MERRY CHRISTMAS, JOYEUX NOEL, FELIZ NAVIDAD, IDAH SAIDAN WA SANAH JADIDAH, ZALIG KERSTFEAST, FROEHLICHE WEIHNACHTEN, BOZE NARODZENIE, NOVIM GODOM, SRETAN BOZIC, and Peace to All



Do you ever look at the countries represented on this blog's Feed Burner or published comments?  Readers come from all over the world to read this humble blog.  I have tried to wish some of them happy holidays in their own language.  I am so honored!

I have missed you my dear readers.   I have been laid up with two abscessed molars that left me pretty much prostate in front of the dummy box hating myself for hours spent in mindlessness.  But I did catch some well-made programs too.

Also, I haven't  had a computer.  I was using Ubuntu Linux installed on Mac and it is hacked and in sad shape too.  I shall miss all my beautiful writing and art files stolen out from under me.  I continue to be determined not to resent the hacker(s) because I can't afford the negativity.  Perhaps Santa will bring me something cyber for Christmas.

I woke up this morning, Christmas Eve day, thinking for some reason as yet unknown to me legend of how the animals can talk on Christmas Eve.    And we all know animals are better than we are.  They aren't griping about moldy hay or mocking the new perm of the farmer's wife with their 24-hour gift of speech.  I prefer to think they are using it to show love.

Let me tell you about the cat who lives with me--the formerly underground cat.  My ex-brother-in-law lives alone and doesn't have many friends.  He was suffering from bipolar disorder and depression and had to go into the hospital.   He worried because he had no one to take care of his cat.  My daughter asked me to take it even though I have asthma and am very allergic to cats.  I felt for the man and the cat and agreed.

I have had plenty of pet cats over the years, but I never encountered anything like this misfit beast.  To begin with, it had been with Pete since it was a kitten, about 12 years, and absolutely hated the idea of going mobile with a total stranger.  As soon as it got here it ran and hid anywhere it could find, and, buddy, it found some good places.  I found the animal in kitchen cabinets whose doors were shut.  It could climb in through a half-open drawer.  It was one sneaky beast.  It absolutely refused all food and water and even milk for around a week and a half.   I was worried it would die but figured the trauma of having fluids pumped into him at the Vet's would kill him before dehydration did.   In desperation I did finally do something many cat lovers will hate me for, but I wasn't going to add having his cat die to Pete's emotional and situational problems when he got out of the hospital.   I got out the turkey baster and squirted some water into its mouth.   BTW, Pete had named it Baby.    I hated calling a senior citizen cat, one would would hope self-respecting proud feline "Baby," and settled on "Cat."

Cat, a terrified underground, half-starved pitiful creature, finally settled on one hiding place and stayed under my bed 24/7 except for secretive runs to the kitchen where I kept his food, water and kitty litter.   I figured he needed some daily change of scenery or he was going to get crazier than he was.    Because the poor cat was quite insane.   It wouldn't let me come near it to pet it or play with it.  It didn't want to sit on a sunny windowsill or on a comfortable cushioned chair.  It didn't meow and it didn't cry.   I guessed it just sat in its self-inflicted prison for all those hours waiting for Pete.   

My asthma got bad, my eyes itched and I could hardly breathe.  I grew impatient for Pete to come and get his pet.  He didn't return my phone calls to the hospital.   Then after about two months, my daughter, Marjorie, happened to mention that Pete had been home for several weeks.   I was mad.   What was up with that?   His best friend in the world, so the animal thought, had patiently waiting in his life of exile for his master's return and he was being so cavalier that he didn't rush right over and pick him up?

I gave old Petey a call the next day.  Imagine my surprise when he told me that it was now MY cat.   He didn't want the cat back.  His sinuses were so much better and he was sleeping much better now.   No, he was sure that he meant to give me the cat for good and I had accepted it.   Sonja had told him I would take it.  

My dear daughter admitted that she had said something to that effect because it looked like he might back out of going into the hospital and she was willing to say anything in my name.  He reiterated in stronger language than I knew him to be capable of that it was my cat, my problem, and he didn't much care about the 12 years bond or the fact that "Baby" had lived in a self-made prison without food or water wasting away for love of him.

I was ticked.  Now I would have to carry the guilt of moving this hapless, neurotic cat to a shelter and hope that he didn't suicide from the trauma.  I decided to enlist my son's help.  I would need someone with a car for sure.

But just a couple of weeks later, my 20-year-old son, Dundee, surprised me by suddenly moving out of his home with his step-mother for the past 13 years and coming over to tell me he was moving in because he had a falling out with step-mom.   As I have written before in this space, I had lived alone for over 14 years, enjoyed my solitude and was getting somewhat set in my ways in my later years.

But I love my son and my heart went out to him.   I cleared out of the one bedroom of my one-bedroom apartment, and he coincidentally inherited the crazy underground cat who lived under the bed and rarely came out.

A very strange thing began to happen.  My son had recently had to give up his pet rabbit.   Watching him pet or feed or play with his bunny was a joy because I got to see all his tenderness and gentleness.   Giving it up to a no-kill animal shelter must have broke his heart.   When I heard the news I worried that it was a sign that he had become cold, unfeeling and would now grow into a machine-man without a heart and no room in his life for bunnies. 

But I needn't have feared.   He was the same gentle, tender, funny, quirky and loving character he'd always been I discovered, only now I got to enjoy him at close range and learn his nuances and his inside jokes.  I took the couch and he seemed to thrive in a space of his own, saying it was the nicest bedroom he'd ever had.  He suffers from ADD and depression and I worry about him.   He can and does sleep 18 hours a day.  He doesn't work or go to school. 

I respected his privacy and didn't intrude on his closed door.  But one day the door was wide open and I saw a sight that almost had me speaking in tongues.    There on the TOP of the bed, curled into one large fur and young man ball were Cat and Dundee snuggled into a comfy sleep mode.   I honestly didn't believe that the cat would go near people--any people except Pete.   But when I tiptoed closer for a better look, I could plainly hear this once written off (by me) used up, pitiful creature now on his back with legs spread in indolence and comfort purring strongly enough that his fur was moving as though in a breeze.   He was one happy, contented cat.

My son named the cat Meatloaf because the orange tabby as a result of just eating and laying around, now resembled a big Wednesday night family dinner meatloaf when he could move himself away from Dundee* for a minute to go have a seat and wonder at his change in destiny.   Meatloaf followed Dundee around the house, climbed up his leg or jumped on the couch to be petted by him, and, amazingly, even showed some sparks of life and wanted to play crouch and pounce or jump me fast with Dundee.   I could not believe the burned out old cat had this second childhood in him.  

I didn't measure up.  Dundee was the Sun to his Earth.   I was just some Uranus sort of incidentally there and apparently somehow okay because the master interacted with me.   He let me pet him once or twice and then seemed to remember he had important state matters to attend to post haste.   Dundee could pet him for hours.   I wasn't even a substitute when my son went out for an evening.   Meatloaf just laid on the top of the bed by himself and waited for his man.

So that's my Christmas story.   We are never too old, inflexible or set in our ways to be transformed.   Look at me:   I once was put out if someone telephoned before noon or I didn't get to read.  journal, pray and meditate for three hours after waking.   Today I sleep in a pretzel shape on a barbed wire skinny couch, hope I can grab some caffeine before I need to talk and manage to catch solitude where I find it.   Call me Buffalo Chicken Wings.   I once trudged.   Love has set me free and shown me how to be flexible, stretch my butterfly wings and learn to fly.

