Happy 300!

Today is my 300th blog post.


Whoa, that's a lot of typing about random things.


I realized as I perused other blogs, which is the only surefire way that I can make myself drink an adequate amount of water because if both of my hands are typing and clicking, no one ever touches that jar of water sitting right next to me and this means that I get dehydrated, as I am now, which is also responsible for the overnight appearance of three new zits, one on the left cheek, two on the right, which is unacceptable considering next weeks wedding. So reading and guzzling it is. Anyway, I realized that it has been months and months since I posted any pictures with me actually IN them. So here's one I took directly afterward.

Mysterious, yes, I know. Actually it's just bad lighting.


I'm on my mom's living room couch in a sweatshirt with a beautiful white sky behind me. I don't mind it being overcast when it makes the light so ambient and nice. 


Last night a thunderstorm came through and Terry and I, after arriving home through walls of water, stood on the front porch and watched lightning zigzag across the sky. We counted for the thunder, to judge the distance that the flashes were from us (what's that rule again? I have no clue. A second for a mile? For a few miles? I just know that the shorter the closer, the longer the farther. Whatever.)


A chilly wind hit me and I snuggled into his arm. He wrapped both arms around my short-sleeved-bared, goosebumpy ones, kissed my cheek and whispered to me that he wanted us to always be those people that others can tell just by looking are deeply in love. 
I'll take it.
Today, after some Kundalini Yoga whenever my gorgeous fiance comes sleepy eyed down the stairs, we get to tweak the wedding ceremony (it's going to be fabulous. Definitely. And yes, I did figure out a way to stream it online!), we get to go down to Colonial Heights, and he'll hole up in a coffee shop somewhere to write while I have a girl's afternoon with Melissa, an old friend from my hometown.
yay! Can't wait to see you!
Being home is strange. I keep changing and home keeps staying the same, which changes me and it all at the same time, when the two are combined. As I type it is silent besides some birds calling outside - living blocks away from a state park is a blessing, to be sure (except when the coyotes come close, no thanks, and yes, they do live in Virginia). Three nights ago my brother and T stood outside in the backyard, talking, and turned to see two big does calmly walking through our yard. They all gazed at each other, and the deer kept nonchalantly walking.
Love it.


And, as a plus, we haven't felt the house ghost in a while. I think digging up the backyard to look for her body the last time we were in town may have set her to rest, even though we didn't find anything.


Yes, I am serious. It's a long story. But the long and short of it were #1) I felt bad that a person was stuck here, and yes she was, unless T grew long hair and changed clothes really fast and it was him I saw standing at the head of the stairs last autumn and my family has just heard false noises and breathing and walking and stuff over the years, and #2) I didn't want to get married ten feet from a murdered woman's buried corpse. Call me crazy, I can't think it would be good luck.


But anyway, that's done with. Whoa.


Happy Thursday! It's set to be a great one!

Gratitude List

...taken from my personal writings this evening...

I'm grateful to be doing these lists – they put me in a state of mind that I'd like to cultivate more often and intensely. Today, according to the Essenes, is the day of the Angel of Joy. I read the prayer this morning that asks the Joy Angel to descend into my body and the bodies of all people on the Earth, and most of the day has been filled with Terry's and my laughter and lovingly joyful conversation, which I'm also grateful for.

I'm grateful for our growth. We've come so far over these months that it isn't a stretch at all to say that we are actually different people. Our bodies are different – even our bodily proportions are changing. I'll have to get an entirely new wardrobe in Portland – none of my clothes fit anymore! So I'm grateful for the opportunity to be able to recreate my new self through my apparel and appearance.

As I type I smell cookies. Yesterday, a package arrived for me. It contained two small bottles of essential oil – one vanilla flavored, from organic vanilla beans that are pressed in such a way that rather than reminding you of a candle, this smells just like cooking vanilla, only more delicious. The other bottle was lavender flavored, so I've mixed them together on my wrists yesterday and today. I've finally found a smell that isn't harmful to my body (most of the perfumes on the market have dicey ingredients), and that not only describes me, but that smells really good – Terry loves the new scent, which I'm very happy about. So I'm grateful for that, the whole bundle of it. I like having a smell. I remember my mother's perfume from when I was a little girl – it felt so warm and lovely and soft, not to mention “dressy” - spraying it on was the last thing she would do when she got ready, so I thought of the smell as her all dolled up. I haven't smelled it, Avon's Far Away, in probably 15 years, yet I remember it in such detail, I bet I'd recognize it anywhere. I even remember the pink bottle with the black tassel. I'm grateful for those memories.

Today we had a wedding meeting, which included discussion on the very unconventional wedding we're planning together. We talked about entrances (I won't be walking down the aisle, rather Terry and I will be separately walking around the attendants and our paths will, combined, create a circle of sacredness and intention for this ritual, which will include the most important promises we may make in our entire life), and about other parts of the wedding – songs, prayers, the incorporation of aspects of our heritage, which combined include Native American, Celtic, Irish, African, Lebanese, and Italian. I'm grateful for the excitement and sparkle that comes with planning a completely personalized wedding. It will be a wonder, and an evening that we'll never forget.

I'm grateful to be marrying such a wonderful man, who I haven't been able to take my eyes off of all day as he changes before my very eyes through our practices and diet into the best of what he can be. I also have a deep and sweet knowledge that this will only continue. I can sit now and think about amazing growth that has happened in weeks and months to him (and I), and I know that I'll be able to do the same thing weeks, months, and years from now. I am certainly grateful for this. It's such a magical experience, to see my own and my lover's unfolding into our Real Selves.

I'm grateful that we've had the freedom and the opportunity, not to mention the supplies, to undergo this transformation. I know that, had we picked a different path for this year and not come to Texas, these growth spurts would not have happened yet. 

