live your best life

I’m not one to quote the bible, but HELLO? The truth is the truth. Isn’t this where all the confusion in life stems from?

We, myself included, meditate, take walks, listen to music, do yoga, chant, and kiss our dogs, in order to line up with that Essence, that Being, that voice inside of us that is wise and kind and has our back. Our true Master.

The Captain O Captain of our ships.

Then we, and I’m definitely included here, get knocked out into left field by attempting to serve another.
Our demanding boss, our overreaching mother, our unreasonable, dissatisfied spouse, our spoiled, over indulged, checked-out children, even the guy at Target who wants us to move to another line.

The entire world is loud and full of jackassery, and I must admit it gets my attention MOST of the time.

All the petty, insignificant things have a way of making it to the top of my list and hey, listen, I’d be happy at times to ONLY SERVE TWO masters.

So, I call Bullshit!
I just have to say BACK OFF!…ENOUGH!…PEOPLE!
Get in line.
Take a number.
Single file.
I’ll listen to you one at a time, and I reserve the right to send you back to the end, until you learn to behave yourselves.

I can no longer serve two (hundred) masters. I now realize my limitations and I’m no longer ashamed. I’m actually relieved.

You see, in trying to make everyone around me happy, I wasn’t living my best life, which turned me into one crazy ass bitch, and then I was no good to anyone. Least of all myself. I began to lose my ZaZaZu which makes life no fun at all, and Janet a very, very dull girl.

Wanna hear a truth? YOU are NONE OF MY BUSINESS.

So I’m gonna disappoint a few of you. I’m takin’ to YOU Target guy.

I will NO LONGER toe the line.

I will NO LONGER sacrifice feeling good to make you happy.

I will NO LONGER take you to the park twice a day and throw the ball incessantly like one of those pitching machines, so you can just stop your whining. Once is enough. It’s not ALL about you! My existence is not about being your beck and call girl, you little bitches.
(Sorry, a little dog rage.)

But…
I WILL laugh more,
Sleep longer,
Wear comfortable shoes,
Write sassier,
Live louder,
Wear impossibly cruel, high heels,
Be a walking contradiction,
Stop apologizing,
Be mystical and believe in magic,
Drink carbonated, sugary beverages occasionally,
Be bolder,
Take chances,
Watch silly singing shows,
Say fuck whenever it strikes me,
Eat after ten,
And walk BY MYSELF once a day, without the dogs, for my own sanity and peace of mind.

I’m committed to only one Master now, and she knows what’s best for me.

How about you? You in?

Carry on,
Xox

You want to make ten million bucks? Have at it.
You want to be the next Mother Theresa? Cool.
You want to live at the top of Kilimanjaro in seclusion? That’s fine too.

We get down on ourselves for the life we want. WTH?!
It’s okay to want what you want.

Some of us feel bad for not wanting the white picket fence and 2.5 children.
Those that have it, feel bad because they should want a big job and a sexier life.
We’re all afraid that what we want is too much…….or not enough.

The people that want the house on the beach in Tulum never say it out loud, for fear of getting laughed at. “Oh sure, don’t we all!” no, not everyone. But there are some that DO have the Tulum house and the first step was being ok with wanting it.

At 27 years old, Richard Branson took his girlfriend on a weekend excursion.
He wanted to impress her. He was pretending to buy an island.
It was a perfectly remote, completely deserted tropical paradise. As part of the charade, he made a ridiculously low offer, and that was that.
Well……I’m sure he got lucky that night.
A year later the real estate agent called him with this unexpected news: “All the other offers on the island have fallen through, if you can up your offer to $125,000- you can have it.” Of course he bought it. He wanted it. He eventually developed it into his private paradise, Necker Island.
He even married her there.
That man has no shame, and I love him for it.
He knows: It’s okay to want what you want.

My husband’s mother was in her fifties when she sold everything. All her worldly possessions. Every carefully curated collection, tchotchke and piece of furniture. She condensed her life into two suitcases and moved to Europe, where she traveled extensively, living with friends in Spain, Germany and Austria. She lived very simply and very happily.
I never met her, but from all accounts she was extraordinary. She lived life on HER terms.
I think because she came to the point in her life where she believed: it’s okay to want what you want.

