writing

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.

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

“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

Damn, my mom looks good. She looks like Jane Fonda from her “Klute” days, in this picture.
Makes sense, it was taken in the early seventies. She was about 35 years old.

My mom was just getting aquatinted with herself right around that time.
Divorcing my dad, getting out from under her Jackie Kennedy bouffant, becoming politically active, getting back into the workforce and finding her independence. Her musical tastes changed from Andy Williams to Bruce Springsteen.
She became a free spirit, a hippie of sorts.

I have a very different experience of my mom than my brother and sister.
I was the oldest. To me, growing up, my mom was a hard ass.
The disciplinarian. The enforcer. Strict but fair.

She made sure my Catholic School uniform skirt touched the floor when I kneeled.

She took me to see live theatre, which in turn got me hooked on live theatre.

She insisted I walk the one mile to and from my Catholic school every day, rain or shine. It was no big deal back then. ( I was the only one in the family that went to Catholic School all the way through grades 2-12)

She enrolled me in Girl Scouts so I could learn teamwork, sales and acquire some camping and outdoor skills.
(It barely worked)

She enforced a strict 7pm bedtime, even in the summer, when it was still light 
outside.

She indulged my fear of the dark. She checked under the bed for monsters, never shut the door to my room after saying goodnight, and made sure there was a nightlight on in the bathroom.

She “locked” us outside in the summer with a kiddie pool bought with green stamps. (She made a game out of wetting the sheets with a sponge and putting them in the books) and prompted us to run through the sprinklers.
At noon she provided a lunch of bologna sandwiches and pitchers of Kool Aid.
At three, homemade Popsicles made from freezing grape juice in Tupperware Popsicle forms. All the neighborhood kids hung out at our house.

She sat with me, and nursed me back to health when I had Scarlett Fever at seven years old. She would walk up to my school every day and get my first grade schoolwork. I missed almost the entire year.

She washed my mouth out MANY times with soap for being sassy.

She made every holiday a big hoopla. Parades with red,white and blue streamers on our bikes, watermelon eating contests (with no front teeth) and backyard fireworks for the fourth. Egg hunts and clues that lead us to HUGE elaborate baskets for Easter. Imaginatively wrapped presents (my name in red licorice whips, my sister’s in Hershey’s kisses) under a giant tree whose every branch was lit, ornamented and perfectly tinseled. Elves on shelves and Gumdrop villages. Cookies and milk for Santa, who left a ridiculously nasty mess of ashes and wood on Christmas morning.

She never gave us soda, so I got to sidestep that addiction.

An addiction she did introduce me to was the Rose Bowl Flea Market and my wallet has been the thinner for it.

She made sure my dad bought me a swing set after I escaped to a neighbor to swing on theirs.

She gave me an appreciation of history and current events.
She sat me down in front of our black and white TV for the 1968 Democratic Convention and corresponding riots, the Watts riots, the March on Washington,the astronauts stepping foot on the moon for the first time, the coverage of Apollo 13 and the funerals of President Kennedy, Martin Luther King Jr. And Bobby Kennedy (for whom she campaigned).
Classic mom phrase: Pay attention, this is history!

She always had the Dodger game on in the background……always. Still does.
Vin Scully’s voice is like a natural sedative to me.

She gave me books and talked with me about sex. (funny story alert)

She made sure I did my homework, polished my shoes, loaded the dishwasher and made my lunch in my Partridge Family lunch box (sigh) every night before I went to bed.
Often she would write me a love note on my napkin and sneak it inside before I left in the morning. I felt love and embarrassment at the same time, so I threw them away. But I did thank her now and then.
(I wish I’d kept them all)

She taught me how to: 
walk, talk, go potty in the potty, tie my shoes, ride a bike, tell time, read a book (I knew how to read before I entered kindergarten), change a diaper, burp a baby (my sister), set a table, say please and thank you, whisper, write a thank you note, braid hair, swim, roller skate, brush my teeth, paint my toenails, make chocolate chip cookies, wrap a present, embroider, climb a wall AND a tree, pick myself up and brush myself off, collect lady bugs, collect leaves for our silk worms, finish a puzzle, love cats, love food, love music, sing, clean a house, be on time, love the holidays (especially Christmas), weed a garden, trim a rosebush, body surf and love the beach. To name a few.

