Oh don’t you get all high and mighty on me.
Like you’ve never thought this…or something worse!
Listen, I got an email from a reader, Lisa, who commented on my swearing (she liked the fact that I talked, and these are her words: like a real person), and asked me as someone with a spiritual blog, if I ever lost my temper with people and flipped them off or cursed at them.
Uh…yeah.
Lisa, first of all I think its darling that you aren’t sure about that. Have you met me?
I’m human, with all the faults, flaws and bird-flipping that guarantees.
Lisa, still in doubt, check this out:
http://www.theobserversvoice.com/2014/12/no-amount-of-shitty-is-worth-sacrificing-a-whole-day/
As this blog has progressed over the years, I starting asking myself: Self, why are you writing this? And the answer was simple. Because most of the spiritual wisdom that had been around for years has been pretty damn dry and the people who write it sound like living saints; tempers in check, always making the right choices, with no mis-steps or mistakes to speak of.
Well, I don’t know about you all, but that’s not me.
When I talk I use the word fuck –– often. So when I write, it sneaks in. Also shit and assbite and all the other splendid, wildly descriptive words that spellcheck attempts to change to something more docile.
I’m not making excuses, I can’t stand excuses, but if I were –– It’s probably from working around men all my life, I’ve written about living my thirties as a man, and one of side effects is a mouth like a sailor.
http://www.theobserversvoice.com/2014/06/the-gender-of-champions/
It is never my intent to offend anyone, but I write what I know and I’ve gotta be who I am.
I figure if someone logs on and is horrified by my language, or the content or even a graphic about a chair in the face –– they’re not my people and they’ll just move along.
The bottom line is this you guys: You can have a forty-year (gulp –– fuck I’m old) meditation practice, read every spiritual book you can get your hands on, Om and chant and stand on your head, and still have a bad day inside this glorious human life we all have the privilege of living.
And as for the F-bombs? Well, I think I’m okay –– unless God has one of those cursing jars that require you to contribute a dollar for every swear word. If that’s the case –– I’m screwed.
I hope that answers your question Lisa, and thanks for reading!
Carry on you salty dogs,
xox
Last week I wrote about revisiting past traumas for healing.
http://www.theobserversvoice.com/?p=2345
That’s been working out well. The puppy is her demon self again.
This week has been about revisiting chaos…and finding, or better yet, restoring order.
At least I’m trying. And to be fair I’ve succeeded in several endeavors.
One of them has NOT been this blog.
Holy shit on a cracker; the transfer of this blog to a different host, and the cosmetic changes were supposed to appear overnight, while most of us slept; like the Easter bunny. Sorry Thailand.
But they have not and for that I’m sorry. One email read: it was like my parents moved and forgot to tell me! Ouch. I am so sorry…….cupcake?
In hindsight, this was probably not the week to try this. Lesson learned.
Remember the post about just accepting “what is”?
Yeah…trying to practice what I preach.
Just bear with me, don’t jump ship and be a fair weather follower.
Nevertheless…
I am known for being pretty darn organized. Not like my sister organized, but close.
Martha Stewart kneels at my sister’s feet in deference.
There is a black file cabinet, in the back office that is in a perpetual state of organized chaos. You know, like that drawer in the kitchen.
There has been some denial disguised as paperwork, that has been screaming for my attention, and it finally received it this week. You know that sinking feeling as you walk by that shit? I’m determined to un-sink my life right now.
I blame this freaky energy.
Hot pink Post It’s are like 911, top priority, PAY ATTENTION TO ME NOW, don’t keep walking; in my system.
One folder that has a big hot pink Post It on it, is labeled Domaine Names.
That folder is filthy dirty and all curled in on itself, like a dead spider, after being salvaged from the water of my store’s flood. On the outside of the folder, barely legible, are all the account passwords and the nuclear codes.
I have been receiving emails from Go Daddy about the domaine names expiring for weeks. Each one escalates its urgency. Large fees are mentioned, automatic renewal, blah, blah. I don’t want to renew. Go online, right? Trouble is; I can hardly read the passwords, and they don’t work.
Chaos.
This is going to require phone time. With an automated system. I’d rather have needles stuck in my eye, so I’ve just walked by it…for a looooong time. Today I called and after giving my social, my tax ID number, my SAT scores and my bra size, I was transferred directly to Tad. His condescension was only exceed by Jeffrey’s this morning at my Web hosting provider, so I’m used to it. It’s like breathing air to me now, just part of life. The painful experience was over in half a second, like eyebrow waxing; aided by the fact that the credit card on account had expired. Why didn’t they just say that in an email?
