Hiker's Paradise

Before I came to Sedona I saw a picture like this of a woman sitting just like this and I said "that is what I am going to do."

I love it when you reach your goals!  Even if they are as simple as climbing the red rocks of Sedona.  This particular hike was called "Cow Patty Hike," and it was explained as very easy since you drove up most of the way, and it was about three miles total. 

Well.  I had chosen an easier hike because until LAST NIGHT I haven't been able to sleep.  I toss and I turn and I have crazy dreams and all kinds of variations of my previous post and the night before this hike I maybe got three hours of sleep.  Brutal.  But I want to get a hike in everyday, so off we went.  (My mother and I.)  But the road was absolutely unbelievable!  The rental car is a Jeep Patriot, which has low clearance and is NOT a worthy Jeep, and let me tell you, I was DYING that I have a Jeep at home which would be perfect out here and here I am with Wimpy Car.

So.  I am not afraid, so we start up the road.  Oh my.  From my map it said that it was 4.8 miles to the trailhead.  About half a mile in (going about 1 MPH) I said to my mother I didn't think I could take much more.  I had to keep pulling over so Jeeps (of worthy quality) could pass and after going down this crazy patch where the ditches had rocks sticking out and I thought OH NO! I said I would rather walk on the road then deal with this ridiculousness.

So that's what we did.  We had gone exactly ONE MILE!  So now this quick little hike had gained a few miles.  Okay.  So off we trek and the scenery is amazing, and then this wonderful man stops and asks us if we are hiking to the top and I say yes, and he tells us that we don't have to walk the road, that there is this trail that meanders along the creek.  And sure enough, right before our eyes was this most FABULOUS trail.  Oh.  I kid you not, I felt as though I had died and gone to heaven.

 

Doesn't this look like something you've seen at Disney?  FAKE?  I know.  I know!  It's crazy, you feel like you are in some place that truly isn't real.  So, off we trek, and I am in heaven, big smile on my face, the trail is the best thing since sliced bread because it meanders back and forth across the creek, and oh!  There is nothing I like more than jumping rocks across a creek.  I don't know why.  Love it.

And this trail goes all over the place.  Soon we are headed in the direction of not-so-red-rocks, kind of granite-like and covered with snow.  Which was fine, I thought of everyone back home in the cold climate with snow and you know?  Happy to be here!

I was actually happy to find that I was up to the added mileage and the hike was perfect.  We reached the top and sat down and chowed down on a little trail mix and chatted with some people up there and then climbed up to the top of the red rock (where the first picture was taken) and I sat there and meditated a bit, and this WILD wind came along ... and I was truly at peace.

The different landscapes were incredible; one moment you were walking through "the enchanted forest," the next it was like the river raft ride at Disney, and then you would come back out of the woods and it would be red rocks as far as the eye could see.

Today we went on a short hike.  It was later in the day and I went through my book and found a loop that said it would take an hour.  So off we went and I am telling you, there is just no way to describe the surroundings.  This trail meandered between two rock formations and then around it.  It wasn't an especially difficult hike, but I was a little concerned because the trail was difficult to follow because so many people had ventured off the beaten path, so you really had to stop at times and try to figure out where to go.  I was standing on top of a little hill, gazing out at the rocks, when I heard coyotes.  Hmmmm.  You know, coyotes right where we are headed.  Interesting.  I wondered, what does one do when faced with coyotes?  Heck if I know.  I picked up the pace and my mother asked me what was the hurry?  Well, hmmm, the sun is setting and I have no idea if this is TRULY a loop because well, does one ever know, and there are coyotes screaming and well.  I am a little, well moderately freaked!

I was pushing on and then I came to a high point and could see the parking lot.  PHEW!

Not for a second do I pretend to be the ultimate hiker.  I have nothing but deep respect for the wilderness that surrounds us -- and not for one second do I believe that I am prepared.  I try to be -- yes.  But this is unfamiliar territory and I am constantly on the outlook for snakes (I swear, I'd faint) and yesterday my mother said there was a skunk by me, and I just pretended it wasn't there.  And when I am in the midst of a hike and the sun is setting.  Yeah, I'll admit it, with the coyotes singing in the background, I get a bit freaked.

Hiker's paradise.

Love it.

Red rock world

This is a picture taken on my first hike in Sedona on Sunday.  It is about a two minute drive from the house and you see these formations everywhere.  This is Bell Rock, and the hike took you around to the other side and then we went up about halfway.  People did climb to the top, but it's a little freaky, as the rock is very smooth and dusty.  I was on my butt sliding down from the height we went, not sure I could go a lot further up.  It's not like you can get a better view in a world where views are everywhere.  When I took this picture I said, "it looks fake."

So.  I think my bedroom is on an energy vortex!  Why?  Well.  On Sunday night I woke up at about 3:30 and could NOT get back to sleep.  After several hours I did fall asleep and I was in a dream, but it was very vivid and I kept asking, is this real?  Am I awake or asleep?  I just couldn't tell, because the dream originated from my bed.  I opened my eyes because I could hear something banging, and there was a cabinet with two doors that kept opening and closing.  I thought, uh oh, what is going on? Then I was laying on my back and I felt this incredible flush of energy go through me, it was all I could do to catch my breath, then all the furniture in the room started to move (think poltergeist here or the exorcist!) and I was FREAKED OUT and then the bedroom door started slamming open and shut, and I thought, well THAT has to wake up my parents.  And I thought, wait a minute, I think I am controlling this, so I started to think in my mind OPEN SHUT OPEN SHUT and the door went NUTS.  And I kept saying to myself it's okay, it's not scary.

