patience

Anticipation, Anticpation
Is making me late.
Is keeping me waiting.
~Music and lyrics by Carly Simon

In a little over four weeks I will be embarking on an exciting adventure.
It feels life changing.

Hello, I don’t know if you’ve met me?
I am the Queen of Instant Gratifiction so the anticipation is KILLING me!

To some people anticipation is delicious, something to be spread on little toast points and relished.

My husband is such a person. He will create little pockets of anticipation whenever he can.
Weekend rides with his buddies, his Memorial trip every year with his brother.
I see him light up when he’s asked about it, or texting the details. He enjoys EVERY SINGLE SECOND of the wait.
It makes me laugh and roll my eyes, but I do envy him his simple pleasures.

Me? Not so much.

Anticipation is torture for me. I’m THAT girl. Spontaneity is MY middle name.

“Come on , let’s not draw this thing out, show me the surprise, or tell me the secret. Get on with it.”

Byron Katie says that anticipation is where fear and terror live, not reality.
I usually don’t disagree with her, but from what I’ve observed at my house, that is not the case.
Expectation – I believe that about expectations. I’ve met fear and terror there.

I think anticipation is a lost art and it’s making me sad.
It needs to make a comeback.

I’m not sure I can lead the parade on this, but from living with The Grand Marshall, I gotta tell ya, anticipation kicks instant gratification’s ass every time.

What’s wrong with us? (Notice how I’ve lumped you in with Team Janet)

Why can’t the wait be great?

We want something, we buy it. We don’t save fifty bucks a month living on the excitement of the dream for a year.
Not anymore.
Shit. Amazon now has same day delivery; they must have read all my emails complaining about the overnight wait. Same day was MADE for people like me.

My husband. He’ll wait. He’ll look forward ALL WEEK to the Thursday delivery.

I want to be in his camp, I’m just not wired that way.

I do remember getting VERY excited when I was about nine and the one telephone we had in the house would ring. My dad would announce: Janet, it’s for you, and my heart would start racing. Who was it? Was it a boy? Thirty seconds of excruciating anticipation. Maybe that’s the cause for me. The point of origin for this particular neurosis?

HE, on the other hand, was raised in France.

They wait to see a doctor, the entire country waits until August to go on vacation, they even wait until after work in the evening to buy bread for dinner.

As he will patiently re-explain to me at least once a month:the feeling of looking forward to something is magical and must be savored.

Like a fine wine or stinky cheese, it get richer and more complex over time. As each detail of the anticipated event unfolds, the feeling mounts; until, as I have witnessed with him, it culminates in a night before Christmas kind of giddy, sleepless euphoria – wearing a silly grin.

It’s impossible for me to maintain such a high level of excitement.

I’ll explode, my face will get stuck like that, and I need my sleep.

“Are we there yet?”

I DO get excited, but it’s my nature to wait until the very last minute.
I just want the event, vacation, surprise, whatever to start, I don’t make a big magilla out of the lead up time. I don’t mark off days on the calendar to remind me how much glorious waiting time I have left.

But I just may this time.
I see how the other half lives and it looks…….fun.

I too want to wear a silly grin and become giddy as the days draw closer.

Let’s see how this goes, reviving this lost art of anticipation, shall we?

Are you in my camp or his? Do you relish the wait?
I’d love to hear your stories of anticipation my dear ones, they’ll help me!
Thanks!

Sending love….in a minute…..wait for it.
Xox

Wanna listen instead?
https://soundcloud.com/jbertolus/anticipation

When I was working in Estate Jewelry, we had a bench jeweler, David, on the premises.
He had a set up, kind of like the glass blowers have at Disneyland. He worked in a veritable fishbowl. There he sat, in a glass enclosed booth at the front of the store, working his alchemy with his torch and tools.
When people would drop off their repairs, especially a badly damaged engagement ring, David would put his other jobs aside and get to work. The woman would then press her nose against the glass to watch. I would walk over, put my arm around her shoulder and gently shepherd her away. 