Another end to THAT story.
I’m going to make a ceremony out of shredding that file.
I do that in life with things that annoy me. When I no longer required birth control, I took my diaphram out in the backyard, poked tens of holes in it with a sparkler, and lit it on fire. We have pictures.
Literally half of the top drawer of that large file cabinet is devoted to stock accounts, or should I say PAST stock accounts. I was very active in the stock market in the 90’s and it helped me buy my house. Thankfully, I was out of the market before this latest crash. I get statements from ETrade every month, which I never open…but I file them, as I have since 1995.
What I did do in August of 2001 was to create a custodial account for my nephew, who was 5 at the time. I bought him a few shares of Disney and Krispy Kreme, kid’s stuff. A month later was 911 and I remember looking at a statement and the account had lost more than half it’s value.
The next time I opened a statement before yesterday was 2008 and it looked bleak.
So, I’d just file them away, unopened. Yesterday, walking back to the chaos of the abyss, it dawned on me that he’s about to turn 18 in two weeks. In California, at 18 he can legally take possession of that money. He’s also graduating high school, and off to college in the fall. I opened the statement and holy shit, there’s some real money in that account now. I got on the phone with Hank at ETrade (passwords were obsolete from lack of use) and they’re sending a check. I toyed with the idea of just transferring the account to him instead of a check, but….he’s 18. That’s the difference between getting a polite “Thank you” and a hug. I’m going for the hug. There was also a windfall of $15 left in one of the old stock accounts, so yipeeeee, I’m rich! Drinks all around!
The ending of both of those past experiences makes me SO freaking happy.
I can crumple up that hot pink Post It, shred that file and take great pleasure in putting another nail in the coffin of my dearly departed Atik.
And that little stock account that could? Hell, it actually produced some money and my brain cells fired to remind me, all at the perfect time.
It’s been a productive week so far.
How about you?
I’d love to hear some chaos restoring stories.
Is this energy pushing you to put things in order?
Tell me about it below.
Xox
Hi All,
So here’s the thing. While I was being a slug on the couch Friday night, my husband inquired as to my plans for Saturday afternoon. Seems after reading my post about the kite
http://theobserversvoice.com/2014/04/02/go-fly-a-kite/
He went on Amazon, bought me a kite and researched the places within a thirty mile radius of our home with optimal wind conditions.
Is your mouth hanging open like mine was?
Just that he continues to read my blog gives him so many husband extra credit points, then to actually decipher the emotional content….
So yesterday we actually woke up to a blue sky, breezy day, drove to a perfect little park in Silverlake, and for the first time in 40 years, I flew a kite. I still can’t wipe the smile off my face.
Happy Sunday!
XoxJanet
“Whenever you become anxious or stressed, outer purpose has taken over, and you lost sight of your inner purpose. You have forgotten that your state of consciousness is primary, all else secondary.”
~Eckhart Tolle~
Man, can you feel it? There’s a LOT of drama out there.
It’s like the Shakespeare Festival has staked its tent and all the players are acting out their melodrama…inside OUR lives. Crazy has come to town.
It feels not only national, but global…even Cosmic.
Lots of amped up solar activity lately. March even spit us an X class solar flare on its way out. I blame everything wonky on solar flares. Computer goes down, car won’t start, dog poops in the house.
“I call it! Solar flare!” From bad TV reception, to cranky pants postal workers, to epic fly away hair and static electricity. I went to pet the dog last night and produced an electrical arc that would have made Tesla proud. “Solar flare!”
If you think that full moons bring out the crazies, I betcha twenty bucks solar flares are worse.
Mother Earth is even rattled for Pete’s sake. It’s rockin’ and rolllin’, and keeping us all guessing. “They” even say that the 8.2 in Chile was not “The Big One”. “They” are not helping. “They” need be run out-of-town with torches and pitchforks. Kidding. But seriously people, you don’t know ANYTHING for sure. Pipe down or soon everyone in Chile and California will be sleeping in the park.
Oh yeah, Crazy loves to camp.
Driving is especially insane these days. On the freeway this morning, there must have been an accident every mile and a half.
People are short-tempered and stressed, and that makes them drive really fast while texting, eating an Egg McMuffin and putting on mascara.