We can get so preoccupied with second guessing ourselves. We judge what we want our life to be as silly, or extravagant.
Too simple, or overindulgent.
Instead, we live on the default setting, where we watch our list of unacknowledged wants circle the drain.

You want to quit your job and travel?
You want to quit corporate and run a non-profit?
You want to work hard and play hard?
You want lots of kids and a big family?
You want to be a full time mother?
You want to live in a flat in London for a year?
You want to speak Italian…fluently?
You want to take a luva?

It’s okay to want what you want. OWN IT.

Do you go for what you want, or judge it? Tell me in the comments, I’d love to hear about it!

Xox

Here is my disclaimer right up front: This is a story about a very shallow girl…me, and how a list, a good friend, and some abracadabra, helped me manifest my true love.

At the point where my story begins, it’s the year 1999 and I have known Wes for about five years. We first met at the channeling group of a mutual friend.

Let me stop right here.
Wes is drop-dead gorgeous! He is a 6’3″ tall, dark, handsome, drink of water. When I first saw him at this friend’s house, I thought to myself: Okay, Spiritual practice, now you’re talkin’, because, up until that moment it had mostly been women that showed up for these things or men who still lived with their mothers.

He and I made goo-goo eyes at each other and tried not to burst out laughing at some of the questions that were asked. I know – Not my proudest moment.

We thought EVERYTHING was hilarious.
Wes is very chill about all this spiritual stuff. He doesn’t take any of it too seriously, which I love, and we had a lot in common. We had read all the same books, had a very similar spiritual practice, had the same twisted, warped sense of humor…and both loved men.

Sad, but true.
So, I was the Grace to his Will.
We loved each other madly, with no extra benefits.

After the crash and burn of yet another one of my romantic relationships, instead of saying, “I told you so” Wes suggested going to our channel friend for a session with just the two of us. He was also newly single at the time and felt we could get some good one-on-one advice, without other people asking if their dead Aunt was speaking to them through their cat.

At this session “they” suggested we each make a list of the attributes our beloved should possess, after which we should meet and give that list to the other, for them to use as kind of “manifestation template.”

Before I go on, I want to add this little side note:
I thought it would be a good idea at the time to take all of my ex’s cards, pictures, etc. and burn them. I would then scatter the ashes to the wind, giving the Universe a smoke signal that there was now a boyfriend void to fill.

With my right shoulder cradling the phone, I took Wes outside with me, along with my box of memories and a lighter. It was about 8 p.m., cold and dark and lightly drizzling, which I thought was a good sign.
I put everything on a large stone in the middle of my wet patio and lit it up. After a couple of minutes, there was a good little fire going, and I watched our smiling faces and birthday cards filled with his once loving words, melt before my eyes. Trouble was, a significant breeze had picked up and started swirling a small tornado of embers all around me! I was screaming and trying to get away, but the lost love delivery system, disguised as burning paper, was in my hair, my face, and my mouth and burning tiny holes in my flannel nightgown. All the while, Wes laughed hysterically into my ear!

So…
We met at an Italian restaurant, and armed with a bottle of Chianti courage, we exchanged our Relationship Lists and decided to read each other’s out loud, to gain clarity.
Big mistake…Huge.

He read mine first:
Affectionate…okay
Passionate….yep
Funny….critical
Loves sex….um…
Loves my cats….he glanced up at me and winced
Loves a lot of sex….gulp
Snappy dresser…..really?
Enormously wealthy…Shallow, I warned you!
Blah, blah, blah.

Hearing them out loud was literally painful. My face was on fire with humiliation.
Wes was laughing so hard he had to hold a napkin to his mouth, tears streaming down his face.

Then it was my turn to read his list:
Concerned about the planet…okay.
Philanthropic…of course
Self confidant…uh huh
Belief in a higher power…shit!
Nurturing…I want that!
Concern for my well being…give me my F*cking list back!

My light and funny friend surprised me, his list was seriously great! It was honest and deep and full of heart.

Mine was crap. Where’s a candle? It NEEDED to catch fire!
I was lunging across the table, trying to grab my ridiculously shallow list back, but he put it in his pocket and kept it.

And then, my magical, mystical, friend manifested the perfect man for me.
In a year.

That is the actual list above…I have no pride.
Wes found it in a box during a recent move, framed it, and gave it to me for my birthday last year.

I have yet to manifest a significant other for him….have you seen his standards?!
Xox