BTW, guess what God gave Dundee to give me on exactly Christmas Eve?   Did you believe in the movie "The Miracle on 34th Street?"  I did.    I still believe in Santa too.    My incredible, amazing and brilliant son came home today carting a Windows XP computer that a friend was just going to get rid of.   He found all the accessories and cords and I'm back computing again.    God is always on time.   And, get this, last night, he brought home a newish microwave to replace my dying one that wouldn't hardly heat coffee any more.   Another freebie from a recycling friend thanks to God.  

God is good.   My son is an awesome sunflower in my dandelion garden.   My life is now a celebration of the a brand new journey and a rich original adventure.  

Don't you just love this life so much you want to kiss it back sometimes?


*The names of my children have been changed.  Marjorie and Dundee are made up.  My daughter, with a beautiful name and her brother, another great family name, insisted on it.


HOPE:

Today's Daily Word
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Hope
Hope is revealed in me.
Today begins the season celebrating the birth of the Christ child. Hope is revealed in us as we anticipate the unfolding good which is manifesting in the world and in our individual lives. We hold hope for all humankind to enjoy lasting peace and prosperity and to live in harmony as brothers and sisters. We envision ourselves blessing one another with divine love, a love that lives eternally in our hearts as the Christ in us. We hold hope tenderly and reverently in our hearts and allow it to grow and expand in our thoughts, feelings and actions. Hope is evidence of the Christ within us, stirring, moving, urging us to grow in faith and love.

WHAT ONE THING IS LEFT TO DO?

What if you had one minute to answer this question:  What do you think you are "supposed" to do before your life is over?

If the answer doesn't spring to mind, or maybe because it does too readily, take some solitary time now and go within and ask and listen deeply.

It probably has nothing to do with money, property, possessions, revenge, becoming famous or the ego's other favorites.  Ask your intuition.  Ask your heart.  Ask your higher consciousness.  Ask your soul.  Meditate on it.  The answer is there and it will come clear as dew on the young spring grass.

If you're just too analytical to trust the answers you carry within, get a pencil and paper and brainstorm a while.  Mind map if you like. Knock yourself out.  You can't get a Ph.D. in  it, have a fortune teller give you the news, or open your horoscope for the day and read it.

On the other hand, it is possible that someone close to you, who knows and understands you, and loves you unconditionally might have some answers for you that you may or may not believe.

Your best bet is to hone in on your own truth because we know what we know and we can believe it is true.

It's simple for many people.  It was for me when I asked myself this in a journaling exercise yesterday.  I instantly responded "Love."  That was it.  Before I leave Boot Camp for Souls I hope to have learned my love lessons well.  I want to love unconditionally, unselfishly, compassionately, and authentically.  I want love to come forth from my being as swiftly and naturally as drawing the next breath or blinking.   It should take no time, have no hestitation, succumb to no doubts that slow its progress or make critical judgments about who is worthy.  I want to become Love for Love is God and we are all this one God of Pure Love.  That is, I believe, what we came here to remember and to practice.

When I consider how slow and unsteady my ability to feel compassion for everyone and anyone, I think I must work on living many more years, because, brother, sister, I have a long way to go.

Namaste'.

Maryellen

CELEBRATE RECOVERY: IT GOES A LITTLE SOMETHING LIKE THIS

There is a saying around Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous meeting rooms: Your worst day sober is better than your best day high and/or drunk. As long as you are keeping the plug in the jug one day at a time, your sober living will absolutely get better or we will refund your misery.  When you first entered the church basements of A.A./N.A. you only knew that you had hit rock bottom. You felt unsure of yourself.

Perhaps you weren't even sure who you really were anymore. You had become a drinking/using machine that only lived to satisfy its cravings for the moment, and then set out to do it all over again. Sober living seemed an impossible dream.  Now you have joined with others in the bittersweet, painful process of peeling the onion layers that presently make up who you are. Welcome to sober living. First you have to peel off the user who pretended not to care about what was happening to their  life as it fell apart and crumpled around their ankles.

Then you unpeel a layer in which you pretended not to care what you were doing to loved ones with your drinking/using. You let them leave and take the kids.  You abandoned them and started a life without them.  You disappeared and didn't contact them.

Now you are getting in touch with your feelings for the first time since before you picked up a mood-altering substance, which may put you back emotionally around age 12.  As much as it hurts, it's a good thing--a healthy thing. You are coming to know your true self. It's all part of sober living. You are becoming a person who can hold up their head even when it means saying things like, "I'm scared.  I'm lonely.  I'm lost.  I feel overwhelmed.  I'm afraid I'll use again.

You decide to do what the program suggests and actually do something that doesn't even sound like anything you'd do:  You ask for help.  Better even than that, you ask a man or woman whose recovery program you admire to be your sponsor or temporary sponsor.  Then you begin telling that person how you really feel on a regular basis.  You are more honest with this person than you know how to be with yourself.  You didn't think you were capable of honesty any longer, but you open up and get rid of a lot of old garbage you've been carrying around that might lead you to drinking/using again.

You learn that your sponsor really gets you.   They understand at a level that only comes from having lived the same things themselves.  They seem to intuitively know what the right thing is to suggest or say to you because they listen to the still, small voice within.

The result is that you are having what Oprah likes to call "Ah-ha" moments pretty much every day.  You begin to feel as full as wonder as a five-year-old on Christmas morning.  You are awestruck by the miracle of a second chance at life and what it means for you.  You feel a thing called hope for the first time since you can't remember when.   You wake up looking forward to the day ahead not cursing it.  As they like to say around AA/NA tables:  Instead of saying, "Oh God, it's morning," we say, "It's morning, thank you God."

One day at a time becomes another new day of growth and opportunity.  You lose that sense of calendar pages being ripped off and tossed on the ground like some movie montage of time slipping by quickly without accomplishments, growth or change of any positive kind.  You are growing and changing each day.  The idea of using/drinking again becomes a nightmare to you.  In fact, you do have nightmares about it now, and when you awake and realize it's only a dream and you're still clean and sober, you are so grateful and give thanks.

Your relationships begin to improve.  Your significant other or spouse and you even start over and try to work things out after they see the change in you is for real this time and not just talk made up to try to manipulate them.

  You are meeting people who did not go as far down the rabbit hole of addiction as you did. You are also meeting people who went much further down, and you marvel that they are even alive. Don't compare. There are always those who are better or worse off.

You can't believe how many new friends in the program you now have.  You know most of these will be friends for a long, long time if not for life.  These are the people who will be standing up for you at important times in your life and being there when it counts the most.

What also astounds you is that you are working regularly and bringing in enough money to support yourself and your family.  You feel proud of your daily accomplishments and do the best job you know how to do.  Perhaps you go back to school with your vision set on pursuing a dream that you've harbored as a secret fantasy since you were a kid.  This is the time in your life when dreams become real.  Be sure to dream new dreams, big dreams.  They are no longer just grandiose using/drinking fantasies that never bear fruit

You can be proud of the person you have become one day at a time by working the twelve steps and going to A.A./N.A. meetings.  If you already have a conscious contact with a power greater than yourself, you are way out ahead in the gift of sober and clean living. If you don't, hang on loosely and don't despair.

Another saying around the tables is that when you can't find your higher power,  ask yourself who has  moved.   Wasn't it really you that moved?  Your higher power has been standing with arms outstretched waiting for you to return all the time.

