Michael Jackson... enough already!

We've had a heat wave going on here for the past 5 days so naturally I was parked in front of the TV more than any other time.

It's been wall-to-wall Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson's death, MJ's kids, MJ's will, MJ's personal habits, MJ's childhood, MJ's trial, MJ's father, MJ's siblings ... you name it! It's been morning until night since Thursday when he reportedly died.

The whole media circus is beyond cloying. The guy was a singer. He was not a diplomat. He wasn't a revolutionary. He didn't create a social movement that brought about world peace. He wasn't Nelson Mandela or Barack Obama.

He might have been a nice guy. I don't know. At the very minimum, from what little I know, his life was a troubled one.

But he was a singer! He played and sang music!

To the best of my knowledge, he didn't create social change with his music. "Billie Jean" is not a song of social significance. Neither are the rather vacuous "Ebony and Ivory" or "Man In The Mirror". They were just pop songs. They were bouncy and fun, made for good dance music. That was it!

He was talented. Granted. But he's not an idol. He was a talented musician who went the way of many talented musicians from Jim Morrison to Janis Joplin. It was a result of self-indulgence for all of them. I'm too old to believe in "tortured artists". They had too much money, too many sycophants and no particular foundation for living.

When I was a kid, it was all about the Beatles. Young girls my age went to concerts or movies where they'd scream their lungs out. It was mass hysteria. Some of them even passed out. My parents allowed me to go to the concert at the Cow Palace in 1965. It involved an entire weekend trip. I was 13 years old. "All the other kids" in the neighborhood were going which was usually a fairly compelling argument to my parents. So they packed me up with my friend Davida and we went. Neither of us, budding hippies that we were, were impressed. I remember the crowding, the smell of pot and an evening of rather mediocre music. I also remember the screaming which seemed rather odd, given the price of the tickets. No one was listening to the music.

Even at that age, I thought the whole thing was goofy. I was a fan of Joan Baez, Barry McGuire and Peter, Paul and Mary. Their concerts were wonderful but the mania over any musician never caught me.

Maybe that's why I am not understanding what's going on now.

Michael Jackson is dead. Let the man rest in peace.


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Sacred Life Sunday: Magnificent Brain

Frankly, I always thought the whole notion of "positive thinking" was a load of crap.

How's that for plopping it on the table?

Sometimes I think positivity is pushed in this culture like some kind of magic tonic, that it will cure everything. It's confused with "upbeat". The two are entirely different. Being positive also does not mean "cheerful". In that respect, the whole concept has become conflated and the importance of it has been lost in the onslaught of fluff. Being positive is an overall way of life. It's not just smiling a lot and expressing cheery thoughts.

Lately, it almost seems as this message is being pounded into my head. Thoughts are things.

Dealing with my housemate's negativity has been a real challenge. Every day, it's all about her hardships and separation from others. Any mind that concentrates on hardships and differences between self and others for too long becomes only the hardships and separations it fantasizes. In the end there is nothing left but the hardships and separations ~ a good life stolen by self from self. And that is where she is now.

That was one object lesson. It's been sort of a spiritual version of "this is your brain on drugs".

I was listening to PBS and Dr. Daniel Amen who wrote "Have A Magnificent Mind At Any Age". His "12 Prescriptions for an Improved Brain" emphasized this: Concentrate on the things you love about your life more than the things you don't.

He showed some supporting documentation. There were pictures of brains. Brains when we're negative. Brains when we're positive. There was a significant difference between the two.

There are physical consequences as well as quality-of-life consequences to allowing ourselves the laziness of being negative. Dr Amen's brain scans proved that. It puts it in the venue of science rather than some blah-blah "be positive" tripe that leads a lot of people to dismiss it out of hand.

What that has brought me to is a mindfulness about how often I allow myself to complain, to awfulize, to worry and to look at worse case scenarios. Without realizing it, when we do that, we change our brain patterns that lead to these physical as well as mental consequences. In so many ways, it's just as dangerous as smoking, eating poorly or not getting any exercise.

Something to chew on.


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Sacred Life Sunday: Praying the Devil Back To Hell....

There is nothing noble in being superior to some other man. The true nobility is in being superior to your previous self. ~Hindu proverb ...

I got an interesting comment on my last post, reminding me to send metta to the women I was upset with last week. (Was it last week? A few days ago? The time is blurring.)

Sending metta, or good thoughts ~ lovingkindness ~ to someone who has harmed us or tried to harm us is a basic part of the forgiveness process. At least for me.

Taking the comment seriously and realizing it was necessary, I sat down to do it. I sent lovingkindness to each woman, by name.

It was hard. Really hard! Not because I am still angry at them. Not out of a need to be right. Not because it felt like submission or giving up.

It was even more insidious than that.

It was because I'd relegated them to non-personhood. The particular dynamic they engaged as a means of "punishing" me was something I find so repugnant, so destructive, that I couldn't bring myself to forgive them as individuals. They became shells. It's really hard to have empathy or compassion for hollow shells. I was able to forgive in a global sense but couldn't on a person-to-person level.

Still, I sat and kept trying.

Eventually after several full minutes, I began to feel some compassion for people who are in such pain that they would take someone's confidential information, shared in trust, and turn it back ~ turning it into ammunition.

