awareness

“A woman would never make a nuclear bomb. They would never make a weapon that kills. They’d make a weapon that makes you feel bad for a while.”
– Robin Williams

The death of Robin Williams has really cut close to the bone for so many of us. 

Is it because we’ve watched in awe as he’s demonstrated his in-the-moment, out of body, brand of free form humor since Mork and Mindy?
Or
Is it because another beautiful human being has lost their fight with depression and addiction?

I used to love watching the people around him, from Johnny Carson and Barbara Walters to Charlie Rose, try to keep it together as he drifted seamlessly, and hilariously from discussing one of his movies, into a dolphin, a monkey or a dude on quaaludes.

“We had gay burglars the other night, they broke in and rearranged the furniture.”
~ Robin Williams

I had the privilege of seeing him at a small club on the Sunset Strip in the late 1970’s, just before his big TV break. We heard there was this guy who was nuts, and was about to become a huge star, Hollywood was all abuzz.
His standup act was a rapid fire, stream of consciousness barrage of curse words, accents, impressions and crazy voices, all improvised, as he ran back and forth across the stage for almost two hours, soaked with sweat and high as a kite. The act was filthy, filthy, filthy dirty, but not mean. It never was. I always liked that. 

“Do you think God gets stoned? I think so … look at the platypus.”
~Robin Williams

The audience was filled with uptight industry execs and young people from the music, TV and movie worlds. We had NEVER seen ANYTHING like him.
The laugher was so loud and ceaseless, that I missed a ton of what he was saying. I thought people were going to have strokes; their faces beet red, all bent forward, barely able to breath – from laughter. I’ve never before or since witnessed anything remotely close to that night. He was Divinely inspired, with his high wire comedy act.
It felt courageously dangerous.

It’s a toss up which serious movie of his was my favorite. He was such a gifted actor, even more so because we all knew that wild side he was keeping behind some big thick, metal bars deep inside, delivering someone else’s written lines.
But the light from his huge heart always leaked through.

I wrote earlier this week about the unexpected death of a friend’s brother, and how we need to tell the people we love, that we love them – because they could be gone tomorrow.
Rita Wilson urged everyone today to do the same, because of Robin.
We also have to take depression seriously.
If you or someone you know is suffering from depression, please don’t isolate. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Please tell someone. Reach out, because you are NOT alone. As Anne Lamott wrote so passionately, with her unflinching honesty and understanding of the subject: don’t step off into the abyss. There can be resurrection.

“In America they really do mythologize people when they die.”
~Robin Williams

The number for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is 1-800-273-TALK (8255)

…and you may not marry them ,date them, or even like them very much. But you should thank them.

Love you,
Xox

I read something this weekend that touched me, and reminded me about those certain sweet aspects of our connections with each other that get swept aside because we think we have all the time in the world.

The man who I worked for in the jewelry business for almost twenty years lost his brother on Tuesday in a very sudden and unexpected way.

Damned heart attack.

That loss will reverberate throughout their family in untold ways and my heart goes out to each and every one of them.

I didn’t know him well, but having been to family birthdays and holiday parties over the years, I’d met his wife and kids and we’d had our share of kitchen duty and kid clean-up casual conversations. He was an active outdoorsman, family man and cut up.
He had the huge grin of a Cheshire Cat, and I always liked him.

I was hoping to find out if they were having any kind of service for him, where I could go and extend my condolences, so I checked the obituaries in the LA Times.
He hadn’t suffered a long illness, and was only in his early sixties, vital and active, so his obit reflected how hastily it had been put together. It was short and sweet.

I scrolled down to the comments and although not too many people have felt compelled to comment beyond their shock and sadness, there was one that was so personal and tender, it really touched my heart.

It was written by his yoga teacher.
Apparently he had had a regular yoga practice for many years, (which makes me like him even more) and he had been to class on Monday, the night before he passed.
She wrote that some people bring something special with them to class; and that she will miss his presence.
She explained that he fell into the category of students that made her happy when she came into the room and saw them on their mat, in their usual spot. She said that she had wanted to say goodbye to him after class, but often people are so peacefully zoned out that she doesn’t like to disturb them, and she regretted not having her last hello/goodbye with him that night.

That was the takeaway for me.
We all skip those little moments.
The simple hi or goodbye, maybe even a nod or smile or that split second of eye contact to let someone know that you were happy to see them.
We respect their privacy and skip the hug.
Then the next day- they’re gone.

