prevent the end).
#12. If you can afford plastic surgery get a skin pocket done so you always know where your cell phone is.
# 13 If you don’t answer your cell phone or pick up your messages you will avoid those pesky appointments you did not want to make anyway. (Who the hell is Julia and why does North Dakota call me 5 times a day?)
# 14 Don’t care. Undertake the practice of NOT giving a flip. Until something comes at my house like a bulldozer, I pay no attention to it.
#15. Exceptions are: do sign petitions that push for social justice, do speak out for the weak, young, poor and unprotected constantly. It does make a difference if you are annoying the crap out of politicians.
#16. Speak the truth to beauty. Saying, “I love your scarf to a random woman in a grocery store,” allows her to stop and tell you she bought it on her trip to Italy. Her face lights up. She has happy chemicals releasing in her body. I call it giving a “bump up.”
It is social cocaine.
#17 The only thing that matters in health care is sleep. If you did not sleep deeply with Rem every night you are running on empty. You are like someone getting off of a 20 hour plane trip. Everything you think is just stupid. Get sleep and the whole world is better.
#18 Don’t put the fuzzy red towel in with the rest of the laundry. And if it shed the first time, don’t do it ten more times just to make sure.
#19 If it didn’t fit when you bought it, it will torture you and suck the joy our of your life. Be comfortable.
#20 If it didn’t make YOU look gorgeous, don’t buy it. Nothing is worse than having your clothing upstage you.
#21 Meet the challenge when it first appears. Run toward it like a Viking storming a village. Waiting only allows it to get bigger, more horrifying and weakens us.
#22 You cannot know who you are. That is absolute bullshit. Who you are is like a strobe light image. Now you are this, now that, now something else. Allow yourself to follow your joy and grow the hell up, why don’t you.I am 80 in August and while I sat in the kindergarden desk with my knees not fitting under it for so long, I finally am learning some things.
Love yourself constantly. Coming to earth was the craziest decision we ever made. We are Navy Seals, Red Berets, our own brain surgeons and tough as nails. We are as tough as nails, baby. Don’t you ever forget that.

Wind Talking

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Today, I could feel the urge to slide down emotionally coming on again. It reminded me of the coal cellar chute we had under my house when I was young. It was dark down there and I was admonished in the ten commandment chiseled tone my mother could use when laying down the law to NEVER slide into that unseen space.

As I woke up, I remembered the visions from my viewing of the various streaming services I use to numb out before sleep. I had jumped from one documentary to another finding people who had set a goal, worked unflinchingly toward it and stood a healthy, tough, accomplished monument depiction of what a heroically dedicated senior looks like.

“Yes”, I thought to myself, “You will stop doing just enough, good enough, running along the tracks of the usual habits. Today you will dig your shovel into the coal pile of fuel and throw it into the furnace of ambition. Today will be a flame.”

After I took my pills and made coffee, my skin blossomed out like an aggressive tea rose with petals of hives. I couldn’t tell but it felt so pervasive, I imagined even the back of my eyeballs were swollen. My agenda made out so carefully by my personal assistant self was now out of the question.

“First, we cope.”

I took a Benadryl, slurped cups of water and lay down on my left side which is my poor- me baby curled position when I am sick. Just as I was about to fall into a drugged sleep my mind chirped at me, “You had a nap yesterday.” I ignored the nagging.

Infocus is another smoking alternative by Inlife useful when individuals are unable to smoke. cialis canada no prescription Packaging The cialis 10 mg packaging of both pills is similar to one another. Let your physician know your complete health history prior consuming this pill. cheap generic tadalafil Men who do not get help from ED pills should not be tampered order cheap cialis with. When I woke up I thought it would be a dandy idea if I watched RBG the documentary on Netflix. All I need, I thought to myself, is more inspiration as I lay here under the covers.

So the urge to dig deep, make something happen, speak those words that would cast a spell so powerful it could lift a tsunami of curved lace waves to hit the shore had abated.