And then I left there and I was at a place, like a mall, and I went to a counter and asked a girl about money, like, what is the meaning of it?  Where can I get as much as I need, and when she opened her mouth it came out all garbled.  And I said, I'm sorry, I didn't understand you, and she repeated herself, slowly, but it was all gobbledygook.  And I thought, no, the answer isn't money, and so I kept looking around the mall but I wanted to go back to my bedroom, so this girl said she would drive me, and she was cute and blonde and we were driving and she turns to me and says THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT YOU MUST LISTEN TO ME, and I was like, okay, and she said My name is Mesopotamia ... you must remember that.  IT IS VERY IMPORTANT.  Then she made faces and hand movements that I was supposed to mimic as some sort of ritual or whatever, and then I was back in the bedroom, and there was no energy swirling around, but the place was a mess -- everything all over the place.  And I asked myself, what is going on?  And there was a note on a table by the bed (and some false teeth on the rug which I found odd!) and I reached for the note and it sort of jumped off the table and fell to the floor and the pages started multiplying, and I thought to myself "this just figures, now I am NEVER going to figure it out," and then the feeling of IS THIS REAL started going through my head again ... and then the phone in the house rang and I woke up and looked quickly around the room and was like PHEW.  It WAS a dream.  

I went to the other room and answered the phone, but no one was there. (It was 5:30 a.m.)  My mother was on the other end too.  I was SO THANKFUL for that phone waking me up!  I was really stuck in that dream, and I wondered, did I make the phone ring some how?  Because it sure felt like that.  The moment I heard it ring I was flooded with relief.

So that was my first night in Sedona.  This morning I woke up at 5:00 a.m. and could feel the energy in my bed.  Well, I know it's not from the bed, but man, it was so powerful.  Not like the dream, no where near, but so obviously there.

Frustrated I moved on

Freaking out!

Well, not really, but still.

I started this book some time ago -- actually I have no idea. Months?  I don't think it has been a year, but I don't know.  Anyway, when I was writing it it was very intense, and I would often find myself bawling as I typed away.  The whole experience was maybe too much, because I eventually pulled back and focused on something else, and interestingly enough, if asked I wouldn't even say this is the book I am working on.

So, I am making sure that I am taking all the things I want to work on on my trip, and I saw this book and thought, Wow.  I'd forgotten about that.  How does one FORGET about a book they are writing?  I don't know.  I know that I found this one challenging -- and that I'd reached a point where I just didn't know where to take it.  But when I have a book in my head, it is all-consuming, and pretty much every moment of my day I am thinking about it, trying to move the plot along, going through 100 different scenarios until I reach one that feels right.  Then I sit down and write (and sometimes that begins at dawn and ends at midnight.)

Now obviously that is a ridiculous way to live a life that contains other things -- like a husband, children, friends, other interests.  But I am an all-or-nothing gal, plain and simple, and if I can't sit down and write until the cows come home, I will opt out, until eventually the book sort of ebbs out of my consciousness.

So I opened up Chapter 1 one of this book in progress and within several paragraphs I was completely spellbound.  OH YEAH!  I'd forgotten this book.  I'd forgotten how compelling the characters are and how they had all but sucked me dry!  And as I found myself sobbing, it all came back to me, how I had written these very words crying as well!  I devoured each chapter, not wanting to change a thing (this in itself is amazing) and was beside myself when I read the last of the last.  All she wrote.

And now, with only a few days to wrap up things, pack and be on my merry way, I am ...

O B S E S S E D.    

I have the pictures of the two main characters taped on the wall in my office.  I have stared at these faces for months, not really seeing them.  Now, they are speaking to me.  (I get a mental picture of a character in my head and then when I see them in a magazine, I tear them out and hang them up.)  I can hear their dialog in my head, and the story, which had somehow hit a roadblock, is now as clear to me as though I've always known it.  In fact, I am not sure where I was blocked!  For I know where it's all supposed to go.  But why?  I don't have those kinds of hours to put in right now.  Is this just to get me excited?  Am I supposed to finish this book in Sedona?  It's SHEEER torture is what it is.

But if I start ... I won't stop.  So I can't even take that cork out!  So I am blogging instead!  You know, I remembered blogging about this and so I looked it up, and sure enough, it was a YEAR ago that this book attacked me.  How odd that it's been a whole year.  The following was blogged on February 5, 2008: 

Attacked by a bug. A bug bearing gifts

And how.  I woke up this morning to find out that Charlie had a two-hour delay, and so I stayed in bed, hoping to fall back asleep.  Instead I started to think of this book idea, and it became kind of strong, so I sat down at the computer, and here I am about 10 hours later, elated, full of energy and three chapters down!

Quite the bug!  I was feverish, writing like mad all day long.  It just poured out.  I have no idea where it came from or what it is about or where it is going -- but it seems to know.  I mean, I obviously have an idea, but each chapter fleshed itself out and I 

 thought at the end of Chapter 2 I didn't have anymore to say, but apparently I did!  I only stopped because people were bugging me.  (It's always a bug of one kind or another!)  I also of course did not deal with dinner, so we are going out to eat, though I'd rather just sit here.

I suspect it will be a late night.  But don't worry, I won't get "writed out" by the book itself.  I believe this blog "unblogged my clog" and there are many, many, many words ready to flow!!!

Yahoooooo.

So, how fun is it that this record of my life exists and I can go back and read that I felt exactly as I do now a year ago?  My journal entry:  Writing a new book.  Not the same as what I blog!

(Just so you know, I spent the last half hour reading through February 2008 blogs.  Very fun.)

Blog out.

Mouse pad

I reached close to 8,000 pictures in my iPhoto library and it was so slow I could take a shower in between opening it up and having them all load.  So today I have invested hours in going through them and deleting ones I don't need (gosh that is hard!) and then backing up those I must have forever and so on.  I came across so many great pictures, but this one just cracked me up.

Is this a keeper was my first question.  Then I was like, OF COURSE!  This actually happened and you can tell people that it did, but without the picture to back it up, it kind of loses its oomph.  This mouse was absolutely driving me insane one day.  This is not a family pet, this is a wild and crazy mouse that kept running all over my desk and then I could hear it running around on the shelves in the bottom, and I was greatly irritated.  (But not afraid, I mean look at the thing, is it not adorable?)