“Oh, you don’t want to watch this.” I’d whisper. “Go get a coffee and come back in an hour or so. Better yet, I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
She’d kinda look at me funny, wondering if I was serious, and then, when she saw the look on my face, she’d hand me her number, grab her purse and go.
I knew that while she was gone, all hell was going to break loose on that bench.

I was being kind. I was sparing her the horror that watching the process would undoubtedly cause her. I also didn’t want to pick tiny pieces of broken glass out of David’s hair, after she jumped through the window to strangle him.

What I knew, from years of observation was this: During the process of fixing, rebuilding and restoring the ring to its former glory, it was going to get ugly. And by ugly, I mean the catastrophic results of the biggest shit storm you’ve ever seen. There would be broken bits and diamonds scattered everywhere, as he deconstructed it. At a certain point it wouldn’t even resemble anything close to a ring. It would look like a pile of platinum scrap with some shiny bits. It used to horrify me, in the beginning, when I would walk over to check on the progress of a repair. I’d gasp and stop dead in my tracks with my hand over my mouth and tears in my eyes.
And I was a jeweler.
No one should have to watch that kind of carnage. It’s cruel.
I wanted to save clients THAT experience.
David explained that in order to build it stronger, he had to tear it down and basically start over. Not just anyone could get away with that. He was a sorcerer, my Merlin, he preformed feats of incredible alchemy and he was a master at antique jewelry restoration. When I eventually handed the ring back to the client, it looked good as new, actually….better.

No civilian is allowed to watch a surgery, that is reserved for other doctors, and the reason is the same. During the “putting you back together” portion of the procedure, there are blood and guts all over the place. It doesn’t look like the patient could possibly live.
It appears that there are too many guts OUT of the body, to go back IN the body. Too much blood loss to survive. We would puke, and then faint in our own puke; so they save us the stress and humiliation and hand us back a cleaned up, sewed up, repaired, person…… Better than new.

I was having lunch today with a friend, and I told her I feel as if lately, I’m at the jewelers bench or on operating table, and I’m watching the carnage of the rebuilding of my life. It’s in the ugly stage of reconstruction, with bits lying everywhere. It looks NOTHING like my former life. And I’m not being a pro about it today.
I’m the novice, gasping with my hand over my mouth and tears in my eyes, in complete terror.
I know better.
I would tell YOU to avert your eyes.
I need to look away.
It seems like a shit pile right now, but it will be good as new soon……..probably better.
I AM a pro and experience is on my side.

*What happens if you have something left over after you put all the guts back into someone? Is it like the two extra screws that remain behind, and don’t seem to belong anywhere?
Just wondering…….carry on.

Xox 

“Believing in yourself is an endless destination. Believing you have failed is the end of the journey.”
– Anon

The Universe is a self correcting force. It is always aimed toward the highest good. The only things that can make it deviate from this trajectory are fear, anger and guilt.
The freaking Trifecta of Punishment, the Grand Slam of Self Sabotage, The Catholic/ Jewish/ Italian/ Triple Crown.

I hate to break it to ya,
The Universe doesn’t judge, it doesn’t hold a grudge or believe in mistakes or failures. We can count on ourselves for that.
Every time we fall on our faces, the Universe is waiting patiently for us to get up, brush ourselves off, and stop complaining. It knows there is always the opportunity to self correct. There is always tomorrow.
Believe this, and it is the key to your freedom. Don’t; and it will feel like hell.

Note to self: The Ego gives shitty advise.
While the Ego talks you into doing that thing that “seems like a good idea at the time” or “what everyone else is doing”, the Universe takes a comfortable seat and waits for the finale. This is not its first rodeo.
It knows it may take a while, so it brings Sudoku and it’s knitting.
When things inevitably fall apart, because they are built on the quicksand that the Ego provides, the Universe NEVER says “I told you so.”
The Ego ALWAYS does. AFTER it tells you you are a pathetic, no good, loser.
That’s when the anger and self hatred kick in.
Those are the Ego’s henchmen. The Universe doesn’t take their calls.