  In sober living we get better physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. The important thing is that we all make it home to our freed selves together in sober living. Even if you have a hard day at staying sober and clean, you can break that one day into five or ten minute increments and you can hold on.  And then one day you're sitting at an A.A./N.A. meeting,  and a person newer to the program than you takes a seat. You can feel how nervous they are. You reach out your hand, introduce yourself, and share a little of what it was like for you when you were new. You can see the relief on the visitor's face as they listen.  They can't believe someone else  understands so well. Maybe you even offer to go out for coffee after the meeting..

You are doing 12th step work. There are many rewards built into 12th step work in sober living and most of them come instantly. You feel good about yourself. You feel like you are a worthwhile individual. You feel like you have an opportunity to give back some of what so many people generously gave to you. They told you to expect that reward in sober living. You give the new person your phone number. Maybe they ask you to be their temporary sponsor. You feel like your flying you are so high on life.

It's called sober living and you earned it.  Even better days are coming. Your close relationships, even with your spouse or significant other, are improving. The bills are starting to get paid. You feel better physically and know your body likes sober living and is healing. Your head is beginning to clear. You can even read again. Your kids seem to like you for the first time in a long time. Isn't sober living grand?  It's not all going to be smooth sailing. There still will be some rough seas. But you are on your way and you are only getting better from now on. Take heart.  Just for today all is well.

SIX OF ONE, HALF A DOZEN OF ANOTHER: WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

I discovered a great way to meet friendly bloggers, make a little AdSense money, have fun writing with some new ways of looking at things, and get my blog links out there and pick up some new readers.  It's called Seeded Buzz.com (MsRefusenik has spent many a mellow day into evening with seeded buzzes, and can tell you all about them. She was always getting taken advantage of by unscrupulous teenage pot dealers who sold her lids that were mostly seeds.). 

Seriously, it's a community of bloggers who share their content ideas and writing goals with each other.  The benefit of these friendships and idea and writing exchanges are increased subscribers, followers, revenue, backlinks, new writing opportunities, new topics to add your two cents to, and a place to get guest hosts to freshen up your blog and get some new perspective once in a while.

There are two parts to how you do all of the above, which I won't get into now or it will take the focus off what I am supposed to be doing with this post, which is "planting a seed" (a.k.a. providing linkbait.)

I read a very thoughtful, interesting, well-written post by a young woman trying to make a big decision and asking for help with it.  My job now is to write a post about this piece and link to it.

This will help Lauren Holgate, the young woman,  with her decision about whether she wants to incur loan debt by accepting a place on the January roster of MFA Fiction Program students that begins in January 2011,  or work on the debt she already has and try some of her other goals such as opening a coffeehouse.  You can read her post here.

Well, Lauren didn't count on  her post being  seeded by another B.A. in English writer who wants to write and publish books.  (And has started three different graduate programs at three different universities and dropped out of all of them.)  And what she couldn't possibly have known, but may now finding interesting, is that seven years after graduating from high school I read an article in the newspaper that said that with the 1972 changes in federal education legislation it was now possible for anyone who wanted to attend college to go regardless of finances.   I took them at their word, registered at a nearby university and became an honors student for four years, winning many unexpected grants and scholarships. 

Further, today, at 61 year-years-old, having discovered my life's purpose more completely, I am about to apply for financial aid as well as apply for grants and scholarships to attend graduate school in April 2011 in a totally new career direction.  The kicker is that I live solely on Social Security disability, and can barely afford to eat and buy my meds from month to month, no less afford a luxury item like grad school.   But I have learned that anything is possible with God so I might as well dream dream big

Lauren wrote out an interesting,  semi-realistic (how much does debt does she think she would take on in opening a coffeehouse?), goals list of the top five things she wants to accomplish by age 35.  And guess what?  Getting a master's degree in writing, or fiction,  or in anything does not make the cut to the top five.   It only shows up way at the bottom in what she calls "flexible goals" and explains that this means she might change her mind about them.  And even then it is snuggled in close to "become a personal fitness instructor." (because she loves to work out), and "go to an outdoor black and white movie." 

Now Lauren's husband. Tim, is in grad school himself, and they had a son, Isaac, before she finished her B.A., which brought on more debt than they were ready to take on.

She sounds like she really hates the very idea of any new debts, a good choice considering that that small baby will soon be needing money for education, more health care visits, larger wardrobes, dental work, haircuts, books and school supplies, maybe orthodontics, entertainment and dining out money, and on and on until he hits college age and the bottom drops out in their post-retirement years unless he wins a total-package scholarship.

As Lauren herself says, "unknowns" do get published (I guess she means regular writers who don't put "M.A." after their bylines),  and she can, too,  if she writes well.  Good writing has absolutely nothing to do with taking writing courses, judging from the educational backgrounds of some of the finest writers in the world.   Writers write.  That's how you get good.  If she writes, and writes authentically and from the heart, she will no doubt find someone willing to publish her.

 If you want to make money off of writing, you don't need a master's degree or even a bachelor's degree, to be a freelance writer.  You can get paid for publishing in magazines and other print and online publications, pr you can, and Lauren could write e-books and print books. 

My advice to Lauren, as someone who has lived and continues to live the anything is possible dream ticket on education, career and life's work, is if she really, really wants to get this master's degree--and she'd better really want it more than going to listen to a big band ("if there are such things as big band bars"). Because once she hits the wall of all those graduate level hours and hours of reading, writing that will take her away from her husband and infant,  she may want to drop out if she isn't fully motivated and committed.  If this is only something she's doing because she thinks it will look good, and she only wants it about as bad as she wants to go to a drive-in movie, she is going to definitely going to drop out and leave a mess of debt and unfulfilled commitments.  Besides, no one likes being quitter.

Let Tim be the grad student in the family for now.  She can always go later if she decides it's something she wants as much as  one of her top five goals like, say, learning to play tennis.  

 In the meantime, she appears to be a good writer and loves to write, so why wait to earn an income from writing?  As long as she is working at home already, she can sign up with an agency such as Elance.com, Sologig.com, or My Guru.com and find some gigs she  can do as a freelance writer. You can make good money on Elance I know for sure,  if you are ambitious and bid on a lot of jobs.  

She should get a copy of the most recent Writer's Market and get to know the markets and start reading the publications she's interested in submitting to so she knows their style and what they're looking for.  You can make really good money writing magazine articles or blogging if you choose your markets well. 

Start publishing and selling some e-books today.  Download any one of hundreds of free "How to Write, Publish and Sell Your E-book" e-books, pick a topic, write your outline,  and get writing.

There are countless ways to make money as a writer.  She could write music and CD reviews, since it sounds like she's into music.  She could write reviews of products, services, books, movies and organizations and their services.  She could get a job in television, movies, promotion, or drop out of writing for others, and try writing a television show or a screenplay.  

And yes, as someone mentioned, she could have written a novel in 30 days with the rest of the thousands competing with all of us who are writing furiously (or not) in the NaNovWriMo contest.  I don't have that many words as my NaNovWriMo word count. She could start today, bypass me and win the contest with the thousands others who will be winning.  I won last year, and I never thought I would achieve my goal of writing a novel.