I'm grateful for the time to come. I'm grateful that we've picked Portland, an amazing city, and I'm grateful for the joyful plans that we're making there. I'm grateful for the people now living there who will become our friends and emotional “family.” I'm grateful for the experiences we'll have on the way, and once we arrive.

Today we drove down to the city and Terry bought me an early birthday present – a beautiful flowing dress with a tropical feel to wear on our honeymoon and jewelry to go with. I'm grateful that I now have things to wear to make me feel beautiful (I do like to parade around in front of him, knowing what he sees in me). I'm grateful that my to-be husband is sincere and loving and that he always knows what to say to make me feel loved.

I'm a smidgeroo grateful that I'm about done with this list (in one minute I'll have reached the mandated 15), cause I'm a little tired. I'm grateful for my sweet dreams to come. I'm grateful for the wind chimes that I can hear outside the window. I'm grateful for those plush white linens on the bed across the room that I'm about to sink into. I'm grateful that we'll be awakening early tomorrow, to start a new daily practice of greeting the dawn. I'm grateful for the dawning of new mornings and soft, restful nights.

Now I'm off to bed, gratefully.

Mirrors

Is it true that all our actions, large and small, represent who we are as people?

image found here

That's quite a burden, if you ask me. I'm sure most of us, if we really dive into that question, would laugh nervously and reassure ourselves that, of course not, every little thing shouldn't define us! We're not always on display, right?

right?

Well, I think that's a question we all have to answer for ourselves.

I learned in undergrad about a certain psychological fallacy (I forget the name, but remember the point - does that mean I was a good student or a bad one? Let's not take a vote)...
Anyway, this belief, that ALL of us hold to some degree, says that, essentially, if we do something mean, it's because we're having a bad day. If someone else does, it's because they're a mean person. Of course, this mostly occurs with people we don't know.

For instance, if your checkout person at the grocery store is rude to you, you'll probably give her a dirty look and walk away thinking what a bitch she was.

BUT, if you're eating at a restaurant and rude to your server because the kitchen messed up your order (which, remember, may have nothing to do with that server at all), and if you realize that you're being rude, you won't admit in your mind to being a jerk, the way you thought your check out person was. Rather, you'll blame it on your day, your mood, low blood sugar, fight you just had with your mother, whatever.

(However, your server will probably chalk it up to you being a jackass. Just sayin. All honesty on this blog!)

So, think for a moment about whether everything you do and say represents who you REALLY are.

I mean, other than being embarrassing, we can't argue that it's not true, right?

I know that, for my part, it's not easy to admit that when I don't rush through my morning showers, it indicates that I'm selfish. Not that, at that moment when I could be pulling the razor up my leg more quickly, I'm consciously thinking about how the next person may run out of hot water, but the answer is, yes, I do know that's a possibility. I'm not thinking about it, but the knowledge is is my noggin somewhere. So, if I admit that I take showers that are more lengthy than they need to be, which I do, I must also admit that I'm selfish. (that gives me room to grow, and a piece of humble pie to eat. Both good things in the end)

Of course, this goes both ways, and it means that you can be extra proud of the kind and selfless things you do on a daily basis, large and small. Some people occasionally pay the road toll or pay for the fast food order of the person behind them in line, who they've never met. I LOVE that idea. Some give to people on the street asking for money (a sticky subject, to be sure, but the way I think about it is, if I can spare a dollar, why not? Sure, they may just be going to buy booze, but to be completely honest, if I were where they are I may want to get obliterated too...just trying to be fair. Also, don't forget that a huge percentage of the homeless that you see in those situations aren't mentally sound by current standards. Makes things more complicated, no?)

Anyway, just some thoughts for you. So, today, as you go about your routine, do it as if someone were watching every decision you make, trying to decipher what kind of person you are. I guarantee that, if you do, you'll sleep more soundly tonight :)

Today's quote:
My grandma used to plant tomato seedlings in tin cans from tomato sauce & puree & crushed tomatoes she got from the Italian restaurant by her house, but she always soaked the labels off first. I don't want them to be anxious about the future, she said. It's not healthy. — Brian Andreas

Insomnia

It is currently 4:15am in West Hazleton, PA.

T is asleep across the room and I'm freshly de-makeuped, wearing the boots I bought today (with Christmas money! Yesss!), catching up on blogs, and feeling lucky piled on lucky as I listen to my future husband's steady breathing, and shiver myself, contemplating whether to get up from the floor where I sit and get my new purple fleece Snuggy to wear (some more loot that came my way yesterday).

It may be awhile before I turn in.

Seriously, who came up with the whole coffee-after-dinner idea? I usually stay away from caffeine, but when in Rome, do as the Hazletonians do and drink coffee and stay up until the sun rises as the house sleeps around you and create bleary eyed blog posts...

Anyway.

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday. I certainly did. And I'm steadily accumulating pictures to post a holiday-weekend-in-photos post on Monday, so stand by.

Joy to the world. It's quiet outside, and the snow has been mostly melted by frigid rain from today.

Oops, T just shifted in bed and now his breathing is less even. I ought to stop clickety clacking away on the keyboard (wow was that Dr. Seusian or what)....

Ok, so I don't have my full I.Q. points after 2am. Sue me.

Carrots, signing out. (now it's 4:21)

(Happy Saturday-er Sunday. See you tomorrow.)

This Time

Happy Monday-that-is-the-last-Monday-before-Christmas!

What a week.

Today I'll finish my last proofread of the big scary paper I've been writing lately that has now reached over 40 pages (and it should be under 30 but let's not discuss it and let's also hope my professor doesn't notice because GEEZ I can't take anything out and still have the rest make sense). I'll write my cards and send them out (if you're reading this and are expecting a card from me, it's coming. It'll get there after Christmas I'm sure. My bad). I'll mail off a couple of packages with gifts and such, I'll pick up one more gift for a very difficult person to shop for, and I'll be officially DONE.