She thought I could DO anything and BE anything. She still does.
Thanks mom, I wouldn’t be who I am without you.
I love you.
Happy Mother’s Day!

Xox

*Occasionally I’ll be reprising some of the most popular posts from the past. Today there are actually two. My letter to money, and money’s response.
Enjoy!
XoxJanet

Dear Money,
I know our relationship has felt strained these last few years,
but we’ve always been so close and……..I miss you.
My darling Money……I think we should reconcile.
I know it looks like my life’s been all topsy turvy for a while now, and I seem like a bad risk, but I can assure you, I’ve worked really hard on myself and I’ve grown so much.
I feel like I can meet you half way. 
You must admit, you’ve been very elusive, really playing hard to get.
You barely even show your face, and when you do, I turn around and you’re gone.
That hurts, because I can still remember all the good times we had.
All that crazy spontaneous traveling we did together, remember Italy, with the shopping, and long lunches? 
You were always so there for me. I want to make more of those memories!
We even bought a house together for cryin’ out loud!
I think I showed my commitment to the long haul, what about you?
Sure, I’ve made a few mistakes, but who hasn’t!
We had “it” once and I think we can have “it” again.
That kind of relationship doesn’t just disappear.
My choices may have seemed questionable, but now, if you could just stick around for a while, you’d see how they’re all working out for me.
You’ve said in the past that I’m overly sensitive, but you’re the one who’s stayed away for so long…and without even a goodbye.
I’m willing to forgive, forget and move on…together, hand in hand…like the old days.
Take a few days to think about it…….I know how you are about change.

XoxJanet

Money’s Response
Earlier this month you wrote me a note, expressing your desire to reconcile.
My Darling, I never left you, you lost your faith and trust in ME.
Mistakes were made, c’est la vie!
I’m incapable of holding a grudge, yet, you doubt my devotion.
Believe me when I tell you:
I am here to help you.
I am here to support you in your endeavors.
I am trustworthy.
I can be counted on to show up in your life when needed.
There is more than enough of me to go around.
I’ll never let you down.
I want to help you, help others.
Don’t worry about me, I’m here.

Xox

Never Can Say Goodbye
Never can say goodbye
No, no, no, no
I never can say goodbye
I keep thinkin’ that our problems soon are all gonna work out
But there’s that same unhappy feelin’ there’s that anguish, there’s that doubt
It’s that same old dizzy hang-up can’t do with you or without,
Tell me why is it so?
“Never Can Say Goodbye” by The Jackson 5

The other night in our Women’s Group, we did a simple exercise.
We closed our eyes and surveyed a line of people that had played various roles in the movie of our lives. They were our bosses, co-workers, lovers, friends and family. We acknowledged them and the part they played. We took responsibility for our role, in order not to have to repeat that shit again. We blessed them and honored them for the lessons they imparted. We offered an apology or forgave them as needed. We wrote down their names. 
There were no running tackles, no hands around their necks, or endless strings of curse words.
It felt solemn and sacred. It was an exercise in clearing our pasts, in order to be free.

But something unexpected happened.
As we perused our lists, several of the suspects kind of stepped forward, in that criminal line up kind of way. One of the women looked up, amazed. “Can I just say something?” she asked, “There’s five or six people here who ALL have the same thing in common.”
“I struggled with endings………I never can say goodbye.” 
She elaborated, “None of the endings were elegant. Nothing was easy. Either I’m afraid to end the association, or I’m the one that won’t let go.” 
“One man napalmed our life, just to get out.”

All our mouths were hanging open. Another woman shook her head, “Me too, I don’t know how to end a job OR a relationship.
I stay in them wayyyyyy past the expiration date.”

I could relate.
I remind you all how my therapist cautioned me back In the day: “Janet, you don’t love, you take hostages. Watch that.”
Obviously, I wasn’t alone.

