Analysis…

In the panoramic view of ones life, we must realize that although perspective can be  expansive it is also narrow.

It is right in front of us and yet we can live within the confines of our choosing.

In living “the dream”, which, when compared with the norm, seems, in contrast, to be restricting, is exactly what all others only dare to dream.

 

The dating game…at 55…

So, you are suddenly single. You’re not 23 anymore or even 4o for that matter, which, from this view, looks quite enticing. You are feeling free. No more tidy whiteys to wash, no more ‘dates’ with a man snoring in a recliner with the TV blaring the History channel.   You get the picture. You finally have control of the remote. The bathroom is all yours! And, you can sleep ALL OVER the bed.  IT IS GLORIOUS…until…you think about…gulp…dating. Frankly, the only way I can describe it is sucky. Your best friend, who is single and has been single longer than you have, says “Join …..this site…it will be fun”.  Uh, okay, sure. You upload your photo from facebook and create a profile outlining your interests and what you are looking for in a relationship. You ‘like’ him, and ‘wink’ at him and wait for a message. You chat and soon you are having your first date. Let me tell you, THINGS HAVE CHANGED.

For instance, in 1984, you didn’t live with anyone before you were married, or at least you didn’t tell your mother. That is for sure. You were 22 for god’s sake!  . You weren’t expected to have ‘sexual relations’ by the third date. You actually met people through friends or at parties, not on a dating site where a photo and a vapid description lands you a date with some guy who has no clue what you do for a living but feigns interest because he just paid for your coffee.

Then,  what’s next? probably nothing. maybe everything.

Let’s say, you DO meet someone randomly, through a colleague or friend, and, there are sparks, it works out, and you actually ‘have a relationship’. At worst, it will end, at best it will endure. Regardless, it’s not like being married; not married to who you were married to for the last million years. Even if the putz you dismissed was not your dream man, you knew how he liked his coffee, and what movies you could both enjoy. And, excitedly, you began to really like this ‘random’ new guy and thought, hmmmm….he might be it. He might be the next Mr. Whoever.  But because you haven’t dated in eons, you don’t see what your best friend sees. This guy is your ex-husband except that you have feelings for this new guy. You don’t wash his tidy whiteys, and he doesn’t snore in the recliner because he is still trying to impress you.  Sigh.  Danger, Will Robinson, Danger! But, you don’t see it. You don’t move on. You DON’T even know the signs of a commitment-phobe because YOU got married when you and your ex were mere children fresh out of the crib – not jaded or cynical or reluctant to take that exhilarating risk to join forces with an equally naive person. AND, you miss that blind faith. You stay there, with that new person, because it is familiar and you seriously have no clue that you are totally comfortable being ‘married but not married’ all over again.

Here comes the kicker. You are ready. Ready to do a repeat performance of the previous life. Permanently. Voila!  You had no idea that the plan was only your plan. You thought that you were on the same page. You are stunned. Thrown for a loop. Wait. Why is this not working out how I thought it would? Your new significant other indicated, in veiled falseness, that his intentions were simpatico with yours.  Flabberghasted comes to mind when you realize that you’ve been duped, or is it dumped. You are suddenly very alone. Alone in your feelings and just plain alone…because he is gone. Poof! Disappeared. Well, shit!  and a slew of other unsavory words. Welcome to ghosting. A modern cowards version of ‘hitting the high road’. I believe sucky was the word I used above. And it is. Sucky.      But, narrowly escaping duplicate entrapment is a blessing, of course, after you have wept weeks of tears, and spilled miles of sorrow to those who will listen.

Moral to this story.

Actually, I don’t know. I am on a journey. A journey that is continuous. Hopefully one that will lead me to my truth. And, if it includes my special someone, it will be glorious once and for all.

PS Looking for SPONSORS for my awesome site!

 

 

 

Where do I begin…?

In the present, that’s where.

Now. Here. Right now as a matter of fact.

Each moment, each minute, each hour, each day… is the beginning.                                      The beginning of each new action, feeling, emotion and miracle of our life.                          We choose our destiny and who we are and who we become. Coincidence is actually fate.

It is true that we repeat our inconsequential and disappointing moments because we have not learned what we need to know yet. We relive these times until we get it “more right”.

Resolve. yes. I accept resolve. I am learning.I WILL continue to learn. I WILL get it right. And that is because I choose to be true. Be True. A powerful message that I accepted in 1980 and have lost touch with off and on over the years. My mantra for 2017.

BE TRUE.

Success…it’s all relative…

Tonight I want to talk about success. Not as it relates to monetary acquisition but more as it relates to emotional and spiritual acquisition.

So, you ask ? “what exactly do you mean?”

Personal success for me has been centered around the intangible gratification of my artistic contributions. Yes, I have been paid…sporadically and inconsistently for my work. But, that has been inconsequential to my well being. I have certainly, and morosely, over obsessed about the lack of financial infusion to my bank accounts, but that has not pre determined my dedication to the project at hand. Each year that passes,  I consider the fact that I have not contributed to a 401(k) or some other pre-destined retirement plan. I wonder if I should be really worried…and then, I forget that I thought about it at all.

My point is that success is determined by those who own it.

I own it.

Do you?

It’s real…

So, being real, is REALLY hard…at least for some people. It means vulnerability, exposure, truth.

If we are able to maintain a facade of strength, resistance, and avoidance…maybe, just maybe, we can avoid ourselves.

 

duplicity

I know. I am a quintessential vocabularian. It’s my curse.

But I am currently hung up on this concept. Of a sene of deception. The sense of betrayal is prevalent and I smell its lack of loyalty in my midst. I am not comfortable with its presence. Although the unearthing of its truth is painful, I also relish in its exposure.

Bring it on!

 

My Manifesto

Just when I think I’ve finally got a clue about anything, I’m absolutely sure that I don’t.

I am sure,however, that I do have immense faith in the power of belief.

Intangibilities are not what we are taught to believe in. “What you see is what you get”.

ummm….Not always.

What you believe in is what you become, what you live and what others know about you.

It shows in your face and in your actions and in your emotions. It IS you.

So, here it is. I believe in me. I believe in miracles. I believe in what we can and can’t see.  I believe that if we have a strong enough faith in our principals and the people we surround ourselves with, that we can manifest great things.

Raise your glass to belief. Cheers!