I heard the wind outside as I made my whatever the time it was now meal. The wind yowled at me to come outside.

I let the mind sit there in my skull under my twisting hair and walked barefoot to a garden bed. First from one direction, and then from another the wind confused the branches. Acid yellow pollen rained down onto the lawn. The sky shut gray and close to the earth when day began but now it was flickering from one picture projection of itself to another. Silver clouds opened up and the sideways sun took a stab at the earth.

There is something ineffable about a strong wind: It is primitive and savage. We have so little common understanding for the causes, the motivations of violent wind. We do not discuss in our lexicon of weather stories the first mover of the still air that makes it wild suddenly in our own backyards. We are so amazed that we cannot dismiss the force with a label of words. We stand amazed.

And lately the wind has been quixotic, unpredictable, blowing first hot and then cold. But always I feel a call to go stand in it especially when it is ferocious, multi-pronged, hysterical. I stood in the wind changing its mind surrounding me, my hair wrapping across my face and thought, “I want to be like that! I want to be so passionate that there are no words to describe me. I want to speak to the wind.”

I must ask my personal assistant for a new schedule.

Day 22. But who is counting?

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Through this 22 days of semi-isolation I watched myself cycle up and down in energy. One day I am out in the garden walking 10 kilometres while hauling dirt and cleaning out the beds. The next I awaken with a headache and am stiff and sore all over. I have no interest in engaging with this new day. There isn’t enough passion in me for the beginning.

The underlying use of energy to keep myself afloat is obviously syphoning off what I would normally be doing this time of year. But managing the body, the emotions, the spirit take monitoring.

To be able to scan the self and see , “No. You cannot push me today,” written on the gauge means I must respect how the entire system I call ‘myself’ is operating.

Today I sat with a Metta Practice video for 30 minutes and I could feel it clearing me. It felt the same way that sliding an overworked, muscle torn body feels sliding into hot water in the bathtub. There was the first recognition that, yes, I was listening. Then the relief as I could feel myself letting go of even that which I did not understand until that moment had been a weight I was carrying.

As I worked my way through the practice, selecting first those who are easiest to love and sending them my wishes and moved on to those who are more challenging, I was floating in a tub of hot water. Each breath, each thought caused more release from my body. I became lighter.

The spirit craves simplicity. The soul yearns to love openly without worrying about being hurt, or attacked or wronged. We all share the desire to drop the protective shield that we are taught is the only safety.

The conspiracy theories are now plastered all over social media at various angles, They are crisscrossing one another out. This statement is untrue, that statement is untrue. Only we in our cult of reality know what is really going on. We hold the tablets with God’s word.

I see the clinging to groups more and more as we are more and more isolated. Our childlike need for the protection of belonging is highly activated now when we are not allowed to sit face to face.

“Show me you belong to my structured belief system group by posting pictures of black chickens,” someone will demand. We are separated into our families in one isolation chamber or we are floating alone in our homes without pets or other people. We need to prove to ourselves that we still hold social power.

And so we cycle. We talk about how nothing is true; more is true than we will ever know; the monsters are no longer in the closet or under the bed. They are everywhere. They are on the TV screen daily.
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And so surrounded by shadows that we see because we are so frightened of being on our own, we now accumulate more and more conspiracy theories.

The way out of our own, internalized, lies to ourselves and our sense of an unsafe world is through a deep appreciation of the efficacy of self-calming.

return to self

We go back to the child. We go back to the bursting out of our chest desire to love. We go back to making it safe for ourselves to trust and be compassionate.

I got out of the bath and left behind all of the spider webs of sticky thread imprisonment. I came back to the truth of being human.

We want someone to tell us it is safe to love others. We want our martial arts master to say we don’t need the sword; we can take off the armour.

And then I felt so much more present in my own body as I recited , “May you be safe. May you find joy. May you be released from suffering.” I said it for others, and I said it for myself.