And if she is determined to not lose the money she has already invested with the University, she should spend all of her free time researching scholarships and grants.  That's what I have been doing.  I found entire long lists of some I'm eligible for by virtue of being "elderly," a woman, in recovery from some of my diseases and conditions, having adult attention deficit disorder, and many more.   It just takes patience and time.  They are out there going to waste if no one finds them and claims them.  There are surely some for which she is eminently eligible.  Maybe her Dad being in the military, or her Mother's work offers something.  Perhaps her bank, her community, her church, or organizations she belongs to.  Her former high school might help give her suggestions and leads on some.  Start looking and you and Lauren wil find some. 

Finally, if she still can't make a decision, give the decision to the Divine, to whomever or whatever her power greater than herself is, to the Universe, to synchronicity, to the Cosmos, and then pay close attention and listen deeply for her answer.  It will come.  There are three possible answers:  Yes.  No.  Wait.   Take one and accept it.

Lauren, I hope you publish several bestsellers, open that coffee house, learn to play tennis like a pro, travel the world and end up living some place remote and exotic, and make a hundred records, all of them big sellers, if that's important to you, and many more dreams come true that you haven't even discovered yet.  May you learn your true life's purpose while you are young enough to fully pursue it.  May you find lifelong bliss doing what you love and making a living at it.

What do the rest of you think?  Go over to Seeded Buzz and Plant Your Seed.


 

   Writing Fiction Class at Southern New Hampshire University

Note:  Readers are welcome to read the original article and comment on it, but, as I understand it, no further seeds are invited to be planted on this post.













 




See Latest Seeds

Contact thousands of bloggers

"You Are The Light of the World" Movie - Mary Robinson Reynolds | The MasterMinding Maven®

"You Are The Light of the World" Movie - Mary Robinson Reynolds | The MasterMinding Maven®

HERE'S A SHORT CUT TO A EPIPHANY


I was inspired by today's post,"Within Us" on Deanne Fry's blog,SOME DAYS OR NOW (Click for link just below title of this post) and it reminded me of a very good Oneness journaling exercise. Faithful readers know how I value journaling exercises. You not only save hours and hours in the uncomfortable therapist's chair, you save paying his or her fees and you gain the kind of intuitive insights and epiphanies that your therapist couldn't possibly lead you to in a few hours as journaling can. See what insights come forth from your inner wisdom by taking the suggested time and completing the following statements. Don't censor or criticize your responses. Let your answers flow from your heart which doesn't lie.



Take 20 to 30 minutes to complete the following statements. Write quickly, tapping into your stream of consciousness; don’t stop or edit your words. Spend approximately two to three minutes on each statement.


• I am being invited to heal . . .

• I am being invited to forgive . . .

• I am being invited to surrender . . .

• I am being invited to become . . .

• I am being invited to express . . .

• I am being invited to create . . .

• I am being invited to expand . . .


Trust what you receive and what you know. Have faith in the guidance that’s coming to you. Dive in, and keep it simple and clear. Cut through complexity and confusion, and discover your holy curriculum of Oneness.


Affirmations


I AM a disciple of the school of Oneness, embracing my holy curriculum.


I AM engaging Life as my teacher.




My turn to share:



1. I am being invited to heal my relationship with my 20-year-old son who was estranged from me these past few months and said he hated me and that I was the worst mother in the world. Of course I took to my bed with depression and agreed that I was probably quite hate-worthy and the worst mother in the world for sure. But why now? Why so soon after he had just told me that I was his main supporter and confidant and that he could really talk to me when he felt like he had no one?


Now he has dropped from the sky to live with me for the first time in 13 years. We tell each other daily that we love each other. We kiss, hug and say "Good night. Sweet Dreams," just like when I used to put him to bed so many years ago. He cleans and scrubs my house, buys me food, is considerate and kind and talks to me as if I am a real person and not just a parent. We are healing and we are bonding. I thank God for this second chance.


2. I am being invited to forgive my son who threw cold water on me and screamed for me to get out when I saw him the time before he came over now to ask to move in. He still is somewhat volatile and can lose his temper easily. He's 20 and he's finding himself. He doesn't know his purpose in life yet, and lacks direction and guidance. I find forgiving him easier each day. He ends up apologizing and really is sorry when he goes off on me these days, and I am ready to forgive and forget again. Practice makes it easier each time.


3. I am being invited to surrender my will and my funky, ego's grandiose plans for a writing expert's platform, the right branding, a well-designed logo, a good promotion and marketing firm, best-sellers and appearances on David Letterman to hawk my new book (as yet unwritten) in favor of a life's purpose of answering the call of love to serve others who suffer as I have suffered with the stumbling blocks of diseases and conditions such as alcoholism, drug addiction, adult A.D.D., bipolar disorder and depression. I am 61 years old and about to go back to grad school to become a wellness counselor. I have direction. I have my soul's mission. I give up my plastic, image-based, egoic selfish, self-centered fantasies glady. Let me get myself out of the way and watch as God works out the details in Her own perfect way. I do surrender.


4. I am invited to become fully human, fully alive, and a multi-sensory human being capable of interpreting my life's purpose and soul's mission and message of service far beyond the limitation of my five senses. I have my intuition, prayer, meditation, the Holy Spirit, Angels, Saints, deceased loved ones, other teachers and guides in the spiritual realm, people on this plane of existence who are put in my life to point the way, books that I open at just the perfect time, synchronicities, signs, miracles, mandalas, symbols, magic and so much more.


A woman is calling me next Monday night to interview me for a Elder Wilderness Quest Scholarship for a one-week passage with women from around the world over 50 who want to mark the next stage of their lives with rites of passage and celebration in the high mountains of California. I am being called to become one with nature, the Divine, and with sisters to share it with as we tell stories, drum, create new rituals, fast, and hike. If I get it, and I trust I will because it feels right, I will mark my right of rite of passage into the next journey of my new life of service and well-developed knowledge of my life's purpose with the sacred. I am becoming at 61.


5. I am being invited to express my thoughts and feelings every time I write a post for this blog, and now as I have the great fortune of working on writing my NaNovWriMo novel to be completed in 30 days. I lose myself in it. I express so many different parts of myself through my characters. One minute I'm a 36-year-old life coach from a small town in California and the next a 61-year-old male bereavement counselor with a M.S.W. who works at a hospice and isn't allowed to discuss his days at home because his wife finds it all too depressing. And to think I could write the odd haiku anytime at all as well... It's a rich life!


6. I am being invited to create a totally new life. With a newly discovered life's purpose and direction in life, a new career path and educational plans in a whole new direction for me, I am trying on lifestyles like I am trying on hats at Neiman Marcus. I recently joined Toastmasters to see what it would be like to learn how to speak well publicly. I set up a self-help support group for people who have adult attention deficit disorder and I am getting it done and learning as I go. I may set up one for bipolar disorder soon too. I think I am going to try my hand at watercolors because I want to pain a series of mandalas. I can't seem to read novels any more which I used to ingest like Tic-Tacs at a rate of several per week. I now am only drawn to non-fiction books with information I can use, and inspirational and spiritual books. I am finding how good a novelist I might become if I try. I am creating a home for a son who hasn't been with me since he was seven-years-old. I am creating a new, more authentic, freer me.