I committed to the universe that I would not do the same thing. At least I would try very hard to not do the same thing.

I began to feel empathy, knowing what it is like to feel that way from the past, to be so wounded and so angry that using anything in my arsenal to "get back" at someone seemed justified.

Our conflict was minor. In fact, it was even a bit petty. No one's life will be changed - not mine nor theirs - by the interaction we shared. However, when you look at it in the bigger picture, it does ripple outward. From stream to river to lake to ocean, it grows and grows and before we know it, nations are doing the same thing.

I sent more lovingkindness. I sent healing their way, to all of them, that the things that hurt them inside will go away, that they can see the world as something other than a nail - and that they don't have to be hammers. And I sent lovingkindness to all of us so that none of us will have to feel like hammers in a world of nails.

It was a good exercise. Even though it is difficult, willingness is a good beginning. Even though it didn't feel "real" for a while, it was still worth doing.

I wish we would all take a few minutes each day to send lovingkindness to each other - globally or individually. That alone could change the world.

Have a good Sunday!

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Getting slimed....

If I had to make a wild guess, I'd say most of us have trouble with conflict.

I know I do.

But it also makes me grow. More than I thought possible.

Here's a very, very brief summary of what happened: I told someone that we are not a good match as friends. I wished her well, told her several positive things about herself and encouraged her to stay well.

Still, there were some personality characteristics that made it impossible for us to be friends. Sometimes it's important to admit that to people instead of walking away or disappearing. In my opinion, it's closure. It's honest. It offers everyone the opportunity to wish each other well and move on.

She wrote a message back that was horrible, accusatory and negative. She accused me of being a person who is "grossly afraid of intimacy" and went on to tell me all my perceived character deficits from her perspective.

If I'd walked away for a while, I probably would have stayed walked away. It was obvious she wasn't going to wish me well and let it go.

In a momentary fit of anger, I slimed her back. I fell right into the trap. I should have known better and didn't.

Still, I learned a lesson from this. I know I have a bad temper and that is not how it should have been done. I own it. I screwed up. There is no sense of satisfaction in it. It was wrong action. Period.

The person immediately began gathering her allies, writing public messages intended to bait me into blowing again. The three of them, like circling vultures, began picking at the bones of my private information, using it as a whip to wound me. The whole thing, objectively speaking, said far more about them than it did about my wrong action.

I didn't bite again. I let it go.

Here's what I learned: I have the right to simply say "These are not the kind of people I choose to know."

When I look around, I am surrounded mostly by positive, sensitive and mature people. My personal friends, I mean. They're truly good people.

There is nothing that requires any of us to compete, overcome or win. As Marianne Williamson says, we can be right.. or we can be happy. We can walk away without losing face. In fact, I believe we gain face by choosing our battles the way they should be chosen ~ which is based on some larger principle than being annoyed or pissed off.

Even though these people tried to goad me into a reaction, I noticed that I had none. I did chuckle a bit about the fact that I was commanding so much of their energy that they would send veiled messages intended to pick at my personal scabs but beyond that, nothing. I didn't feel bad for them. I didn't feel superior to them. I didn't feel anything... except a vague sense of having gnats flying around my ears.

I'd have to give them the power to affect me in any way .. which I won't.

These are people I simply don't choose to know.

I'd rather stayed focused on the positive, the wholesome and the uplifting. If anything, this incident has taught me that I have to consciously choose that and act accordingly.

Lesson learned.

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Sacred Life Sunday: Remembering the things that make us happy....

Well, this week I decided to blatantly snarf Olivia's idea and post six things that make me happy right now.

Today. At this very moment.

1) I am a freak for a pretty ring. Today, I was out wandering and found a beautiful mystic topaz ring. It was free for all intents and purposes. I had an old ring I no longer like and took it to Abla Jewelers. They made an even trade.

2) My little dog, Shanti, who seems to bring me pleasure each day, no matter what's going on in the outside world. She is a very good natured being who doesn't seem to let anything get to her. She's not demanding or annoying. Ever. She just continues to provide her unconditional love, no matter what I do.

3) Saturn The Chatterbox who has been bravely carting me all over the place, even though there is still some work to be done. I especially admire the fact that she putts on, even knowing that I really want one of these:



4) The declining scale. I am losing weight at a very healthy rate and am beginning to see the shifts and changes in my body shape. It's a good reminder that we do get to choose and we can take action and see positive results. That one took a long time to learn.

5) I'm very grateful for the friends who have come into my life over the past several months, and many who have been around longer, who have a very solid understanding that relationships of all kinds should always include "thank you" and "you're welcome". They understand that giving and getting is a beautiful flow.

6) I am also happy to get a blog acknowledgement from Olivia who passed this award along to me. Those who have read here for a long time know I don't typically deal with awards. However, coming from Olivia, I will because she is one of the most balanced, mindful people I know. And also, for someone who doesn't even know me personally, she has been gracious, kind, generous and always, always a delightful conversationalist. Thank you, Olivia. When will I get to say "you're welcome"? :)

I am going to pass these along to a few people and there is another award I have in mind for others. This one is a really good fit though for these folks :)

Susan at Guilty With An Explanation

Angela at Eclectic Recovery

Angel at Little Pea

Hele at Truth Cycles

Billie at Border Explorer

Maithri at The Soaring Impulse ~ (I don't think Maithri does awards but either way, if you are not visiting this site, you are really missing out on something truly beautiful and uplifting.)



