guidance

I LOVE This. Amen sister, Amen. Happy Sunday fellow juicy, creative, life liver’s 😉

Xox

We both noticed it. My husband and I.

There was one lonely sheet of double ply Brawny paper towel on the butcher block in the center of the kitchen, when we got up this morning.
I thought it was left over from some boxer-shark puppy calamity that he’d cleaned up, and I’m sure he thought the same.

Neither was true.

It just laid there, like a blank slate, ready for a mess.

Five minutes later when he was bringing me my coffee, (cue the sappy music and the Husband of the Year Award) it sloshed up and over the side of the cup, leaving a little trail to the TV room, where I sit in the morning, posting this blog.
Now the handy dandy paper towel that was nearby, primed and ready, waiting for a spill, was finally put to use.

Often, the Universe leaves us clues of what’s to come.

The other day, I noticed a rogue Band Aid on the bathroom counter. 
Hmmmmm. How’d THAT get there?
It came in handy when my groovy shoes gave me blisters from hell later that afternoon.

I love the concept that the Universe, like a helicopter parent, is waiting there with a Kleenex before we even sneeze.

I, for one, welcome the help.

I can think of SO many of these. Can you?

You’ve probably never tried.

Do it! 
It’s fun. Close your eyes and think a minute about the little clues that you’ve received, out of the blue.
When has the Universe placed something right in your path that was exactly what you needed. You probably won’t have to think long, these things tend to make an impression.

Tell me, I’d love to hear your story!

Xox

SURRENDER
sur·ren·der
səˈrendər/
(verb)
1. cease resistance to an enemy or opponent and submit to their authority.
synonyms: capitulate, give in, give (oneself) up, give way, yield, concede
(defeat), submit, climb down, back down, cave in, relent, crumble

1. give up or hand over (a person, right, or possession), typically on compulsion or demand.

“Always seek less turbulent skies.
Hurt. Fly above it.
Betrayal. Fly above it.
Anger. Fly above it.
You are the one who is flying the plane.”
― Marianne Williamson

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been known to continue to fly straight into the most turbulent sky’s.
Seat backs upright, tray tables locked in their upright position, death grip on the wheel, bleary eyes staring straight ahead.
The freakin’ FASTEN YOUR SEAT BELTS sign mocking me with its continuous, blaring red gaze.

Bumpy………Choppy……..Shit…………………Shit!

There I’d remain, resolute; until exhaustion set in, or whiplash, or both, and I would be forced to surrender the wheel.

Then, a force greater than myself, would steer my plane toward smooth horizons.

I wrote the other day about letting go of the wheel, and that really resonated with many of you. Letting the Muse or the Universe take over the accomplishment of all our endeavors. People wept with relief. Just the thought of it brought tears to their eyes.

But you can’t just throw your hands up, and put the plane on auto pilot.

Auto pilot to me; is just more of the same.
Super safe. It doesn’t rise, it doesn’t dive, it goes full steam ahead.
No change of course.

So here’s the deal. You have to take it a step further and SURRENDER the wheel.

I always HATED the word surrender. To me, it meant giving up.

Running that white flag up the pole to signal to everyone that you’ve just conceded the fight…..cause…..relationship….job….whatever.

It signified weakness.

I could not have been more wrong. Did you hear me? That’s WRONG.

“When we surrender to God, the Universe, Source, we surrender to something bigger than ourselves – to a Universe that knows what it’s doing.
When we stop trying to control events, they fall into a natural order, an order that works. We’re at rest while a power much greater than our own takes over, and it does a much better job than we could have done. We learn to trust that the power that holds galaxies together can handle the circumstances of our relatively little lives.”
~Marianne Williamson

It takes a great deal of courage to surrender. It is the opposite of cowardice.

It does not mean you’re giving away your power, on the contrary, you are powerful enough to realize that you may not have ALL the answers.
All the most powerful, accomplished people in the world are surrounded by a TEAM. When they’ve exhausted all their options, they make a calculated decision. They are deeply invested, they pay attention, BUT, they let the experts drive.

The experts are sent by the Universe.

Here’s a little secret. You know how my store was a causality of a freak urban flood?
Earlier that day, completely worn out and emotionally exhausted from fighting the good fight of trying to keep my store afloat financially, I sat in meditation and literally said: “I surrender. You take it,” over and over, picturing my arms up in the air, above my head, like the robber emerging after the bank heist.

I gave in. I yelled “Uncle.”