That'll feel some kinda nice, lemme tell you.

So this is Christmas week. When I was little we didn't do Christmas or birthdays - it was against the religion of the time, you see. To me, because of the financial difficulty my family was entrenched in during most of my life, that meant no presents. About ever.

I remember playing with a piece of a Barbie I'd found buried in the yard. I'm not kidding. It was a leg and I was intrigued with the way the knee would slightly bend in two clicks, and I fantasized about what it would be like to have an entire actual Barbie of my own to play with.

That may seem a little heavy to y'all, but it's the case. I don't often talk about those types of things on my blog because I want it to be a place where you can come to get a couple of happy-life tips and leave refreshed. That means that, usually, I don't talk about real issues (real = painful). But I'm discovering, as a part of my own ever-expanding learning and development, that sometimes, those things that may be just a bit uncomfortable to talk about are the ones that provide the absolute best lessons and areas for growth and ever-expanding good things both within and without. So, when appropriate, I'll talk about them.

But back to Christmas, and presents.

So I didn't have many toys when I was little. We read instead. Once a week we'd spend the entire afternoon and evening in the library. And we'd take some books home, but we had a decent supply there already. What I did have was books.

But that's off subject. Back to presents. The words said about no Christmas and birthdays were that, regarding presents, this meant that there weren't inauthentic times where you HAD to give presents. Rather, you could give presents whenever you wanted. You weren't ever obligated like you are with holidays, so it would mean more. But, for my situation, combine that with a poor household and you have a childhood with no presents at all. I don't remember ever having the experience of tearing through wrapping paper until I was at least a teenager.

Last night we watched old videos of T's family during holidays - him and his sister going through piles of gifts at a time, giving the obligatory "wow!"s and hugs and thank you's, and I thought as I heard the oohs and ahs of the adults around echo from the old VHS tape what an experience that must have been - to get bunches of things, all for you, because you were loved, a couple of times a year. On the Christmas tape there was also a birthday party for some newly one-year-old cousin. I saw her little smile beam as at least 20 adults sang her "happy birthday" praises, and I thought about what that must do to the brain and spirit, to have that many people around just becasue they love you, and to have them sing to you, and look at you, and smile at you, all at once. What must it do to a one-year-old to be the loved center of the universe for a day. What a blessing for that child!

Nowadays Christmas is lost in the rush and bustle and doing of stuff, not to mention the buying of it and the giving of it. I don't think there's a thing wrong with that. Christmas is about, for me, bringing joy to others because now, more than at any other time, it's accepted to show your love and appreciation for those in your life that you always love and appreciate (but saying it all the time would be awkward).

So just remember what you're doing. And feel it.

And enjoy the week :)

What's that? Another road trip?

My mother is graduating this weekend.
(go Mom!)

Fresh out of high school, she had a full ride into VCU, pre-med. She was going to be a surgeon.

Once, at about age 8, she apparently opened up a live frog in her yard, to "see how everything worked." (Not so humane, but very medically oriented, yes?) She stitched him back up and he hopped away.

I'm not kidding, he really did.

At least that's how the story goes.

And he probably hopped off to go someplace and breathe his last froggy breath, but who knows? He may have lived a long and happy (in frog-years) life and his descendants may still live on Clay Street.

Anyway.

At the last minute, she decided instead to go be a missionary (she was a Jehovah's Witness at the time, so it was actually called "pioneering".)

A few months later, she was introduced to her roomate's big brother, and less than a year after that, she became Mrs. Brown.

So medical school didn't work out. But it all came together in the end, I say. But, obviously, I'm biased because had she not blown off school, I wouldn't be typing this blog right now, at least not with these fingers (a.k.a. in this body, with these parents, with these particular chilly toes, but now we're getting into deeper stuff so let's come back up to the surface and-)

Any.Way.

Fast forward a couple of decades, and she's back in school, this time not for the medicinal type stuff (although she does work for/go to school at a college that houses quite a nice medical school)-

And she graduates this weekend.
(again, Yay Mom! Congrats!)

So, long long story still pretty long, I'm headed down to Richmond tomorrow morning.

For the past few weeks I'd thought her ceremony would be in the evening. I found out an hour or two ago that, no, it's actually at 10:00am.

So, since we're also confirmed to go see Tara sing tonight here in Hazleton (she's a musician and headed out to LA in the spring, small world), we'll be doing that, getting roughly 4.3 hours of sleep, and loading up the car at 3:00am in order to make the 10:00 ceremony.

Good times.

Have a great evening. I'll be google mapping it up. (I just don't trust my GPS these days. I think she may have schizophrenia)

Today's quote:
The mind WILL be free, or it will be dead.
~Grace Llewellyn

ps: My dress came yesterday. More on that later, maybe....

Procrastination Station

I can say with 100% certainty and only some self-consciousness that I am absolutely, definitely, full out and to-the-bone good at something.

Procrastination.

In fact, I'm doing it right now!

Last night, after an afternoon spent on my computer and NOT working on my paper due this week (my, how many interesting things there are to do instead!), I walked into the (soon to be) in-laws' kitchen, where delicious eggplant rotini (dunno if I spelled that right but you catch my drift) was baking, and announced that if I could make a living off of procrastinating, I'd be a millionaire.

("Lots of people would be," T said in reply)

But alas, I'm not a top-notch professional procrastinator (despite my natural talent), instead I'm a holistic health and wellness consultant, a.k.a. life coach, so, among other things, I actually help other people NOT procrastinate (as I expertly do, all the while, sometimes while I'm convincing someone else not to. I know a lot about the subject, so I'm the one to come to. It all makes sense in the end....)

