Honest Mirrors

She was full of life, a spark of joy and wonder, and she hung on me like a baby bird. I adored her and she always wrote loving cards and pictures for me. One day she looked at me with the loving eyes she always does, and I expected her to say "I was her big shining star". A phrase she had said to me many times, and even written on cards, but  she calmly and non-judgmentally said "Simone, why come you never brush your hair?" I froze for a moment and realized that not only had it not occurred to me that my hair grooming was unruly, but that I wasn't even particularly sure how to answer that question. Should I be offended? Should I come up with a well constructed defense mechanism for my appearance? I didn't know. Then a flash came across my mind and I wondered for a moment if everyone close to me secretly wondered this. My physiologist parents sitting at the dining room table shaking their heads, "She has done well, but why come she doesn't brush her hair?" I was presented with an honest mirror. I realized in that second two very simple things. One, why I seek time with youth no matter what I may have going on in my life. They are very real, and the joy and humility in that makes you aware of yourself, and the world, and all things that matter. And, two, there is a part of me that likes to be slightly untamed and this is why I may unconsciously not tend to every hair on my head. I had a response for her. " Well, I like to be a little wild, like a lion with a big mane." And I took my hands and playfully swatted at her like a cat and roared. She nestled her head into my chest and then said "I still love you anyway" and with that she ran off to play. I walked home feeling a little lighter that day. I was seen for my weaknesses, it was brought to my attention, I was accepted for them, and that made me love myself and the world a little bit more. I may have even roared at an in-expecting neighbor on the walk home, just to own my new found self awareness a bit more. 

F.L.O.W.

F. L. O. W. Following Life's Original Way. Each person has a path, a unique gift, and a way towards their truth. There is a reason why you are here, and there is something you love to be and do more then anything on the planet. This is what you are supposed to do. You loose all sense of time and space when you do it, it is productive, it is healthy, it helps others. It may be a strange mix of many things, it may be linear, it doesn't matter. This is your path and your vision here on earth. Trust it, listen to it, find it. It doesn't matter if it makes sense to the world, or if it is different then what everyone expects from you. You will know when you are in F.L.O.W. if you listen to it it is quite easy, it feels like riding with the waves, sanding with the grain, sailing with the wind, running with the bulls...go get in the FLOW...

Is that a tissue in your pocket?

I was standing at a bus stop. It was cold. It was raining. I needed a tissue. I looked in my backpack, no tissue. My purse, no tissue. I stood there trying to snuffle myself into comfort. I looked at the restaurant across the street, maybe they had napkins I could use. I looked at my phone, the bus was supposed to come any minute, but they weren't always on schedule. I didn't dare miss it. I asked someone standing next to me for a tissue. No luck. I waited almost a half hour trying not to breath for fear all sorts of stuff would drip down my face and put me in even more agony. The bus came. I sat on the bus. I road it till I got home. I walked to my front door. I looked in my coat pocket for house keys. I found a tissue.

This is how most of us go through life. In pain, looking for what we think we need that will make us finally feel better, you already have it in your pocket. Check your own life pockets first, you may find that you already have what you are looking for.

The Non-Drinking Drunk

I don't drink. I have never really drank. It's just not my thing. It never occurred to me that this might be strange until I moved to Los Angeles. I would have to answer the question at least a hundred times at every party. "So, you don't drink?" "No" I would respond. "Are you on the wagon?" "No" "Do you want a line of coke?" "No""Here, have a joint."I'm good thanks.""Cigarette?" "No, thanks." It went on forever. And, I didn't really mind, I got used to it and still seemed to have fun partying. Friends that knew me well began to understand my way a bit. While living in Laurel Canyon my nick name became naturally stoned, and when we would end our epic parties quite often I was the last one on the dance floor bouncing around like a bunny. My friends began to tell people that I didn't drink because I didn't need to, I was drunk on life, that is as good a reason as any I guess. Sometimes people would ask me about my parents drinking, or my religious values, it really just could not compute in their brain that it just wasn't my thing. The other day my long time friend started to offer me a nonalcoholic beer, and then he laughed and stopped himself and said, oh that's useless because you just don't like the taste. And, it's true. I don't really like the taste of alcoholic beverages, I am told they are acquired, I never really felt like acquiring it. I like carrot juice, when I drink it my family laughs at me. Carrot juice is really good, I wish I would remember to bring it to parties. I seem to relax and party just fine with out alcohol. A family member once mentioned something to me about it being about too many calories and that's probably why I avoid it, I think I was eating my third plate of cannelloni when he said it so my mouth was too full to refute his comment. One time someone told me that it was because I didn't like to loose control. I thought about this. But, isn't alcohol often a way to control one's own emotional state? To relax more, open up more, laugh more, avoid painful feelings. I like to let myself be wherever I am in a situation and allow my present state of being to just be what it is, to me that seems like less control, not more.  Let this be noted that I have no problem with any sort of substances, it doesn't bother me in the slightest when people I am around, or close to do these things. I think it is up to the individual to decide what feels best for their own soul.  I think perhaps I was born drunk on life and I love to be as present as possible to take it all in. The point of this is not, "to drink or not to drink", that is not the question. It is to be true to oneself regardless the reactions of others, ay, that's the rub.    