The next day, when I woke up……..the store was just a soggy memory. Gone. Finished.
Um, thanks?

My courage had to catch up with my request, because it wasn’t at ALLLLLL what I was expecting. But that’s how the Universe rolls.

“Surrender means, by definition, giving up attachment to results. When we surrender to God, we let go of our attachment to how things happen on the outside and we become more concerned with what happens on the inside.”
~Marianne Williamson

They’ll be times when you can’t guide your own plane to clear sky’s.
You just can’t for life of you find any.

Pry your hands off the wheel, put your seat back, disengage the auto-pilot, relax and SURRENDER the entire situation to the Universe.

Then ring for the flight attendant to bring you a cocktail.

What needed surrendering in your life TODAY? Have you had success with surrender in the past? I’d LOVE to hear about it?

Xox

Even though my neck is developing a waddle, my arms are jiggly, and my bra size is a 36 long, I’m FAR from dead.

I feel great, look pretty darn good for my age, and I want to just give life a big slap on the ass for providing such incomparable entertainment, (because we all came here to be entertained, right?)

Here’s to fifty and beyond!

1) No more zits. That’s huge for me. I literally had chin acne up until five minutes ago.

2) More free time because of reduced mirror time.
I can’t really see anymore but I’ve decided that using the magnifying mirror is masochistic, so, if I have an occasional chin hair or stray lipstick creeping into the creases above my lip line, cut me some slack.
While I used to relish getting ready in the morning, these days the routine ends with me throwing my arms up saying: “Okay, f*ck it! This is as good as it gets.”

3) My BS meter is finely tuned,
I can smell a “phony baloney story” a mile away.

4) I BE WISE.
Not necessarily smart, more like crafty and clever.
I may not have a ton of what some would call common sense, or be very tech savvy,
but I have a keen street sense. In other words, “I be wise in the ways of the world.“

5) People expect less of me because my hair is gray and I often wear more sensible shoes (idiots) so when I get off the back of the motorcycle or I’m funny or say something current, they’re like, “Damn!”

6) My bucket list is getting shorter —and it seems suddenly attainable. Bo Shizzle!

7) I have felt all different kinds of love (except for a child…next life.)
But I DO know the difference between dog love and cat love, teenage crush, misguided 20 something love, sibling love, infatuation (not to be confused with love), lust (also not to be mistaken, under ANY circumstances for love), “I love you, but I’m not in love with you, love”, platonic love, love of country (don’t wince, travel; then come talk to me) And last but certainly not least—Self-love.

8) I give less F*cks.
I have so few left, why waste them? My inhibitions are almost non-existent. I offer my opinion, I don’t shy away from conflict, I’ll sing first at karaoke night and I’ll dance in Greek restaurants.
There’s not much that scares me anymore, much to the horror of my introverted spouse.

9) I stopped asking why. It was just SO exhausting. I wish I’d stopped decades ago.

10) I realize that I may have more years behind me than in front of me, and that doesn’t make me sad (most days)—on the contrary, it mobilizes me.
Listen, times a-wastin’!

Okay, you over fiftys! What can you add?
If you haven’t reached fifty yet, what are you looking forward to?

Xox

*Nope, that’s not an anaconda, that’s just a small portion of the root ball that came out of the drain….damn.

We’ve had a drain blockage in the backyard for…….ever.

It worked like a charm for the first seven years and then these last three years it’s been slowwwwwwwwing down, until this past month, when I did my spring power wash,(which I love to do, BTW, I love instant gratification!) the water never drained.
It just collected and sat there like a little lagoon.
It created its own Eco-system. Wildlife started to gather at dusk and dawn.

Never one to put the kabosh on the yard self-landscaping, ( it often has better ideas that any of us), a lagoon so close to the bar-b-que was less than desirable.
And we needed a functioning drain on the patio.

At the same time the guys were working on clearing and re-routing the drain today, the cable guy showed up.

It was a miracle of sorts, because the wait time window was reasonable, (11-12) and he actually showed up inside that window.

Our cable signal gets wonky every year and a half or so, because the squirrels decide to chew, floss and jump rope with our Time Warner cable line.
So up the pole the cable guy goes, to splice and dice the line, and leave a cease and desist notice for the squirrels.

The astrology lately has been about re-visiting blockages and seeking clarity.

I know it to be true, because Tosha Silver says it’s so, along with a thousand others.

So….(wiping hands together) done, and done!