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Sacred Life Sunday: Healthy Selfishness

It has only been for the past few months that I've understood on a fairly deep level that I have the right to be who I am.

Sound familiar?

It seems it is mostly women who get caught in this spiral, the belief that we should be all things to all people and even all things to all things.

While I am not caught up in the guilt spiral, I did get caught up in the belief that if I was going to be "good", I was going to be exceptionally good. That meant finding any and all possible hammers in my personal belief system and using them to beat myself up for not being "perfect" enough.

If I was going to be a good Buddhist, as an example, I should put the Dalai Lama to shame. I should be perfectly patient, perfectly serene, never state a preference, never *want* anything, especially anything from anyone else. I should never get angry, sad, frustrated and I should certainly never set a boundary on anyone else's behavior. I should never make a judgment and never turn anyone away.

It doesn't work. I doubt even the Buddha himself was quite so self-sacrificing. In fact, to the best of my knowledge, he did exactly what he wanted to do, exactly the way he wanted to do it.

The first truly selfish thing I ever did was to admit that I could no longer live the way I was in 2004 (journal entry from that time in the previous post). I used the medical system (legitimately) to get out of it. I got out of it to save my life. My life. No one else's. My life was valuable enough to do that.

[.....]

And then believed it was necessary to make penance for the rest of my life for the degree of happiness I found as a result of the freedom it allowed me. I was let out of one prison but began serving a sentence in a new prison.

I'm coming to realize that happiness is the natural state, not the one we only get as an occasional reward for being lowly, self-sacrificing and living small. Happiness is something we cultivate within ourselves, something we adopt as a way of life. It is not dependent on other people or cirumstances. It is healthy selfishness, along with generosity. Generosity without happiness is martyrdom.

It is the recognition that we have the right to be ourselves while not harming others. It's the willingness to admit that we can't be all things to all people. That's not even such a noble goal after all. Happiness (contentment) is a freedom all its own. It is probably the truest freedom there is.

We are here to be happy. We are here to be content. We are here to tell the truth. We are here to choose that. And I do. I take baby steps, learning how to assimilate who I am with what I have to offer.

In case you didn't see it, there was a comment last night from Heartsinsanfrancisco which I think is worth quoting here. It really says it all.

"As Thoreau said, "Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them." Our life's songs are meant to be sung, so sing yours today and for all the days when you could not. "


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Revisiting the Past.....

Lately I've been clearing out a lot of old "stuff" in preparation for moving. While going through a drawer, I found this old journal entry, written on the back of a technical support call document. It was written during a work day. I wrote it three months before I was declared permanently disabled. Please understand when you read this that I was psychotically depressed at the time.

Still, it's occasionally a good idea to revisit the past, to see where we've come from and see how far we've come.

Nowadays, I find it hard to imagine I ever felt this way ~ day in and day out. What an incredible waste of precious life energy. If nothing else, it serves to make me very grateful for my life now. I haven't touched a place this dark in 4-5 years now.

Come back Sunday for my "Sacred Life Sunday" response to this entry.

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3/10/2004

Today has been an exceptionally hard day. It has taken everything I have to stay here ~ to look around me at all these vacant faces. It shouldn't be any surprise. These are people who have had the souls sucked out of them by erosion more than cataclysm. It's as though they've accepted their fate and sleepwalk through their days, accepting the worst of the world ~ drudgery.

It scares me to be around this. I am afraid of becoming one of them. It's said that in Haiti, they feed people oil from a particular breed of fish. I can't recall the name of the fish but it's used in a form of voodoo. The result is a type of brain damage that doesn't take away the ability to function. It just wipes out the soul and the spirit. They're called "zombies".

I actually called A**** B***** and begged him to get me back to B (former workplace). I never realized I could miss anything so much. In the absence of being able to go back to Barclays, I told him to send me to Mars or shoot me. I don't particularly care which. I don't care. I can't do this anymore.

I look around me here and realize I am looking at Hell. Not the ninth rung ~ not a Chinese sweatshop or a Russian gulag. No, this has that uniquely American flavor ~ the hell of being the underclass - the proletariat - those without a voice - those who give away their humanity for a few sheckles and some bread. The living dead.

I refuse to justify this by saying they "chose" it or are consenting to it with any autonomy. Some of them don't know any better and the others have acquiesced. Again, that uniquely American form of torture. No bamboo shoots under the toenails - just a slow descent into the black hole of despair.

Neitzsche ain't got nothin' on this form of soul death. While it is so blatant elsewhere, it is the subtlety - the insideousness - that makes it so effective.

My body is okay. It's battered and bruised but probably good for another twenty years or so. It is my mind that has disabled me. My refusal to forfeit my spirit - my determination to thwart them, my unwillingness to sink into non-personhood. The longer I am exposed to the elements, the more my spirit fights and the more it shatters.

I nearly cried from the futility, my inability to abort this process. It's seemingly beyond my control. My efforts mean nothing. It is meant to be. I need to accept that I can simply no longer do this and save myself.