7. Each days I am invited to expand more. New ideas, inspirations, suggestions, and opportunities come to me and I am not afraid of adventure and taking risks. More people fear public speaking than fear dying, and I have already got up before my Toastmasters club and given a short speech and won a first place ribbon for it. I never thought I could write one novel, now I am working on the second. I never imagined in all my years of solitude of making room for another in my life, but I am expanding. I am larger and more giving and loving than I knew. You have to use a muscle to know that you have it. If I were still a secretary in a soul-killing, death by boredom desk job dreaming of one day writing but afraid to write the first sentence I never would have expanded to write as much or professionally as I do today. If I had never taken the risk of pledging my life with a man's for love, which did not last forever, I would not have the two beautiful souls that have been entrusted to my care and bring my heart such joy and fulfillment. I grow and expand as I reach and stretch. I can achieve what the mind can conceive, as the motivational speaker says. Anything is possible with God I say.

SHOULD REAL LIFE INTERUPT MY NA NOV WRI MO NOVEL WRITING?

Last night at about 9:30 p.m. I had a 130 pound, 5'8" baby boy.  My 20-year-old-son has popped up and come home to roost.  He has been living with his step-mother for the past 13 or so years but they had a fight and he took her insistence that he help with the household bills to mean that he had to get out at once.  So rocks were thrown at my window to let me know my doorbell wasn't just trick or treaters, for whom I had no candy this year because every year I end up eating it all myself when not one shows up.

Yes, an angry, petulant 20-year-old, alienated from his sister, step-mother and the last time I saw him, he threw cold water on my head and told me to get out.   I did not throw water on him, however, and yell for him to get out.  But it doesn't look good for my NaNovWriMo novel which I haven't yet begun and didn't begin at midnight last night as I had planned.  Love comes first.

This kid needs nurturing.  He needs soft love and he needs tough love.  He has already walked out in one huff when I informed him,  after he screamed and kicked something across the room, that I wouldn't tolerate more dramatics from him.  But he came back, and he apologized.

He is growing up.  He is exerting his independence.  He has nowhere else to go.

And me?  I haven't been a hands-on, in the house mother for 15 selfish, self-centered, non-cooking, non-cleaning years.  I have lived in my solitude with my writing and my computer and kept my vampire hours, thrived on Diet Coke, coffee and the occasional nuked Indian curry or Mexican quiche, and worn clothes inside out instead of doing laundry.

As Bette Davis famously said in All About Eve, "Fasten your seat belts; it's going to be a bumpy night!"

He is, to call a spoon a spoon, a spoiled brat.  His Dad died of cancer when he was only 7, and people have given him a lot of breaks I think, because of that, including his very patient, loving step-mother.  I lost custody of my kids when they were quite young due to an alcoholic relapse and undiagnosed (at the time) bipolar disorder taking over control of my life.  Now I get to step out to main stage with the spotlight on me.  Will I be up to the role?

I still want to write my novel.  It is now after five in the evening, and I am words per day late and still don't even have an outline.   But when I asked while journal writing what I could write a novel about, these people stepped forward and started telling me all about themselves in detail and demanded to be in my book.  They dictated and I wrote.  I am less a novelist than a transcriber.  I now know what novelists are talking about when they say that their characters have a life and will of their own.

My son, Eric, asked me if I would help him go look for a job today.  Of course I said yes.  The kid has had only one brief job dish washing since he graduated from high school.  He started college but dropped out.  He really is without plans for his life.  I was trying to interest him in learning Ruby on Rails computer code and becoming a software engineer. They are in short supply and demand is increasing in the Chicago area, as it is for developers, application integration workers, quality assurance workers who ensure the software is working as planned, specialists in green IT, security, cloud, and and software as a service are also in short supply along with project managers and help-desk techs, according to Comp/Tia report.  Average salaries for software engineers in the Chicago area are about $90,000 a year, and the region employed about 131,000 IT workers in 2008, the report said.

My son looked at the October 17, 2010 Chicago Tribune article I had handed him, "Software engineers harder to find," for about one minute, and handed it back to me.

"Look, Mom, I can make my knee pop any time I want, and watch what I can do with my feet."

He got angry with me for not being enthralled with these feats that were the result of too much time on his hands and boredom, if you asked me.  Who needed a job that paid $90,000?

Don't get me wrong.  I've been in my children's lives all along.  I also have a daughter, now 24, who just moved out on her own too, but she has a shared apartment with a roommate.  I made it my business to follow their educational progress, meet with their teachers for conferences and other necessary chats, attend all extra-curricular activities before they could drop out of them, like soccer; take them to culturally stimulating, educational and entertaining venues from art museums, planetariums, to The Blue Man Group.  I spent one summer while my son was in high school teaching him my own course in classic movies.  We watched one film a week that I, and many others, considered great,  and discussed it.  It was fun, and he really did like many of the movies.

I was there to help give suggestions for writing reports, even when my daughter was in college.  I was proud to attend awards ceremonies for my daughter's social services awards, volunteer awards, and money and scholarship awards.  I attended the functions of her many clubs and organizations.  I was all ready to go to Parents Day at her college more than once when she uninvited me at the last moment because something better came up.



By bedtime last night, mine, he was going out with his friends, he was apologetic and gave me a hug and a kiss.  One of these days he may even apologize for throwing the water on me, but for now he says I had it coming because I didn't move fast enough and get out when he told me too.

So should I be washing my sink full of dishes so he won't get grossed out in the kitchen or should I get busy putting my novel's characters' traits on index cards and developing an outline and a timeline?

Why change horses mid-race?  I am the same slacker mom I always was.  I am a writer not a domestic goddess, as Roseanne terms it I think.  He walked out of here to go hang some more with his friends and mumbled something about bringing home job applications to fill out tonight.  And, the little bastard took my very favorite coffee cup on the road with him.  I may have 20 coffee cups, all dirty, but I don't drink it if I don't have my favorite mug.  So I'm starting my outline right now.  Wish me well.

If you're writing the NaNovWriMo novel and looking for a writing buddy who got off to a late start, drop me a line or leave a comment with your NaNovWriMo name and how to get a hold of you.

GOD, IF THIS IS YOUR WILL FOR ME, CAN I GET BACK TO YOU ON IT?



I used this question as a journaling exercise.  (I know it sounds like all I do is journal, but, hey, I save a fortune on therapists.)  The journal question was, "What conditions are you still tyring to set on your willingness to be led?"

I decided to take a look at how well I practice two of the steps of my 12-step recovery program;  namely, the third and the eleventh.   The third step is:

"Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him."  (Any power greater than yourself will do.  Some say it's their "H.P.)

The eleventh step is:

"Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out."

Regardless of what you're recovering from, if it's a twelve-step program, you will find those two steps.

I ask God in prayer and, when I can sit still long enough, in meditation,  what His or Her will is,  and for the power to carry that out every single day.  Then I immediately take it back and begin my self-will run riot day of pumping adrenaline and pouring down coffee and Diet Coke so I can accomplish more than three of the things on my daily to-do lists, which usually have about 25 items on them.

So this journaling question intrigued me.  Did I put conditions on doing God's will for me?

Yes, I do.  Here are a few that immediately came to mind:

1.  Whatever, God, but leave me some space, my solitude and plenty of time to write.

2.  Let me keep my freedom.  All of it.

3.  Don't make me do things I don't want to do.

4. Don't ask me to discipline myself or do things that are too hard for me.  I don't even like the word "discipline." 

5.  Don't require that I do things now instead of later.  God knows by now about what a terrible procrastinator I am.  Surely God doesn't expect me to break out of that nasty addiction anytime soon. 

6.  Don't forbid me from my noodling on the Internet time, my other time-wasters and my just plain lazy time.  Sometimes you have to sit back and chill.