So I was going a little nuts, when all of a sudden it walked right out and sat on my mouse pad.  There was no one home, and let me tell you, this little guy was not in the least bit afraid of me either.  I had more than ample time to laugh my head off when he just looked up at me, and then even more time to get my camera and take a picture.  He darted around a bit, but he was truly attracted to the mouse pad!

So we bonded.  Cute little guy, but he wasn't listen when I said fine play away, but if you're going to hang around you have to stop popping out on my mouse pad because you're getting in the way.  But he thought it was great fun, so it became clear he wasn't going to disappear into the house and leave me alone.

So I found a box and pushed him into it, and then I took him outside.  It was a little chilly, but not freezing, and I went into the woods and let him go.  All the while as I walked back to the house I could swear I heard him snickering as he followed me back.  I didn't actually see him, but come on, let's all be honest here.  You can lead a mouse to the woods, but you can't make him stay out of the warm house!

Peter came home as I was outside and he asked what I was doing.  I told him I had caught and released a mouse.  He asked me why I didn't kill it.  I said I can't do that, he was cute.  Heck, if I killed every cute thing that wandered into my house he might not be around, did he ever think of that????  

He saw the box in my hand and he asked me exactly how had I caught a mouse in a box.  I told him that the mouse had hung out on my desk and it was quite easy, I just gave him a little nudge into the box.

Do you think he would have believed that without the picture?  I am not even sure he believed it with the picture -- I do have Photoshop.  BUT TRULY, this happened!!!  

The picture is a keeper.  But it gives you an idea of what I'm dealing with.  I  might have potentially a thousand pictures on sunsets alone.  

How did all go awry ... and why?

How did I create the problems that Charlie has had in school since he was in first grade?

Because I believed in them.

Simple as that.

Oh, if only we could do a do-over on this one!  What would I do differently?  I would just believe that he was capable of fitting in, capable of being the square peg in a round hole, believing that ALL children can get SOMETHING out of a public school education, no matter how imperfect it is.

I had been priming the pump for years before any of my kids went to school.  I had done several interviews with people in the education field, and they just ignited something inside me that did not go away, oh no!  One woman went on and on and on about how badly boys were treated in the public school system (I didn't even HAVE a boy at the time, but let me tell you, I was determined with a passion that MY BOY would not experience anything negative.)

Uncanny, is it not?

The only thing that I had to draw on of my own personal experiences was less-than-inspiring teachers as I grew older.  I had fabulous elementary school teachers.  My first grade teacher was this young sweet blonde woman who began the year as Miss Paquette.  Then she got married.  I can feel, as though it was yesterday, how sad I felt when she left for a week to get married and have a honeymoon, and when she returned she wrote her new name on the board:

MRS. DICK.

(Do you think that that is why I have never changed my name?  Could be.  Perhaps I was permanently scarred by this one event.)  Mrs. Dick.  That name could not come out of my mouth, so I continued to call her Miss Paquette.  Everyone did at first, but then they started saying, Miss Paw ... I mean Mrs. Dick.  And I thought, I hate that name!  That is an awful name.  I won't use it!  I remember her laughing at the end of the year and saying to me, "I know you know my name, you're too smart not to."  She got me.

Second and third grades were not as memorable as fourth grade, when I had my first MAN teacher.  Mr. Beliveau.  He was so nice, I loved him.  And he encouraged us all to sing in class, he loved singing.  I remember one of my projects was to create a song about books.  I sang, "Read, Read A book," to the tune of "Sing, sing a song, make it special to last your whole life  long, don't worry if it's not that good enough, for anyone else to hear .... just sing, sing a song."  Read, read a book, make it special to last your whole life long, don't worry if it's not long enough, everyone wants to hear, just read, read a book."  (Guess it did last, huh?)

In fifth grade we moved to a new school and I had Mrs. Stafford.  Oh, she was awesome.  I decided that I wanted to change my name (doesn't everyone?) and so I decided I was Liz.  And she went right along with it, and started calling me Liz (I of course wrote that on all of my papers) and when anyone else in the class made fun of me or said they wanted to change their name, she would say "fine, but you have to really mean it."

Yeah.  You have to really mean it.  (Though, I remember I was sick of the name Liz and felt bad that I wanted to change my name back, because she'd been so supportive of it.)  But I just started writing Lisa on my papers and she never made mention of it.  SO NICE.

Anyway, let's just say it's fairly simple to see that I wasn't scarred through a less-than-positive school career.  I became less tolerant of the restrictions of school in junior high and began to exercise my right to be a pain in the ass.  But even then there were plenty of teachers who never got frustrated with me.  And while I really hated high school for the most part, it still wasn't sheer, torturous hell.  And I think the reason that I felt so strongly about my kids going to private high school comes from just one event:

It was in a class where it was about acting, but you didn't act that much.  I don't remember the name, but you learned techniques about relaxing and getting geared up for a role and so on.  So finally one day we did this free form exercise where we were all in a circle and one person stood up and started talking, then when the teacher gave the signal, another person would stand up and take up where that person had left off -- but you could go anywhere with it.  I remember thinking THIS is that I signed up for!  Something fun.  (It had been class after class of discussing this and discussing that, so boring I thought I was going to die) and then suddenly, we were moving and it was exciting and people were so good!

When it came to my turn, I remember I stood up and I don't recall what the person before me had done, but I was Mr. Rogers, and I started singing "It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood..." and I took off my sweater and my shoes, then put on my other sweater, and started to feed the fish, then the next person was up, and they continued with the Mr. Rogers theme, and so on, all of us just dying at the recall that we all had of Mr. Rogers.

Well.  As soon as the last person had gone, still being Mr. Rogers, the teacher was quiet for a bit, then she said that the whole purpose of the exercise had been about being creative and spontaneous, whereas half of us had done the same thing.

The energy of the room went from the ceiling to the basement in seconds, and we all deflated like the pierced balloons we were and put nothing into the subsequent exercises.