Let go. Trust. Be of good heart. Nothing needs to be true except this breath, this now. Come home. Remember to love.

 

We are only Human after all

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The stint of long distance stamina cross country marathon working pumping my limbs toward my goal of paying down my $110,000 reverse dowry (paying for my freedom from marriage) has been a great success. I have buckled down, buckled in, sucked it up, muscled up, stayed the course and bent my back into my airbnb business. As one of the top ten airbnb places in Kelowna, I have been so very grateful for the guests who have stayed with me. Their reviews, their company, their sweet thank yous have filled my life with light.

almost done

I have in a six year period gone from $110,000 in debt from the single check that I had to write in order to buy myself free down to a paltry $6,000 currently. However, the seven days a week of work for 8 months straight , of cleaning, of laundry, of restricting my movements so that I could be available to my guests, of living abstemiously ; of putting as much back into the business and the debt as my adolescent screaming on the inside could manage, has been demanding. There were openings of respite. I have gone on trips; purchased the odd new to me pieces of clothing and allowed frivolous expenditures like flowers for my garden that were not absolutely “necessary.” The unrelenting focus on paying down the debt and keeping my reviews at the Super Host status level has been a success.

Since October 20th I worked seven days a week from February 1st without a day off. And then I remembered  last year in October when I was shaky all over from the daily effort to bend my will, to put on the harness of discipline daily when I said out loud, “I need a break.” And then I fell down the stairs and fractured my wrist.

This year, I said to myself, this year you will stop before you are on your last torn shred of nerve. And so I blocked out all of November. I felt rebellious. I felt naughty. I felt outrageously irresponsible. How could I do that when I had debt left? How could I just ruthlessly cross off the chance to make thousands of dollars before my debt was disappeared.

I see a counsellor once a month and use her as my life coach. I check in with her to articulate what behaviours I am instilling in myself and what areas of wounding still drive my life. She worked with me for three continuous months gently suggestion that I could “let up on myself” before I saw a row of zeros on the debt counter.  I finally said, “I will be free at $10,000 stilll owing.”

After, an intake of viagra cialis generic avoid getting contact with any machinery work; since, it comprises an effect of levitra. The company researched their formula is selling them under these sildenafil wholesale brand names. 2. The upper chakras are open thanks to buy viagra in spain planetary and cosmic energies not felt here for thousands of years, herbs have been used as a remedy for multiple medical conditions. It may also have its influence on the blood circulation of generic levitra online the body also involving penile region. But I know my OCD and how it operates. I had set a goal. I had like in the Shawshank Redemption been digging with my tiny  rock hammer to escape the self imposed prison. And I just couldn’t walk away at $10,000. It was so irresponsible.

Today, I sit with $6,000 left on my debt in the month of November. I created this space of time off when I wildly crossed out all the days on  November’s calendar. And with a few days impetuously blanked out in October,  now I am living into 6 continuous days off. It comes home to me exactly how used up I am. I have no urge to travel, to start a new project, to explore the world, or myself.

The focus has been on meditation, sleep, teaching myself how to be a social being in the outside world again. I work out 5 days a week building muscle mass and I wait. I wait for the feeling that some magical glowing pathway will shine up into the gray befogged landscape of the present. I wait for the sense of joy and curiosity to return. I am no longer an indentured slave. I am no longer straining to put down the burden I have incurred by making an unenlightened choice of a mate. I have been buying off my own freedom. But I am tired.

What I find strange is that I had no idea exactly how pervasively exhausting and engaging this last six years has been. Having a purpose and a carefully defined struggle is a wonderful anesthetic. There are few decisions to be made. There are fewer possibilities  of going wrong. The harness is restrictive and comforting.

restrictions

And now, I cool my heels while my body recovers. I abide while I gain confidence that I am ready to deal with the outside world and finally walk toward my bigger dreams. My focus is on opening myself up to possibilities. So many of my delusions around deserving, around the heart hardening concept of toil, the crazily distorted mirrors which have reflected back who I think I am  are about to shift into the sheer joy of taking chances. It is right there in front of me and I am patient with not being quite able to see quite yet.

