Month: February 2017

I’m laying here sick
and the damn birds
Are singing away.
No respect
For me and
My pain.
My doggies are
In their usual
Niche snoozing
In the curves
Of my body.
Not getting any
Sympathy from
Them.
This is not right!
Lying here I notice
One bird
Is singing
A song that
Is clear and strong
Like a solo
With a Chorus.
There is no director
But the breeze is waving
And pointing.
It’s easy to doze off
With the warmth
of my dogs’ bodies
And their quiet snoring.
2 Dog Night and day.
A song and warmth.

When I am young again, then I will…
When I get published, then I will
When I get thin, then I will
When I die, then I will…

Wait a minute! If I am dead then it is too late, way too late! Do I need to get permission, attain a certain goal, or prove I am worthy before I do whatever it is that I want to do? If I am seeking evidence to prove that finally I have suffered enough, then maybe I need a different equation. I have a deep-seated feeling and belief that I am undeserving . I do not deserve to be happy. I do not deserve to enjoy my life. Most certainly I do not deserve to spend money on something I can afford but do not need. I almost stutter when I say “I want”, its hard to speak when this voice in my head is shouting “selfish”!

Reviewing my first paragraph I notice how many sentences begin with “I” and I feel uncomfortable drawing attention to myself. Permission needs to come from someone else doesn’t it? Without validation from others, I question even my questions! The committee in my head is loud and disagreeing. My toxic companion, Depression, throws it weight around too. I get lost in this maze and soon I am paralyzed with fear and undeservingness.(not a word, but it works for me). I am waiting for a booming voice from above that tells me ” Go for it Danita, you deserve the best life has to offer.” Do you hear anything? Me neither.

Damn! It looks like I am responsible for changing my beliefs and practicing compassion for myself. So what I tell myself is the origin of my best or worst life. My beliefs are not facts or alternative facts, I can change them and allow the good into my life. So challenging my negative beliefs is a good place to start my abundant life. First I need to hear what my thoughts are saying, especially when they come so fast I can have a feeling without realizing that a negative thought preceded the feeling. If I become aware of my negative beliefs, I can then ask “Is this true?” or as my friend Susan says “Would it hold up in a court of law?” It would never go all the way to the Supreme Court, case dismissed! I can choose my beliefs about allowing abundance in my life and mute the naysayers in my head.

It is hard work challenging my negative beliefs because for many years they have been in charge of my life. They are part of my status quo and my brain has ruts where my thoughts have travelled so many times. Neural pathways of negativity. With practice I can create new thoughts, new neural pathways and new habits that support abundance. I can over-ride the undeserving thoughts and resolve that I will survive the backlash of guilt and shame which come up. I am very excited about a cruise I am taking in October and several shows on my calendar. Guilt and shame, I am warning you that I might just let you go!

 ” … in surrender what actually happens is that your own nature comes to a flowering.” Osho

Give up! What kind of advice is that? I can’t just give up, wouldn’t that make me a quitter? Remember when we used to say 7 take away 5 equals 2? Lately my life has been about subtraction or take away. I subtract so that I can weigh my choices and see what my life equals. Do I want to keep this knick knack or this judgement, attitude or belief ? Does this serve me or am I serving it? Maybe I should donate some of my clothes rather than buying more hangers. I think that a life take away drinking and smoking equals a fuller life. What can I quit or give up that helps me live my fuller life?

“There’s gold in dem thar hills!” Panning for gold uses water for sifting out what is “not” gold, like rocks and sand. It is also true, “All that glitters is not gold.”. There is a rock called Fools’ Gold, it looks like gold, but is not the real deal. I don’t want to be fooled into pursuing goals and accumulating things I don’t need or want, because I believe if I quit, I am a failure. There are many societal messages that tell me what I “should” want, but not many that help me discern between real and fools’ gold for myself. So what’s left if and when I take away the “shoulds”? Trying to get through just one day without saying “I should…”, should be easy. Damn, I blew it already.

We talk about clearing the decks and getting down to brass tacks when we are ready to get to work. I want to clear away what is not essential and does not fulfill me. This means I have to quit my frantic pace so I can get down to me. People pleasing and living someone else’s life keep me too busy to ask what I want for myself. Don’t bother me with this bleeding heart, feeling stuff! I don’t have time, but when I do….  My husband Roger died a little over a year ago. He thought he would have time to finally enjoy his life when he retired, but it turned out that time was the one thing he didn’t have.

Henry David Thoreau:
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.

My goals are: 1.Give up, 2. Quit

“We won’t get fooled again.”  The Who
It was an early fall evening, and we were all in sweatshirts and jackets. The clear night offered just a bit of chill and together we held hands , warming and supporting each other. The stars were witnesses to our chants: “Hell no, we won’t go!” and “Power to the People!” There were signs, speakers and music. I remember I felt so alive and charged with energy. I had something to say, we had something to say, and we were shouting to be heard. To end our protest, the organizers asked us all to sing “Imagine” by John Lennon. It has been many years since that night, but even now I can hear all of our voices beautifully joining together, and echoing across campus. “Imagine all the people sharing all the world…” We could still imagine a world at peace and we were asking for peace on that clear night. I was 19 years old. I believed I had the right to protest peacefully and be heard.

It has been over 40 years since that night, and now the fervor of protest has been stirred in me again…thank you President Trump for awakening this sleeping giant. On Tuesday, I was one of two thousand, to protest recent immigration policies ordered by President Trump. It was a warm winter day in the upper fifties, and the march was at noon. We didn’t hold hands but we carried with us the dignity of each and every American. Young or old, white or black, heterosexual or LBGT, man or woman, Muslim or Christian, it didn’t matter. No walls, no lines drawn randomly in the sand. We could have sang ” Imagine” and it would have resonated just as it did forty years ago. Will we ever learn from the past, or is it “different” this time? It looks the same.

Of course I am not that strident and angry college student any longer. At 19, my boiling point was much lower than it is now. Now, I may simmer with experience and discernment, but I can still reach my boiling point of “I’m mad as hell, and I’m not gonna take it anymore!” In all the forty plus years from then to now, how have I changed and what have I learned? Honestly, there are times when I am certain that I have not learned one single thing in forty years. I still think I am always right, but I can’t deny that I have been wrong many times. Damn! So I try to pause before my mouth spews out words that I will regret. The sign I carried at the Tuesday march said “Build bridges, not walls.” Nothing puts up walls faster than judgement. It’s a bitch to take down a wall brick by brick when you finally figure out that your brother and sister are on the other side. I have to go, and get to work taking down that wall.

My political blog is: makesomenoise.blog