I come from a long line of procrastinators. Why I couldn't have inherited musical genius instead, which also occurs in my family, I don't know. Oh well. I'll take my mom's lips and my dad's feet and the milkman's eyebrows (not really, but seriously, sometimes I wonder where I came from, compared with my siblings) and go with it.

And I guess that leads me to the end of this blog entry and the beginning of what I ought to be doing.

hmm, maybe I'll turn up the heat first....and I still need to write my daily 2 pages....oh! And my dress should arrive today!....

What was I saying?

Today's quote:
Choices are the hinges of destiny.
~Edwin Markham

Love Actually Is All Around

It's Christmas time.

How do I know?

Well, there are a few clues that have found their way into my musings.

#1) Thanksgiving is over and done with. Mine was spent with family that I haven't seen in years, and although that makes for awkward conversations because you often don't know what the heck to talk about to someone you haven't spoken to in a decade, especially when there are 60+ people present, it also means that, heck, you get to talk to people you haven't in ten years! It's a strange thing, when the elders in your family transform from the important and aloof head honchos to something closer to peers - people who you can really talk to.
That's a problem with our world here in the break-neck-paced US of A. Not many people really talk to each other.
Anyway, all in all it was good times. And T and I neatly avoided both offense and tummy aches by having just a little of the holiday carnivorous fare. (bring more collard greens my way, they were AMAZING)
Being a vegger isn't easy at holiday time, lemmetellya.

#2) When we arrived in Hazleton on Friday, after a morning of Black Friday shopping (up at 3:30 and back in bed by a quarter to seven - there wasn't much I needed this year in stores. Ebay's now my best friend. Seriously. Not to mentioned things remembered, red envelope, overstock, etsy, can you tell I'm shopping online? SO convenient), and an afternoon of driving (barely skirting the Nothing, Never Ending Story style, and happy to only have a little hail splashing our windshield), the lights and decorations were up! I gasped in delight at the town center's tree, glowing from bottom to top, and I cooed in delight at the sweet holiday reminders hiding in sweet places all over T's parents' house. Warm and cozy. Just right. Especially when I realized that I'd left all of my winter coats down in Richmond. I thought I'd cry. It was a sad moment....

#3) I'm wearing my winter smell as of roughly two weeks ago and LOVING it. It's the little things, ya know?

#4) We watched Love Actually last night. After I watched it, laughing and crying, for the first time in '04, on a warm Floridian couch after the movie had been rented from Netflix (I'll admit it, I was late on the Love Actually bandwagon but I've made up for it since), it has been a permanent staple of my holiday season. Christmas hasn't started until I've seen 11-year-old Sam say "let's go get the sh*t kicked out of us by love"... It may not make sense, but it's the way things just are in the noggin. I need some Hugh Grant dancing to the Pointer Sisters, and I'm ready to go. His particular limp-shouldered-shuffle reminds me of my Dad. Sorry Hugh.
And Dad :)

So, as described above, the Christmas season has officially arrived for me. What about you? What are your go-to signs that it's time to break out the egg nog and peppermint bark?

Today's quote:
"Each friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."
~Anais Nin

Just Because It's....Sunday?

...actually it's Saturday night, but close enough to Sunday in this noggin of mine...

No, more like because it's gorgeous.

And gives me goosebumps every time I listen to it. Non-wearing-off goosebumps from the same song, now that's a rare and valuable thing.

Enjoy :)



Note: maybe I'm approximately seven thousand years behind the curve, but this is a new song to me. Either way, as of now I'm officially obsessed with it. Done and done.

PS: Allison Crowe is amazing. Well, obviously.

On a bored Wednesday night in Richmond...

Not to mention, a chilly and rainy and all around make-you-wanna-stay-indoors-at-all-costs night......chilly beverages from Trader Joe's hit the spot.

Just sayin.

Today's quote:
"A few days ago I walked along the edge of the lake
and was treated to the crunch and rustle of leaves
with each step I made. the acoustics of this season
are different and all sounds, no matter how hushed,
are as crisp as autumn air."
~Eric Sloane

De-Lurking....and....GO!

Good evening lovelies.

It is currently 8:01pm and I am feeling a need to connect...

...these things happen when one leads a nomadic lifestyle...

(if you're wondering, the drive down from PA was uneventful and we're back in Richmond now, until after Turkey Day.)

So anyway, I am making today (today = whichever day you, yes YOU, are reading this post) national de-lurker day!

I'd love to hear about you.

Where do you live? What do you like? Why do you visit my little corner of the blogosphere?

...I'm feeling disconnected and I'm not a fan of that at all y'all....
(wow I just made a rhyme...)

So speak up! Let's get to know each other.

As for me, I'm sipping a glass of Well Red and eating a delicious Trader Joe's dark chocolate truffle choc bar, DELICIOUS. And T is in the adjoining room reconnecting with some college buddy or the other on the phone (that boy and his woodwork friends, love it)...

Anyway, have a lovely day!

And I wasn't joking about de-lurking. I'll be checking my comments. Say hi! (I'm lonely here in the RIC where I know no one)...

On the Road Again...

This morning we'll pack
again
and load up the car
again
to drive
again
back down to Virginia.

I kid. I'm not really annoyed about it... I actually like driving long distances, it gives me a chance to clear my noggin - and let's be honest, there's no jamming quite like car jamming.

On another note,
The sky has been mostly gray and overcast during our stay here in PA, and I have it under good advisement that it'll be this way, more or less, until spring dusts green on the world again in, oh, maybe 6 months or so.