Where Am I, I?

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Since May time has been a bullet train to some outside force decided destination. I have the business to run. And being so much further up the mountain, I have the wisdom to know when the heat of summer arises I need to “cool my jets”.

The thirty minutes break in the afternoon laying under the strange Tardis looking free standing air conditioner is the only thing between me and the type of dementia that would send me clawing off all of my clothing and running into the street yelling, “I don’t understand. I don’t understand.”

Lately the unsolved technological problems have begun to be like a strange purple itchy erruption on my skin. There are so many spots of it and no matter how assiduously I ignore it, it is distracting and irritating.

So I put on my big girl panties, or my old lady drawers or some such metaphor meaning I covered up vulnerable areas carefully, and went after the problems.

I got my new cell phone to connect to my house wifi with the help of only two tech wizards. One referred me to the next one.

Now emboldened, I contacted a second IPower tech. The first one told me to do several things that simply flummoxed me.

I kindly told him, “I have reached my level of optimum frustration. I don’t understand anything you are saying. I am going to go away now.”

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(Notice how I snuck in my Red Bubble store in that paragraph).

So I was like a warrior with two heads in a pile and was ready to kill another enemy freaking frustration. I got the Ipower tech on the line and learned how to empty my cache and cookies. I felt renewed.

At that point my Paypal went down and I don’t even know how I managed to get CPR on that system to get it back on its feet.

Craving more power… I contacted a local video school to ask for a student to solve my WTF is happening when I load my photo booth video clipped to the wonderful intro a friend made for me. The two connected in IMovie.0.0.9 just smush the video blog and it looks like Cybil Shepherd’s scenes in Moonlighting. There is vaseline on the lense.

The sense that there are times of growth and times of maintenance is strong. Learning to attend to new challenges is not something I embrace. My strength is in the super self-discipline of doing what must be done. So, really, when I define myself by what I do or can do, it is erroneous.

I just never know. Very much. At all.

Attachment attitude: What is it?

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As I work in a daily, rhythmic manner running the airbnb I notice the thought arising: too much. It is interesting to see how jaded my attitude is to work. It has been my saviour as I worked 70 hour weeks most of my life as a teacher.

Our family embraced labour as an anaesthetic. Gabor Mate explained in his recent on line class that those who have been abused have “itchy” limbs. They seek to move in order to dispelling the trapped energy.

pink pinwheel catches the wind

I spent year after year watching myself and assessing my relationship with work. Scarcity mind set created an adrenaline fuelled kind of desperation. If life is too difficult, then everything is too difficult. This next “thing” is a struggle.

“And let me prove it to you,” my ego said. “Keep moving. Keep in the struggle. You cannot remove the dancing shoes, Princess.”

I no longer feel as if I am falling through uninhabited universes one after the other alone when I am not doing the cortisol/adrenaline dance. The sense of yawning emptiness that will melt my very existence no longer horrifies me. I know how to see it and release it.

intentional sanctuary

The secret is in checking my body. These are the signs that I am not abusing action:

1. I feel as if there is enough time for everything
2. I am not competing in my head with my past, with others, with some societal projection of success.
3. I feel at home in my body. I feel the ground beneath my feet, the space around me upholding me, the in flow of new energy in a smooth and untroubling manner.

I have shifted from making a copious to do list, the kind that takes up two sheets in my journal, to just touching intention in the same gentle way I touch a new blooming rose. I feel its texture. I breathe in its smell. I see the beauty of it.

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close up beauty

And then at the end of the day, when I was coming off of work addiction I structured a transition.  I had to write a list of what I had done without the rigidity of me trying to survive anything, or block out anything.