7.  Don't care if I forget to ask what your will is or ignore it even when I am  pretty sure what it is.

8. Let me do things in my own way.  I want always to be in control.  (This method seems to make big messes and things have a way of never working out, but I don't learn.)

9.  I want to choose the people who come into my life, the synchronicities/coincidences God uses to send me messages, and the miracles that I want the most.

 10.  Don't require me to give up my dreams of one day writing a bestselling novel to do service for others as my life's work.  I can do both. Let me have both.

11.  Make things easier.  Let more doors open and more invisible hands reach out and help if something is your will.

12.  I need more magic and miracles to help me get on the right path and stay on it.  I need signs and wonders.  I need some surprise checks coming in the mail occasionally.

13.  Show me the way, inspire me, help me create.  I need you God.  I depend on you, really.

14.  Replace my doubts about whether I am doing your will with certainty.

15.  Send me reminders throughout the day to pay attention to what your will is and act on it.

16.  Send me some money, real abundance to make the way easier, especially if you want me to do things that cost me money like setting up the support group has.

17.  Never make me leave my comfort zone--not even for you.

18.  Don't let me lose my health or die before I fulfill my goals, your plan,and  my life's purpose and soul's mission.

19.  Don't keep making me go to more recovery support meetings and work the steps.  I get bored.  I've heard it all before.

20.  Don't make it your will that I quit smoking, eat healthy foods or exercise. It's just not in me.

I tell you I read these conditions I put on doing God's will and I was shocked.  I once wrote an essay about how God and I were sharing a bicycle built for two.  He steered, and my job was just to peddle.   He kept turning his head and yelling, "Just peddle."  And I realized that the best things, situations, jobs, people and opportunities came when I let go and let God and I just peddled and reported for duty. 

Now I had to face the facts.  I didn't necessarily want to give up control, be humble, be led at all, give up a successful career I fantasize about and the wealth that would go with it.  I do not want to do a lot of things God's way and not my way.

My conditions, and I know I could have written many more, made me sound like an insolent, stubborn child who didn't want to do her chores or listen to her parents' rules.  Was I really a brat?

And I wonder why my spiritual growth, life's purpose fulfillment, career success and personal self-improvement goals are so slow in coming.  God doesn't fight me for control.   God gives me free will to create crises and disasters with my grandiose ego and need to control.   That's my choice.  I have choices every day.  And a lot of the time I chose being in control even when I know the outcome will be one giant negative fall on my face as usual.


Do I really want to serve? 

Actually, I really do want to help others who are still suffering with the same diseases and conditions that I have blindly crawled and stumbled over to reach recovery.  I want to make their way easier for them than finding my own way of overcoming was for me.  Because it's all too damn hard when you don't know, or aren't sure, or can't admit what's wrong with you and all you can do, so it appears, is watch the remnants of your former life go down the toilet.  Goodbye spouse, kids, job, career, reputation, health... the whole  package down the drain while you try to figure out what hurricane just blew through your life.

You want to hear a corker?  After I wrote all this out in my journal I looked at the clock.  It was 7:15 p.m.  I thought to myself, "Well I'll never make that meeting now.  I think it starts at 7:30 p.m."  And I know I have been prompted to get out of myself and go to more recovery meetings.  But I didn't feel like it. It was cold out.  I wasn't even dressed yet.I had plenty of no-good excuses.

Something or God made me go look for the meeting listing in a directory.  It started at 8:00 p.m.  I started to get ready and thought about what a bad person I must be to immediately go against God's will for me after looking at the conditions I put on doing it.  I can feed on self-loathing and shame for days. 

I was glad I went.  I may have made a new friend.  In any event, I have a fellow recovering person to call so we can support and encourage each other.  It's always a good feeling when I do God's will because things go smoothly and work out perfectly.

When will I learn to just peddle?

My ex-husband, also recovering, couldn't take my controlling nature too much of the time.  He would play on the saying "Let go and let God" and say, "Maryellen, if you can't let go, just let."  And sometimes when I was being nutsy, he would turn to me and say a single word, "Let." 

I should hang that word over my desk.

HEY, YOU, OVER THERE--COME HERE--WANT TO SEE SOMETHING COOL? IT WILL BLOW YOUR MIND.

Ready to see something that will fill you will energy and light? It is something miraculous and you will be glad you stopped by. Go ahead and click on the title of this post now.  I'll wait for you here.

What do you think, eh?  Miraculous?  Unbelievably breathtaking?  Energy infusing?

You can play with them. They do everything.  You can be in one by tagging it.  You can even have one made for you. Transformational Artist K. Allen Kay is given your birth name and birth date. Taking the vibrational numbers of your life, spectacular geometric fractals are created.  And they really are spectacular. 


Now we're all getting on the bus and going to a Pink Floyd concert.

"I hope we don't get any bad acid."


That was a blast from the past.  I had fun. MsRefusenik's heart is still half in the Sixties.  She is a walking antique.  A woman came up to her on the train yesterday and reminded her she could be riding free with a senior pass, and told her she could get one at the senior center on Harris.  MsRefusenik was trying not to think about the the birthday she has coming up, but the world won't let her.  I wonder if her vanity keeps her from getting a senior pass.  She is actually not really old enough, but she does qualify by being disabled. 

Make a list of pros and cons about aging. Pros:  Cheap coffee at McDonald's  and movie discounts.  Cons:  Sagging everything, wrinkles, grey hair and feebleness.  But I was never given the list and allowed to choose now was I?

Here's what the mandala store says about their personal mandalas:

"Are you living up to your true potential? Are you ready to manifest miracles in your life? Do you long for more tranquility, harmony, peace and joy?
You are more amazing than you have ever known or dreamed!!!
Individuals all over the planet are using Personal Energy Mandalas to access their inner reservoirs of greatness, strength, beauty, and creativity and accelerate manifestation."

 I know I am saving up for one.  They aren't as expensive as you might think ($89). 

All I know is that twice this week the first thing I saw when I got on my computer was one of these miracles of luminescence put up on my wall at Facebook by my new friend and soul sister, Deanne Fry.  I took the first one to be a symbol of my new beginning on living my life's purpose.  I am filled with wonder at what gifts synchronicity (and Deanne) will bring me next.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PREVIEW OF COMING ATTRACTIONS

ALEKSANDRA SASHA NATALYA PETROVA (aka Sasha Petrova, "The American Lady Who Isn't Afraid of Color, Smurphgirl, Smurphy, and I think there's more) originally from Seattle Washington now of Mazatlan, Mexico is coming to visit.  She is the author of the recently published autobiographical A Leaf In The Wind. 

Here are a few reviews from Amazon.com.:

4.0 out of 5 stars Honest and brutal with a touch of humor, August 4, 2010
By Zoe F. Jussel "zoesterone" (Bisbee, arizona) - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME)   
If one can say a topic like this can have humor and still be like a knife in the gut, then so be it. Sasha Petrova has a way of weaving a true life story to capture the heart and soul of this type of abuse, but coming out of the dark tunnel to light and with a wicked sense of humor. How she can be the strong and solid walk-on-earth type of person she is, creates a large arena for question. Read the book; you don't have to have the same experience, you can be a man or a woman, a girl or a grandmother; there is a place for all of us in this story. Great first effort and I know we will see many more.