After a chat discussing the merits of sunny California skies over gray Pennsylvania ones, I had an epiphany. Yes, of course the cloud cover can be seen as oppressive and sad. It could be viewed as a cover pressing down on you, keeping out the light in more ways than one. Don't levels of depression go up in winter months and aren't they always higher in cloudy cities?
But.
The cloud cover could also be seen as just that - a cover - a blanket. Snuggling you, tucking you in, holding you safe during the winter. I know that it doesn't make logical sense. Less clouds make you warmer, let the sun in, clouds don't in any real way keep you safe, blah blah blah but go with me here.

As someone who's lived without any seasons to speak of for years and years, there's a richness that I'm feeling in my life now that I have the luxury of staying in tune with the cycles of the year in this way. What if we took winter, and the chill, and the rich food, and the involuntarily slower life style and did with it the same thing that nature does? Rest, and germinate? Spend the winter months in the home, with each other, enjoying their company and planning for the next year? Then, when the summer comes, we'd spend our lives out and about, enjoying the sun, eating lighter foods, living as nature does, vibrantly and loudly and brightly? (not to mention tanned and toned, which I'm sure would happen)...

Of course, that would also require that we make it an everyday practice during the summer to get out and enjoy the weather when it's enjoyable...and nowadays most people spend all their time holed up inside, no matter the season, being entertained by various forms of electronics...

But you can bet your buttons that's what I'll be doing, especially now that time outside has lowered in availability such that the demand has increased exponentially (within me, at least!)

Oh yeah, and a quick note on Vitamin D.
Vitamin D, which comes to us in various foods (although, since it's usually added in from a lab, our bodies don't really absorb it that way) and via sunlight against our skin, is cited as one of the possible reasons that we get all sad and stuff when it's dark outside in times like winter and rainy seasons. Or the lack of Vitamin D, anyway. However. All you actually need in order to stay within a healthy Vitamin D range is 15-30 minutes of sun on your face and hands each day. Yes, even in cloudy weather. And, as I always used to tell my students in my health and fitness classes, cloudy days DON'T actually mean less UV rays. We just assume they do (which results in lots and lots of sunburns in rainy Florida, lemme tell ya).

So I don't think it's the lack of actual sun in winter that gets people down. I think it's the uninviting conditions outside that make us not want to go out at all. If we do go outside, even for a half hour walk or run or raking of the leaves or, heck, conversation on the phone standing in the back yard, we'll be fine.
So there you go. Put on your gloves, grab a friend, and adopt an early-evening walking practice. You'll be happier. I promise.

Happy chilly Monday!

Today's quote:
"Let us not look back in anger or forward in fear, but around in awareness." ~James Thurber

Happy Autumnal Equinox!

This morning I wished the facebook universe a "happy fall equinox!" and promptly discovered that many people don't know what that is.

Well then, let me enlighten you on its interestingness.
yes, I have been known to put a "ness" on the end of random words and thereby make up new ones. Get over it.

So we all know that days in the summer are longer- judging by daylight - and days in the winter are shorter. I remember wondering why in the heck, when it was cold outside, Mom came home so LATE from work when I was little...yeah, it wasn't any later than normal, it was just that in Virginia winters, the sky darkened at like 5:15pm. Not cool for a 7-year-old.

Anyway.

The equinoxes, two each year of course (one for fall, one for spring) are the days on which the amount of daylight and the amount of darkness are the same. They're the balancing points. Since today is the fall equinox, starting tomorrow the nights will now last longer than the days, until the spring equinox (which falls in March, I believe).

source

In ancient times, when people's spirituality was based on things like the harvest and the sun and its warmth, today held great significance, as it stood for the end of the light's reign for the year. Lots of stuff about winter myths, withdrawing for the cold and dark season, etc. There were various stories in many diverse cultures that explained this (Demeter, the Greek goddess comes to mind), but either way you have the general idea.

Although most of us don't still hold to that sort of thinking, I still like to take time on the equinoxes to feel the turning of the year. The fact that the nights will now be longer does hold significance for me; it will certainly affect my way of life - where I go, what I do, when I get sleepy....

I also think my life is sweeter and holds more meaning when I keep myself in tune with what's happening in nature. It is a restorative practice for me to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for the winter, which is lovely as a time of quiet, and rest, and hot chocolate, and of course the holidays (yay!) - not to mention that because of the move (this weekend, whoa), I will actually have a cold winter, not to mention a white Christmas (double yay!), which makes the equinox all the more poignant for me this year.

So maybe try to jump on the equinox bandwagon - take a moment today to reflect on the year, the spring and summer, and now the upcoming Autumn. How was it? What did you like? What did you not like so much? How can you make this the best autumn and winter possible? For me, it'll include enjoying every drop of this crazy road trip and all of its accoutrements, and to make sure that I take full advantage of the freedom and the potential to reconnect that all of this time spent with loved ones will bring. Who knows the next time that I'll get to see everyone this much, maybe never... So make some goals! Remember where you are! And happy autumnal equinox! (now you know what that means)

Today's whiteboard quote:
"The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make one."
~Elbert Hubbard

Motown Philly Back Again...

Last night T and I had dinner with my mentor. Then we walked back to the hotel along Santra Cruz Avenue in Los Gatos, talked to his family on speakerphone, and admired the year-round lights Los Gatos hangs in their trees (LOVE it).

Then we had wine and chocolate and youtubed all the great R&Band pop hits from 1988-1999, and relived our tween years. Good times.

Today's quote:
"Life is raw material. We are artisans. We can sculpt our existence into something beautiful, or debase it into ugliness. It's in our hands."
~Cathy Better

Back To...

This section is devoted to disorders usually first diagnosed in infancy, childhood, or adolescence. This division of the Classification according to age at presentation is for convenience only and is not absolute. Although disorders in this section are usually first evident in childhood and adolescence, some individuals diagnosed....