Since the Universe is self correcting, it will plot another course for your success.
Just like your GPS does when you don’t listen and take the “short cuts.”
While you’re waiting, it’s easy to lose your faith. You’ve mucked it up and things could not look worse. If you stay centered in the present and field every hunch and idea for the future, no matter how crazy or far fetched they may seem, the Universe will deliver the goods. If you fall prey to the Trifecta, she’ll wait……and correct again.

Marianne Williamson likens faith to a pilot making an approach to the airport in heavy fog. He has to trust his instruments to “see” for him and land the plane.
I love that analogy.
You can’t see radio waves, yet you know they exist. The same with gravity.
Even if you can’t see your way to success, or love NOW, there is a bigger picture in which it exists.
Have faith. The Universe will appear like a freakin’ Ninja Navy Seal. It was there all along, crouched in the shadows, just waiting for the right time, you just weren’t aware of it. It’s that stealth. 
And it’s coming in to kick some Ego ass.

Have you fallen prey to the Trifecta? Do you have a Universal Reboot story? I’d love to hear it! Let me know in the comments below.

Xox

I have a slogan for when things get messed up: Wait for the turnaround.
~Debbie Harry~lead singer of the punk rock band Blondie
( If you don’t know that – shame on you)

I’ve always been a “fix it” kinda gal.

If you present me with a problem or a mess, I’m gonna brainstorm it until I find a solution.

I’m going to fight it and wrestle it to the ground, I rarely take NO for an answer, and everything is figuraoutable.

I’d like to think I’m a lot like Debbie Harry…in more ways than one.
Truth is, I have waited for the turnaround…after I have exhausted every other option known to man – and then some.

Then I wised up.

I bet that wasn’t her slogan at 25 or even 35.
That’s the kind of wisdom you gain with maturity; the end result of many, many, many, mess hp’s.

Fifty – I’m going to guess that she came to that epiphany after fifty.
It’s around that age that you realize that there can even BE a turnaround.
That there will ALWAYS be a turnaround.

After fifty THIS you know for sure: You have to pick yourself up off the bathroom floor to be ready for the turnaround.

You have to make it until the sun comes up, because in the deep, suffocating blackness of 3am, you can’t even imagine a turnaround.

That you have to get sober to start the turnaround.

That tears make your eyes that much more capable of seeing the turnaround.

That sometimes you have to be alone, inside the silence, to listen for the turnaround.

That your wounded heart, with its bandages and skid marks, has to open enough to let the love in.
That love, is hidden in the turnaround.

Note to self:Look away.
The turnaround doesn’t reside anywhere near the mess, so if you stay digging around in that pile of shit, it will allude you.
You can’t stalk the turnaround, you can’t cajole it. You can’t bargain with it, or coerce it into place. AND……you certainly can’t rush it.

Believe me, I’ve tried.

When things are messed up. When they are epically trashed. There WILL be a turnaround. History has proven it.
It comes in its own time. It can take years or days or even just hours. Look at every disaster, natural and man made. Things appear bleak, all hope is lost, but eventually the dust settles and in rides…….the turnaround. Remember 9/11?
We were in shock, then despair, then pissed off, then….wait for it…we emerged stronger and more united than ever.
Humongous, miraculous, turnaround.

You gotta love Debbie Harry. Gorgeous, Sexy, smart, 70’s-80’s rock star icon and a guru after 50. Just like me. 😉
I bet she never thought she’d be quoted in a spiritual blog. There’s a first time for everything…even for you; Debbie Harry.

Tell me about a big turnaround in your life. I’d love to hear about it.

Xox

The Muse is clever. She’s a “broad” that has a way with words.
When I sat down to write about the recent energy, with all its starts and stops, she announced: “That’s the Law of Divine Constipation at work. You have the urge to go……..butcha can’t. Frustrating, huh?”
That’s an understatement.