Village Cantina Linda Crossley "Zorro" (Mazatlan Mexico) - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME)   
Amazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)
This review is from: A Leaf On The Wind (Paperback)
Meeting the Author in Mazatlan was my introduction to A Leaf On The Wind - curiosity lead me to download her book on my Kindle. I was blown away by the brutal honesty Sasha shares exposing herself to readers. Her story is heartbreaking and real. I found myself wondering how a person could go through a life like this and come out the other end in one piece. I couldn't put the book down - If I didn't know better, I would have thought this book was totally based on a fictional life of a person on a runaway roller coaster. If you have suffered abuse, Sasha may share insights to help you get through it, if you haven't suffered abuse you will be truly grateful for your own life.



5.0 out of 5 stars Inspiring, October 14, 2010
By Gayle Farmer "PSKITTY" (Palm Springs, CA USA) - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME)   
This review is from: A Leaf On The Wind (Paperback)
This book is both heartbreaking and uplifting as it takes the reader along on the perilous journey that was the author's childhood.

This reader's emotions ran the gamut from anger to outrage, then profound sorrow as her family, church, school and the system failed Valerie again and again. Her final victories are sweet reading after the pain and fear of her early life, satisfying and uplifting.

Petrova is a survivor in every way imaginable, strong yet vulnerable and always hopeful. An excellent debut novel by an author who inspires us all. We'll be hearing more from Petrova.

------------------

I have read this novel and been  turned inside out by it,  I am amazed by her ability to not just survive the trauma she endured, but overcome it, heal and forgive.  I am proud to call her my friend and a writerly sister and mentor at FanStory where I continue to enjoy installments of the mystery she is working on and the series of humerous short stories on life in Mazatlan (hilarious), soon to also be made into a book,  as well as her other stories and poems.

So we can look forward to her coming very soon.  I will tell you more about her then.    It is generous of her to take the time out from a real press tour to visit little old MsRefusenik.

Nelson Mandela with quote

DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU'RE HERE?





We've talked a lot lately about knowing your life's purpose.  If you don't know what you are supposed to do in your life, how do you find out?

Sometimes a liberal education or talents in one area aren't enough to pinpoint your purpose in life.  It helps to know what direction you're headed so you can be on the right path and start fulfilling your soul's mission and your life's aspirations.

Some people just seem to be born knowing.  They say things like, "All my life, from the time I was little boy or girl, I wanted to be a writer, or a doctor, or a musician, or an archeaologist."

Some people are born into families where their choices feels restricted.  Your father was a lawyer, his father was, your great-grandfather was and everyone assumes you will study law too.   But you want to be a baker.  Kneading dough for bread is like making love to you.  How can you tell your family you are breaking with family tradition to bake?

Here's one important way to discover your purpose in life:  It is always going to involve something you love to do, something that doesn't even feel like work to you.  When we know our true purpose in life and wake up every morning to apply ourselves to fulfilling it, we can't wait to get up and start the day.  Feelings of joy and excitement begin to percolate as soon as we open our eyes and realize we have another opportunity to do something we love so much.

Ask any artist, writer, painter, musician, sculptor, dancer or actor how they feel about getting up and starting another day in which they know they will get to use their talent.  They can't wait to start!

How do you feel about what you spend the majority of your time doing?  If you dread getting up and going in, if you start feeling quesy on Sunday nights because Monday is right around the corner and you have to go to work, you need to find your life's purpose.

It's always best when we can discover it in our twenties or even our thirties.  In the prime of our lives we can work arduously at whatever the mission is.  Our lives in those decades is all about becoming established in a career, as a family member, as a home owner, as a member of a community in good standing.  It is a splendid time to know who you are and what you want out of life.

But what if you don't have an iota of a clue what purpose your life could possibly have?   You collect tolls all day at the tollbooth.  You sometimes feel like you might start screaming from the tedium of it and the complaints and angry words yelled at you by drivers.  Your stomach is acting up and you drink too much.  It's affecting your marriage and your wife is talking about getting a separation.  You have lost whatever interest you used to take in people, places and activities around you.  You feel like you've been condemned to hell and you will never be free.

Sometimes we have to take risks to discover our life purpose.  We have to try different lifestyles and careers on like we're shopping for a pair of shoes.  You can't know if something fits without trying it on.

But it's hard to just get up one day and say "F*^k it I quit."  It's much easier when you have a direction, a path to follow.

HOW TO FIND YOUR PURPOSE IN LIFE

I really was surprised at how much help I got with this from a book.  The book is The Purpose of Your Life:  Finding Your Place in the World Using Synchronicity, Intuition, and Uncommon Sense, by Carol Adrienne.  This book is no phony scam book of junk.  It's the real thing and it will help you learn a lot about yourself and it may even help you determine your purpose in life.

It begins with finding a power greater (higher power or H.P.) than yourself to which you can unite.  Your desire for union with God or this H.P. causes you to want to take action that you believe is God or H.P.'s will for you.  Things fall into place when you do this. In fact, they work out perfectly and better than you could have done doing your will.

Try an experiment tomorrow.  If you don't usually consciously make an effort to follow God's will during the day, decide that you will and ask this higher consciousness to guide you in that direction in all your words, interactions with others and actions that day.  Then during the day, pause from time to time and remind yourself what you're doing by asking, "Is this what you want?"  You will get a "Yes," "No" or "Wait."  Listen and follow.

Notice all the coincidences and things that are in Divine Order throughout the day.  You might get the very last parking space, a small thing, but you notice it. You get a check in the mail that is totally unexpected.  Out of nowhere, your daughter tells you how very much you mean to her.  Your boss gives you a raise and a great evaluation.  A car headed right towards yours just misses hitting you in a miraculous last second move.

Ask yourself:  Do you want to live in the flow of your life purpose?  Can you admit what's working in your life and what's not?  Do you believe that your intuition is guiding you to fulfill your purpose?  Are you willing to commit to taking small steps toward the things that mean something to you?  Can you let go of struggling for power and attempting to control others?   Do you believe that everything happens at the right time?



1. What did you want to be when you were a child?

2.  When you were a child, what did you love to do?

3.  What activities do you love today?

4.  What are your best qualities?

5.  When do you shine?

6.  What do you excel at?

7.  When are you most yourself?

8.  What do you do effortlessly?

9.  What do you keep being drawn to?

Review your answers.  Put it all together as "I seem to be in the business of..."

Come up with a working purpose statement.

My working purpose statement that I came up with from these questions was:

My purpose in life is to be my authentic self, and share my vision and dreams in creative, loving ways that will have a positive impact on the world and its people.

Today my purpose is less grandiose and more specific, but it definitely was something to go on which was a lot more than I had.  I knew I was writer, but I didn't know what I was supposed to do with my writing.

When you start getting some ideas, perhaps even some images of yourself in various roles will come to mind.  Try making a collage of your life's purpose.  Cut out magazine pictures that remind you of your goals and dreams.  Glue these to poster board.  Scatter photos of yourself and glue them among the magazine pictures to get the idea into your subconscious.  Watch for real life images you run across that remind you of pictures on the collage.  Become aware in dreams and coincidences of the manifestations of connections to your purpose.

Finally, to know your life's purpose and operate from it, pray and meditate.  Nothing is more powerful.  You will find that answers come in people you meet, situations that appear, opportunities that open up and more.  You will know you are on the right path. When you lose that sense, it's time to ask again to do God's will.  Pray and meditate some more.

You will find abundance and joy.

IS SOMETHING JUST PLAIN WRONG WITH YOUR LIFE?