There are some people that cut and run at the first sign of trouble. I’ve dated them.
The opposite is true here. Trouble comes, sets up camp, builds a house, and stays………with a very convincing argument as to why we can’t kick them to the curb.
We buy the seat next to them on the GUILT TRAIN, listening to them explain how their “will to live” shall evaporate when we leave. Soon we can’t imagine our lives without this long expired person. They have become a bad habit.

A spiritual teacher back in the day, “T”, gave me stink eye as I whined about canceling dinner plans with a friend.
I wasn’t feeling it. It was a “school night” and I was just too tired. I worried that that wasn’t a legitimate reason to cancel. My friend would be mad at me for leaving them high and dry without dinner plans.
T} “That’s all ego, your friend will be fine. They’ll probably thank you.”
J} “Hey, thanks pal.”
T} “Your ego tells you that you are so important to the other persons happiness, that their evening will be ruined, when quite the opposite is true.”
J} “Fuck you.”
T} “Call her”
So, I called and sheepishly canceld. I may have even coughed, hinting at an oncoming cold. She was relieved. She’d had a hell day at work and all she wanted was a bottle of wine and a bubble bath. We cheerfully rescheduled.
T} “Works for relationships too”
J} “Don’t be a smug know it all”
But he did know a lot about this subject. And I slowly learned.

That ego is a shifty character.
He can show up in the disguise of kindness and loyalty. He convinces you to ignore your feelings, to be the people pleaser. He tells you you’re not a quitter, that you’re in it for the long haul. Sorry, but if it feels like a long haul to you, it does to the other person too.
Even if they’re begging you to stay, you’re just THEIR bad habit.

If you stand in your truth, that truth being that the relationship or job or whatever has run its course. If you use loving vocabulary, and come from the heart, an ending doesn’t have to be a cut that never heals. They will be fine. They will find someone who’s a better fit. And so will you. It’s the more loving act than “going for the long haul.”

The same holds true for anyone that you have handcuffed to a chair. If they want to go, let them go. Don’t even take it personally. It’s about them, just like you wanting to leave was about you.
Say goodbye…..so you can both regain that forward momentum in your lives, and break that bad habit.
It’s a Win/Win. I swear.

Do you have trouble saying goodbye? Have you stayed too long in a job or relationship because you were afraid of hurting the other person? Do you believe that it’s the ego at work? I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.

Xox

The Vessel Of Divine Mischief
This was on Caroline Myss’ Facebook page yesterday morning. She posts a prayer daily. I follow her because; well; because she rocks. I’ve read all her books and I’ve seen her speak many times. Her writings and lectures prompt profoundly deep and thoughtful soul work. It is neither frivolous nor trite. It is not for the dabbler. I know her to be easy to laugh in person, but not a cut up….AT ALL. There is no inner stand up comedian seeking an audience in Caroline. That’s why I loved this Soooooooo much.

Caroline’s Daily Prayer:
Today I ask for the courage to be a holy troublemaker, a vessel of divine mischief. People far too often assume that there is no humor in spiritual guidance, no “lightness in Light” but the truth is, it is we who are heavy, serious, and burdened by the fears that drape human existence. Let me be a vessel for divine mischief today.

Yes! SHAZAM! That is my mission statement. I am the vessel of divine mischief. My patron saints are:
Our Lady of Perpetual Naughtiness
Our Lady of Divine Irreverence
Our Lady of the Perpetual Potty Mouths
And finally: Our Ladies of General Bitchiness, Brattiness and Snarkiness
My divine mission is to deliver spiritual humor, because this shit can be mind numbingly serious. Don’t get me wrong, I have a deep respect for the material, I just think the delivery system can be lightened up a bit.
Yesterday, I went on WordPress Reader to look up the category of Spiritual Humor.
That is how I tag my blog. I wanted to see what the other vessels of divine mischief were up to. Guess what? I’m the only one.
What?
How can that be?
No other Holy Troublemakers?
That’s all at once awesome……and a crime.