Her simple words reminded me of something I think we all tend to forget.
Life’s too short and I hate regrets, so if I see you, I’m going to say hello and probably hug you.

Love you all, big hug,
Xox

“A man will be imprisoned in a room with a door that’s unlocked and opens inwards; as long as it does not occur to him to pull rather than push.”
~Ludwig Wittgenstein

From yesterday’s Ted Talk by Michael Neill.
That quote still gets to me. When I think of all the tears and energy I’ve wasted all those MANY times I’ve pushed instead of pulled.
How about you?

Happy Sunday my loves!

Xox

Morning Loves,
I love Ted Talks and I LOVE when I see someone have such a good time delivering one.
This is a Ted Talk and subsequent article from my new hero, Michael Neill. There are so many people out there talking about this new way of thinking, I just like his delivery SO MUCH.
So of course, I HAD to share it with you!
Great information with lots of fun and humor. Please take the time to watch or read. It’s the weekend for chrissakes.

Big mid-summer love,
xox

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xr6VawX2nr4

Michael Neill is an internationally renowned success coach and the best-selling author of The Inside Out Revolution, You Can Have What You Want, Feel Happy Now!, the Effortless Success audio program and Supercoach: 10 Secrets to Transform Anyone’s Life. He has spent the past 22 years as a coach, adviser, friend, mentor and creative spark plug to celebrities, CEOs, royalty, and people who want to get more out of their lives. His books have been translated into 13 languages, and his public talks and seminars have been well received at the United Nations and around the world

http://www.bornhappy.co/michael-neills-formula-for-happiness/

“Miracles can happen, even to those who are small, flammable, and dressed all in black.”
― Lemony Snicket

This being a Flash Back Friday, it gives me the opportunity to recall events, places, people and bad hair styles from my past. So, when I sat down to write, this story of a mystical experience I had back in the day came to mind.
It is just one of many I experienced back then.

If you recall, I was having a hard time of it back in the early nineties.
I had a good life. Great job, money, travel, the whole shebang, but I had opened myself up to a very life altering spiritual experience – awakening is a better word, and it had knocked me on my ass – spiritually speaking.
(I wrote a few posts about it. You can find them under We Have An Agreement in the search section of the sidebar)

I was having a hell of a time staying grounded which has its own set of problems, the worst ones being, I HATED how I felt and I could find NO joy in life.

“If this is enlightenment? It sucks and you can have it!” I’d yell to no one in particular.

It is my understanding, garnered from the very extensive and exhaustive study of ME and my experience; that the Universe in order to keep you in the game, lays a carpet studded with mystical miracles at your feet. In a blatant display of showoffery, they are so IN YOUR FACE that as whacked out and pissed off as you’ve become – you still see them.

So, I’m a wackjob on my way to work a jewelry show, and I stop at a drugstore on my route to get my favorite gum at the time, Carefree peppermint. It came in a hurt your eyes, bright yellow package, with twenty four delicious sticks of yumminess that you’d pull out from the top. It was one of the few things that made me happy, so of course the drugstore was out of it. Nothing else appealed to me, so I left – gum less and grumpy.

As I pulled onto LaCienega and waited at the light across from the Beverly Center, I could hear the radio in the car to the left of me, even with my windows up, blaring the Rod Stewart song “Have I Told You Lately That I Love You.”
As I shot the two young men with the questionable musical taste, my best exasperated, too cool for school, are you f-ing kidding me, stink eye; the one closest, motioned for me to roll down my window.
Did I mention that they looked like angels? GQ model angels, with big white toothed smiles? But since it was West Hollywood I just assumed they were gay and going to ask for directions.

I rolled down my window at the longest red light in history, and the beautiful model/angel reached out to hand me something. I know I made a WTF face as I pulled my whole body to the left to be able to reach my arm far enough to take what he was so intent on giving me.

It had a bright yellow wrapper. It was a stick of my Carefree Peppermint Gum!
I kid you not.

I sat there, holding the gum, with my bottom jaw hanging in my lap, while the drivers behind me began to honk, as the light had been green for a second already, and they were very important and I was making them late. 

The two smiley guys were up ahead, the Rod Stewart song still hanging in the hair like cheap perfume.

If you know that section of LaCienega heading south, you know there are several lights in quick secession that are synced up in such a way that they are perpetually red.
It’s a joke, but not the funny kind, and if I hadn’t been on my gum quest I would have avoided it at all costs.

