advice

I saw it when I opened the drawer to get my gardening gloves yesterday.

I was cleaning up after the wind. He has made quite a mess in both my front and back yards the last few days. A fine layer of dirt covering every surface. Leaves, twigs, feathers and discarded cigarette butts lay strewn around and piled up in corners.

We don’t smoke.

My Muse does, so I suppose they’re hers. I’ll have to look for the telltale red lipstick.

The wind always does this the day AFTER the gardener comes. NEVER the day before. He has a twisted sense of humor, he thinks it’s ironic.

It always starts the same way. I pick up a stray piece of trash that has found its way onto the porch. I’m usually in my morning get-up of a combination of pajamas, sweats and flip-flops. Next thing I know, it’s four hours later and I’ve cleaned the gutters and power washed the place. I loose complete track of time and ruin my manicure. This time, about an hour and a half in, it occurred to me to get my gloves.

Sometimes I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed.

So…..I open the drawer of a little table outside.
It sits under the dining room windows and contains a trowel, clippers, gloves and other assorted yard taming junk.

And there it was……a perfect bird’s nest. Tucked inside this shallow drawer, next to a box of stick matches.(see photo).

My heart skipped a beat as I just about lost my mind with delight.

The thing is, I collect birds nests. I have a couple of hummingbird and five or six regular ones of various sizes.

I also believe they’re good luck. It’s a positive sign.
Protection…safety…being looked after.
Shit. Who doesn’t want that?

My husband just shakes his head.
Hey honey — Don’t be a buzz kill.

So many things crossed my mind as I gently removed it from its perfect hiding place.
The mama did a magnificent job.

It was big and warm and cozy. It’s a masterpiece, that nest-in-a-drawer. Truly one of Mother Nature’s miracles.

I remember seeing her, this tiny mama bird, outside the window, gathering bits of home building materials while singing her lovely melody. I’ve decided she’s my hero.

I sit every day writing, just on the other side of her temporary home. I could hear the babies. A couple of weeks ago, they were so vocal I went out and looked up in the trees for a nest. It never occurred to me to look in the drawer.

Note to self: I’ve GOT to develop an imagination. That bird has really raised the bar around here.

Two days ago I came across the body of a little tiny baby bird in another part of the yard. It was right under a tree and I could see the remnants of its nest high above my head. That baby had not fallen out. It was pushed. Probably by a crow.

The crows can be jerks. They dive bomb my dogs. I’ve seen them bully the smaller birds.

That made the nest-in-a-drawer even that much more ingeniously resourceful.
“Not on my watch, asshole” was the message it sent.

Don’t you love nature?
Don’t you love tenacious mothering?
Don’t you love gifts, beautiful little surprises?
I do.

This was a great reminder to appreciate the little things in life. If we are present and look closely, they are all around. These tiny wonders.

And….one more reason to love Saturdays.

Xox

Post Script: I’m reprising this post from last May because I opened the drawer this past Saturday to find she had built the second nest-in-a-drawer in as many years.(See below) I’m dying to meet her and take her for coffee. Honest to God, she’s my hero.
Carry on,
xox

Another giant masterpiece found this week. I am rich in bird’s nests.
(yelp)

Bam!
Just like that on a Sunday morning, something to ponder. You can count on me for that…

So…which will it be today? Courage…or Comfort?
What about tomorrow?
…and the next day?

Carry on,
xox

* This is a brand new post by my latest astrology addiction: Kate Rose.
As I read it I just kept saying: AMEN and I think you will too.
We are all MORE than ready to make the changes required for our futures to begin — Can I get an AMEN?
Carry On you guys,
xox

NEW MOON IN GEMINI — WE ARE FINALLY READY FOR A CHANGE!
BY KATE ROSE

This new moon in Gemini on June 16th is all about finally being ready to embrace change!

We have had some very powerful full moons the past few lunar cycles, and while they tend to be most noticed because of their obvious effects on our lives, new moons are just as important because it is here that the seeds of change are planted.