What most surprised me is that I would create as many intentions while moving through the day, as I did when I sat and forced myself to task. What surprised me is I was elated to see that I could trust myself.

Digging my heels into a donkey was my old way of working. But I came to see I was not a stubborn mule. I was a race horse filled with joy to just be kicking up my heels. There did not need to be a whip, or a jerking on the reigns.

I wanted to move and explore and learn. And I have found a way to do that that is more organic and less fear drive.

So when I feel a tightness in my chest from working 7 days a week, when I feel the old violin sawing irritation music, I remind myself to sink into the senses.

As I make the beds after hanging the candy colored sheets wave on the line, I select which brilliant pillow cover to place against another. Everything is art. Everything is creating. Everything is play. And I am spreading love energy in my house, thinking of the guests that will sleep peacefully.

the beauty

Can I know where I am headed by being frightened of it? I am beginning to see how the anxiety has handicapped me, now I am calm and trusting. Where ever I am, I am supported. Where ever I am, regenerating energy surrounds me.

And if I am beyond my limits after making beds for 153 people in four months, there is always a Netflix Brooklyn 99 binge retreat available.

I know how to take care of myself, finally. And it took over 70 years of learning to get here. But it is pretty “Toit”.

Summer no beach

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So arrest me, already. I went to the beach which is a 20 minute walk away one time this summer and I almost immediately regretted it.
The water was churned up by the flopping of bodies. The sand was searing. Mating rituals involving the showing of skin, the flexing of arms, the tossing of hair were enacted everywhere.

 

no beach

no beach

Mothers hobbled by little wagons, backpacks, carry bags were limping either toward or away from the radiant heated beach trying to set up what looked amazingly like a nomad’s village of plastic toys.
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I thought about reading my ever present book; however, the sound of radios, family members screaming to one another important messages just created too much background static.
I sat for a while on the benches next to others wearing hats, long sleeved shirts who looked like the very beach toys that were so laboriously lugged to the water. Only we were all a little deflated. We were slightly hunched over in the 38 degree Celsius heat magnified by the sand and water.
I could barely hear my imprinting ego say, “But this is fun.”
“Oh just shut-up,” I thought.
I gathered my book, towel and sweated my way back to the car.
I have learned physics. There is no way I am going to seduce a mate to appear while posing in my bathing suit. And I just want to read my book.

Picking Threads

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I am systematically working on building new habits. Researchers have said that we are nothing more than a bundle of habits.

patterns

 

We believe ourselves to be this face, this body, this story, this history, this actor, this receiver, this age, this cohort, this tapestry of threads woven into our energy field. We believe ourselves to be conscious and operating from the Executive decision function section of the frontal lobe.

All brain studies point to this assumption as flawed.
We are in the thrall of habit mind. If 95% of what we are telling ourselves throughout the day is simply old drama that is recalculating and interpreting current data, then it is no real surprise that the movie, the plot we are enacting is the same story. However,  this time the narrative is in a different setting. We are the same being only this time wearing as a costume a slightly altered body.
Did I mention, I am systematically working on building new habits.

 
I have a notebook. I have set up a grid. I am checking off squares.
What this does is it releases me from the interpretive dance of what is or could or would or should or will or did happen. The Loie Fuller scarf dance of swooping justifications, lyrical rationalizations, slight of eye, feign of hand, performances of inner dialogue music that normally occur.
I either check off the square or I don’t.
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20100815_260
I admire my ego self. It is so stalwart.