So in less than a minute I am again stopped next to my new best friends, who are still smiling, Rod is still singing, and I’m composed enough to mouth Thank You while holding up the gum.
We did that for three lights until they finally turned left. Either the song had finished or they were embarrassed that they had given me their last piece of gum.

Okay, so I knew that was weird. I’m not even sure I told anyone. I had turned so dark and odd at that point, dressing all in black with pennies in my shoes, that I don’t think anyone was taking anything I said seriously anyway.

Here’s the kicker.
When I got back to the shop after doing the show in Santa Monica for three days, I went about my usual mindless tasks, one of them being to check the answer machine.
Yes, early ninties, remember? Cell phones were the size and weight of bricks. We all had answer machines, and the one that day at work told me it was full.

73 messages.
Jeez.
Okay.
Press Play.

Have I told you lately that I love you?
Have I told you there’s no one else above you?
Fill my heart with gladness
Take away all my sadness
Ease my troubles that’s what you do

Yep. Rod Stewart, THAT song, every message until the tape ran out.

Explain that away.

I guess I just needed minty fresh breath and to hear that I was loved, and BOY did I!
Xox

Tell me the story of your miracle!

Xox

Here’s the audio if that’s what you prefer.
https://soundcloud.com/jbertolus/rod-stewart-carefree

Check your thermometers and change your vacation plans because,
HELL HAS JUST FROZEN OVER.

That is a picture of a GUN in my hand.

Don’t get your panties in a bunch now, relax, I’ll explain.

This morning my expert in all things gun related, paid me an early visit; while I still had both courage and coffee running through my veins.

My husband you say? No way!

His lifetime allotment of patience wouldn’t be enough to allow him to tackle teaching me about weapons. Although he is an aficionado and quite a good shot, ( I framed a target from the range that one of his buddies brought me. There’s isn’t a mark on it – except for a giant hole in the middle, where he emptied his pistol) we both agreed that Ernie is up to the task at hand.

Ernie is the guard at the jewelry store I used to work at, and since he is allowed by law, to carry a concealed weapon at work, he has to stay very current and adept with his gun skills. I have always been silently grateful for that, since my life was in his hands; and I’m ashamed (only slightly) to admit to having plied him with cake, brownies and cookies to stay in his good graces – so he would save me first.

He takes everyone (my husband, his friends, my friends – everyone’s friends) to the range for practice when he goes, and is a very skilled, thoughtful and patient teacher.

I’ve never gone. I’ve always declined because I’m scared beyond all reason.

Ever since I can remember, I’ve had an irrational fear of guns. 
I can’t look at them, let alone touch one. (Check out the old dog’s face, she can’t believe what she’s seeing).

If I even catch a glimpse of Ernie’s gun it makes me cry, so he never removes his jacket; even when the air conditioning broke and it was an oven in the store.
Yes, he’s THAT nice, and yes, I’m THAT mean.
I’m telling you – it’s irrational.

When I was in line at a fast food restaurant and a couple of cops were next to me and wearing their weapons, I froze, then I started to shake and cry, and I had to run out.
I wasn’t nine, I was forty nine. That’s crazy, I know.

Since I’m in my fifties I’m all about confronting my fears.
They are imaginary after all; just the stories I keep telling myself. A gun is plastic and metal, and is only dangerous in the wrong hands, and it cannot kill me if it isn’t loaded. Still, I must be shown ten times, that there is no bullet in the chamber before I will even LOOK at it.

Let me set the record straight, I’m no fan of the second amendment.
I can’t fathom why, in the twenty first century, we need the right to bear arms. That all made perfect sense to our founding fathers because it was the 18th century, and the only thing I know for SURE about guns is that their only intended purpose is to kill.

That always makes me say: I HATE GUNS, when the more accurate statement would be: I’M SCARED OF GUNS, I HATE GUN VIOLENCE.

That being said, I find myself surrounded by men and women who take guns and that amendment very seriously. They are well trained, and practiced and I gotta tell ya, if the zombies come, I want them on my team.

Another thing I know for sure: Knowledge is Power.
At this stage of my life there aren’t a lot of things I know NOTHING about, yet, I am completely clueless where guns are concerned, which has started to make me feel…..disempowered. That does not sit well with me at this age. I want to conquer my fears. I want to know how to load and hold and fire a gun.

There. I said it.
(It still makes me shake.)

Can bungee jumping and sky diving be far behind?
Yes, yes they can. Maybe sixties for those.