We killed two birds with one stone today.
Well, it may have been two stones, and no birds died today, although I did have my eye on some squirrels…..but you get the picture.

We cleared the signal AND the blockage.

As above; so below.

Metaphorically speaking; I feel SO much better.

*I must admit; I do miss the lagoon.

Have you recently cleared something up that’s been blocked? Have you noticed a difference in how you feel?
I’d LOVE to hear about it.

Xox

If it sounds like writing…rewrite it
~Elmore Leonard~

We all come in with a purpose.

But because we’ve forgotten to remember, we spend the majority of our lives searching for it.
Unless you’re incredibly lucky and come in as a child prodigy….or angry cat.

Once we make our connection with God, the Muse, Source, or whatever you want to call it, our ONLY job is to remain a clear and unbiased vessel.

When we do finally connect with our purpose, it becomes more than a job.
It becomes a calling.
All we need to do is enthusiastically show up every day.

The purpose itself will create opportunities for its accomplishment.

What?

You mean I’m not the only one who controls how this work gets out in the world?

I feel solely responsible for what happens to anything I create, after the initial process is finished.
I want to write the pitch, I want to orchestrate the meeting, I want to call the shots with every i dotted and every t crossed…..by me.

Yet, if we can trust the Muse to co-create our purpose, can’t we trust her to place it just where it needs to go?

She’s got a much broader vision than we’ll ever have, and her contacts are legendary. Back in the day of Rolodex’s, she had fifty of them lined up, side by side, crammed with every mover and shaker across the planet.

Nothing escapes her radar.

Her ideas have ideas.

We have thoughtfully and tenderly brought her masterpiece to third dimension; she’ll take care of the rest.

If we muck up the trajectory SHE has in mind with our ideas of how WE think it should play out…..crickets.

Here is the story of J K Rowling’s (if you’ve been living under a rock, she is the author of the Harry Potter series of books) rise to fame.

After being rejected twelve times by every major publishing company, one of the manuscripts found its way into a pile on an office shelf. End of story, right?

It could have been. It should have been.

What happened next could have come with a swish of Harry Potter’s wand.
(Muse magic?)

In the spring of 1997, struggling English producer David Heyman’s secretary, Nisha Parti, picked up a manuscript from the shelf marked ‘low priority’.
Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone was yet to be published. She took it home to read over the weekend.
Monday morning they had their meeting and David asked if anyone had read anything good. Nisha said, “Well I’ve read this book, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.”
“That’s a rubbish title,” he said. What’s it about?”
She said, “It’s about a young boy who goes to wizard school.”
Intrigued, he took it home and read it in one night.
And the rest is history.

So…..
What if J K Rowling had stopped after three rejections, or seven, or ten?

We have no idea which manuscript ended up on the low priority list in that producer’s office.

What if she had listened to the criticism that boys don’t read books?

What made his secretary pick THAT manuscript to read? Who marked it low priority, so that it ended up in her pile?

What if she’d released them as short stories, because people were telling her the books were too long and wordy?

What if she was against film adaptation? Some authors are.

Someone came up with the release date parties held at midnight in bookstores across the globe. They created a marketing frenzy. That was a completely new concept in book publishing/marketing at the time. Whose idea was THAT?
(That has the Muse’s fingerprints ALL over it.)

What if she’d wanted a more well-known producer, or more money?
The list goes on and on.
I think you get the gist.

I really love the concept that all we have to do is sing, write, paint, create; then listen for instructions on what comes next and not have to drive ourselves nuts figuring out the rest.
You get that we can’t possibly know what comes next, right?

Finish your work. Say a prayer. Let go of the wheel.

Let the source that wrote the screenplay, line up the appropriate people, and then pitch it.
She’ll tell us what day and what to say. She’s proud of her work, that Muse, and so naturally she’d love it to get as popular and touch as many people as possible.
Doesn’t that make sense?

Due diligence, yes. Thinking we have all the answers, no.

The purpose itself will create opportunities for its Accomplishment

It’s worth repeating.

Do you have projects you need to let go of and trust the process? I’d love to hear some stories of how the Muse took a project where it needed to go.
Tell me in the comments!

Xox

Prayer To The Muse
Give the act to me.
Purged of hope and ego,
Fix your attention on the soul.
Act and do for me.”

Excerpt From: Steven Pressfield & Shawn Coyne. “The War of Art.” Visionary Press, 2012.