And that’s a new one on me. But I kinda love it. And it describes things perfectly.

Some issues have resolved themselves easily and effortlessly. New projects sailing into fruition, “Like a knife thru buttah.”
Others…..well; others have had a high level of constraint or restriction; a pronounced lack of ease. You have the urge to move quickly on something, only to be thwarted at every turn.

Yep, constipated. Feels like cement. Like you ate a wheel of Brie or a box of matzoh.
Except; you’re compelled to go, go, go.
We’ve all felt held back before. The difference to me is the urgency. I’m raring to go, but there isn’t enough Milk of Magnesia on the planet to get things moving.
It’s going to take TIME.
Even with this overwhelming need to push…….we’ve gotta be patient.
The Muse did tell me a mantra to repeat when the Divine Law of Constipation pays a visit.

THIS TOO SHALL PASS.

I don’t know about you, but patience is NOT my thing. I don’t even reside in the same zip code as patience. It is my tormentor and my teacher.
But it’s been explained to me that when this constipation takes over, it’s got its reasons. It’s here to serve us. To slow us down. It’s for our benefit. It’s Divine after all.
This spiritually guided constipation comes into play so projects have more gestation time, more time to “cook.” It’s saving us a ton of time and trouble, trying to “get out” of something we have impetuously rushed our speedy little butts into. The object of our desire is clear, our course is set, we are just in a holding pattern waiting for all the pieces to fall into place. It could even become something better. Pushing soon could mess things up.
Well……..when you put it that way.
I thought it was just here to make me miserable, when it’s really here to SAVE me from misery. Nice.

I’m sitting things out, for now, waiting for The Universal Laxative of right timing to kick in.

How about you? You feeling the effects of This Divine Law?
You eager to start something, but getting nothing but red lights? I’d love to hear about it.

Xox

If you think you’re too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito
~The Dalai Lama~

It seems mosquitos are very effective teachers.
To some they teach tolerance and non violence.
They test your patience as they make their presence known.
They draw you into the present and make you pay attention.
Me? With me they bring out my deepest, darkest killer instinct. My inner Dexter.
At three in the morning, when I hear that high pitched whining in my ear,
I Want. Them. Dead.
So much for non violence.
And I’m the girl that carries spiders outside.
I’m a card carrying pacifist until the mosquito shows me otherwise.

Just when you’re certain of your enlightened state. At the moment you know who you are and what you stand for, you can leave it to one of God’s tiniest creatures to bitch slap you back to reality. Or leave crazy, itchy, welts on your ass.
She has a wicked sense of humor.
If THAT doesn’t get you off your high horse….

So……I’m a pacifist unless pushed. Good to know.
Can you be a conditional pacifist? What IS my breaking point?
Those are important questions that can lead to self discovery……..or not.

Here’s what I know for sure.
I know I can snap if my sleep is interrupted.
I have been known to scream obscenities at ignorant drivers.

Then there’s the little dog. The puppy. The boxer-shark puppy.
IT has been sent by God to torment; I mean test me.
I have swatted the puppy on the rump for numerous infractions. Not hard, don’t go all PETA on me. It’s a swat to get her to pay attention to my stern face. She has made a mockery of my stern face. My stern face is a joke to her. The older dog cowers, she points and laughs.
Forget about NO. NO has become useless. To her, it means HI and SURE. She thinks it’s her name. It is yelled so frequently it has lost all of its bite. 
Talking about bite; that one tests my patience with her incessant biting.
She bites when she’s playing. She bites when she’s tired. She bites to make a point. She bites AIR. 
She bites the older dog on her Achilles. Little bitch. I scold her. I forcefully push her away. I “time out” her. When all I really want to do is bite her back.
She wields an unbelievable amount of power in our house. She is small, but her presence is mighty. She is my teacher. She makes me question my parenting skills AND my pacifist membership.

OMMMMM…………Back to a loving place………..Between the Mosquitos and the boxer-shark puppy, I have some serious spiritual work to do.