So… It’s time. I’m going to pull up my big girl Annie Oakley pants and I’ve made the commitment to go with the whole gang to the range on Monday.
That’s why Ernie started the aversion therapy today.
Part two will be Thurday. I suppose what comes next will be me holding it for more than thirty seconds.

I may forget to be home Thursday.

After getting all testosteroned up at the range, they have a tradition where they all go to Hooters for lunch – because the chicken wings are so good. I swear, that’s their story.
I think the sight of boobies helps them back to balance.
I’m a good sport, so I’ll be tagging along.
I’m looking forward, no, I’m actually counting on the boobies bringing me back to balance.

I’ll let you know how this goes….

What fears are you conquering? Have you waited as long I have?
Who’s afraid of guns out there? Who hates them?
Yell at me, talk some sense into me.

Love you,
Xox

Being in my fifties, most of my friends have grown kids.
But since age is just a number and I’m  just immature enough, I have several younger  friends with very small children, kids under the age of ten.

I was talking to one of these younger moms and she asked my advise.

Not about mothering of course, since I forgot to have children, but about the level of commitment she and her girlfriends have to their kids and their spouses, and how they don’t take time for themselves.

Seems she was chatting with a friend of hers, a fellow mom, and they were joking about how clueless their sons and husbands were. That without their loving guidance they would be feral, running in packs, eating garbage and living under bridges with trolls, and that it was an all-consuming job with no time off for good behavior and no vacations.

We laughed of course, but it all sounded very familiar to me because that has been a recurring theme for most of the moms I have known.

“If it weren’t for me they wouldn’t eat, or they would live on Cheetos and Dr Pepper and be spindly and stupid from lack of proper nutrition.”

“If it weren’t for me they would wear the same filthy clothes, brush their teeth once a month when they showered (or fell into some water and called that a bath) and their ears, fingernails and feet would be caked black with dirt and their lice would have lice.”

“If it weren’t for me they wouldn’t have one manner, as a matter of fact, they probably wouldn’t have much of a grasp of proper English, or any social graces whatsoever. They would grunt while never looking up from their phone, iPad or computer. They would be complete social misfits.”

In a nutshell, if it weren’t for the tireless sacrifices, commitment and love to these guys (and girls) they would be just shells of their current magnificent selves.
They would have NEVER made the team, passed fourth grade, gotten that big job, done a speck of homework, learned music, gotten braces, written that speech, etc, ect , ect.

It’s okay if it’s a two-way street – but let’s get real here – it can be very one-sided.

So I listened, and laughed and then got tough with her – because I love her – and she asked.

“That’s all ego talking. You have to justify all that time and energy so you tell yourself basically, they’d be nothing without you.”

Is any of that true? Probably not. As a gross generalization, woman DO tend to bring out the best in men. And children. And small animals. And other women too.

I explained to her the oxygen mask theory. It’s amazing actually.
The airlines have to tell you that in the case of cabin depressurization, it is imperative to put the oxygen mask on yourself FIRST and then your child (hopefully your husband can put on his own or you have bigger problems than you think.)
They give you permission to go first; which seems completely counterintuitive to mothers –– so they have to be reminded.

“You and your girlfriend have to put you oxygen masks on first, otherwise you’re no good to anyone.”

Then a thought entered my mind like a lightening bolt. I got chills it was so profound. It was Divine Guidance. I certainly didn’t come up with it, it was too good.

“Oh Jeez, hey, I just got this.
If you really believe what you’re saying, who would YOU be if you had devoted the same time, energy, commitment, sacrifice and LOVE to yourself, that you have put into your family all these years?”

Then we both teared up.
Holy shit that’s big.

If you’re devoted to making everyone around you great, when is it your turn?

A ton of woman do it when they become empty nesters, but why wait?

This doesn’t apply to only kids and family.
I did it with my boss and my job, until I wised up, woke up, and set boundaries.
We make their lives easier, smoother, more fun and better, while we lose sleep at night.

I think it’s time for the oxygen mask first thinking to prevail, and taking the time to figure out how to make our own lives become great too.

Are you with me?

Can you relate to this kind of sacrifice and commitment to family? Have you found a balance? Let’s hear it in the comments.

Big love to the moms out there,
Xox

Between the violence in the Middle East, the weird weather, several plane crashes and Ebola coming to the states, this could go down in our collective memories as The Bummer Summer.

People are jittery.

Everyone I know is walking around with at least a mild case of malaise.