After class the teacher asked me to stay, and she wanted to compliment me -- she said I had really "come out of my shell," and she hoped to see more of that.  I just stared at her.  I had just spent the rest of the class hating her guts for being such a mean-spirited bitch.  Who CARED what the exercise was about.  Didn't she get the idea of the whole damn class, which was to stir up creative juices?  Here, right before her eyes juices had flowed like a geyser, and the first thing she did was throw a cork in it.   I was D O N E.

And somehow, I took that negative energy and mixed it in with what the woman who told me all the things I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO DO with my kids regarding school, and well.  Don't challenge me ... or else!

So silly.  Imagine what life might have been like if that one teacher had let Mr. Rogers be okay!  Such tiny little instances that can lay the foundation for something that gets bigger and bigger and then takes on a life of its own.

For what?  :::::::::::shrug::::::::::::::::

I can't answer that.  In none of my internal rantings and ravings, in none of the letters I have written over the years, in NOTHING that has taken place in the 18 years I've had a child in public school have I ever found peace.  Why?

Because I wanted it to be that way to prove that I was right.  Right about what?

Exactly.

In sixth grade I had a crazy teacher.  Everyone said she was crazy.  Everyone.  My parents, other parents, other teachers.  She was crazy.  But ... she was also harmless, they said.  And old.  She would leave one day.

She mostly told us about what happened at her house.  Not very exciting stuff.  Like what she had for dinner, what the cats had been up to.  The weather.  What her husband was wearing.  You know, the usual sixth-grade fare.  She had one of those amorphous bodies where you were never quite sure what you were looking at.  Her boobs or her knees?  Her stomach or her elbow?  There were folds of flesh for all the world to see, for she mostly wore sleeveless, shapeless dresses.  Her husband dropped her off at the door and she walked the length of one classroom down the hall to her door on the right.  Her husband picked her up after school, at the door.  She didn't get much exercise.

Of course we were bored.  We all got A's for breathing, and we learned absolutely nothing.  Fortunately we changed classes for math, so it wasn't a full day of mind-numbing nothingness.  But still.  I was harmed!  And I think that started my "You have got to be kidding me, if you don't teach, how can you be a teacher," crusade.  I can't tell you how many times I've heard "she is in the middle of a divorce," "Her husband is cheating on her," "She has been really sick," "She is ready to go, maybe another year," and so on.

Now.  If I hadn't been 12, maybe I would have had more compassion for my sixth grade teacher.  It was her life, coming and hanging with her kids.  She loved us, I will give her that.  But these teachers are in all schools.  Why?

Why?

I believe in change and progress and stagnation and the excuse "that's everywhere," makes me bonkers.  But the thing is, you can't get away from stagnation if you are thinking about it!  And suddenly you see burnt out teachers flowing out of the woodwork (if you are looking for them.)

I had a meeting recently with one of Charlie's teachers and I went in with NO expectations good or bad.  I went in to meet with her fully present, open to an exchange taking place that did not dwell on things of the past.  It went well and I hope that things improve for both of them and that they work in tandem to reach the goal of Charlie being a successful student and understanding that the intent of the teacher is to teach him (as opposed to his perception that they hate him, are out to ruin his day, etc.)  

In my previous post where I discussed "pinging," and how these words and sounds come back to me on a daily basis, it occurred to me that on Charlie's first day of school he went into a classroom where about half already knew how to read.  This was the overachiever (parent's mostly!) teacher of choice and while I was NEVER into requesting teachers and did not do so, somehow Charlie ended up in this class despite the fact that she was highly requested.

Anyway, she was a wonderful woman and loved Charlie, but she did him irreparable harm in those early days by comparing him to a girl who was a full year older than he was and who was reading War and Peace. (Why ruin a good story by stating facts?)  Not comparing him side by side, but by pointing out that there were children in the class who were excellent readers, therefore he needed to go to the reading recovery program.  Huh?  (Charlie knew who she was talking about, believe me, and I said, oh, she's a firstborn, they're always early readers, don't worry honey, you're not SUPPOSED to be able to read.)  Hell, that would have worked for me if someone had said that to me!  Oh, phew, not SUPPOSED to read, okay, then I'll learn.  But he's not me, oh no no no no no no no! (Probably think this blog is about me ....)  Yeah.  Self-esteem issues ... so not me.

I didn't know what to look for!  I had a first-born War and Peace reader, I had a second-born who didn't read but could read a paragraph from any book and do a 12-page book report based purely on BS.  Hey, whatever works, I wasn't looking for that either and it took me years before I realized she had done the SAME book report every year.  Tsk Tsk Tsk!

So when my third child went to school, I was not concerned that he would feel like a failure from day one.  Nope, didn't even enter my mind.  But that is what happened and he gets pinged with that, and then that becomes his reality.  

It's all so crazy.  But it underscores how important it is to make sure our children receive an education that won't harm them for the rest of their lives!  Sound extreme?  It's because it is! Why is it okay to have classrooms full of kids who are on such extreme levels of ability?   When I taught skiing, we would take a group of kids to the top of the hill and have them ski to us.  We would break them up into groups according to ability.

Why?  Because if you have a snow plower mixed in with a group of fast skiers, everyone has to ski the pace of the snow plower.  Does that make sense?

Had Charlie gone into a first grade classroom where no one knew how to read, he wouldn't have been singled out because of his handicap.  (It's NOT a handicap not to know how to read in first grade, but he thought it was because in his mind EVERYONE knew how to read but him.  True?  Absolutely not, but perception is all you've got to work with most of the time.)  This is crazy important, it really is.  Think how much more stream-lined learning would be if kids were placed into classes where they were all on the same page.  Charlie's greatest problem with kids in school are with those that have "issues."  Why?

Because he doesn't get it!  As easily as I can dismiss the War and Peace readers as no big deal,  he can NOT dismiss kids he perceives to be just the same as him, though they have aides or accommodations that address their particular needs.  Do I think all these kids should be in the same class?  You bet I do.  I know that the parent's of these children wouldn't agree with me, but it just creates a class of snow plowers across the board.  No one child learns the same, so find the ones that learn similarly and teach to them in that fashion.