You may not like to talk about it, you don't even like thinking about it anymore, but you know something is wrong with your life.  Your relationships are suffering, you're not happy, it's hard to focus on work when you do go in, and sometimes you feel like feel like you might be losing your mind. 

The worst time for me were the long periods when I knew something was terribly wrong with my life but it didn't know what it was.  If it didn't have a diagnosis, it couldn't be treated.  So I went without help in a mysterious limbo where everyday brought new things that I could not explain, identify or account for to myself. 

Perhaps your wife, husband, partner, friend, parent or someone else close to you has made remarks or asked you questions about the changes they see in you and your behavior.  This may have irritated you and caused you more anxiety since you didn't have any answers for them.

One day you wake up and think it was going to be like one of the good old days and everything was going to be normal for a change, and then like a jack-in-the-box popping out, you'd have what you had come to think of as your "episodes" and everything was off kilter or off into a maze of craziness once again.  

Do you look in the mirror and ask, "What's wrong with me?"

So what do you do to get help?  Are you ready to get help?  You may not be ready yet. 

You continue to see your therapist, but you don't really talk about what's bothering you.

You go to church.

You pray.

You throw yourself into volunteer or service work.

You change these around in your lifestyle, routines and behaviors like buying a new day planner in an effort to stop being chronically late.   Or you cut up your credit cards,  and stop carrying around more than ten dollars at a time.  You go back to trying to just smoke marijuana.  You only drink every other day.  You sign up for a group that will help you get out of yourself.  You take up a new hobby. You take up a new sport or exercise regimen.  But nothing changes the thing, the big thing that is terribly wrong with your life and won't just go away on its own.

Why doesn't it get better?  Maybe you did talk about it in therapy, at least parts of it.  You wrote about it in your journal.  You confided in a friend or family member.  You went to confession and started going to church.  You got up earlier and picked up breakfast on the way to work.  You promised the boss you would have that presentation done by Wednesday and you really made an effort, even giving up your night out and your lunch hours, but you missed the deadline again. 

You forgot to pick up the kids.  You suddenly quit your job or were terminated.  You had your first panic attack.  You bought a new car you know you can't afford.  You stole money from your own mother.  You haven't been out of bed except to go to the bathroom in three weeks.  You thought you saw your dead grandfather in your bedroom.  You hit your wife.   You got to the grocery store and couldn't remember a single thing you had come to buy.  You received over one hundred dollars in overdraft notices from the bank. Your mind is constantly racing and you can't focus.   You told your boss to f**k off.  You promised your husband you would come straight home from work,  but you didn't make it home until three in the morning.  The dishes in the sink haven't been washed in a week.   You lost your house keys again.   You forgot your anniversary.  You made a huge spectacle of yourself in public.  You made a pass at your boss's wife.  You fell down and badly injured yourself.  You haven't slept in three days.  You promised your son you would help him with his homework,  but then you got distracted by something else.  You took an overdose of sleeping pills.  You slit your wrists.  You had a heart attack, a stroke or some other serious medical crisis.

These are the type of things that go on happening when It doesn't have a name. It is the mystery ailment that sets you apart from others and wreaks havoc in your life without leaving its calling card.

True, we all know,  denial is not just a river in Egypt.  Denial can be a major or the largest factor in going without help for long periods.  Shame, feelings of self-hatred, low-self esteem, feelings of failure, dishonest thinking hiding out and covering up as a way of life can be factors.  Not being willing to even look into what it might be for fear you'll get an answer that will require a major lifestyle change is another.

What typically forces a person in this predicament to go looking for the answer?  Sometimes a separation or divorce will jar someone into taking action.  A death of a family member or friend can motivate a person to find out what exactly is wrong with their life.  A child expressing fear, disappointment or disrespect can get through the fog and trigger a reaction in a parent.  A major medical crisis or a suicide attempt is sometimes enough to send someone looking for real help.

Where Do You Go First?  What Do You Do?'

You begin with self-honesty.  You face the man the man or woman in the mirror and get as honest as you still know how to be.   It may be that you really don't know and you aren't in denial. Then if you go to a doctor, a psychiatrist or therapist, look up your symptoms on the Internet, call a crisis phone line, or just talk to somebody and be open about what has been going on with you. 

My Undiagnosed Years:  Sometimes we're the last to know.


I had know idea that my inability to get out of bed and take an interest in life was clinical depression.  I was waiting for it to go away on its own.  As if  I really was just in one long bad mood or having an attack of self-pity,  as the people around me seemed to suggest with their "snap out of it" themed remarks.

And I love the title of the self-help book You Mean I'm Not Lazy, Crazy or Stupid? because that was sure how I felt when I learned I had adult attention deficit disorder (A.D.D.).   I also learned I had not lived up to my potential since childhood because of A.D.D.

I really thought I had to be losing my mind when I had bipolar disorder and didn't know it.  (I wasn't though, thank God.  It's not a psychosis.)   I called that thing that was out off center in my life in a big way "severe, chronic and terminal PMS" to my friends and husband, and I sought help from gynecologists. 

When my drinking progressed to daily binges,  I got creative.  I knew I couldn't be an alcoholic.  My parents were alcoholics,  and I knew what they were like:  a couple of out of it drunks who staggered around and slurred when they spoke.   No, I was special.  I had a rare mental illness which might look for all the world  like alcoholism,  but was really a neurological illness of some kind that caused a person to have to drink every day.   They emotionally and mentally had to drink because  they were entirely too sensitive for the crassness of this world.  I was an artiste--a writer--and I was unique. Yeah, and then I got better and told people how "terminal uniquitis" almost killed me.  Because if no one has a diagnosis for you, that means help isn't forthcoming.  

Drugs?  I rationalized to any "straight" person that would listen that I "mostly" just smoked marijuana and everybody knew that should be legal because it was harmless.

The problem with my thinking, my denial,  was that I didn't include psychedelics, which everyone knew were a sacred consciousness-raising drug.  Nor did I feel like including all the bottles of codeine cough syrup I drank, the many, many bottles of barbiturates, amphetamines and  pain killers;  cocaine, hash, and many more,  including the odd pills I found on the ground and then later looked up in the Physician's Desk Reference to see if they were worth taking or not.

So that covers my mysterious thing that took control of my life at various ages and caused it to become something I didn't recognize as my own.

 How About You?  Are You Ready To Call It By Name?

How about you?  Are you ready to cut through the denial and admit what earthquake is causing the aftershocks that have altered your life for the worse?

Things You Can Do:

 Write out all the symptoms your experiencing and see how many are branches of a common tree.  Go talk to your minister, priest or rabbi; employee assistance program person, counselor, doctor, or spouse/significant other.  Listen to their feedback and let it in before you discount it.  Are a number of people close to you all telling you the same things?   You could try an open meeting of a self-help group where you don't have to be a member to attend.  You also don't have to participate, but you will be able to listen and see if you belong there.

To get you started I'm going to include links to some simple quizzes to check yourself for signs and symptoms of these conditions.   The rest is up to you.  How long do you want to stay miserable?  Isn't it time to make a break a break for wellness? 

Remember, you only need to make the change in your life for one day.  You can do anything for one day.  You can build a house all by yourself.  You just have to do it brick by brick.

I hope this is your first brick.

1.  Are You Bipolar?

2.  Are you an addict?

3. Are you an alcoholic?

4.  Do I have adult attention deficit disorder (A.D.D.)?

5.  Do you have depression?