~*

Sacred Contracts

Last weekend, I went to a psychic faire and had a few readings done. These are all "mini-readings", just to get a sense of the reader and how he or she connects.

I met a rather good one named Shannon. She is very good! I'm linking her here because she also does phone readings and email readings. That way, she's not limited to region or location. She's not wretchedly expensive.

Anyway, most of you who read here know I have been living in a less than optimum situation for quite a while. It's not just the constant interruptions and the lack of respect for my personal boundaries, but it is also a mirror of what I've created again and again.

I allow people to depend on me and expect nothing in return. Somehow I've allowed myself to believe that expecting anything in return will corrupt me and is a violation of my belief system which, believe it or not, is the only thing that keeps me putting one foot in front of the other sometimes.

Shannon told me that Housemate and I have had a previous lifetime together. During that lifetime, I was her daughter and devoted my entire life to taking care of her. It has carried over to this lifetime. That pattern has continued since I returned from Thailand the first time and rented from her. I'd known her previously through someone who rented from her and recommended her. All told, I've known her since 1997.

The pattern didn't come to full fruition until 2005 when she came down with a horrible case of shingles. I managed everything from her meals to her medication and also ran her errands. I didn't mind at all because I perceived it as not only my duty as a fellow human being but also figured it had a beginning, a middle and an end. She would recover from shingles and everything would return to normal ~ which is simply that I am a tenant, we are pleasant to one another and share minor, casual interactions.

It's been increasing engulfment since that time and I have allowed it to happen. Me. Not her. Me.

That is what I needed to learn. Lately I've backed off quite a bit and no longer remain at her beck and call. I finally got openly angry when she interrupted me in my bedroom which is an unspoken no-no.

The cork was finally put in the Engulfment Jug when she approached me the other day and said, "I guess from now on, you need to ask me if I've left anything in my car." She'd forgotten some purchased groceries overnight and had to throw them away.

My response: "I don't think I want to get that intense."

I noted that she was sitting in her car crying shortly after that conversation.

I didn't feel rotten or lousy. I didn't feel like I had to make it better. I didn't feel .... engulfed.

That contract between us, perhaps established hundreds of years ago, has come to an end. While I have no interest in being cruel to her or unpleasant, I no longer want my life consumed with her life concerns. I have my own.

That is not entirely selfish. It's selfish... but healthy selfish.

According to Shannon, that has been my primary lesson in this incarnation is to learn separation, how to learn to be my own Self while still serving others.

What do you do to avoid engulfment?


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No Good Deed Goes Unpunished....

Saturn says "beep beep" to all who welcomed her. :)

That was so out-of-character for me to write something like that but admittedly, it was fun!

Things are still clogged up around here, more than I like. There are some things I will be able to talk about when I get moved that I can't say much about right now.

I'm still waiting for notice from the housing complex. Waiting lists can be grueling because there's really nothing I can do to speed up the process. It's... um... a waiting list. I wait.

A few weeks ago, I joined Weight Watchers. Honestly? I love the program as far as the method used to determine what foods to eat. I've learned a lot. Their scales are awesome, practically to the ounce, and I like being able to track weight loss in such a precise manner. Even with all my easy-going, old hippie ways, I still like precise-ness.

The thing that makes me half nuts is going to the rah-rah meetings. I couldn't care less about stickers and public recognition. It makes me cringe. I'm too old for that kind of thing and I've never liked childish things. Even as a kid, I cringed at that kind of thing.

The question and answer part is great. That's at the very end. That means I have to sit through the rah-rah stuff if I want to ask questions.

All I can say is this: I'd better lose a ton of weight!

There's something really odd that happened here but it's not something I can discuss too openly on the Internet. It did freak me out though. It has to do with helping take care of an older person and getting turned into Adult Protective Services for it. It wasn't .. um.. the older person's fault. It was her doctor's nurse-practitioner's fault. She was suspicious because I make sure... the older person.. gets all of her medication. Because she's very sensitive to drugs, we've had to split the pills in half so she doesn't get the extreme side effects. The nurse wondered what happened to the other half of the pill. She thought perhaps I was taking them.

I was very angry. It wasn't pretty.

More on that after I've moved. Suffice it to say that very few good deeds go unpunished.


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The Car Whispering.....

Hello. I am a Saturn SL1 and I recently came to live at Chani's house. From my understanding (and don't expect much understanding from something named after a freezing cold, very distant planet) I am supposed to cart her around and take her where she wants to go. That sounds like a fine idea since that's what I am made to do but I won't be doing that until she fixes me. There are a few things wrong and I hurt a bit on the passenger side but it's nothing serious. Just like you humans, sometimes our joints get old and don't work so well but I'm going to get a new joint and be back in shape very soon.

What can I say? I was cheap, a good deal. All I require is a little bit of aftercare.

She likes me okay and that's what matters most. We Saturns are very vain. We want to be liked.

As one of my new and very strange duties, I'm writing for her because there's still a lot going on at her house. Again, nothing serious but just a lot of petty stuff. Believe me, sitting here in the carport, I hear it all! I think I've come to live at Dysfunction Junction! What a strange bunch of people. Putting up with humans is just part of my car-ma but let me tell you something. You're all very weird!

And then there's that darn Infiniti but we won't talk about that! If it could, it would probably stick its nose up at me. Hey, it sucks gas and gets dirty ~ just like me!