I’d tell you it’s safer to fly, but…honest to God, where’s that freaking Malaysian plane?
The energy seems to be crackling with chaos and turmoil. So how do we stay above the fray? How do we not get caught up in all this drama? Especially when the majority of it doesn’t even belong to us?
1) TURN OFF CNN.
2) Breathe and stay in the moment. Someone’s got to keep a cool head.
Don’t worry about what “could” happen. Breathe and stay in the moment.
If the Earth opens up and swallows your neighbor’s house…breathe and stay in the moment.
If the car next to you swerves and flips on it’s back. Breathe and stay in the moment.
3) Keep a cool head. Stay grounded. It’s not your shit. Help out.
Be one of the people who stays calm and carries on. We need you.
If it’s not happening to you directly, breathe and stay in the moment so you can be of assistance.
If YOUR house is hit by an asteroid, you know what I’m gonna say:
Breathe and stay in the moment.
Then grab the dog and run.
XoxJanet
How crazy is it where you are?
How do you stay grounded? Or do you? I want to hear about it in the comments below.
<p>
PUNISHMENT
pun·ish·ment
ˈpəniSHmənt/
noun
1. The infliction or imposition of a penalty as retribution for an offense.
“crime demands just punishment”
synonyms: penalizing, punishing, disciplining
Are you a punisher?
I was…I have been…so I guess I am.
I’ve withheld sex after a fight. That’s a classic.
I’ve withheld my attention when I’ve felt misunderstood.
I’ve given the silent treatment, which to some was actually a reward, so I stopped.
I’d venture to guess we’ve all got a little of the punisher inside us.
I’m not passive aggressive, I’m actively aggressive. I do not shy away from confrontation. To me, passive aggression is a form of punishment. You say everything’s okay, when you think it’s not. You avoid direct confrontation, then pout, procrastinate, or fail to complete the task you were asked to do. Ugh! Don’t punish everyone. Just say no next time.
When I’ve punished, I’ve felt unheard or misunderstood, so I didn’t feel like rewarding that behavior with my time, attention or affection.
Disappointment is the worst. “I will make you pay!”
“You get no Janet love!”
But what made me think that bad behavior would get me my desired results? Again, it is a false sense of power, who’s unstable foundation is fear and insecurity. There’s so many of those, and they wamboozel us. Remember ultimatums?
http://theobserversvoice.com/2014/03/20/youre-not-the-boss-of-me/
What made me think I could be a bitch to you, and THAT would make you do what I ask…or want me more?
I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say it stems from my childhood. (Gasp)
[Cue the cheesy organ music from the old soap operas]
I’m certain I saw it as a child. The silent treatment. We screwed up and mom’s not talking to us. Uh oh.
“Where did we ever get the crazy idea that in order to make children do better, first we have to make them feel worse? Think of the last time you felt humiliated or treated unfairly. Did you feel like cooperating or doing better?”
― Jane Nelsen
Right?! I’ve REALLY grasped that concept as I’ve reached my 50’s. No need for public humiliation. No need to “find fault.” Ohhhh that’s another one. I had a boss, that when something went wrong; before we problem solved and tried to fix it, we had to all stand there and figure out whose fault it was. All two, maybe three of us.
Jeez.
Mistakes are made, people mess up, feelings get hurt, stuff gets broken (sorry mom) and now I for one, will be trying my damnedest to hang up my punisher hat.
You know, the one with the bright red: “I’m always right” on the front.
How about you?
XoxJanet
Are you a punisher? Do you know someone who is? I’ve confessed, Don’t leave me hangin’
Let me know in the comments below.
I was thinking about this the other day. Don’t ask me why. Maybe because it’s been windy here in LA, and I love to fly kites. And…I like the analogy.
Here goes: If I was a kite, flying high in the wind, searching for the jet stream, I would have a tail to stabilize my flight and I would be grounded by a long string.
You with me?
As this kite, I look forward to the windiest days. The Santa Ana’s are music to my ears. Even though they seem a bit chaotic to some, even destructive, they are the thunder to my lightening, the Sonny to my Cher, the peanut butter to my jelly.
We are a team. I’m nothing without a good, stiff breeze. Have you ever tried to fly a kite without the wind? You run and run for miles, until you have no breath left in your body, and when you finally stop…the kite crashes to the ground.
It’s impossible.
So, I’ve got the wind to set me sailing high above the clouds.