I hover my pen over a square saying, “Well I did walk around in the mall. That is exercise.” The creativity is admirable. The translation is not unlike that on Babble Fish. In one field I put the words and in the other a strange, otherworldly version appears. Breathing is exercise. Napping is physical. Sitting and reading about exercise is working toward my goals. Shopping for an exercise outfit is focus on that desired outcome. Right. Right? Right!
How I untangle the threads is with alertness. I have set up my reticular activation system to recognize successes. I have checked off doing weight for three days in a row because I do not have a vague goal of “exercise”. My goals are specific habits which I am entraining: yoga, weight lifting, and walking for no purpose.
Walking for no purpose gets rid of the “automatic out,” that ego tries to create. Mowing the lawn is walking. But it is not walking unleashed from a secondary goal. I cannot ingrain a habit without the recognition of the very habit which I am constructing.
That way lies madness. Or strange babblefish translations of ego talk.
I could be “burning calories” by eating with an incredibly heavy fork that I need to place 500 yards away and run back and forth to take that satisfying chomp of food.
All I have done is entrain eating.
Oh, the ego monster is sooo tricky.
For now, I am happy with my list. I am pleased when I put down a check mark and I stay in a place wherein I know who I will effortlessly be after a three month focus on building those particular habits.
Because, it ain’t magic. It ain’t a tragedy. It ain’t a heroic struggle to climb out of an awakening volcanic cone to the tiny pin light of the surface.
I am just a bundle of habits.
Did you follow my thread?

Negative Space

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During my morning meditation, it came to me how so much of my existence has been about “available” space. I fit into the places between, at the edges. When I move through a crowd, it has been my habit to squeeze into openings successfully avoiding touching, or pushing against anyone.

 
As I sat in another absolutely abysmal presentation recently, I felt words building up in my mouth moving from my mind to my throat and clamped so that they fell castrated onto my tongue.

“No, No, No,” my head was saying. There is no content. There is no stimulating new information. Yet all sat quietly as if something were going on. As if there were life in the room.

 
I envisioned a hard shelled bug that stays small in order not to be seen, not to be in danger. Self discipline has been my method of growth.
Occupying negative space, hiding in plain sight, gagging on my own thoughts, apologetically moving through only those corridors of available space creates entropy. My fear of discovery, of chastisement, of punishment, of being found out. Found out in the open. Found.

 
Lady bug
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fly to the sky
Your wings are the fire
with the songs of desire.

 
The child in me. The child in me wants to be disruptive,
spectacular. I want to climb all over the boundaries as if they were not restrictions but rather structures for challenging myself.
Perthaps, there is nothing to fear in just making space for everything I am.

july 19 12

Perhaps there is no essential flaw but only space and sky and passion.

To Learn by Going Where We Have to Go.

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The crows have built a magnificent nest in the long arms high up in my Maple tree. They have instinct, skill and whatever evolutionary magic is on their side.

As I struggle with the sticks of new skills, the structure I am building called “marketing” and “presence” is so much less compact and architectural. At times, I feel as if my head empties out. I learn how to record on Garage Band, change the file to an MP4, load it into IMovie and then… and then…

The next time I attempt it, my voice has so much reverb I am an opera diva soloist. The track sounds like I have a 500 pound barrel body with words careening off of intestines and ribs.

What also fell out of my head or perhaps is just not aligned electronically is the method of paying my PST for my art work. Then there is getting insurance on my art hanging in a local bnb. So far it is two days and multiple phone calls.

I think to myself that it must be some Zen Koan life. When I am dealing with electronics or institutional authority, I must first fall to my knees in humility and work through waves of frustration. Eventually, it will work. Eventually, I will learn it.

Maybe, one day the path will arise to meet my feet instead of being hidden in dense under brush.

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My Maple tree in winter wrapped around my legs

My Maple tree in winter wrapped around my legs

At the present time, I have a list of nine things that I am trying to learn. They are in a scrawled and numbered column on my neon orange index card.

I look like the crow when it sits watching me from its perch. I have my head to the side, blinking my eyes black with ignorance. I can feel the sharp beak of curiosity trying to figure out the way in, the way out, the best way to grasp that shining bit of knowledge and fly away. I can take it back to my nest of a mind where I now “own it.”

It is a process. It is all process.