When I first started writing, a year and change ago, it was very different. You can go way back and look. The writing was straightforward, clear and succinct. It wasn’t the least bit funny. The muse trolled my brain for wisdom accrued and then delivered it in the written word, without any trace of my personality whatsoever.
On a motorcycle ride in September of last year, we had a very close call.
(look up Total Loss of Control, the links are not working)
I was still posting every day, so I told the muse to write about the experience. She put out her cigarette in her gin and tonic, gave me the once over and told ME to write it: In my own words. People dig that shit.
Gulp

As I’ve continued to use more of my own life experiences and continue to write in my own voice, that naughty, sassy, funny part of me has shown up.
I’ve become the vessel of divine mischief.
What I write may sometimes be inappropriate and I might not appeal to everyone. Do I want to appeal to everyone? Most certainly not.
I’ve gotten the courage to be the Holy Troublemaker for all the world to read.

When I tell people at dinner parties that I write a Spiritual Humor blog, they look……relieved.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love Deepak, Eckart and Marianne, but man, they can be intense.” they’ll lean in and whisper, while chewing in my ear.
I agree. This was the blog I wanted to read, so I had to write it.
People DO dig this shit, and I dig you people.

I worship at the altar of several other writers who I think should be in the Spiritual Humor category, even the Hall Of Fame.
Anne Lamott, Tosha Siver, and Liz Gilbert. I also love anything the late Nora Ephron ever wrote. She would have killed it in this category. But at least on WordPress for right now, I have it to myself.

Tell me, do you love yourselves some spiritual humor? Since you’re here, I’m guessing you do. Does it make it easier to digest? What’s off limits? Anything?
I’d love to hear about it in the comments below.

Xox

“As you begin to take action toward the fulfillment of your goals and dreams, you must realize that not every action will be perfect. Not every action will produce the desired result. Not every action will work. Making mistakes, getting it almost right, and experimenting to see what happens are all part of the process of eventually getting it right.”
– Jack Canfield

Oh God, here I go again…experimenting, making mistakes, almost getting it right…Crap!

As Monday approaches, which is the day my online business class starts,
I’m getting a stomach ache. Maybe a headache too. Yeah, definitely head ache.

Why you ask? Because of my expectations!
They started off strong, which is par for the course for me.
I devoured all the pre-class curriculum, watched the videos…twice; then I got to the parts I just didn’t understand, and I got frustrated. 
” Go big, or go home!” has often been my battle cry. But that was in the ventures where I knew my shit.
Now, I’m WAYYYYYYYYY out of my league, and I want to go to bed.

That all got me to thinking about expectations. 
I’m expecting everything to be over my head.
I’m expecting that I will not understand analytics, web design, content blah blah, and all that jazz.

I’m expecting to be asked to build a rocket ship from popsicle sticks, some gum and a flashlight.
I don’t understand how televisions work and planes fly. I know it’s something about capturing pixels and aerodynamics, but it’s all just a miracle to me.
So is the internet.
And I’m about to go behind the curtain and see how it all functions.
Then, I’m going to learn how to finagle and manipulate it.
Then I’m going to rule the world! Mwaaaahaaahaa!
Expectations too high?

See? My expectations have run amok. I vacillate between knowing I’m gonna suck, to thinking I’m the next Mark Zuckerberg.
Damn you expectations!
Do you do that too?

I have until Monday to stop being so expectation-ally schizophrenic and get a more realistic grip on them.
Then I need to just be okay being a student.
I can’t be good at all this stuff, because it’s all NEW to me. Some things I’m going to grasp right away, and love them because they make me feel smart.
I expect a great majority of the material will read like Greek to me, and I’m gonna suck.
I’m expecting a lot of tears…Because that’s what I do when I get frustrated.

So stay tuned. This should get interesting, funny and soggy.

This blog will soon become part of a website. I expect it to be…great.
You will all get to witness this transformation in the coming months, and I know you’ll weigh in 🙂
There will be two, maybe three books available. They’ll be compiled from the over 400 blog posts I’ve written so far.
Hey! Email me your preference for the first book, will ya? Atikhome@me.com
1) The poignant posts with a message and the poems.
Or…
2) The more humorous posts.

I know you’ll be honest with me, because…
I expect nothing less.

XoxJanet