What would my tail be made of? What would I use to keep me from wobbling, spinning and diving uncontrollably? This is tricky, a stabilizer has to be light, it can’t impede the lift.
I could make a tail of old torn up love letters and pages from my past, tied together by memories. I would gain a little height, maybe just up over the trees, but then those memories would start to weigh me down. My past would act like an anchor. Better to just let them go.
Would I use everything I’ve learned through the years? Hmmm…that has to do with intellect and my mind. I can tie together notes to myself about how to fly and articles on aerodynamics, with doubt and uncertainty as the glue. Whatcha think?
I can’t gain any altitude because I’m thinking way too much about the how’s and why’s of staying aloft.
Hey! What about belief. If I can string together with faith, all the beliefs about myself that let me know I was MADE to fly. I’m a kite, for crying out loud. Flying is my sweet spot. The belief that the sky is where I belong. That I’m better than most. That if I go with the flow, and let the wind take me, I can fly higher than the birds. Maybe hitch a ride on an airplane. (As kids we were convinced our kites were so high, a jet plane would have to swerve around them) Gotta love that.
Belief is the perfect stabilizer. That will be my tail.
Now…who holds the string? Ohhhhh boy.
My ego? Nope too ADD. He’ll see something shiny and let go. I’m not safe with him at the helm.
I can’t let my fears hold the string. They’ll never let me get higher than five feet off the ground. Too windy, too dangerous, too high, too hard to hold, too fearful, too bad. Next!
What about a member of my council? You remember I wrote about our councils.
http://theobserversvoice.com/2014/03/27/your-behind-the-scenes-team/comment-page-1/
How about the guy with the TEAM JANET sweatshirt? He’s perfect to hold the string. He knows all the best parks, where to find the fastest winds, even where to get that extra long spool of string. So jet stream here I come! He won’t limit me or bring me down before I’m ready. Yep, I’ve got this all figured out.
Weeeee weeeee!
XoxJanet
How about you?
Do you relate to the kite analogy? Do you have a better one for yourself? A high performance race car?
Please share in the comments below!
I love me some Mary Barra. She is the CEO of General Motors, and right now they are in some pretty hot water over the handling of an ignition switch recall. People were injured and some died from these faulty parts. At the time, 2004-2008, GM was in serious financial trouble, and we, the tax payer, bailed them out in 2008.
They are now the new and improved General Motors, with Mary Barra coming in as CEO in January 2014
Now, I don’t usually have all these dates and details at my finger tips, I was just stuck in traffic, and heard the story today on the radio. It’s still me, don’t be alarmed.
Here’s why I love Mary Barra. She said “I am deeply sorry.”
“Today’s GM will do the right thing,” she said. “That begins with my sincere apologies to everyone who has been affected by this recall — especially to the families and friends of those who lost their lives or were injured. I am deeply sorry.”
No one from GM has offered anything close to an apology up until today.
What? Why?
Lawsuits, no admission of guilt, blah, blah, blah.
Say you’re sorry damn it!
You get a lot of mileage from saying “I’m sorry.”
To someone who’s lost a loved one it isn’t enough; but it is a start.
It shows compassion. Corporations generally haven’t shown empathy or compassion, because they aren’t human. But they’re comprised of human beings, so where’s the disconnect?
What is the human resistance to apologizing?
In your life does saying “I’m sorry” signal weakness?
I think it signals strength. Like bad ass Ninja warrior strength; because it’s hard to say.
Something happened. Shit went down. Feelings got hurt. You played a part.
“I’m sorry.”
Just those two-word can defuse SO much energy.
Have you ever tried to continue your rage rant when someone has just offered you a sincere apology? You can’t. Well, you can, but you’ll feel like a real bitch. Then the tables are turned.
If it’s insincere, there’s nothing worse and it doesn’t count.
Get mad. Lawyer up. Show no mercy.
But if it’s heartfelt….it starts the healing…or the conversation…or the hot make up sex.
I’ve said it when I’ve been wrong, and I’ve had it said to me, and I gotta tell ya, it’s magic. It’s like water on a fire.
You feel heard and understood.
So next time your back’s up against the wall, and you’ve messed up,
just say you’re sorry, and mean it, you Ninja warrior, you.
It’ll feel good; I promise.
Xox
Do you say your sorry when your wrong? Do you accept it when it’s said to you?
Agree or disagree?
Start the conversation in the comments below.
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