Does this sound interesting to you?

Yeah, me neither.

It's from the DSM-IV Desk Reference, a thick little gray spiraled book that will put me right to sleep before I even turn a page....and what is my required reading for a fall course. Argh.

So school starts again next week! And I'm excited, if for no other reason than that I get that much closer to being finished (who knew that this 5 year-long PhD program would have encompassed so much time! You know what I mean?), and because of course my brain doesn't quite know what to do with itself when it's not learning something. An entire lifetime of school will do that to you.

So, year 4 is set to begin! On next Friday, to be exact. But from now til then, I'll read up for my courses, and try to stifle my yawns.

Who am I kidding - I never stifle yawns.

Not even last night when I was out at some bar in Santa Monica after an aborted Edison trip, and I was acutely aware yet again that I'm an old person who can't have a cognizant conversation after 9:45pm. Even with coffee and In & Out Burger. Wait, maybe the In & Out is what put me to sleep....Hmm...it's a theory...

Happy Friday eve!

Today's whiteboard quote:
"Take everything you like seriously, except yourselves."
~Rudyard Kipling

Naked Dream

So I had a naked dream last night.

No, not the kind that you're thinking.

One of those where you're not happy about being naked. I had these a lot in high school and college, where I'd be at work or in the dining hall and be aware that I was in only my birthday suit, and realize that everyone else knew too. So what would I do? Just pretend that it wasn't happening. My naked dream logic is that if I act like it's not a big deal and I'm not worried about it, everyone else will too. Strange, I know. But it always works. With dream-people, that is. They're pretty gullible, those neural creations of mine..

Half the time I realize that I'm in a dream when I have weirdo ones. Of course, when I don't realize it, they're still super vivid and realistic and when I wake up I am shocked that it was, in fact, a dream. Over the years I've gotten better at my dream-behavior once I realize that I'm asleep.

Just about a year ago I had a dream where I worked in a hospital (I did work in the cardiology department of VCU several years back, so it wasn't much of a stretch) and crazy dreamish things were happening, and when I finally realized that my surroundings were totally fiction, I looked at my imaginary dream friend, sitting across the table and asked her with a smirk, "So, how does it feel to be a dream person?" Her eyes widened in surprise as she started to think about the question. I suppose she hadn't gotten the memo.

More recently, I had an apocalyptic dream with T in it where there was some crazy violent political takeover happening (WW2 style), and we were being herded off to some type of holding place, and I looked at T eventually, realization dawning upon me, and said something along the lines of this not being our life, and this totally having to be a dream. So we just hung out until I woke up.

Anticlimactic, I know. Like many things. We won't go into the crazier dreams, where I start karmic life/death sequences that will go on for all of eternity or I fly swinging through treetops, or when I work in a top-secret government underground laboratory and get shot in the neck and have to hold my head on. We also won't talk about the ones where I exorcise houses in a time loop and dissolve demons with my bare hands, but they happen. Oh yes, they do.

But, as usual, I've digressed.

Last night's dream had me in the shower, trying in peace to shave my armpits while the room went from a bathroom to a living room with a steady stream of people filing in, to, on the other side, a Chipotle restaurant (I think). Either way the shower curtains were in segments rather than one complete sheet so everyone could see in, and people working in the Chipotle assembly line were whispering about it. One of the characters from Weeds (which T and I watched before bed) was looking through from the other side, as if I were bothering her with my minding-my-own-business-showeringness. Not a very nice person in my dream, that girl...(it was Quinn, in case you're wondering...)

As I often do in these dream situations, I pretended like I didn't notice my lack of shower privacy, and went on to pick up the razor after the first aborted attempt at shaving, noticing that it now had like 9 blades rather than the usual 2 or 3. Strange, yep. But I acted as if it were normal, as I mentally tried to figure out how not to cut off my arm accidentally (and no dream nicks are reported at this time).

So there you go.

What in the world could this mean?

Oh, probably something about revealing myself and my life to the world in my blogs and in various other places online (which T and I have differing opinions on - he's more of a private person, but as you can see, I am not), and about my worries about A Luminous Life's success (which I'm sure is normal among new business owners), not to mention about the strangeness that will be involved in the awesome exciting new thing that I'm still holding out on blogging about (not gonna share it yet, waiting for the perfect time cause it's a big deal), and that's probably about it.

I don't know what the razor means....but I came out unbloodied so I'm still thinking that I'm all good with that one...

How did the dream end?
My alarm went off.
And no, I didn't cut myself shaving in the shower this morning. And we have doors, not curtains on our shower so I'm good there too.
(as far as I know the closest Chipotle is at least 3 miles away as well, which is a relief...)

Happy hump day!

Today's whiteboard quote:
"And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."
~Anais Nin
(I really love that one. I think it'll end up on my wall.)

You'll Never Believe This

Last night, in his Jeep on the way home from LAX, B told me that I cannot post this on my blog. "You'll lose all your credibility," he said. "No one will ever believe it."

So what am I about to do?

Why, post it on my blog, of course.

Yep.

*******

When T and I visit his parents in Pennsylvania, we sleep in the basement/rec room. There's a hid-a-bed couch down there, as well as the normal den type things: old pictures, a spare computer or two, a bathroom, a laundry room, old books, etc.

The both fantastic and disconcerting thing about the basement too, is that it's just about pitch black, all the time. There are wooden shutters blocking light from the above-ground windows near the ceiling, and when you close them and turn off the overhead lights, your circadian rhythms (a.k.a. the things that wake you up when sunlight floods your sleeping eyelids) go down the tubes.

Great for sleeping in after a 3 hour time change, bad for productivity and making breakfast/brunch appointments.