New moons are very special times in astrology. While full moons call us to action and to step outside of our comfort zones, new moons tend to have us retreat and become more introspective. This is the time when we may crave solitude—especially enjoying quiet moments in nature.

It is also during the darkened skies that the seeds of change are planted.

This new moon on the 16th is very special, it comes right after our full moon in Sagittarius that was all about new beginnings. But new beginnings can be scary, and sometimes our egos question us as to if we are ready.

Next week, we will not only think we are ready—we will know we are.

We have been gathering information in the past few weeks since the last full moon, but because Mercury has been retrograde we haven’t been able to take what we’ve learned and either communicate that to others, or make the physical changes necessary to manifest it.

All that is about to change.

Gemini is about taking information and channeling that into positive action. Once Mercury turns direct we will begin thinking more clearly about all that we have been absorbing and learning the past few weeks. Topics that most likely will come up are long-term career goals—especially of an entrepreneurial nature, and romantic relationships.

Gemini is a sign that is quick-thinking and independent, they also are great self-starters, and usually do best multitasking. In combination with the new moon energy and Mercury just having turned direct we are going to be inspired to set off on our own career path. Maybe we’ve been considering starting up our own business, or begin working on a creative endeavor such as a writing a book. This new moon is going to give us the confidence and the get-up-and-go initiative to make our dreams a reality!

Gemini is represented by the twins, and embodies the ying/yang energy––it is also the sign of Twin Flames. Even the symbol of the sign is identical to 11, which is an important numerology aspect of the Twin Flames. This moon has the ability to shake things up a bit romantically; it’s best to take the next week or so and enjoy life as it currently is because things are about to change––and in a big way!

The ruling planet for Gemini is Mercury which turns direct on June 12th, but Mars will also be hanging out in that same sign. Get ready for some fireworks! Mars is the planet of passion, of decisive action and urgency. We are sick of being patient and in a week or so, it will be nothing but a distant memory (alleluia!).

Sometimes, we like to make quiet slow changes, like the past full moons. They were deliberate, mature, rational decisions. This time though, we will have grown tired of waiting, and realize that there isn’t much point in it any longer.

We will want the future to begin today!

For the first time in a long time we actually feel ready for change! Not only that, but we are clear about why we want it, and how best to manifest it. There is no sitting on the fence about this, our heads and our hearts are clear about what direction we need and want to move in…and we will feel the confidence in doing so.

We have been asking a lot of our hearts lately. We have been digging to the depths of them, removing the cobwebs and seeing what makes them tick. It’s been frustrating this past month because we haven’t been able to take our thoughts and feelings and put them to words. All that is coming to an end as Mars in Gemini is going to give us the drive and passion to say exactly what we want and what we are feeling.

The time for waiting has come to an end. Even though we usually tend to be more relaxed and calm at new moons, don’t be surprised if in the next week you find yourself unable to sleep. We are antsy at the exciting changes that we can feel are just on the horizon and within reach.

Although we feel peaceful and relaxed because we have taken the necessary steps to learn all we can, and to process whatever that means for us, we simply can’t wait any longer.

Not only are we ready for change, but we want it now.

New Moon Ritual:(You know me I LOVE a good ritual-JB)

While we can plant seeds of change in our minds and hearts during this time, it’s actually a wonderful time to manifest these dreams and wishes out into the universe.

What to do:

On the paper write your intentions or wishes that you would like to come true––write from the heart. Then take the paper and fold three times, and tie the twine around the paper. Bury it into the dirt, plant your seeds and then water.

As your actual seeds begin to grow so will your intentions that you set. Be aware that most of the seeds of change that are planted like this take at least three lunar cycles to manifest, so have patience with yourself and with the universe.