I'll tell you all the secrets one day. Meanwhile, I think I'll go drink up all my gas and see how she likes that! Did I mention that I'm passive-aggressive? Well, see how you would like having to live in a carport! It's cold out here. And when it's not cold, it's hot. And people come by and pull at my door handles to see if they can get in and steal my radio. Sheesh! It's not fun living out here.

She'll be back soon but wanted to introduce me since the lack of me was a large part of what's consumed so much time.



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And So It Goes On and On....

Today was the first hot day of the season here and I am just plain miserable! The older I get, the less I like being hot.

Anyway, I haven't been around here much since the accident because there's been a lot happening around me. I'm not sure how many of you might have to take care of an older person but it can be a challenge.

My housemate, which I may or may not have mentioned, is quite a bit older than me. By 26 years. Naturally, she is having more health issues as she gets older. She has three ungrateful children who can't seem to take time away from their busy lives to take care of her. Yesterday we spent at Urgent Care because she was having severe back pain. Today, we were at the clinic to see a doctor to confirm or change the diagnosis at Urgent Care. It was a day full of x-rays, waiting around for results and finally getting a treatment plan. Just like me, she's very sensitive to drugs so planning the distribution of medications is time-consuming. I have to pay very close attention to her reactions. I report to her doctor.

This is not something I'd ever planned on in my lifetime. At the same time, I don't feel like I can ignore it. Someone has to step up to the plate and since her kids won't, I'm the only one available.

I'm also still car-hunting. Granted, I'm picky.. but I'm not going to take on someone else's problems and it doesn't matter if it takes me three months. I use my housemate's car.. which I prefer anyway. She does have a very nice car... an Infiniti. I love driving it but now I'm spoiled for anything I can afford!

So if it seems like I'm more absent than usual, that's why. I do miss reading all my favorite sites but I'm so exhausted that I can barely put any energy into anything.

But I'll be back. It will probably be another few weeks. Hopefully by then, she'll be stabilized, I'll have the car thing handled and some of my own energy will return.

The energy part might be wishful thinking. I'm no spring chicken myself!

Be well!



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Susan Boyle and the Worldwide Exhortation....

I know. Everyone's writing about it and my take isn't particularly unique.

Skip the backstory. Everyone knows it.

This is an exhortation that is long overdue.

Only peripherally related, it still struck me as I was reading a book called "How the World Makes Love" by Franz Wisner. It's not about s*x. It's about courting customs throughout the world. It's a fascinating and fun book. The author also makes some very good points about mating rituals in the west.

In many other cultures, when someone seeks out a mate, he or she is far more concerned about someone's history, someone's family, temperament and the potential mate's character. This has always made far more sense to me which is part of the reason why I opted out of the "mating rituals" here. I'd rather be alone than be subjected to the humiliation of rejection based on petty, minor and inconsequential things. I dumped someone three years ago and that was my final and last foray into the dating world in any respect. I'm willing to be an old lady who owns a small dog than be subjected to that.

I think about Susan Boyle who is now viewed like some rare gem. Her outside doesn't reflect her inside... or does it?

Looking at the picture above, I'd say off the top of my head that she is a good-natured, sweet, kind, generous and unpretentious person. She is exactly the sort of woman I would like to include in my circle of friends.

The articles I've seen about her paint her as some pathetic creature who is "frumpy", "lives alone" and I don't recall if they mentioned whether she owns a cat. She has "never been kissed by a man". (A point in her favor, in my opinion.)

Digging a bit deeper, I discovered a few more factoids. She supports and takes care of her elderly mother. She is active in her church. She has sung for charities.

There are always two sides to every story. Each of us has talents and abilities that may not be acknowledged or register in the social arena. Perhaps the social arena is wrong? Perhaps it's time to grow past junior high school level judgments of other people?

We all know that. We all say it. Are we willing to take active measures to change our thinking?

That's the real test.

Meanwhile, I doubt Susan Boyle cares one little bit. Character is still king.


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A Necessary Rant....

Last night as I was going to bed, I heard the news that the missing girl in Tracy, California was found dead.

Eight years old. Sandra Cantu. Found on the bank of an irrigation canal in a used suitcase, abandoned like trash.

I know it upsets the social apple cart to discuss such a thing in a blunt and bold manner. It's not socially sanctioned to point the finger where it belongs and call it out. I should be typing all sorts of platitudes, peppered with obsequities about how she's in a better place, that she now floats with the angels. I should be comforting.

But I can't. I'm angry.

She's not floating with the angels. She's dead. This isn't some disconnected "tragedy". It was a cold-blooded murder. It was likely committed by yet another sex offender who can't control his urges. We don't know if she's in a "better place" or not, because none of us have been there and come back to talk about it. We all have our own beliefs to comfort ourselves, to convince ourselves that these events have some larger meaning. We all hope. None of us know.

I think it's time to move beyond this kind of thinking which fundamentally excuses the fact that we have all participated to some degree in creating a society where this kind of behavior occurs.

When people come to believe that wants are needs, that our urges are something we have the right to satisfy, that all our dreams should come true and that there should be no limitations on what we can have, it also creates a social atmosphere where the sick among us believe the same is true for themselves. When we sanction the idea that individualism is king and that we have no right to interfere with the actions of another, we create an environment where these kind of things can happen because someone else - or someone else's kids - are not our responsibility.