AAAARGH.  Wait a minute ... I am returning to the place where I think I can institute change.  I am stating unpopular opinions which will only upset people and create more negative energy that will be charged and swirl about the universe and do none of us any good.

So, what does one dooooooooooooooooooooooo?

I don't know!  That is why I am running away.  I'll let you know if that helps!

The Power of Words

I have been thinking about the power of words (and sounds) and how certain things keep coming back to you, over and over.

When I learned how to meditate, I sat in the living room of my teacher and closed my eyes and she gave me the tools ... but at exactly that same time I could hear someone walking by pushing a shopping cart.  It made a squeaky noise, and it was very faint at first, grew louder, then faint as he passed by.  (I actually had seen this person pushing his cart over the bridge on my way to this meeting, so I had a visual as well.)

Now, every time I grow quiet, I hear that squeaking noise (and see the visual), and it's been well over ten years.  That's a lot of years to hear a particular sound daily, and I presume I will continue to hear it unless I get reprogrammed!  (I am not sure how one does this, but all things are possible I suppose.)  But to me, the word I chose as my mantra "peace," is not really my mantra:  it's that NOISE!  Because THAT is what my mind turns to to space out.  

Which only goes to show the power of words (or in this case a sound) and how it can affect you.

So, now I am going to give two more examples, which at first I was hesitant to write about because well, they make me sound vain (and I probably think this blog is about me) but really, it has struck me how potent these words have been to me, and how they keep returning, again, on almost a daily basis, and they always bring a smile to my lips and make me feel good.

At the end of this raw food seminar I was taking, all participants were expected to stand in front of the class and speak on whatever came from the heart.  Then when you were finished, the entire class stood up and clapped and hooted and hollered, and then the instructor said some words.  (I have since understood the purpose of this, and well, let me just say, it works!)

So there were close to 30 participants in this class and we were given an order in which we were to stand up.  Normally I do not like to do this -- in fact, it gives me the willies.  I fell in the middle and so I saw about half the class give their presentations (which isn't really a good example, because you had no props, you just spoke) before I went.  I always have things running through my head, but the purpose of this was NOT to be prepared.  And there were no major guidelines, no time constraints, etc.  As my time grew closer, instead of being a nervous wreck, I was ... excited?  It was so strange, but I could feel myself anticipating getting up there and speaking.  I had an inkling of an idea of what I was going to say, of course, but that was it.

This particular class was five days long, it began at 8 in the morning and went until 8 at night.  It was 30 participants jam packed into this house, it was uncomfortable and you either sat in a fold up chair in one room, or upstairs you sat on the floor.  It was brutal.  We all complained about it.  We spent all this money for this?  Oh, what I would have given for a comfy chair!

My presentation was how **I** would hold such a class.  I would have comfy cozy chairs and places for people to stretch out (we were packed in like sardines) and as I got into it, I envisioned exactly what the rooms looked like, the furniture in them, a huge stone fireplace, an enormous counter with stools surrounding it so that all the food demonstrations were easily observed, and so on.  At the end, as with everyone, the class stood up and applauded and laughed and of course that felt good.  Then the teacher stood up on her chair and held out her arms and said "Before you we have a self-actualized person, did you all feel that."

I was like, is that good?  What is that?  And she went on to say many, many nice things, and she said that I was very graceful and moved while I spoke with my whole body (I wasn't aware of that, and everyone said so afterward, that I swept my arms around and my hips, like a dance) and of course that all felt very nice.  It wasn't until I was home and had actually looked up what a  self-actualized person meant did I understand the depth of that compliment. (Now this is funny, I just checked out my diary to make sure I had quoted Elaine properly.  And yes, those words, verbatim.  Stuck in my head forever!)

So, self-actualization represents the optimal psychological condition for all humankind.  When one's need for positive regard is met, then one's tendency toward self-actualization becomes manifested.

(I probably think this blog is about me ....)

The individual can develop into a fully-functioning person who is open to the richness of experience, who has few defenses, and who is self-aware.

Anyway ... I decided to take it to heart, because well, those are all cool things.  And that was in October, and yet, every single day those words come to mind.  I call them the "pings."  Just out of nowhere, ping! "You are a self-actualized person."  :::::::squeak squeak shopping cart:::::::::::

And I smile.  And get that warm fuzzy feeling inside and no matter what I am doing, everything just kind of shifts a little.

Then ... shortly after that class, this woman said to me that she had seen me at the middle school concert, and when I first walked by she hadn't recognized me, but she thought to herself, "that is a good looking woman."  Then she realized it was me, and felt compelled to tell me that the next time she saw me.

Now, it's a ping!  Just out of the blue, her words return and I think, WOW!  That is so nice, and what a wonderful thing to have attack you!  And how nice it was of HER to say that to me.  She didn't have to, I have thought that about people before but never have I gone out of my way to tell them.  And you know what?  I do now!  I will say things to people that I am thinking (positive of course) and it is amazing how their faces just light up.  But it can't be insincere or words just to be nice.  If I am genuinely thinking something that I know a person would like to hear, I tell them.  You should try it.  It makes them feel good, and it makes you feel good too.  And how cool if those words return to that person in the pinging fashion throughout their life?

Now ... with all that said, it has led me to understand that the power of words works just as powerfully in the negative sense as well.  Of course we all know this, but it makes me so sad to think that people are getting pings! of negative things.  Because if they feel as badly as I feel good when it happens to me, then it is tragic.  Awful.

I am not going to bring up anything negative or even think of any examples ... because I believe that all negative can be turned into positive.  I think that sometimes we need to go too far to a place of negativity before we can turn it around, and I think when you reach the point where you think there is no solution, that if you want to turn it around, you stop thinking that way.

It's not easy.  In fact, I know all these principles and yet I only learn a teeny tiny thing each time I go through the cycle.  But I have reached an epiphany this time around.  Charlie's problems in school?

MY fault.

Yes.  All of them.  Since day one.  ALL OF THEM.