*Kate Rose is an artist, free-thinker, lover, writer, passionate yogi, teacher, mother, rule breaker and rebel. She can usually be found walking barefoot in the moonlight between worlds with the dreams of stars still hanging in her hair while swaying her hips to the music of life; smelling of sweet bourbon and honeysuckle. She lives for adventure and wakes each morning with the excitement of a new day waiting to unfold at her feet. She truly believes the best is yet to come and waits, with bated breath, to see what it may hold. Follow her on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram, and find more of her words on her website.

http://wordsofkaterose.com

This is from last summer but I like it — which is rare.
Happy Friday!
xox

At the center of your being you have the answer; you know who you are, and what you want
~ Lao Tzu

I can remember doing this exercise in one of Diana’s meditation workshops years ago after I had read about it in a book from my long distant past (please don’t ask me which one, that I can’t remember) I just remember being gobsmacked over the realization that the cells of my body may collectively know more than my brain, how I actually feel about things – so we tried it.

We being the women in the Wednesday group, and no men, you don’t need a uterus to try this exercise although it IS about observing the reaction your body has to certain words.

As a matter of fact one of my male friends says his butt puckers up.
Ha! I’ve got ya now…….keep reading, you’ll understand in a minute.

Words carry energy, on that we all agree, correcto?

Certain words can either feel expansive or contracting.

Expansive words/energy have to do with keeping your heart open, being receptive, being vulnerable.
Arms uncrossed, face and upper body open.

Contracting words/energy are all about fear, suppression, closing the gate, hoisting up the drawbridge and filling the moat with water – and a dragon.
Gathering in, armoring up and closing down.

Try this out, it’s visceral, the change may be subtle, but you will feel SOMETHING,
And that feeling is what you want to be on the lookout for.
Here goes. Say the word aloud:

Cancer
Money
Vacation
Commitment
Puppy
Deadline
Hospital
I Love you
Snake
Failure
Hate
I’m proud of you
Idiot

Did you feel it, that very subtle, or not so subtle opening and closing reaction as your body feeeeeeeels the energy of each word?

If you’re a doctor the word hospital probably won’t trigger you negatively, although, if someone says to you: They had to rush Timmy to the hospital!
I doubt you’ll feel nothing.

The same thing with money. It can have a very expansive feeling for some, and make others want to jump off a bridge.
That word has felt different ways to me at different times in my life, same word, just different energy.

Puppy is a mixed word for me nowadays also. 😉

Snakes? Snakes make me shiver. ‘Nuf said.

Remember: Language is a powerful thing, it can harm people as efficiently as a weapon, or raise someone’s soul to new heights, so be careful – really.

It can also give you the insight you need when your mind is chewing on a problem like a dog with a bone.

Say the word or words that coincide with what you’re thinking about out loud, and see how it feels in your body. Voila! There’s your answer.

I quit
I’m pregnant
Marry me
Let’s move
I’m leaving
I’m sorry

It’s a good one, I know!
Keep practicing and you’ll get better and better at figuring out how you REALLY feel about things.

If you feel inclined to comment, please do below. Remember the tribe learns a lot when you share from the heart.

Much love,
xox

It was heavier than I had imagined, and it left little bits of…something…all over the front of me, as a lovely parting gift.

“There.” I said after I dropped it down and kicked it into place. A brand new doormat large enough for the double front doors of the house rental project I’m working on.

As per my instructions: No flowers, no bright colors, nothing cutesy, completely inoffensive.
Just a simple tan-colored mat made of choir with a thin border and the word WELCOME in black. Not even a dark sinister black. A hue of medium blackish. A happy black, if you will.

“Oh my Gawd, I love everything!” she squealed.
We were near the end of this hellacious project and one of the principles had just finished a self guided tour of the place.

With such a limited budget the transformation was nothing short of amazing.

You could say it was alchemy. I’d call it a miracle. Right up there with turning water into wine, straw into gold, Bruce into Caitlyn.

“Oh, except that. I don’t like that at all.” All the gushing had stopped dead.
I turned my head to see what she was pointing and glaring at. Her response was definitive and whatever it was — Had. To. Go.

It was the freakin’ doormat.