What we are responsible for here is to protect each other, especially helpless children whose brains have not developed to a point where they can protect themselves. We have a responsibility to create a society that is safe for its citizens, where respect, honor and moderation are valued.

I have all the compassion in the world for Sandra's family and friends and for the community of Tracy which has been affected by this. When these things happen, trust erodes. Neighbors can no longer trust each other. It further separates us.

My hope is that the person who did this will be caught and brought to justice. And going just a bit further, I hope everyone will realize this isn't just another news story. That little girl was a real human being whose life was stolen for no other reason than someone's inability to control or moderate his urges.

It's time to wake up. It's time to address the social issues that are responsible for this behavior becoming almost common. There's a time when we would have been shocked. Maybe it's time for these things to become shocking once again.


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Sacred Life Sunday: Living on the Edge....

My life is still consumed by cars. Looking at cars, test-driving cars, evaluating cars, considering buying cars.

I thought I'd found one but it didn't quite work out. It was a cute, perky and clean Mazda Protege. That one went by the wayside when I discovered a problem I was unwilling to deal with.

Yesterday, I went to look at another car. It was cute and perky, too. I liked the color. It had been well-maintained.

The woman selling it showed up in the parking lot at 24-Hour Fitness where we'd agreed to meet. I was in my housemate's Infiniti which makes me look far classier than I really am.

When I took a look at Sally's (fake name, obviously) Kia Sephia, I saw that she'd selectively chosen the pictures she chose to put in the ad. It had no license plates, questionable DMV paperwork and it hadn't been smogged in some ungodly number of years, if ever. (I suspect it was an out-of-state car.) These are all things she failed to tell me when we discussed the car on the phone.

She showed up with her two kids in the back seat. She continually yelled at them the entire time we were together. Loud, boisterous yelling. I'm not sure how to say this but she was obviously low-income. I am not slamming low-income people which would be hypocritical at best, considering that I'm low income, too. But there's low income ~ and there's low income.

She swore it would smog. No problem.

I knew she was full of baloney and decided to put her feet to the fire. I took her down the street with her little car to have it smogged. My suggestion. My expense. It did not pass. It would have been impossible for me to register that vehicle without considerable mechanical work. When I looked through the paperwork at the smog test site, I also realized it was a salvage title. That would have meant additional expense on my part because it would have had to go through a DMV safety check as well. It's not easy to get a car registered, once it's been totaled.

I wished her well and left.

As I drove home, I thought about people who live on the edge. They're willing to drive unregistered, uninsured vehicles. They look in the rear view mirror all the time, hoping they won't see a cop. They don't smog their vehicles. They are the ones who hit people's cars and take off. They are also the types who squat in people's houses, not paying rent. They live their lives always on the edge, courting the next disaster.

Being a person who doesn't like risks that are not calculated to the last infinite possibility, it's hard for me to relate to that way of life.

What's harder to deal with is the blatant dishonesty. Sally's dishonesty. She was hoping I would be too ignorant to recognize the problems. Or perhaps she was hoping that I would just *want* it so badly that I'd accept the problems. (Nope! I'm actually a very hard sell and very pragmatic when it comes to that kind of thing.) Sally is impulse-driven. Want will trump pragmatism every time. If she wants something, that's all that matters. She wanted a few thousand dollars of my money and it made no difference how she got it.

It's people like that who make life difficult for the rest of us. Simple honesty would be freeing for everyone. Tell the truth and let people make their choices. She could sell that car to someone who wants a project car or someone who is a mechanic and they'd be grateful for it.

The stress of living on the edge is rarely worth it. Rules have a purpose and long-range consequences when they are broken. Sally will probably always live that way, puddle-jumping from one crisis to another, trying to get by with as little as possible, hoping always for an advantage.

She had the ad back up within an hour of having met me. She mentioned nothing about it not being smoggable.

It was the best $58.00 I ever spent.

Okay. Very little Sacred Life Sunday content unless you read between the lines. :)


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Twitter-dee-dee

There's an old song from a 70s musical called "A Chorus Line". In the song, the singer laments "Who am I anyway? Am I my resume?"

I have a few words to say about Twitter and Facebook.

There are a variety of reasons why I don't like them, some more global than others.

It concerns me that we are all being reduced to "profiles" and communication is being reduced to 140 characters. It's depersonalizing. It is also desensitizing. When any of us become reduced to such soundbytes (or textbytes, as the case may be), communication degrades. Real communication requires time and effort. Do you really think anyone cares what color your couch is or what you are cooking for dinner?

Friendships take effort. Friendships take authenticity. They take.. excuse the expression... emotional investment. They take time. The kind of caring we all long for isn't something that can be automated or made convenient.

We minimalize ourselves into short paragraphs and call that "connecting". We reduce ourselves to snippets, skill sets and a litany of interests, even though we are all complex individuals with different qualities and interests at different times.

We no longer discriminate or discern. With Twitter, Facebook and even Blogger, we fill up our RSS feeds with too many things and end up communicating substantially with no one. I once read someone's site and he or she had over 600 subscriptions in Google Reader. (I have 55.) There is no way anyone can give adequate time to 600 feeds. It's tough enough with 55! I've been on Blogger for almost 2.5 years and I have had substantial connections with three people. That's because all four of us made the commitment of time, effort and communication.