In addition to the increased ability to sleep in (which I'm very grateful for as I've long been cursed with an early-riser tendency), I'm affected by the utter darkness when it comes to my dreaming.

I have funky dreams.

At least, for the first several nights I do. Which ordinarily means that on the night before we leave, I sleep like a log. True to form on this visit, I dreamt about hurricanes, murderers, insane asylums, and post-apocalyptic scenarios in which computers had taken over the world internet-style (as in them being invisible but everywhere), and could read your minds laptop-with-a-wireless-network-card-style, which meant that although I was leading a subversive group, I could only think of the revolution in snippets, of a duration of less than two seconds each.

No, I never said I was normal.

Anyway, on the worst night, actually the one with a combined insane asylum, murderer, horror movieish flash-forwards filled with blood and guns, and ghosts reminiscent of The Ring (SO scary) dream included, I woke T up in the middle of the night and he put me back to sleep with a Ben Folds song:

Goodnight, goodnight sweet baby
The world has more for you
Than it seems
Goodnight, goodnight
Let the moonlight take the lid off your dreams

We took a small flight
In the middle of the night
From one tiny place to another
And my parents they remained
At the shack with Lorraine
And my aunt and my Grandpa and brother
We walked past the tarmac
And boarded the craft
The rain had me chilled to the bones
Just the three of us took flight that night
Uncle Richard, me and James Earl Jones...

It worked like a charm and I was out cold by the last line.

The next morning, both T and I had that song still playing in our heads, and we got on a James Earl Jones discussion. Yes, he's a great actor with an amazingly deep voice, not to mention stellar diction. Was he English, T asked? No, American, I think, I replied. But wait, I wondered, hadn't he died? Hmm....I racked my brain as I tried to recall movies I'd seen him in lately. Nope, there haven't been much. I think he passed away.

No, T said with confidence. He's definitely still around. But I wasn't convinced. With all of the legends who've left us in the past few years, I was pretty sured that JEJ was one of them. We decided to IMDB him later, but never got around to it.

So days passed and we went hiking and out for dinner and then left super super early to avoid any mishaps in this flight, and checked in, printed our boarding passes, and got drinks and french fries in the airport to kill time. We found a spot to sit on the floor of our gate by a window, and watched the rain fall on jets outside.
Finally, our row was called and we stood in line to scan our tickets, then waited in the vacuum cleaner hose (my name for it since I was little, not mature but I like it), and as I cringed from the cold winds and water droplets sneaking into our space through rips in the hose's canvas, we finally made our way onto the plane.

I was off in my own world of pondering random things, like how I could see the tarmac WAY below as I stepped onto the plane, but didn't flinch when my foot fell right along the seam - isn't that counter intuitive? -when T looked back over his shoulder at me with a smirk that he was trying to hide. I recognized "the eyebrows" at once.

"Charis, I think our question is about to be answered."

I had no idea what he was talking about.

However, as he shuffled forward, my eyes fell on the first passenger, seated on the first row, wearing a sharp light gray suit and reading a magazine in his lap.

It was James Earl Jones.

I nearly fell over.

I felt my lungs spasming and I in no way cooly walked past, incrediby embarassed because I can't abide being one of those people when there's a celebrity around, but I couldn't help it.

How weird was that?

And I knew that, if he in any way was conscious of us, he certainly knew that we were having a fit about him being there, but I just couldn't think of a polite way to explain it, so we just passed and I did my best to smother my laughter and "I can't believe it!" outbursts in T's shoulder blades.

"Now we just need to find an Uncle Richard," he muttered to me, as I dissolved into a giggling puddle on the floor.

The End.

Yes, it did really happen.

Today's whiteboard quote:
"The best day of your life is the one on which you decide your life is your own. No apologies or excuses. No one ot lean on, rely on, or blame. The gift is yours - it is an amazing journey - and you alone are responsible for the quality of it. This is the day your life really begins." ~Bob Moawad

Peeping Tom

It's Lady Godiva day!On this day in the year 1057, Lady Godiva rode through the streets of Coventry, naked as a jaybird.

Why did she do it?

For the people!

Apparently her husband (the earl) was oppressively taxing them. She'd appealed to him over and over to let up on it, but he always denied her. Eventually, he called her bluff, saying that he'd relax his crazy taxes if she'd ride through the streets naked.

Guess she told him!

The best part is that they were both religious. Great church benefactors, in fact. So she wasn't some harlot just showing her immoral self (for the times - with all that hair she wore more than most of us do to the beach, I must say). Gotta love a woman who balance both spirituality and independent thought! My kinda girl!

Lady Godiva was a notable horsewoman too, and she may have been a widow when she wed the earl. Quite an independent woman for her times, I say.

Nice forerunner for the rest of us!

So sure enough, she did it. Of course, being a lady, she first sent out a proclamation that everyone had to be inside with the windows shuttered. After the streets were empty (or so she thought) she made her ride, and got her way - the people of Coventry got the benefits of her wager with her husband (less taxes). Good for the earl for not chickening out.

Now, this being at the time that it was, with modesty and 7,000 layers of clothing and the sight of an ankle driving men to madness with the lust of it all, etc., do any of us honestly think that no one was watching her, taking an eyeful while putting a finger between the shutter and the edge of the window?

Heck, I'm sure everyone saw it.

But, according to legend, one man, a tailor actually, watched her and went blind. Dang.

Who was it?

Well, that's where the name Peeping Tom comes from.
(...and that's your nugget of useless knowledge for the day. You're welcome.)

Of course, some say that she was clad in a shift (an undergarment, kinda like a slip), so not actually naked, and some even say that her "nudity" was just bling-wise: she may have just ridden stripped of all her jewelry.