“I hate when they say welcome.” she pronounced. “Take it back and get a plain one. No WELCOME.” and with that she went back inside and the gushing resumed.

It never occurred to me that the word WELCOME on a front doormat could elicit such a strong reaction.

Interesting…

“You’re right…you’re right.” I replied, struggling to pick up the mat and carry it back to the truck, thinking of my own bright blue front door mat that says HELLO in friendly white cursive.

Feeling rejected, the ginormous WELCOME mat put up a struggle going back to the truck and I was out of breath.
“They should start a line of doormats that read GO AWAY or DON’T BOTHER ME or GET OUT OF HERE. Someone is missing out on a fortune.” I gasped.

I figured I was far enough away that she couldn’t hear me, but from inside I heard laughter. “I’d buy those.” I heard her say.

Huh.

You Are Not Welcome.

The insight hit me like a bolt of lightning.

Maybe you can tell a lot about a person by their front door mat.

Some people, this woman included, do not lay out the welcome mat.
Not ever.
Not to their home, their feelings, their story or their life.

They are private and guarded and I get it.
Obviously that is a land I do not inhabit — but I read her loud and clear.

From where she stands WELCOME in friendly black letters — is a dirty word.

It was right then that the entire project began to make sense.
All white, beige and taupe.
No color.
Nothing with any personality.
Key word: Utilitarian.

Nothing offends, nothing makes an impression — it is a blank slate.

You know what? She’s right. It’s a rental.
Don’t leave anything of yourself behind. No clues to who you might be or what you like.
A brightly colored pillow belies whimsy, a choice of art shows your taste.

Don’t give yourself away to strangers and for Godsakes — no Welcome mats.

Oh well, to each his own.
Carry on,
xox

Do you have an aversion to WELCOME mats? Are you that private and guarded? Talk to me.

Hey Guys,
With the current, crazy, clean out the fridge of the smelly stuff in the waaaaay back energy out there; there is some residual pain coming up.
Or is it new pain?
Doesn’t matter. Pain is pain and it hurts like hell.

This is a great essay by Danielle LaPorte (she’s the boss) about this very subject. It is direct and to the point (just like we count on Danielle to be) no butterflies or rainbows — just truth.
I think you guys can handle that.
Love you BIG,
xox

Take it away Danielle:

Current Pain or Departing Pain? How to access your agony.

There is the pain you feel because it’s deep in your being, in real-time, working on you.

Current Pain and Departing Pain.

Current pain is the hurt you’re carrying with you today. It’s in the vicinity of your core. It doesn’t matter when the pain was inflicted — a few days ago in a meeting, or ongoingly in the way your partner withholds, or by a past childhood trauma. Lingering or acute, if it’s affecting you now — if you’re still healing, it’s real time pain.

Departing pain is, as it suggests, on it’s way out. It’s your current pain transforming, loosening, lifting. And Lord have mercy, this is just what you want to have happen — for the pain to leave you.

Except… departing pain isn’t any lighter or easier as it leaves your system. In fact, on it’s way out, departing pain can be wretched. It’s like the last few heaves of getting poison out of your system. Just when you thought you’d purged it all, your body lurches with one more hurl to make sure the toxins are good an’ gone. That last lurch can catch you off guard. Where did that come from? And it’s … extra painful.

Assessing your pain

So here’s what to do when you’re in pain: Identify if you’re in Current Pain or Departing Pain. Current pain says: I’m dealing with the pain. This pain needs my attention. Departing pain says: I’ve learned all I can from this pain. I’m letting go. This pain is leaving me.

Do you need more healing time?

Current pain needs time — a few weeks… a few decades, such is life. It requires tears and therapeutic conversations, pilgrimages and fires. It’s the spirit’s creative tension. It’s the recovery process we’re in. It’s what we’re managing to varying degrees of stifling darkness to occasionally triggered sadness.