Gold Digger

We drove in the car after he had treated me to lunch. We began to speak of travels. "Well, you're an attractive lady" he said,"I'm sure lots of gentlemen have taken you on nice trips." I froze. I literally didn't know what to say, I had no comprehension or understanding of a statement like that whilst in the middle of speaking about worldly exploration, a thing I am so passionate about. I should have let my serpent tongue come out and spilt him in two. I said nothing at first because I was in shock. It was as if I was speaking of the magic of the universe and why I love to discover it, and in a swift statement he had called me a high class hooker somewhere in the middle.  I gathered my thoughts. "There are many ways to travel with out spending a lot of money" I tell him. "I went to Jordan for two grand including a plane ticket. I was traveling with a friend, and we split everything." "You're defending yourself" he says, "which makes it even more suspicious." I am caught between a hard place and an even harder place. If I say nothing, he feels justified, and if I defend myself, he also feels justified. This is useless. I'm not sure that he or it is worth my time at this point. I think of all the travels I've been on. When I was younger, much of it was blessed by my parents, and still sometimes to this day. Then, as I got older, it was backpacking through Europe with a girlfriend from grad school, sleeping on trains, slumming it at every corner. Trips with boyfriends were often split in some way where I bought the tickets and he bought the hotel rooms. And then, my solo ventures that I can't seem to hold back. I think I was being accused of being a gold digger at that point, yes, and actual cliched gold digger, and I think primarily based on my appearance, my dates, and his lack of understanding on how I support myself and my life. It's simple. I live simply, I can stretch a dollar for a mile, and I put my money in experiences rather than material items. I have dated some very interesting and successful souls, I have also turned away much more successful and less interesting souls. I have dated people that didn't have a pot to piss in, I have dated people some where in the middle. It doesn't matter. This specific man didn't seem to have a gage on me, or a desire to get a real gage. Truthfully I had known him for years, but knew little of him and his back round. But, it wasn't until a few months earlier when I saw him get up in early hours on a Saturday morning to help weed a community garden that I thought he might be worth even a moment of my time. So, I guess I do love jewels. Pearls of wisdom, diamonds of truth, and hearts of gold. Then indeed, I may be a gold digger after all. A big, tenacious, relentless, unwavering seeker of the biggest hearts of gold I can find. And, I have found them often both in friends and in romance. So I just keep digging.  

Freedom in Free Items

I was moving from the place I had lived in for five years in Los Angeles. I glanced around the house. Room divider, $20. Bed, $250. Dresser, free. Record player, $20. Living room furniture, free. Book shelves, free. Comforter, $10. Futon, free. Office furniture, free. So, I furnished my entire place for $300. Hmmm, could probably sell the bed alone for $300, but instead I just give it away to dear friends that need it. Most of the items were given to me, and to complete the cycle I think the best thing to do is to give them back to people that can use them. This is the easiest move ever. I realize the freedom that comes from not investing a lot into stuff. I don't feel weighed down, I feel that life can take me if it needs me, it's all OK. I move up to Seattle. Living room furniture is given to me, free. Couch from a neighbor, $30. Chair, free. Dresser, free. The cycle continues. There is an abundance of goodness out there if you open your heart to it. I like to have everything that is of value to me be able to fit in the back of my car. Perhaps this is a useless point for those of you that have a family, I recognize that, but I think the basic concept remains the same. The less you invest in external items, the more freed up you are to invest in your soul, and be moved as needed to put your time, energy, and money in more important matters.

Feminist Flexible

"I would clone her if I could" he says. "When her boyfriend went over seas for a year she didn't even really leave the house to show her loyalty to him. He asked me to go check in on her - strictly in a platonic fashion of course - so I did."  I am silent. I resist the urge to ask him if he fed her wet or dry food when he went over to check on her, and how often he had to change the litter. Maybe I am crazy, but that doesn't feel like loyalty to me, that just feels silly. Am I a feminist? Maybe. I think we are beyond the time when a woman doesn't leave the house to show her loyalty. And, vise vera, if I went away for a year from a man I loved (which I have done) I would hope he would do something exceptional and interesting in the freed up time without my presence. I don't like labels though. Am I vegan? Vegan flexible. Am I Heterosexual? Hetero flexible. Am I a feminist? Feminist flexible. I like to change up the roles. One day a bread winner, one day a bread maker. One day wearing a suit and tie, one day rolling barefoot and playing with the baby. But staying in one's house for a year while their partner galavants around the world just seems absurd. I'm sure I must not have the entire picture, it can't be so. But, all I have to say is for me loyalty is not based on a location, it's a state of mind. I know I'm in love when I'm at a party dancing and all sorts of people are hitting on me and all I can think about is I wish my man was there to enjoy it with me but he couldn't go that night. Or, at times I remember loving someone so much I'd miss them when they stepped into the bathroom. Missing them, yes. Proudly reporting to a suitor that I was off the market because I was in love, certainly. Staying in my house for a year? No. And, I would question someones' love for me if they needed me to sacrifice  the fullness of life in that way to feel secure. No real man would do that, and certainly no man of mine.