All this hyper-linked content has created mass Attention Deficit Disorder. We're always looking for the next thing, the next technological "fix" that will satisfy an almost carnivorous desire for one more tittilating snippet of information. It's technological channel-surfing. Like call-waiting, we can always click off and see if there's something or someone more interesting somewhere else.

We don't write letters anymore. Does anyone remember what it's like to sit down at the table with a pen and paper, thinking about the things we want to tell our correspondent? Since letters are less frequent, we have to think about things over a longer span of time and respond more meaningfully.

Now we have email. We get on someone's "forward" list and get cut-and-paste inspirational stories or bouncing icons with quippy sayings. We get jokes. How is it "keeping in touch" to pass along impersonal information? It's more like one of those dreaded round-robin Christmas letters.

We no longer have to remember our friends' birthdays because we get an automated message to remind us. We get on-line and pick out some bouncing monkey or bouncing bunny, slip in a limp "happy birthday" and send it off. We've met our obligation. Eh?

We don't use the phone anymore. Sometimes I hunger for inflection, for tone of voice, for the sound of someone's laughter.

Instead, we get snippets on SMS, Twitter and Facebook. We get the title of the book someone is reading - or what song they have on at the moment. We know every time someone goes to Safeway. We know every time someone went out somewhere. We know the color of his or her couch. It is facile, unoriginal and consumptive.

This kind of cyber-crowding is really no different than being in an overly-crowded room. We scratch the surface and move on. We get bumped and jostled, facebooked and twittered. We want to breathe fresh air.


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Sacred Life Sunday: A Little Longer....

Yes, I know I am a day late.

This morning I got up to the news of yet another mass family killing. This one in an "upscale" neighborhood in Santa Clara, California.

It's certainly not the first report of someone going off the beam and killing their entire family because of a job loss, foreclosure or another type of financial setback.

I've believed for a long time that the timing of this depression (recession, my hiney!) is spiritually significant. It's the proverbial fork in the road.

For too long, people in this particular social system have defined themselves by what they own instead of who they are. Consequently when financial setbacks or losses occur, people feel their entire identity is compromised.

This economic depression is providing an opportunity to re-evaluate our priorities, to do things differently, to value things differently, to choose differently.

My hope is that it will change us at a fundamental level. We'll stand still a bit longer, listen a little more closely, look at each other with a bit more compassion and take the time to see below the surface. Reassure someone. Notice when someone is in trouble and take some action, however minimal, to re-establish our core humanity.

Communicate the fact that we are all in this together and we're all prepared to help in some way.

It's time.


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Sacred Life Sunday: You Raise Me Up...

She was 12 years older than me, a recovering alcoholic with a long span of hell behind her. Foul-mouthed and fat. Crusty, outspoken, strong. She smoked like a haystack. She had skin the shade of coffee with a wrinkle or scar that marked all the passages of her life. She always wore bright colors, all the tones of the earth. Orange, green, brown, deep red and plum.

I was in the thick of what would be a very long climb out of the abyss. Lost and confused with this life, not knowing why I was here or why I should remain here. Knowing I didn't really want to be here but believing suicide was wrong, one day followed another with that drip-drip-drip stagnancy that can drive a person insane. I'm not good with dates but she came into my life sometime in the early 1990s.

When I would complain, she would say, "you are where you are because you choose to be there". At first I thought she was terribly unsympathetic and harsh. How could she possibly believe that I would choose to be so miserable?

It took a few years for me to realize the gift (and the exhortation) she gave me was powerful. It changed my life from one track to another. It was the proverbial four-way stop. It was the radical idea that I/we always have choices. It was the radical idea that we own our own existences. We are not cogs in a cultural wheel or products of social custom. Naturally those things influence us but they don't define us. Life is a series of choices, one thing or another. Sometimes both or all in a new configuration. Sometimes, as Neitzsche said, when something is tottering, we give it a final shove and move on to something entirely new and different.

That simple. We always choose. We are always choosing. Big choices and little choices.

I wrote a yellow post-it note and put it on my refrigerator. "You get to choose."

There was one on my bathroom mirror as well. "CHOICE!"

This might seem rather odd to those who have come along in the generation or two after mine. My generation of women were taught to be compliant and deferential. The idea of choosing what we would do, be or have was outside our reality. We were chastised to never be haughty or demanding. We existed to serve. The idea that we could design our lives as we saw fit was revolutionary. Our job as women was to serve men and serve children. The first wave of modern feminism which took place during my late teens allowed that we could then join another type of servitude ~ to an employer instead of family. The essential message didn't change in substance, only in the packaging.

The practice of learning to make choices was frightening as hell in the beginning. I thought the earth would shatter, the heavens would open and mass destruction would occur at the very notion that I would make a choice that someone else might not like.

Oh, my God! I'd be disliked, culled from the herd, rejected, sent into oblivion. I would cease to exist!

And, in fact, that did happen. I've written here previously about it, the time spent in complete isolation from any adequate support systems or friendships. And, yes, it was hell. It was also a transition. Without that, I wouldn't be where I am now.