Departing pain comes after you’ve fully felt the current pain. Let me say that another way: The pain starts to lift after you’ve gone through it. Let me put that differently: Once you’ve gone down with the pain, examined it, smelled it, talked to it, squeezed it, then it’s done it’s job and it’s ready to fully transform. One more time: Feel it to free it.

Are you ready? (Get ready because it’s going to hurt more. But it’s good.)

Let’s say you’ve done the work. You’ve felt that pain (you’re amazing and courageous). You learned so much from that pain. You’re so damn DONE with that pain. You’re feeling so free, so present, so moved on and then…WHAM. More of the SAME pain. What the hell?! Didn’t you work through this already? You were doing so well and then you want to curl up in a ball or break something. Isn’t this over with yet? (Yes, almost.)

Departing pain tends to catch you off guard. Which makes you get all judgey with yourself because you’ve come so far. Expansion/contraction. Expansion/contraction.

If you’re in Current pain over something, you’re going to keep doing your healing work. Keep calm and call your shaman. You can do this.

Or if you’re in Departing Pain, here’s what you’re going to do: You’re going to not judge yourself for being pathetic. You’re going to feel the pain like a champ. And you’re going to start making celebration plans because you are crossing the finish line. The pain is leaving! It’s never going to be this bad again!

When you’re in pain, you have to feel it to free it.

Take heart! The final round of agony is a purification process.tweet It’s not wounding you deeper, it’s cleaning you as it says goodbye. You’re not stuck, you’re about to fly — higher than ever.
Please be encouraging. We all need more of it. Forward this piece to someone who is in the throes.

All Love,
Danielle

www.daniellelaporte.com

I remember a photo shoot back in my acting days. I had saved enough money, and I was lucky enough to book the guy for commercial head shots.

You know head shots – they are close-up photos of your face taken from the shoulders up. Big smile, sad frown, head tilted, hand to chin for a curious expression—you get the idea. It gives all the powers-that-be an idea of your “range”.

“Oh look, she can smile AND be sad, what a range! She’s amaaaazing, bring her to me!”

This guy was only about five years older than I was at the time so, under thirty, and was probably born in Toledo Ohio, but he thought he was Francesco Scavullo (look him up), with the faux accent and orange tan.

“Gorgeous dahling…head up…beautiful…chin down…stunning!”

His approval washed over me like a warm wave of maple syrupy love.
I felt beautiful. Like a high-fashion glamazon at the top of her game, that is until…(screech of a needle across a vinyl record. What? You’re too young to know what that sounds like? Get off my blog!)

“Dahling” he was now eyeballing me up and down, no more camera, with one hand on his hip, another lifted to his chin, eyes squinted. I was still blinded by the flash so I’m sure I looked daft.

“Oh you know what I wish more than anything?” he asked, never waiting for me to answer.

“Oh, how I wish your legs were just four inches longer.”

What? You wish that more than anything? Really? More than world peace or a penis that was four inches longer? Are you sure? Do you want to rethink that statement? I think you misspoke.

And you do remember this is a head shot? At least that’s what I thought silently in my head.

“Um, you know that’s impossible, right?” I stammered, tears welling in my eyes, the blind and daffy smile now wiped completely from my face.

I started to feel like a troll. A two foot tall, horrendously ugly troll. One minute I’m Cindy Crawford,the next I’m looking for a bridge to guard.

I was a pleaser back then, and I wanted nothing more than to make him happy, AND I wanted the warm and gooey love wash to continue into perpetuity.

“Maybe I can stand differently, or put on a higher pair of heels?” I inquired awkwardly. Desperation was seeping in.

He kind of huffed a disappointed sigh, “No dahling” he cooed in his make-believe accent, “you’ll always be too short.”

For what? Too short for what? I’m 5’5”…
Professional basketball?
Picking fruit off the tops of trees?
Thigh-high boot modeling?

I knew right then that the fake little fucker was full of shit—but it still stung.

Not always the most well-intentioned people wanting the impossible from us.

