“The most common ego identifications have to do with possessions, the work you do, social status and recognition, knowledge and education, physical appearance, special abilities, relationships, personal and family history, belief systems, and often political, nationalistic, racial, religious, and other collective identifications. None of these is you.”
– Eckhart Tolle
Seriously, one of the greatest gifts you can give another
is the gift of being a good listener.
And it really is a gift.
The gift of finishing a train of thought, or story,
or a painful realization…without interruption.
You know those shows on TV where all the women on the panel
talk over each other,
Hate that!
We all do it, we all kind of half listen when someone is talking,
because the other half of our brain is thinking of a clever
response or a story that applies to what’s being said.
Here’s how it goes:
“We had the best dinner last night, it was at…
“I’ve been to that place too! Isn’t the kale salad to die for,
what about his other place downtown, it’s supposed to be better,
by the way, don’t park anywhere near that place, so and so
got their car broken into, they stole his iPhone, hey speaking of iPhones,
did you do the latest update, mine crashed, I had to take it to the Genius
Bar, and news flash, the guy was super cute, but not a genius, it took a half hour,
so I went next door to Nordstrom’s and looked at shoes”.
Ugh!!
Since it’s a universal truth that everyone just wants to be seen and heard,
I’d like to give the gift of becoming a better listener.
When a friend is talking about an awesome meal they had,
or a trip they just took, or why they think thigh high leather boots
is a look they can pull off,
I’m going to do my damnedest, to keep my mouth shut and listen.
My silence will not imply that I agree with the boot debacle,
because I most certainly DO NOT.
It will be me, listening without interruption, so that they can
finish a complete thought or story, and come to the conclusion
themselves,
that that ship has sailed…
there will be no thigh high boots in their future.
I hope by my example they will extend me the same courtesy,
keeping their feedback and laughter at bay, until I’m finished.
This could be a hard one,
I’ll let you know how it goes.
XoxJanet
Avatar
av·a·tar
ˈavəˌtär/
noun
1.
HINDUISM
a manifestation of a deity or released soul in bodily form on earth; an incarnate divine teacher.
I met my husband when he was 47 and I was 43.
To say I kissed a lot of frogs along the way is an understatement!
Since he’s French, there’s also a certain irony there.
On paper I looked uber normal.
I had a great job,
a house,
a relatively “normal” family,
lots of good friends,
And two Siamese cats, Fraidy & Teddy.
But as you all know by now, I had my dark, hidden secret.
I was a closeted seeker.
I was devoutly spiritual.
I did yoga,
I meditated twice a day,
I could have been a monk.
Well, except for the red lipstick and nail polish…oh, and the sex.
Anyway…
I’m pretty sure I blurted it all out on one of our early dates,
after a glass of wine,
half expecting him to excuse himself,
saying he was ” going to the restroom”
only to discover he had made a run for it!
But he didn’t.
It ends up he was a seeker as well, having worked with
a Peruvian shaman along the way, so I should have seen this coming.
For years I had sought the counsel of a channel,
a friend who had the ability to channel beings of higher wisdom.
So I invited her/them over to “meet” my new husband.
I’m not exactly sure what I expected, but what they did
was to completely ignore me,
and practically fall all over themselves,
calling him “Great Avatar”!
Then they explained that I am the “consort” to this great being.
What!??!
Like the Cleopatra to his Marc Anthony?
Nope.
More like the Robin to his Batman.
The Kato to his Green Hornet.
The Heckle to his Jeckle.
Well, not exactly.
He is my teacher.
I am grasshopper.
It just happened for the gazillionth time on Christmas Eve day.
He told me the story that night, on our way to dinner.
He is a typical man in the sense that he waits until
3pm on the 24th to start his shopping.
So…he’s navigating an overcrowded parking lot,
and he’s hungry.
You get the picture.
He finally sees a car ready to pull out of a space,
so he positions himself, left blinker on,
And waits…and waits…while the person sloooooowy backs out.
Meanwhile, on the other side of them is a little pickup truck
that has the same idea.
My husband sees what’s up, and aggressively blocks the spot with his
black Porsche, and then pulls in.
(Don’t judge, just because it’s a Porsche and a pickup truck, just don’t)!
As the pickup truck drives off, he makes eye contact, and flips my husband the middle finger.
That stuff rolls off my husband…he’s French, remember?
But it’s Christmas Eve for cryin out loud!
He walks in to get a quick burger, and realizes while he’s eating,
that middle finger, pickup truck guy is eating with some friends a few tables over.
So he gets out a pen and writes a note on a napkin.
He then attaches $20 and hands it to the waitress to deliver to the guy,
And leaves.
The notes says:
Even though you flipped me the bird,
It’s Christmas Eve.
your lunch is on me.
The black Porsche.
As he glanced back, while walking away, he sees the guy showing the note to his buddies and
looking around the cafe.
He’s my hero.
He’s my teacher
He really is an Avatar.
It is an honor to be his consort.
XoxJanet
It seems that the energy these last few days is powerfully fast,
and like an avalanche, it is taking us, and everything in its path,
and is carrying it along with it,
as it races toward the end of the year.