Who or what is your trigger? I’d love to hear who tests your patience, tolerance and all around spiritual practice. Tell me about it in the comments.

Xox

So, if you’re like me, I’ve spent years waiting for certain things to happen, only to ring in another year, and alas…that thing I want is annoyingly absent.

Now we all understand at this stage of the game how the Universe works, right?

Sometimes I need a reminder, so here’s a very abbreviated refresher course:
1) You have a desire. It can be anything, from a new car, to bigger boobs, to improved health.
The Universe doesn’t judge, so you shouldn’t either, just sayin’.
2) The Universe complies. End of story.

So why all the suffering? Why don’t we all get what we think we want?
Here’s why…
3) Stay out of the way.
Shit!
That one gets me every time!

Here’s a reminder that I always repeat to myself when I want to pull my hair out:

I ask the Universe for something, they say “Yes”!
I ask the Universe for something, they say “Not right now”.
I ask the Universe for something, they say “No…I have something better for you”.

Damn! That sounds awesome and simple, and it is!
But simple doesn’t mean easy!

You know why?
Because we can’t keep our big noses out of the Universe’s business!
When it says “not right now” we scream, “why not”!
We have to keep opening the oven, so to speak, to see if it’s cooked, and you know what that does? It slows down the process! Or worse yet, it makes the soufflé drop.
It shows that we don’t really trust the Universe to get it done, and the Universe can’t stand a Doubting Thomas. Sorry, but it’s the truth.

There is a timetable we are not privy to, a point where all the stars align.
If you monitor it, and micro manage it, constantly checking the progress,
the miracles that need to occur to help it along will never happen!
They can’t when we’re watching.
It only happens when our heads are turned, or we fall asleep…kinda like the tooth fairy or Santa Claus.

Another thing we do…we confuse the energy by asking for one thing, but doing the exact opposite.
You can’t say you want your life to change, when you continue to do everything the same.
It just doesn’t work that way.
Do you know how confusing that is for the Universe? It’s like a computer.
If you put in a command and then continue to hit “Control, Alt, Delete”, you’re not going to get anything! You will be stalled, sitting in the traffic of your mixed signals.

I remember realizing that, when I decided I wanted to meet a man and get married. I knew I had to circulate in the world…better yet, I had to date! I couldn’t just sit in my pajamas on Saturday nights, or continue to have occasional sex with an ex, and I definitely couldn’t say to everyone that I was skeptical that true love really existed. The miracles couldn’t happen if I wasn’t willing to show up and be clear about wanting a husband!

When it says ” I have something better for you” we scream “how could you?!”
You know how? The Universe dreams bigger than we do.
So we have to be happy waiting for the big reveal,
where…we…stand.
It is just the platform where we launch ourselves toward our desired goal, then the Universe takes it from there!

Well, that’s impossible!
How can you be happy being sick, when wellness is nowhere in sight?
Or single, when the loneliness is palpable?
Or broke, when your unemployment runs out,
Or chubby, when you just broke another zipper?
Happy?! Really?
Yes.

Because the miracles can’t find you if you stay in the energy of the suffering.
They can only meet you if you can get to the corner of happiness and acceptance.

Just like driving a motorcycle or car.
If you fixate on an obstacle you WILL hit it!
You have to look in the direction you WANT to go. Counterintuitive but true.

That means getting out and dating, and actually having fun.
Or wearing the new blue dress that’s not a size 6, and knowing you look pretty.
It means splurging on a manicure, because it makes you feel good, and you know the money will come.
Or taking a shower and shaving for the first time since your last chemo, finally washing away the smell of hospital.

THEN, you can start to conjure the feelings of happiness and relief that the money, or love, or healing would bring.
Pretend if you have to, use your imagination!

Remember, simple, not easy.

And that goes for illness, bad relationships, jobs, weight, EVERYTHING!
Practice this, and you’re on your way to making room for all those miracles!
I’m right there with you.
XoxJanet