I recently helped some extended family with a home design job.
I thought those days were over for me but they needed some help preparing a rental from scratch, I can do that sort of thing in my sleep, and I welcomed the distraction.

The thing was, the budget took a hit almost immediately. Cut by half. And it was…frugal to begin with.

An entire three bedroom house, from beds and mattresses, to the utensils, toothbrush holders, towels, sheets and all the kitchen stuff for ten thousand dollars.

You can cut corners when it’s your own home, but if you want to ask top dollar for a home in a high-end neighborhood, it requires certain things.

Like a decent coffee maker and a nice bar-b-que, comfortable patio furniture and three high-definition T.V.’s

I practically slept at Ikea, Target, and Homegoods. Sourcing and searching, driving, shopping, and returning.

My people are academics (which is why they needed help), and I could see the toll the stress of a home make-over was taking on them.

They hadn’t put together a house from scratch, well…ever. Just like most of us, when they started out they had a mix and match combination of wedding presents and hand-me-downs.

Here’s what I knew: I knew the task was impossible.
I knew we could get close, but in the end I knew we’d have to ask the purse string holders for more money.
I also knew that at that point we’d be in so deep — they couldn’t refuse. We’d have to finish.

Oh, did I fail to mention we had a deadline. Three weeks.
So everything had to be cash and carry. No special orders, no four-week turn arounds for the size or color we needed. Like I said IMPOSSIBLE task.

But you know what? They didn’t know that. At least not until I told them.
They had been feeling so incompetent, so shitty about their ability to stay in the budget—it was as if they had been asked to become four inches taller.

“Um, you guys know what we’ve been asked to do is an impossible task, right?” I interrupted another extremely tense phone conversation, grabbing the telephone and holding it close so the three of us could talk.

“Guys, you haven’t done this as much as I have.” I was trying to sound reassuring.“They gave us a completely unrealistic budget, which we will exceed…but not by much, and we should all be very proud of ourselves.”

Then I walked away with the phone in order to get through to the rocket scientist of the trio — the one who’s head was ready to explode from having to deal with family money, design by committee dynamics, and too many white paint color choices, (it really is absurd —there are over five hundred different shades of white).

“Listen,” I said in the calmest tone of voice I could muster. “Imagine being given an unsolvable math equation.”

“There are no unsolvable equations, Einstein said…”

I interrupted. “Humor me goddammit.” he went silent.

“The reason we can’t make this work isn’t because we’re stupid, or we suck — it’s because the problem is unsolvable — you absolutely cannot do what is required by the rental agency for that amount of money.
The. End.”

He was still quiet, I kept talking, hoping he hadn’t succumbed to a brain hemorrhage.

“We all have to chill out and keep going. We’re almost at the finish line. Besides, we can’t grow taller than we already are.”

“What?”

“Nevermind. Don’t you like knowing that? That the request is flawed — not you?”


“Sure, I guess… I mean, I figured if they told us ten thousand, it must be doable.”

“They might as well have said ten dollars.” I could hear him get that.

“Ohhhhhh, so you mean…”

“YES!” I screamed excitedly into the phone, “Exactly! So stop stressing!”

Not always the most well-intentioned people wanting the impossible from us = Stress, despair, unhappiness.

Figuring out they’re full of shit = PRICELESS.

Carry on my loves,
xox

Remember permission slips?

Those signed (or forged) whichever the case may be; pieces of paper that granted us access to off the grid childhood activities?
Weekend trips with Girl Scouts, grade school field trips to museums or the Observatory, Wednesday McDonald’s hamburger lunches in sixth grade?

Proudly, I had my dad’s signature down pat, the giant R of Roy with the straight tail of the Y, ending downward, no curling back up, no frills at all, very masculine, completely unlike my own girly sixth grade cursive; so occasionally, even though I had brought my delicious Spam with mustard on Wonder Bread sandwich in my Partridge Family lunch box for lunch that Wednesday, I’d permission slip myself a burger.

Forging (not to be confused with foraging) for food……hmmmmmm I’m sure there’s some deep hidden meaning in there.