The Muse and I were sitting around the other day chatting, as we do. She with an air of gin, tonic and attitude; and me, always in awe of her beauty and general badassery.

I was questioning her about all aspects of the writing process, publishing in particular, of which she is extremely knowledgeable.

She is the Muse, after all.

As the conversation zig and zagged over the various ways to get published, she shook her head. “There’s no excuse these days, for an author not to get their work out in the world to be read.”

“So all of us, the writers of the world, together with our Muses, we just write what we love, and send it, like our precious baby, out into the world? I asked “What intention should we give it as we send it on its way? To touch people? To help people? To make money? To be a best seller?”

I couldn’t tell by the way she slowly turned to face me, with a kind of half smirk, whether her answer was going to be kind, or I was gonna get a smack down.

She started to laugh.
The Muse has a laugh like the throaty purr of a Maserati. Deep and sexy.
The result of age, too many late nights, strong drinks and cigarettes.

“I only write best sellers, my darling” she purred with her usual lack of humility.

“That’s all I’m capable of. I only paint masterpieces. I only write musical compositions that bring grown men to tears. It’s all I know how to do.”

Now I was shaking my head, but she continued.

“As the Muse, I am Divine Inspiration at the highest level, sending my masterpiece through you, the vessel.”

Now I was leaning in; listening intently, she could sense my interest, so she took a long drag on her cigarette to keep me in suspense.

“I’m incapable of writing a boring book or a piece of shit movie.” She threw her head back, smoke billowing from her nostrils.
“That’s YOUR contribution.” She was laughing again.

“The clearer the vessel, the clearer the translation of my work. If you start to question it, or edit it, or doubt it, well, darling, you’re being an idiot.”
I laughed.

“If you can’t recognize a masterpiece when you see it or read it, or you somehow think you can do it better,” she shifted in her chair, “you’ll compromise the material.
It will become mediocre….or suck altogether.”

That was a big AhHa for me.

What she was saying was this: that no matter what your talent is, no matter what ideas you have, we are ALL capable of greatness; it’s wholly dependent on the clarity of our connection to the Muse. No one is more talented, they are just better connected.
Steve Jobs, I’m going to venture to guess, kept his nose out of her business.

He just let it flow.

I get it. I get it!

“Our relationship is very complicated, my darling. Everyday I’m taking a chance that you will trust me enough to write my words the way I say them or paint my vision, using the colors I choose. I hear your prayer and I get ready to work. All you have to do is trust and stay clear of fear, doubt, and judgement.”

“Oh is THAT all.” I replied, sarcastically.

“My job as the Muse is to pick the correct vessel.”
She got to her feet for emphasis, turned and winked.
“It is how all the great works of humanity; of architecture, and the arts have been created. I believe it to be a good system.”

So do I.
I’d be an idiot to disagree with the Muse.

Xox

This is a reprise of a popular post from earlier this year. It’s a cautionary tale in the form of a poem, about that rascal Ego. Have a great Sunday!

XoxJanet

When Ego whispers in your ear,
“Psssst buddy, come on over here.”
Quick; turn and run the other way,
’cause he’s got nothing good to say.

He’s not a chum, he’s not your friend,
His words won’t have a happy end.
He’s only got himself in mind,
A more selfish dude you’ll never find.

What ego thinks is a good idea,
Will fill you later with dread and fear.
You don’t want hear what he has to say,
Just tell him nice, to go away

The Ego has a strangle hold,
on those who do what they are told.
He has sold his bill of goods,
by selling “wants” and “needs” and “shoulds”.

It just won’t play, it won’t suffice,
when heeding Ego’s bad advise.
To say you’re “feeling” anything,
To this bad guy, the head is king.

His dictums are complex and sly,
You must beware if you comply,
he’ll lead you down the garden path,
then laugh as you suffer bad choice’s wrath.

He has an agenda all his own,
his methods are proven, his skills well honed.
You needn’t curse, don’t waste a good cry,
he’s doesn’t care, he’s not that guy.

You can try to beat him at his game,
Living with soul can end his reign.
It won’t seem fair,
He isn’t nice, plus….

The Ego gives really shitty advise.

Sometimes, in this wonderfully bumpy journey called life; it isn’t enough to inhabit our own skin.
Or rather, it’s too much.

We need some help.

Help keeping our faith. Help pushing our worn out, sad, beat up butts back on the playing field. What we need is assistance from the greats that came before us, whose battle weary eyes have seen everything.