I was confused this time because I thought that I wasn't applying any energy to the situation at all -- I thought that I was ignoring it, and therefore not creating anything.  But the very act of trying to ignore it created an even larger negative arena in which all things could run amok.

And here's the odd thing.  I didn't hate school!  I actually enjoyed school until high school.  I have nothing but positive memories (even though I was bored, I will admit that, but sometimes being smart and capable just makes you feel even more so) so where did my "stuff" come from?

Okay, here's a case of a blog gone bonkers.  This one was about words (words about me!) and we are getting off topic!

No, just kidding, I am going to end this one, and start a new one, entitled, how did it all go awry and why?

HAHAHA

Packing woes and damn the Kindle 2!

I had the dream last night.  The dream where I wasn't prepared to go on the trip I am going on.  Where you end up at the airport, and in this case I had no bags and the stairs were endless. Up, up and up.  No end in sight, all white walls, white stairs, very antiseptic.

I think packing for a trip is one of THE things I hate most in the world.  Hate it.  What do I bring?  What about the fact that I have no clothes?  (True, I manage to dress on a daily basis and I can hardly get into my closet because there are so many things in there ... oh, those are clothes.  But you know, not the RIGHT clothes.)  Used to be I would have to go shopping before a trip.  New shoes, new shirts, shorts, whatever.  Now, now I am not shopping for anything.  I don't NEED anything, I just think I do.  I do need sneakers, but this morning I was even thinking of packing the ones that hurt my feet.  Why?  I don't know.  Oh, I do!  Because it said in all the stuff I was reading about hiking in Sedona that my shoes would get red from the red dust.  And I thought, well, I'll just use my old sneakers.  But that doesn't even make sense because they hurt my feet AND I will have my hiking boots for hikes. (Can you see I am not making a lot of sense?)

Several years ago when I went to London, I was really sick the two weeks beforehand.  I didn't have a chance to shop for anything and at the last minute, as I was packing, it all of a sudden didn't seem to fit in the bag I had planned on using.  Because I was freaked out from being sick for so long, because I was freaked out that I might be sick over there, I panicked and started yelling that the bag wasn't right.  Peter ran to the cellar and brought up every shape and size of luggage we had and because I was insane, I packed in the largest one.

Just picture a very narrow staircase in Scotland, four flights up, no lift, ma'am.  And me dragging this bag from hell, all the while envisioning the "perfect" bag I'd purchased specifically for the trip that turned into a backpack.  You know, pictured it on the floor of my bedroom where I'd left it!  What the hell?

Before that trip I had bought the UGLIEST walking shoes, which I shudder to see when I look at the pictures.  So I learned two things:  Just take what you have and do NOT bring a piece of luggage you can't pick up and carry without falling over.

True, basic points, but live and learn and all that.  So that is why I am hesitant to buy sneakers, because I might get ugly ones!

Anyway, what do I bring?  Do I bring my blender?  I have to!  I can't go for weeks without my smoothies and chocolate mousses and salad dressings that I make in there DAILY.  I just can't.  But how absurd is it to pack a blender?  I have already made peace with the fact that I'm not taking the 200 pound juicer.  But I have to be reasonable here; it's pretty important.  Almost as important as a computer.  Which of course is another problem because my laptop crashed and burned and no matter how many hours I've put into it, it seems to be getting worse.  I am diagnosing it as a shot motherboard ... and am most curious why it's doing it to me NOW, when I need it!  Maybe I'm supposed to unplug for all that time.  I will be honest, I am more interested in the blender than the laptop!

So what size bag is going to fit that, my backpacks, my hiking boots, assorted and sundry other shoes one will need, such as sandals and perhaps one nice pair of shoes ... and then not to mention the clothes.  My brother says to bring stuff to go snowmobiling in the event we jaunt over to Colorado.  Oh, no big deal.  Just throw in a winter pair of boots, jacket, snowpants, mittens, hat, goggles, etc.  NO BIG DEAL.  If I was packing a STEAMER TRUNK.

And so it gets stressful, just thinking about it.  And then I start to have the dreams, and I am thinking this is early, I'm not leaving until the 20th!  That's a lotta dreams to have between now and then.

It is the one thing in life that gets me going.  Seriously, very little bothers me, but having to pack stresses me out.  I HATE IT!  I have this vision of myself as a minimalist, with a small bag, footloose and fancy free.  Hello ... little tough to be fancy free with a blender dragging you down.  And yet, I go through the pros and cons of blender vs. no blender and always return to:  YOU GOTTA HAVE THE BLENDER.

But if I was rational, I would just figure out how to live without it.  Plenty of people live without a high-speed blender, right?  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH.

***

Okay, now this REALLY has me going.  I just received an email from Amazon announcing the Kindle 2.  Oh, and because I bought their first version, they wanted to make sure that if I wanted the second generation, they are letting me know in advance so I can place my order.  Why is this upsetting?  BECAUSE IT IS BETTER.  If I had waited just a few more months, I could have had the sleeker version without the bulk and the too-big advanced page button ... and while none of those things bothered me THAT MUCH before I knew that they were putting out a new and improved version, now I am INCENSED.

:::::::::::::::::::deep breath::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

SONOFABITCH!  If I'd known that they were coming out with a new version in MONTHS I would have held off.  Seriously!  I want the better one!  It's literally half the depth of the one I have.  HALF!  All the people holding it are smiling!  I was a guinea pig.  I even filled out a survey about my Kindle.  And what do I get?  BUPKUS!

::::::::::::laughing::::::::::::::::::::: I am not sure why I am drawn to screaming with my upper case words and swears right now, but I think I need to go chill.  

***

It is now later, and I am still incensed (but not upper case incensed) at the whole Kindle thing.  Bah.  Let's think this through.  It does the same thing, it IS the same thing, the only difference is that it is smaller, lighter, and you probably don't hit the too-big page forward button as much as you do with Kindle 1.  These are NOT big deals.  They're NOT.  (I am working on convincing myself, is it working for you?)  No, me either.

This isn't like Tide you know.  New and improved versions of Tide never affected me like this!