Anyway…….
Brene Brown talks about writing HERSELF permission slips.

I LOVE that idea.

When she was on Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday, she had one tucked inside the pocket of her jean jacket.

It read: I give you permission to be excited, goofy and uncool.
Just show up and be seen.

From what I observed she didn’t get too giggly or over stare, she had her occasional “Holy Shit, I’m sitting with Oprah” moments and they felt completely authentic and actually a bit brave.
She didn’t pretend “Oh hey, no big deal, I’m fine, I’m cool.”

As the story goes, after the show she heard that Maya Angelou was in another part of the building recording some audio poems. So instead of nonchalantly replying: “Oh, that’s nice” she abandoned cool once again and told Oprah how much she admired Dr Angelou.
After all, she still had the permission slip in her pocket; and as is often the case, the Universe rewards genuineness.
Oprah asked if she’d like to meet Dr. Angelou.

Hell yeah! (My words – just guessing)

Here are her feelings about the encounter in her own words:
“So grateful that I got to meet Dr. Angelou, look her in the eye, and tell her what her work means to me. When I told her that I love playing her reading of “I shall not be moved” for my students and children, she grabbed my hand and sang, “Like a tree planted by the river, I shall not be moved.” It was a sacred moment.”

Just imagine if she’d brushed off the mention of Maya Angelou with a Too Cool For School attitude, she would have missed that once in a lifetime moment.

How many wonderful, sacred, ridiculously epic moments do we circumvent due to our habit of playing it cool?

How many beautiful creations do we talk ourselves out of?

How many people do we meet and feel a connection with……and do nothing?

How many books are unwritten, paintings un painted, businesses un started and plans unhatched because we lack the courage?

Maybe all we need is PERMISSION.

I for one, have started her practice of the permission slip.

Here are some I’ve written lately:

I give myself permission to not always know what I’m doing.
I give myself permission to play more.
I give myself permission to suck while writing the book.
I give myself permission to be happy even though I don’t have a “job”
I give myself permission to not like everyone

If you Google BRENE BROWN PERMISSION SLIPS and look at images, there are hundreds of ideas if you have trouble getting started.

I’d LOVE it if you’d write at least one thing in the comments. Tell me, share, you’ll give other people the courage to do it and maybe give them a few ideas too.

Go ahead –
I give myself permission to__________________.

I give myself permission to adore you guys,
Xox

Today I heard the most beautiful Buddhist meditation/prayer for fear.

It is recited by Colleen Saidman Yee at the end of her yoga classes.
I just love it and I thought you would too.

Here are her words.

“It goes something like this: Sit down and notice where you hold your fear in your body.
Notice where it feels hard, and sit with it. In the middle of hardness is anger.

Go to the center of anger and you’ll usually come to sadness.
Stay with sadness until it turns to vulnerability.

Keep sitting with what comes up; the deeper you dig, the more tender you become.
Raw fear can open into the wide expanse of genuineness, compassion, gratitude, and expectancy in the present moment.

A tender heart appears naturally when you are able to stay present.

From your heart you can see the true pigment of the sky. You can see the vibrant yellow of a sunflower and the deep blue of your daughter’s eyes.

A tender heart doesn’t block out rain clouds, or tears, or dying sunflowers.
Allow beauty and sadness to touch you.
This is love, not fear.”

Isn’t that beautiful you guys?
Happy weekend,
xox

You can catch Colleen’s entire interview with Marie Forleo and hear her say the prayer on my Facebook page:
https://www.facebook.com/Theobserversvoice

Colleen’s new book:
Yoga for Life
A Journey to Inner Peace and Freedom

http://books.simonandschuster.com/Yoga-for-Life/Colleen-Saidman-Yee/9781476776781

GULLIBLE
gul·li·ble
adjective
Easily persuaded to believe something; credulous.

synonyms: credulous, naive, over trusting, over trustful, easily deceived, easily taken in, exploitable, dupable, impressionable, unsuspecting, unsuspicious, unwary, ingenuous, innocent, inexperienced, unworldly, green

I have a real problem with…bending the truth.