They know stuff. They be wise.

Maybe it was a favorite teacher that you admired or perhaps it was your grandfather, who took you under his wing. Firm but fair.

If they were in a jam- what would they do?

You could turn to them for guidance, perhaps, even for a brief moment, inhabit their skin, standing taller and looking at the situation with their accrued strength, wisdom and grace.

At the Wednesday women’s group, our conversation led to the passing, that day, of Maya Angelou. We were all deeply affected. More than we would have expected. It just felt to us, that Maya Angelou would always share the planet with us….breathe the same air.

It’s been a weepy kind of week, so with her loss, the tears that welled up felt justified in their appearance. Much more so than all the other mundane shit we’d all been crying about. 

Some of us had read her books, others were just familiar with her poetry.
What we all agreed on, was her stature as she walked through this amazing life.
Not only the fact that she was six feet tall; but her grace and dignity, her sense of humor, her courage and most of all; her God-damn gravitas.

I’m sure her BS detector was especially fine tuned.
She didn’t suffer fools and I bet she didn’t take ANY shit….from ANYBODY.

I’m talkin’ to you, Oprah.

Sure, she made mistakes, but she learned, wrote about them, and was the better for it.

We all decided that when life threw us a curveball, or when we were in an emotional tornado, and needed to feel empowered; we’d ask ourselves: 
What Would Maya Do?

It made us laugh-and then we got quiet.
I think it’s now our secret password.
Shhhhhhhhhh. Don’t tell anyone.

I have a small collection of rose quartz hearts from our winter solstice meditations, so this morning, I decided to write What Would Maya Do? on one side and her quote “I Am Enough” on the other.
I’m going to give them to my women to carry around as a reminder, you know, in case they forget the password. It looks like the marker is going to wear off immediately. Maybe reaching into a pocket and feeling that little heart shaped stone will be enough to remember.

Nope.

She wouldn’t fuck around.

I have to find a more permanent marker that stays on stone.
I know that’s what Maya would do.

Who do you have as your “go to” person? Who would you ask?

Xox

Try This!

I did lots of crazy shit back in the day.
I held crystal classes at my house and Sunday’s, once a month at my duplex I’d have someone in each room with a different spiritual expertise. You could get your tarot cards read, a reiki treatment, or an astrology reading.
Some people got the whole shebang.

It was pot luck, with an old bookshelf in the living room that held all of my self-help and spiritual books. Hundreds of them. Remember, I’m a seeker.

The agreement was: you could take one if you brought one to trade, although I never held anyone to it if they REALLY wanted a book, without the trade.
Bad karma.

One of the many hundreds of classes and seminars I took was a left hand writing class to help develop intuition.

Here’s a simple, fun, and effective exercise to try:

With your dominant hand, write out the this phrase on a piece of paper ( no typing allowed)

If I were an animal, what animal would I be?

Close your eyes for a sec, take a breath, and write your answer with the same hand.

Now put the pen the other, non-dominant hand, look at the question, close your eyes again for a few seconds and scrawl your answer with your two and half-year old writing. Don’t worry about it, very few people can write legibly with both hands.

I bet the answers are different.

Your dominant hand (doesn’t matter if it’s right or left) is tied to the rational, everyday mind. The one that helps you function in the world. It keeps you “normal” and preserves the status quo.

Most people write down horse, dog or cat. That’s okay. These animal have qualities to which you aspire. How you would like to see yourself in the world.

Your non-dominant hand is so much more interesting.
It gets in touch with your intuitive, creative subconscious. We don’t ask it to speak up very often, if at all, so it can get pretty chatty if you let it. But for the purpose of this exercise, keep focused on the question.

The answer from your non-dominant hand is how your REALLY see yourself. The character traits you truly process.

With my right hand I wrote: cat. Aloof, finicky, regal.
That’s what I aspire to.

With my left hand I got spider. (What!?) makes a beautiful environment wherever it goes, creative, lives on the FLY (badam bum).

I LOVE this answer. It’s so much more ME.

What did I tell ya? Much more interesting.

This was the gateway exercise from the course I took to help me access my intuition. I started asking questions like a madman. I was obsessed.

You should try it. Ask: What do I need to know? Or
What should I do about ______?

Anything really.

Like I said, although it’s tough to read at times, it can be pretty chatty, funny and sometimes it rhymes.

Try the animal exercise first. Then tell me what you got.
I’d love to hear about it!
No judging, I promise.

Xox