Look how thin it is up there!  Oh, maybe it's too thin.  Yeah, it's too thin.  There IS such a thing as too thin.  Mine is chunky and easier to hold.  SO THERE.

:P

The Facebook Phenom

I have not been a very good blogger as of late, because I have been so busy editing a manuscript.  Which just goes to show, if I had a "real" job, I would never have time to do nonsensical things like blog all day long.  How sad would that be?

Exactly.  But it is done -- or at least I'm not going to look at it anymore because you can ALWAYS find something else to change.  Which is why I have two of my own manuscripts rotting in a digital folder.  And to think I would never consider myself a perfectionist, but when it comes to letting go of a manuscript, I am crazy intent on making it perfect.  Which is subjective to begin with, so alas, it is a hopeless pursuit.

But blogging?  Hell no, I have no visions of grandeur here -- the above paragraph is all sorts of bad grammar and a mismatch of you and I -- but whatever.  Not going to fix it.  Nope.

I have been percolating on an entry about Facebook, which seems to be going nuts the past few months.  I've had an actual account for several years, but I never paid any attention to it.  I noticed that Maddie would spend hours on it, and I would go to mine and wonder, what the heck is she doing in here?  What is there to see?

I just didn't have enough active friends!  I get it now.  And while it is certainly another electronic time sucker upper, the concept fascinates me.  I am a very good friend to have if you will reciprocate email.  Even if you send me a quick note, chances are you will get back a slim novel in response.  The problem with that is that it makes some people feel inferior.  Obviously that isn't my intent, but I will say, hey, how come you didn't write me back.  And they will say, well, I don't know, your email was so long I could never come up with something like that.

And the thing is, you can't convince some people that you really, REALLY don't care what they write back, as long as they make contact at all.  And while my intent is never to out-write them, I do have a few friends who are super talented writers and when I receive their emails, I don't regard them as better than mine ... I look at them as challenges!  Oh!  Think they're funnier than me?  I don't think so! (Well maybe I DO intend to out-write them!)  But that is not something you dash off in a few minutes -- so those are few and far between, especially when we all get busy.

And I say all of this in a thousand words or less to arrive at my conclusion that I believe that one of the reasons Facebook is so popular is because all you have to do is say "I am doing laundry," and you have satisfied your daily writing requirements.  And because so many people do put up things as simple as "I am doing laundry," no matter what you put seems quite classy in comparison!  "I am going to yoga."  And you read that and think, I didn't know Polly went to yoga.  It's just little tidbits of information that come out on a daily basis that if you follow it closely enough (and I am known to get trapped into checking out everyone's comments) then eventually you know what type of activities make up your friend's lives.

Which brings me to another topic:  Who are your friends?  I get asked this by other friends (real friends I might add) who ask me how picky I am about who I confirm as a friend.  Well, it seems pretty simple to me.  If they are a FRIEND, then I confirm them!  If I have never heard of them before, or they found me via the friend finder and their name sounds vaguely familiar and maybe I went to high school with them but we hung out in different galaxies, then no.  Not going to confirm them.  I am not interested in the lives of perfect strangers (well, I am, but not just any perfect stranger!)

The way I look at it is, would you invite them to a big party at your house?  If not, then no, they don't get a glimpse into my life.  And remember, it can be a whole lot more than a glimpse.  I sometimes wonder if people realize how much information just kind of scoots around cyberspace via one contact to another.  I will look through entire photo albums of people I know, but am not friends with, because they are friends with someone I am friends with.  Does that make sense?  If you send a picture to Jane Doe and I am friends with her, I will probably see that picture, even if you have always hated my guts and would NEVER send me a picture.

Facebook also enables you to stay in contact with a wide range of people with little effort.  Instead of writing long, newsy emails to a friend, all you have to do is click on a photo they just sent out and say "OMG, I remember this," or some such comment, and you're good.  You don't have to go into a long and lengthy discourse on absolutely anything.  You could never get away with sending an email that contained four words strung together that don't really even form a true sentence.

It is the lazy man's approach to staying in touch.  It's like the fast food of human contact.  Drive through and move on.  

I had a friend join Facebook on Friday.  I was her first friend.  I went to her page and saw that she had one picture and I made a comment of "You need more friends."

Yesterday when I logged on, I noticed that she had been quite the active one, there were entries on her actions peppered throughout my page.  I went to her page and realized that in the course of ONE day she had gathered over 100 friends.  Because I am competitive, I went to my page to figure out how many friends **I** had! LOL  Seriously.  Like who cares?  I have accumulated my friends over a period of time, but she did it in hours!!!  Here's a situation of showing up late at the party means far less work!  Someone else has already accumulated all the friends you need, just push the button.

I still have some questions as to how smart all of this is -- this plastering of our lives on cyberspace for really anyone to see.  I have drilled it to my kids that whatever is on Facebook STAYS on Facebook and is available to any school, employer or potential spouse the future holds.  So unless you want to be 30-years-old and have your new boss say "Wow, that was some picture of you in college hanging upside down with that beer bong," you probably want to really be careful what you do when there are cameras around.

Which is another thing.  There are now ALWAYS cameras around.  Always.  So in truth, anything you do can show up on the internet within minutes of you committing a stupid pose or act.   And there is no question, if someone wants to use your words or pictures against you, they will.

Like anything, it can be used for evil, so it's always wise to keep that in mind.  But it's an amazing application and I love how many people I am now in semi-contact (I guess you could call it contact-lite) with on a daily basis.  

Now I am off to do laundry.  (Yeah, right!)

Common sense is so damn cool ... wish we had some

I have been feeling so bad for President Obama these past few weeks.  Can you imagine what it must feel like to deal with all the crap this country has going on?  It's kind of interesting that we've never had a president who skipped the country!  But if we were, I would think it would be this guy.  What a mess!