Never mind that, let’s call it what it is: lying.

I was slow to learn that deception can be so blatant. But I did…eventually.

Now you can deliver an untruth to me on a silver platter, but I’ll still call bullshit on it all day long. Why?
Um…because it’s a lie!

Here’s what I mean.

People that accept all the accolades and compliments because they look so goddamn great for their age — that have clearly had surgical help.
Pahleeeeez!

Mascara commercials where the actress is very obviously wearing false eyelashes.
Come on.

A twenty-eight year old, airbrushed within an inch of her life, pitching us fifty something’s wrinkle cream. “Gee, maybe I’ll look like that if I spend one hundred dollars for an ounce of this magical concoction made from the frothy uterine lining of a unicorn.”

What do you take me for, a fucking moron?
Just how gullible do you think I am?

What about vacation rental listings?

Cozy little cottage by the beach.

The pictures online look idyllic.
“You’re so lucky it’s still available”, the woman gushes over the phone. The word miracle is even used, and you know how that gets me going.

So I plunk down a hefty chunk of change and when I arrive at the destination I’m convinced Garmin is stoned.
“The destination is on your right.”

“Stop it Garmin, don’t fuck with me! I just drove six hours and I’ve gotta pee like a racehorse.”

I blink, then blink again, slowly sliding my sunglasses down my nose to get a clearer view. Then I roll down the window.
Still sucks.
EJECT — Out comes the CD. There is no soundtrack for moments like this.
I want to vomit.

There it is in front of me, all set for our Labor Day weekend pleasure.

An itty-bitty shit hole of a shack. Over a mile away from the beach. There aren’t even seagulls overhead or any traffic, that’s how far away my beach cottage is from actual sand and surf.

I fumble inside my beach bag which is doubling as my purse for the weekend. Lost inside is the printout from the agency, never taking my eyes off the disaster in front of me, I find it.

I’m in shock, it’s a train wreak — therefore it’s impossible to look away.

That’s when I realize that mid road trip, (probably about the time I was reaching for change at Foster Freeze), my sunscreen opened and has thoughtfully covered pretty much everything in my bag with its SPF 50.

Even so, I can still make out the address. 12 Gorgeous Vista Road.
It’s a match, but it ain’t gorgeous and it has no vista to speak of.

Fuck. Even the name of the street tells a lie.

It is smaller than my first single apartment, yet it says right on the page in front of me: sleeps six.
My mind leaps ahead a few hours. Fitting all of my friends inside that shack will be like stuffing a clown car.

What to do, what to do?
See, here’s the problem: who do I kill first?

The gullible one who drank the rental agency Kool-Aid (me), the crazy red-head at the agency who was so chirpy as she handed me the keys? (Sucker, that’s what it says on my form in her office — I’m sure of it — Sucker Bertolus.)

The pimply faced guy at the car rental agency who said it wasn’t far, (it was) and that it was in a great neighborhood (it isn’t)?

It’s clear to me now that they are all in cahoots.

Wait…was that a gunshot?

Window…up.

What about all those helpful friends who gave me the name of this agency and had such glowing vacation house stories?

They all get to live.
It was me. It was my fault.
I was over trusting and easily exploitable.

I should be in every advertising test group. I’m their target idiot audience.

I made a vow right then and there that I would never fall for that sort of LIE again. That I would pay the other half of the deposit after I saw the property, and that I would carry a separate smaller purse inside my beach bag.

Just like I wanted to believe that the last available house on a holiday weekend was Shangra-fucking-La, I want to believe that a mascara can give you the same lush lashes as two pairs of falsies, (I have a drawer full of both), and that applying an expensive miracle cream will erase fifty-seven years of laugh lines, (same drawer).

Am I gullible or have I been lied to? What do you think? Both?

How gullible are you guys? Stories please.

Carry on,
Xox