But it seems my race to that imaginary finish line of 2014
is strewn with all the different ways my body is choosing to keep up.
Some days it feels like I’m wearing ice skates,
everything feels very slippery,
people, situations,
and it’s hard to keep my balance.
I’m careening toward the New Year on 1/4 inch blades,
arms flailing, weak ankles turned in, with no triple Lutz in sight.
Other days I’m back as a ten year old,
Only I’m not, I’m 55, and it’s the Fourth of July,
and we’re having those races across the lawn,
with our shoelaces tied together…
Or balancing an egg on a teaspoon.
It is as impossible now as it was then,
only then, we laughed our heads off as we fell on our faces,
because we were racing toward ice cream.
Oh, to be 10 again.
The other night I wrote about racing like a demon in an ATV.
Now that’s more like it!
How about a catapult?
or sliding into home plate after running all the bases?
It feels like by the 31st it’s going to be a sprint,
but because I have blisters from wearing heels this week,
(They are beautiful,yet cruel)
I might have to limp across the line…does that count?
Can I be like the courageous athlete who runs the good race only to
have some calamity befall them, and then literally commando crawl over the finish line?
That’s heart right?
I’ve got heart.
I’m just tired.
How is it feeling out there to you?
Xox Janet
“Put yourself into life and never lose your openness, your childish enthusiasm throughout the journey that is life, and things will come your way.”
Wow!
Here’s a perfect example of the gorgeous and wildly creative
holiday store windows around town.
As I was staring at this image, I thought
“I want one of those!, I want a pine needle dress that looks like that”!
Can you imagine the smell?!!
Divine…heavenly…Pine.
But then the infuriatingly practical side of me took over,
and I couldn’t help but notice that it would probably be very heavy
on the body,
those pine boughs can weigh a ton!
and the needles would stick you in places I can’t mention,
places pine needles were never meant to go.
So…
That pine needle dress is dangerous,unsustainable, beauty.
It’s a metaphor for what a lot of us are carrying around in our lives.
The burdens we will bear, so that beauty is what we present to the outside world.
In LA a lot of people have beautiful, expensive cars.
They have chosen to live in a one room apartment,
with furniture left over from college, in order to afford the payments.
It is a barely sustainable beauty they choose to present to the world.
I know women who are deeply in debt in order to always have the
latest designer handbag, shoes and clothes.
Every day they wear more than my fathers first house cost on their bodies.
They only eat gum, coffee and cigarettes in order to fit the samples,
and afford their charade.
It is a dangerous, heavy burden they bear in order to look beautiful to the world.
Don’t even get me started on plastic surgery!
There are some girls, yes, girls, who never take a vacation,
they never see the world, in order to save for their next procedure.
When we are willing to sacrifice our quality of life,
to wear that heavy, prickly, pine needle dress,
that vision of beauty,
that is dangerously unsustainable,
you get the gist,
it never turns out well.
In my imagination though, I’d still like to BORROW that dress for just one night!
Like Cinderella at the ball,
only I’d wear my Spanx and possibly sweatpants underneath
to protect myself from those pesky needles.
I’d have on flats, not heels, because I can’t be wearing a heavy dress
AND have my feet killing me!
and I’d have to remember not to stand too close to the fireplace!
“The ability to know that your perceptions are accurate has to happen without others’ validation. Intuition is not the result of diet, rituals, or wind chimes. It’s the natural consequence of having self-esteem, the greatest power you can have. With self-esteem, your life can broaden into an adventure because you can know in your gut that you can handle the unknown. And you can handle helping others without fear, which is true liberation.”
– Caroline Myss
It’s not cool to be giddy about Christmas and the holidays.
I KNOW!
I get it.
I’ve already confessed that the shopping gives me a buzz,
as do the white twinkle lights…
And the tree smell,
And the carols,
And just the general festive energy.
But I get THOSE looks from THOSE people,
the ones that want me to put a lid on my joy.
It is ridiculous, and frivolous,
And it makes them uncomfortable.
But why should I?!
Why should any of us let others dictate our happiness level.
EVER.
I get that the whole commercialization of Christmas
has gotten insanely out of hand.
Yet…
I can’t help but smile when I see whole families in those awful
Christmas sweaters,
Kids on Santa’s lap at the mall,
The gorgeous, giant tree at the Grove,
houses with lights,
there’s one at the end of our block that looks like Christmas barfed lights and reindeer all over it, and damn it, I still smile when I come around the corner!
The store windows get me too!
I have several friends who put great thought and immense creativity
in their store windows, so I know what goes into those mini masterpieces.
The ones in NY take the cake, but take a walk down LaCienega,
or Melrose, or even in (gasp) Beverly Hills.
They make my mouth drop in wonder and amazement,
Then I look next to me and there’s a little kid, with a peppermint candy stuck in his hair, holding his grandmas hand, with his mouth agape too.
I can see our reflections, and I want to burst out laughing…
Just as a pinched face lady briskly walks by, not even turning to look,
but shaking her head just the same.
REALLY lady!?
Don’t be our buzz kill!
Don’t dictate and judge our joy!
It Christmas!
Have a peppermint candy.
XoxJanet