It's been a long, hard road, this journey to finding likeminded others, women and men who are not afraid to make their own choices, chart the course of their own lives, make decisions that suit who they are instead of who they were conditioned to believe they should be. I'm only beginning to get comfortable in my own new skin.

It goes on, this learning and experimenting. These days though, I wouldn't have it any other way. I love the idea that I make choices, that I am responsible for those choices and that I have the internal strength to deal with the consequences.

This wouldn't have happened without that unusual friend who shattered my world and guided me in picking up the pieces.


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Sacred Life Sunday: Would you like to be a hero?

I want to do something different with Sacred Life Sunday. It's time to change my focus a bit. Honestly, I am tired of talking about myself. Like most of us, my life is just a series of days and one is not all that different from another. I'd like to spend more energy putting good things out into the world for people to participate in. Most of us want to feel like we can do things as well as think about them. The doing can be just as spiritual as the thinking. From now on, I will try to use SLS as an opportunity to find something good to pass along to you - whether it is a website, a book, a volunteer opportunity - something uplifting and wholesome.

I hope you find it to be of some use in your own life.

Those of us who are not wealthy often wonder how we can give to others in a meaningful way. Too often, charity is all about giving money. So what can those of us who don't have money give? I believe we have the same spiritual requirement. Sometimes we just have to be a bit more creative. The older I get, the more I realize that sometimes a smile and a good morning won't mean a thing to someone who's hungry. It's a good way for us to feel like we're doing something ~ but there are plenty of opportunities to make a real difference and have a significant impact on someone else's well-being.

One of the lessons I believe we will learn from this economic downturn is that we are here to help each other. If ever there was a cosmic smackdown, this is it. We're here to give and receive. We're here to be aware of others and do what we can to make each other's lives easier. This is an opportunity to move away from competition and empire-building and focus on cooperation and community-building.

Recently something came to my attention that I'd like to pass along because there are some wonderful things happening. It feels really nice like Kiva but doesn't require a financial outlay. It's good like Freecycle but it also provides a chance for people in need to ask directly for something they need.

It is called WishUponAHero. It is a site where people make requests, state their wishes and match up with those who might be able and willing to meet their needs. Granted.. this is material but sometimes a material item can make a big difference in someone's life.

I saw a news story about a woman whose refrigerator broke and she couldn't afford to replace it. Someone in her area saw her post, had an extra refrigerator around and gave it to her. It's helping her save money since she doesn't have to buy fresh food daily and she has kids so it makes a huge difference.

There are all sorts of requests there. Check it out. You might be able to be someone's hero. And perhaps, if you need a hero, you may find one.

Either way, it's all sacred.


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Wellness Wednesday: Nothing is lost that can't be replaced....

Throughout this whole car debacle, I've come to understand how much easier life can be when we don't get caught up in the drama.

During this process, I've been watching other people. The representatives of the insurance company, the neighbors, the person who caught the license plate number of the hit-and-run driver, the body shop that has been storing it.... the cast of characters goes on and on.

And I'm the only one who is detached. I am the only one who doesn't have a strong feeling of urgency.

Don't get me wrong. I'm very grateful for the people who have been helping me. I'm not indifferent to them. The insurance company (Nationwide, in case anyone is curious) has been helpful beyond the call of duty. That's a crapshoot though. It all depends on the claims representative and I got a good one.

The point of this is that I can't see getting upset about any of it. Granted, it's an inconvenience. It's more administration than I am accustomed to dealing with. Phone calls, DMV trips and trips to the body shop to release the vehicle to the insurance company. In the end though, it was just a car and both the person who hit it and I are okay. Nothing was lost that can't be replaced. In the end, that's all that matters.

It's been a long time that I've tried to reach this level, to be able to remain this calm during something that pulls me in contact with the systems, with phone calls, with negotiating, with all the things I most dislike doing ~ and still come out of it okay. No physical symptoms at all.

Now if I can just maintain it! Not only in this situation but in all similar situations!


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Collision... Part II

Thanks to everyone who replied. I took all the suggestions and have prepared a list of similar vehicles from AutoTrader, Vehix and Craigslist. I looked for the exact same car and found only one - at $1950.00 - and it had 40K miles more than the one I had. My understanding is that they have to give me fair market price for my area. If they do that, I won't have anything to
argue with them about. Hopefully it will go that way.

I had an object lesson in aging when I picked up the rental car yesterday. It was a Kia Rondo... some huge SUV type thing and I couldn't stand driving it. Seriously. It scared the heck out of me! It also had all kinds of
buttons and bells. I had no idea what all that mess was and didn't want to deal with it. I took it back to Enterprise and asked for another car - for one thing, not a car that was like something the Secret Service would have, not taller than me and *no talking*! I don't want a talking car! It gives me the willies!

They exchanged it for a Chevy Cobalt and it is much, much better! It doesn't speak. It beeps and chimes the way machines are supposed to do. Iit doesn't have anything I haven't seen before. The only creepy thing is that it tells me (on a display window) what song is on the radio. It comes up and displays "KSSJ 94.7 Aaron Neville Use Me". A bit TMI. How does a simple frequency reciever know what's playing?

Get out my tin foil hat!

Guess I've lost my hip card forever.


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