The media has been fairly kind, I would say, overall.  It's not like he's been around long enough to make 8 years worth of heinous mistakes, of course.  I was interested to read his words about making a mistake in regards to the nomination of Tom Daschle for secretary of health and human services.  There are a number of these people who won't pay their back taxes.  Unbelievable, really, but then again, it is probably really, really hard to find a squeaky clean candidate in Washington who has experience and the ability to make some real changes yesterday.  Let's face it, the time is not to start pointing out how bad everyone is:  Hell, we had a criminal president and didn't do a damn thing about it.  So if there is someone out there who can HELP us, then fine, tell him no more not paying taxes anymore.  It's time to be good.

The term "politically correct" is a joke.  It really means to adhere to a certain set of rules set up by a certain group or whatever and which can change at any time.  So.  This whole vetting of potential nominees is ridiculous, and I for one think it has to stop.  How many smart people have we lost to illegal alien nannies?  Or infidelity?  WHO CARES!  Seriously, we've already proven that illegal acts are not that big of a deal, so stop picking on people with minor violations.  And which one of us wouldn't pay a single tax we didn't have to if we could figure out a way around it?

I could care less about Tom Daschle, I am not out tooting his horn one bit.  But I did vote for this president because I truly believed that he had the smarts and the ability to change what America has become.  And if he says that Tom Daschle is the right man for the job, then fine.  But because we care oh so very much for this type of thing, Obama has to stop the ball rolling in health care reform.  I love how the press says well, he may have weathered this storm by admitting he was wrong, but now he better find someone who can do something about the health care crisis.

Oh for CRYING OUT LOUD.  How do we take ourselves seriously ... ever?  What a bunch of hypocritical idiots we can be.  So woo hoo, one down because the press is responsible for vetting out the bad ones if the president's staff can't do it.  Oh yeah.  So how it works is, if you can get into office, once you are there you can break all the rules you want.

Do I have this right?

Been here before

As the economy begins to affect people in a more widespread manner (meaning, as opposed to just on the news, now it's people you know who are losing jobs in all sectors) I think it is interesting how the government is still pushing ahead with this "stimulus" stuff that makes no sense to me, because we as a country have NO money, and we are still shooting out great spurts of cash towards the war and heaven only knows what else. So what are we trying to stimulate?

The economy is reacting to the big party. All parties have to end, it's just the way it is written. You can try and try and try and try to keep it going, but eventually everyone collapses under the weight of too much frivolity. Always. As the cost of homes climbed over the years, I would just roll my eyes, knowing that the day would come where the insanity of million-dollar starter homes would become clear. And even if you were fortunate to sell a home during that market, chances are you had to purchase another one that was equally inflated as the one you sold. I know a lot of people made a lot of money selling property that had skyrocketed through nothing that they had done -- but that was just luck. Yes, it was luck.

History is right there for consideration. I remember the last non-recession we had back in the late 80's. You see, just because the government/media doesn't want to report doom and gloom doesn't mean it's not hovering there on the horizon. I remember thinking back then that it was just like the roaring 20's leading into the depression: oh, the parties we had! The champagne flowed, the excess was rampant. Oh, did we have fun! Seriously.

Then the company that Peter worked for started to get hit by the economic downturn and he was laid off. I don't remember it being a tragic thing. I remember coming home and finding him a bit manic, going through the finances and freaking out, but it wasn't completely unexpected. I was open to anything: Did we need to move? Okay, fine. Then figure out where the jobs were, and let's go! But he decided to start his own company and stay put in this area. Okay, fine. I was working and my income was absolutely necessary, as were the benefits, but my point here is that I did not fear the unknown, and hey, the hangover is the price one has to pay for excess anything.

It just is.

The world does not shut down. When people cut back it is things that weren't all that necessary to begin with. Starbucks has started to shut down stores, layoff employees because people have stopped buying as much coffee -- it's very easy to save a good chunk of change by making coffee at home. Is it tragic that all those people lost their jobs? I don't know. Maybe they'll go to school and learn some type of skill that will take them further in the future.

We need to shift the way we think about living our lives. Living within our means is a starter, and it doesn't have to be about lack.

The party ended a long time ago, we just kept walking around and picking up half-empty drinks and screaming CHEERS anyway. We didn't want it to end. We are stubborn in our attitudes that we deserve so much more than we really do.

We all deserve to live happy and fulfilling lives -- but I think anyone with a big mansion and 12 cars and a million dollar view would agree with me that money does not guarantee that.

So what will we do with stimulus money? What will we buy? For some people, it will be food and gas and other essential bills. I think that the companies that have received these funds and purchased aircraft and superbowl advertising have proven to us that more money does not solve a thing, nor does it teach us any lessons if we continue to stir the pot and create more and more and more DEBT.

What is the point of keeping the automotive industry afloat if no one buys cars? You go by car dealerships now and there are hardly any in them. I always used to wonder how they could sell so many cars when the inventory stretched across acres. So now people will drive their cars a little longer. You know what that means? There will be a need for more auto mechanics because people will need those cars to be fixed instead of turning them in when they start to "go."

Yes, people need jobs, but they need jobs in businesses that can stay in business the old-fashioned way: BY MAKING MONEY! I just can't quite fathom how we came to a place where it made sense to keep people's jobs by scraping up cash and handing it out to them so that our grandchildren's children will pay for it. HUH?

Everytime I fly on a plane, which is jam-packed and there are loads of people in the airport waiting for another flight, I am struck by the absurdity of yet another industry that keeps tanking. Well, it's not because PEOPLE DON'T WANT TO FLY! The customers are there. So where is the problem?

I find this time to be refreshing. The status quo was not working ... it was just one big hellacious party from hell is what it was! You know the party, where the music is too loud and there are soo many drunk people, and they are breaking things, and falling into you, and you are just disgusted and looking for the door, and someone throws up on your shoes and you think "Why the hell am I here? Didn't I stop going to these frat parties a long time ago?" Yeah.

It's time for us all to grow up.

It's not a bad thing, and in your heart you know it's right too. Sure, it was fun, but it never felt quite right after a certain point.

This isn't a bad economy. The one we've been living in was. THIS economy is the future.