As someone who has been labeled an “energy uplifter” by several teachers through the years, (more commonly known as a Pollyanna) I will do my best to remind you that many experts, including Steven Pinker, have the statistics to prove that the world is the least violent and dangerous now, than it has EVER been in recorded history. That seems hard to believe, I know.

“As one becomes aware of the historical decline of violence, the world begins to look different. The past seems less innocent, the present less sinister. One starts to appreciate the small gifts of coexistence that would have seemed utopian to our ancestors: the interracial family playing in the park, the comedian who lands a zinger on the commander in chief, the countries that quietly back away from a crisis instead of escalating to war.

For all the tribulations in our lives, for all the troubles that remain in the world, the decline of violence is an accomplishment that we can savor—and an impetus to cherish the forces of civilization and enlightenment that made it possible.”
—Mr. Pinker is the Harvard College Professor of Psychology at Harvard University. Excerpt from his book, “The Better Angels of Our Nature: Why Violence Has Declined,” published by Viking.

Let’s all get a grip, shall we? We’re safer than we’ve ever been.
Like the above graphic says, 50 thousand planes landed safely, 7 billion people lived today.

So why is it, you ask, that things in the world feel as if they have gotten worse and we all feel anxious and poopy about it?

I blame the news, whose aim it seems, is to scare the bejeezus out of us between the weather, pop gossip and traffic reports.
If you can step back and gather your wits, it’s almost comical. I’ve laugh snorted coffee out of my nose while watching the first half hour of GMA more in the last three months than I can ever remember. Maybe that’s just me.

This Ebola coverage is crazy. It plays like an SNL parody of those pandemic movies, with the doctors in hazmat suits catching the damn thing SOMEHOW, and then the bright idea of an airplane transporting the Americans back here, to the states to see if we can save them…..
(Cue cheesy music)
I’ve seen the movie, I know how this ends.

Shit.

(The Universe with her wicked sense of humor, has just seen to it that for dramatic effect as I write this, we have just been issued a Flash Flood Warning – in Los Angeles. WTF? Can’t it just rain?)
I received this alert on the TV, radio and that other culprit, the inter web, simultaneously.

The internet also alerted me this morning to the fact that there was a pretty severe earthquake today in China. I have a CNN app that makes sure I know when anything happens – the minute it happens – anywhere In. The. World.
I can be reading or writing on my iPad; feeling Sunday unplugged, and WHAMO, there’s a chime and something awful comes up on the screen to get my attention.

Some things I just don’t want or need to know, but I don’t seem to have a choice anymore.

I don’t know how to disable these alerts without deleting the app, but I’m thinking that’s my next step if I want any piece of mind at all.

I’m advocating a collective dismantling of the fear machine AKA the media in our lives and the quickest way to do that for yourself is to stay as far away from the news as possible….and read real books if you REALLY want to be unplugged.

Plane travel is safe, people are alive and Ebola, well, Ebola is in Atlanta for now.

Ommmmmmmmmmmmmm….

Let’s get our peace of mind and our summer back.

Now who do I talk to about this weather?

Love you more,
Xox

We’ve all been there.

We have the practical knowledge coupled with the willingness, which is a tough thing to gather together at the same time really. We usually only have one or the other at any given moment.

We are ready to tackle – for good – a situation, relationship or problem that we’ve been chewing on for awhile.

Conquer. We are going to conquer it. For good this time.

We are ready to transmute it and send it back from whence it came.

So……what were we supposed to say?

How were things supposed to be handled?

What was that opening line that was going to finally start the conversation?

Oh shit. We’ve lost our nerve.

We’re not ready.

This will NEVER work.

We can’t do this.

Now We’re stuck.

Here’s a great tool that will help you become un-stuck.
My friends and I have become obsessed with it, it’s THAT good.
It’s a chant to Ganesh, the Hindu elephant God, the remover of obstacles; done beautifully by Deva Premal.

http://youtu.be/OTFWfD7L5QA

One of my friends had a sticky situation with an old friend, we chanted as a group, she downloaded it and chanted everyday, and in less than a week the situation had resolved….itself.
Favorably.
That’s some pretty good stuff.

Don’t say you don’t have the time. You do.

Don’t say you don’t like chants. This one’s gorgeous – and effective.

Don’t stay stuck.

Go ahead, unburden yourself – start the weekend with a chant.

You’re welcome. 😉

*Thank you Danielle LaPorte for turning me on to this.
DanielleLaPorte.com

Xox