But I think that the better story is the jaybird one, no?
So that's what I'm going with.

In other news, I feel bad today about still not having done a vlog (I'm thinking I'll comandeer T's macbook this weekend, which does have a working mic, and make one) so here's a still:
(the smugness evidenced above is because it's Friday, duh.)

Today's whiteboard quote:
"Happiness is that state of consciousness which proceeds from the achievement of one's values.
~Ayn Rand

Hearting this Friday

And a happy Friday to you all!

I feel compelled to say something here, before I start with one of my usual posts.

My presence on a couple of news blogging sites has given me a couple of epiphanies over the past couple of days. I've always been too empathetic to a fault (trust me, that is NOT a good thing when you're me), and yesterday, after spending most of the day following what's happening in Iran with bated breath and a clenched stomach (my appetite is the first thing to go when I'm upset), I was nearly incapacitated. By the time I got home, I was an emotional wreck. I had a glass of water and sat on my couch, staring out of the window, eyes unfocused, for awhile, which would likely have turned into all night if T hadn't snapped me out of it.

Don't get me wrong, I think when things like that happen being emotionally wrung out and filled with despair at the state of things is how it is an appropriate way to feel. However, a good chunk of that despair stemmed from the knowledge that I could do absolutely nothing to help the situation, considering my position in the world and the resources that I have at my disposal. About the only contribution I could make was to post some links and hopefully make some people aware of what was happening who hadn't previously known (because one of the big problems was that all communication by the general public was being cut off by those who are in control of such things over there), and I had already done that. I knew that people were dying, terrified, and watching other people die, right then, as I was sitting on my couch, and there was not a thing I could do about it.

I'm also a firm believer in the energy of places and of a people, and I think that the more joyful you are, the more joy you bring into the world - through the joy you put out, and hopefully by making the people you interact with more joyful as well (and vice versa, of course). To that end, me sitting there and feeling a quiet panic, thinking that maybe the world is a horrible place, makes that thought closer to the truth. So, with those caveats in mind, not only was I not helping, on a more subtle but larger scale, I was making things worse.

As a person who's been lucky enough to live in a place where I am free and have the resources and abilities to create a happy and fulfilling life, don't I have a responsibility to do just that, in the interest of what I hold to be true?

I know it's a silly thing, but I think there's real truth in that simple religious song about "this little light of mine."

So, what is it, in all truth and objectivity, that I am able to do, in order to make a difference in the best way that I can given my resources, blessings and talents? Well, I've got this blog. And I have the ability to pour my thoughts onto my keyboard and onto the web, and I have the training and knowledge that has taught me to consciously create a happy life and to interact with others in a way that I believe increases goodness in the world, pushing the opposite out for lack of space to thrive. So, I can tell other folks how to do that, and hope that sometimes it makes a difference to someone, somewhere, who will now approach their day with an outlook that makes the world a better place in their own little way. After all, we're all just living our own little lives, but together, we make up all of the people of this world. If we all chose to be a little more happy, compassionate, and loving, what kind of a place would we see when we looked out of our window?

So, I think that, even though I'll stay up on what's happening (and relay information when doing so would benefit someone), my place is not to be a relayer of all of the craziness that are current events. My place in this world is to be a sanctuary of peace and of mindfulness, and a reminder (no matter how small my influence is) that we are all creating the lives that we're living, and the world that we're living in.

So on that note, I'm back to my old blogging antics in 3..., 2..., 1

And thank all that is holy that today is Friday, because I think one more day at the office is all I can handle! I'm in major need of a weekend - getting up at 5am on a Saturday and making the four-hour drive to visit my Dad (and his scary parrot) sounds like a plan to me. Remember those paintings I've been working on for his living room for months? Well, one of them is halfway done.

Hmmm, what to do....

I'm bringing up the panels and my paints and brushes, and I'll finish mine while he paints his own danged painting! I think that's a good call :) (happy father's day, here ya go....)

Today's whiteboard quote:
"Experience shows that success is due less to ability than to zeal. The winner is he who gives himself to his work, body and soul."
~Charles Buxton

Random Pictures and Fun Facts

I've been tagged by m'girl PDO, so here goes:

The tenth picture in the first folder under 'pictures':T and I being silly at a tiny and minimally gross dive bar about a ten minute walk from our house. The four roomies had been sitting at a table, having drinks, and playing on the PhotoPop machine for about an hour and a half, so that explains the pervading goofiness.

Now, the second part of the tag - 10 things about myself:
1) The texture of onions creeps me out (canNOT handle it)
2) I've been skydiving twice (once tandem, once AFF)
3) My sister's been skydiving over 500 times (although I don't know if that counts as a fact about me, but it's my blog and I can do what I want)
4) I have absolutely no cold tolerance, although I was raised in VA. Doesn't make sense to me either. ("You're obviously descended from a tropical people", T says when he feels my frigid feet on an 80 degree afternoon. Don't know whether that's a complement or not...)
5) I drink my water out of a recycled glass Tazo Tea bottle (very green of me! And it stays cold unlike it would if in plastic and doesn't taste like metal unlike it would in a stainless steel bottle)
6) I have blonde hair on my arms and no idea how I lucked out on that one considering how dark my hair and skin is (yessss)
7) I have two master's degrees and, at the moment, don't use either of them
8) My favorite ice cream flavor is cookies and cream
9) I heard "Brick" by Ben Folds Five on the radio last week and it totally made me cry (tears streaming, who knew? I've heard that song 5 zillion times and nothin), and...
10) I'm an ordained minister (yep, seriously! I've even officiated at a wedding. And no, I didn't get my ordination in order to officiate at the wedding...)

And by the way, there's a new Pink Spoon snippet up. You can go see it here...

And on another note, here's another picture from the shoot last week: