Happy birthday Bill!!! Thanks for all the awesome....

Today is William Shakespeare's birthday... I so appreciate all the awesome stories, fantastic words, and how he made even the ugliest story beautiful with those words... he has inspired me several times in my life with his storytelling on the intense and complex relationships that we humans have, along with an amazing insight into the romance of the human heart. So, Happy Birthday Bill... thanks for everything... 

Honesty is simple, isn't it?

Honesty and integrity are things we read about in self-help quite a bit. It's important to be honest with yourself as well as others. If you aren't, then you can't experience truth, love, and openness. This is a challenge today, as it is many other days.

I'd like to start by telling you why I write about these things. I write about my life and experiences mostly to process my emotions and get something out of my head--but also so I can learn what I react to, what triggers are more difficult than others. Everyone has their own views about the tone or intent of a blog. I hope that my readership (all 3 of you!) knows that my tone is always that of someone wanting to share what she's working on, what she is processing or feeling, or what she is striving to gain some perspective on. I've read some comments on other blogs in the last few weeks that accuse other spiritually focused bloggers like me of being narcissists or dictating how someone should feel or do things. That is certainly NOT my intent here. I share because I am sure there are others out there who are like me. I share to not feel alone and to help others feel like someone gets them. To that end, today's madly furious keyboard tapping is about honesty, integrity, and personal truth. It's a topic I'm often writing about because it's one of the core tenets of my spiritual practice.

While existing in this world, one must become realistic about other people and their behavior. I know that the rules and standards that I have set for myself are not the same for others. More than anything else, I believe that it's vital to be honest. Personally, I'd much rather hear an ugly truth than a pretty lie. Lying is ugly. Lies suck. Dishonesty is abhorrent. That is the one thing I have a tough time forgiving. I cannot abide a liar nor can I stomach someone who has no integrity. If I find that someone in my life has lied to me or is acting in a dishonest manner (this includes speaking ill of me or someone I love), then I have to move on. I have nixed many people from my social circles because I caught them in a lie or discovered their lack of integrity. 

“If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.”
― Virginia Woolf

I  firmly believe if you would lie about something stupid, you'll have little trouble lying about something big. I'm not talking about employing tact or doing what you can to avoid hurting someone's feelings. I have tact, but I will not lie to you.... if you ask me if your butt looks big in those pants, I'll tell you that they're not flattering or give you a recommendation for a shirt or sweater that may help lessen the degree to which they don't enhance. If you've got what I think is a bad hairdo but you love it, I'll encourage you to keep loving yourself rather than tell you otherwise. But I digress....

I'm talking about lies. Lies. Telling someone a story that you have completely made up and selling it as the truth. Lies. Telling someone you were Phi Beta Kappa when you weren't even Lambda Lou. Deliberate misleading lies. Obfuscation.

So when I read something that is just a bunch of malarkey, I have a tough time giving it any credence. I also have a difficult time believing anything else that person writes. If you lie to me about one thing, your credibility on any future topic, including whether the sky is blue or grass is green is now completely subject to verification. 

The writer in question wrote about an individual, a series of events, and a situation in life that I remember very differently. This makes me question her integrity. 

Barbara DeAngelis writes, “Living with integrity means: 

• Not settling for less than what you know you deserve in your relationships. 
• Asking for what you want and need from others. 
• Speaking your truth, even though it might create conflict or tension. 
• Behaving in ways that are in harmony with your personal values. 
• Making choices based on what you believe, and not what others believe.”

The trouble I'm having today is reconciling my truth with that of another. Just because someone remembers an event or an individual in a different light, does that change it? 

I suppose that we all have our own truths. We all remember things how they affected us or by the consequences of our own choices and experiences. If a child remembers something differently than we do, does that make her truth a lie? 

I suppose we have come to the challenge of perspective here... there's her truth, my truth, and then there's reality. We probably are both right on some counts, both wrong on others, yet neither of us will ever see the situation the same way the other does. Is she lying to herself? Am I lying to myself? No. We just remember things from different perspectives. As long as we remain true to ourselves and love one another through it, we can still find some common ground, I believe.

As I work through my understanding of this and do my best to not react to those who just have a different life experience, I suppose I'll be sharing more of this aspect of my journey. For now, I thank you for reading. I welcome your comments. 

And as always, namaste.

It's not about him...

Recently I had a conversation with my mother. We were discussing my impending move and she asked me what was in a stack of boxes I have in my shed. They are filled with my ex-boyfriend's crap:  photos, memorabilia from his military service, gifts from his family.... she suggested I set them on fire and be done with it. I've had them for years and it's not that I can't let go, it's simply that I haven't had time to mail them to him. 

I had planned on trucking all that stuff back to Tennessee someday, but that's probably the last thing I want to do with any time off I have. So it sits. 

Why don't I set it ablaze and dance around it naked or painted in woad like a pagan hippie goddess?? I have considered it. I've even giggled with evil glee as I contemplated the color of those flames and the looks on my neighbors' faces as they observe my backyard shenanigans.

Well, despite the obvious joyful revelry that would bring.... it's not about him. It's about me. I will not be the person to destroy treasured mementos, no matter how much I dislike him. I loved him once. I love that man I thought he was, still. He doesn't deserve my kindness, but I give it anyway. 

Why?  The alternative is that I would be transformed into everything I detest:  hateful, spiteful, mean, nasty. And honestly, there's no cause. What we had died a tragic horrible ugly death, yes, but it was years ago. I've moved on, so has he. Even if I dislike it, even if he rubbed it in my face (he has not done so) it's not acceptable to me, to my character, in my own self image...  I cannot look myself in the eye knowing that I had tossed out precious photos of his daughter. 

And no, I don't want them--I am NOT hanging on in some sort of pastlife induced stupor--I truly don't want them around. They're occupying space in my home as well as the headspace they don't deserve. He won't be grateful, or if he will be, I don't care. 

It's not about anyone else in the equation but me. 

I write all the time about loving people in your life who don't deserve it. I support loving random people who act unloving. As hard as that is. It's truly the only way to live my life... the life *I* choose for myself, that is. 

I honor the woman that I am, the relationship that I want with myself, nothing else, by acting in a loving manner in a difficult situation. The goal in my life is to have as much love as I wish for.... I would be acting counter to that goal by choosing to celebrate the destruction of someone else's treasures. 

I might still paint myself with woad and light something on fire. Come on over and join me! ;)

Lessons for a Tuesday...

I've had a hell of a morning. I got up a little late because the wind kept the cats up acting crazy (my feral cats that I feed in my yard so they keep away the vermin). Well when you're feeding crazy cats that now think you're their mom, or at least their benefactor, they hang around your house. Not really a problem, but we've had super heavy winds and the wind gets them frenzied or something. They were out chasing each other meowing and mewing and whatever else all night last night. This fascinates my dog. He has to jump on the back of the sofa (he's a chihuahua) to survey and observe. All night. Every hour or so.

This morning, I'm exhausted. I kept waking up when he would move and run over to the window... I took his collar off. I still woke up. All night long. Then overslept my alarm/snoozy thing. Typical. Damnit. So, I speed through our routine, cutting his walk short (he got plenty of exercise last night!) and get myself out the door nearly on time. Yay me.

As I get in the car, I realize that I have to get gas. Damn. So I stop at the local place just so I don't have to worry about it later. Well, the freakin' cut off valve is broken on that pump, so despite me standing right there it spewed gas everywhere!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ARRRGGGHHH

There were several people outside just staring at me like, Wow. And I tell the gal working there but she just sort of looked at me like I was speaking Swahili. I don't speak Swahili, but I could have been. Damn.

So I clean myself up, my car up, as best I can with a few paper towels by the window washing station and open all the windows despite the 38 degrees we had going on and get my butt to work. I fretted about the environmental impact of the spill and the fact that the station won't do anything about it even if I called and made a big deal about it. My community in southeast Arizona is wonderfully and terribly permissive. But I digress....

I reek of gasoline.
My favorite Dansko clogs are probably ruined...
All I can smell is gas.
I could have been early had I skipped my showering. Not that it matters... all I can smell is gas.
Sigh. hahahahha what a mess!

Anyway, so I'm now at work, writing this, sipping my cup of tea, smelling my nasty ass clogs and chuckling to myself. Lessons. We have all these lessons we have to learn. They never come easy. We never see them for what they are when we're receiving them, but man... do we learn!

I was reminded of this, yet again...

Yesterday, I saw this on the Buddhist Boot Camp Facebook page:
It is said that the universe works in mysterious ways, and it's true: when you pray for strength, you end up in situations that require you to be stronger; if you pray for wisdom, then you're given challenging problems to solve; and if it's patience you want, well.. guess what? You'll constantly be put in situations where you have to wait :)

My lesson for today is never take technology for granted, it often doesn't work when you need it to and you should know what to do if it doesn't. My lesson for today is despite how helpful I am, that doesn't mean others are. Know how to help yourself and don't resent those who aren't able to help you. This isn't their lesson, it's yours. My lesson for today is always bring a spare pair of shoes and don't become so attached to things. They'll be gone or ruined before you know it. My lesson for today is never assume that being mindful and attentive will prevent mishaps. They still happen. 

What are your lessons?