The Beautiful Answer

Month

October 2011

32 posts

Why Stress is Important

So much has been written about stress in that past few years that’s it’s practically become a buzzword. If someone stubs a toe, they’re “stressed,” or if they have a bad day, their adrenals are about to give out. In short, media messages about this phenomenon have replaced our collective ability to think for ourselves, or measure what’s actually going on inside our bodies. 

Personally, I’d rather not have stressed-out days. I’m sure we all would. But over the past few weeks, I’ve come to think about stress in a new way, perhaps a counter-intuitive way. Today, my first day back after several days spent traveling, getting very little sleep, and worrying about certain aspects of my “performance,” I saw that stress had pushed me farther than I would probably have gone without its presence in my life. I had pushed beyond my perceived boundaries without really thinking about them, and found that they were scary, sure, but also more doable than I might have thought. 

So though too much stress, or adding to stress by creating mental or emotional judgments may not be great for us, stress may actually have a positive impact in our lives. Today, I reframed the idea of stress in my life by picturing it not as the heated or even boiling feeling in can be my body, or the buzzy feeling it unleashes in my brain. I saw it as fertilizer sown into the soil. I saw it as light and sun and the slow finger of nature coaxing me on. Releasing the idea of “right” and “wrong” outcomes to my life’s events, I saw the projects, thoughts and ideas I’d worked into the dirt with my intentions begin to sprout, then shoot up and bloom, like magic. 

Oct 31, 2011
#bloom, #stress #buzz word #reframing #flowers #nature #ambition #achievements
Tired, So Tired

Super short post tonight because I’m exhausted from traveling all day, and several days’ of very little sleep. Great reframing opportunities on the plane(s): 

1. If there’s a guy sitting behind you who thinks that the wing has a problem with it mid-flight, informs the flight attendant to “tell the mechanics” to look at it” and then proceeds to get everyone with seven or so rows good and fucking scared about it, don’t ignore him. Pretend he’s out there on the wing, maybe like that episode in The Twilight Zone, and then have a good laugh about it later, when he’s caught a connection you’re thankfully not on. 

2. If there’s a crying, flailing baby sitting behind you on the second leg of the journey, who’s also kicking you in the kidneys approximately once every four minutes or so for three hours (for some reason without his mother’s notice), imagine him locked in a very small room with her, one that’s thankfully soundproof and lined with mirrors. 

Ahh, quiet. 

Oct 31, 20119 notes
#flying #airlines #travel #tired #exhaustion #mechnics #baby
New York, I Love You

It’s freakin’ snowing in New York, but maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. Normally, it wouldn’t start up until early December, and then just start out as flurries that melt before sticking on the ground. Today, I came out of a meeting, looked up, and there were the fattest, most beautiful flakes I’d ever seen. Magic, if you ask me.

Luckily, I had an umbrella, since it soon turned to wet slush that soaked through my clothes and boots. I stopped at a roasted nut vendor on 45th, since this smell is deeply associated with some of my most favorite New York memories, and he pushed four bags at me for four bucks — about half off. I asked if he was sure, not completely certain who I would be sharing this many nuts with, and he said he just wanted to go home. Everyone was inside; no one was buying nuts. I dug in my pocket and gave him a five.

Looking at it through the reframing lens, I probably didn’t make the guy’s day. It’s not really that simple. But I did get a great deal done at my pitch meetings, and was proud of myself for making the effort. Maybe I helped him go home a little faster, to be with his family, and at least I know he was warmer and drier. Hopefully, he was able to spend some time getting comfortable, putting his feet up and thinking about where his dreams would take him this winter. Maybe he’ll travel to Florida with his earnings, or help his mother have surgery, or save for his kid’s college education.

Such a big city to hold so many wishes. I miss my friends here, and hope to spend a lot more time here soon. I need the heart, the art, the theater and the energy.

Oct 29, 20117 notes
#new york #times square #snow #sleet #rain #magic #roasted nuts
On Returning Home

Someone a lot smarter than I am once said that you can never go home, and perhaps that’s true. You can’t go back to the home you remember because either it’s grown and changed, you’ve grown and changed, or it never existed in the first place, outside the realms of your mind.

I love the way this speaks to the Buddhist concept of impermanence — that shit won’t always be the same, be it your luxury condo in Boca, your health, your life or your solitude. Nothing lasts forever, my friend. That’s what made the Buddha a pretty smart dude for his time, and for pretty much forever. I’ve been thinking a lot about how the child of a privileged nobleman would feel about the nonsense going on in the name of Wall Street and the economy these days (the Buddha started out as a prince, for those who don’t know), but that’s another story, for another time.

I don’t get back to New York that much, but lived here for almost eight years in the late ’80s and early ’90s. A lot of stuff has changed, in keepinq with the theme of impermanence. Times Square looks like Tokyo, and everything is screamingly expensive. People look unhappy, and I wonder if I used to be one of them.

Don’t get me wrong. I love New York, as the bumper sticker goes. You can even buy Yankees Chapstick here, and dump it into the East River if you’re a Red Sox fan. But I don’t miss the person I was when I was here — confused, angry, overtired and overworked, carrying an attitude bigger than Montana on my shoulders. As I write this I feel happy to be the person I am now, the person I worked really hard to become. But I feel a little sad, too, for the girl I was. Maybe it’s time to lay her to rest, those parts of me that probably never served much anyway. They got me here, they helped me live, and now they need to go once and for all. So I’ll reframe this moment, and send them off like beautiful Japanese lanterns floating down a gentle river, released forever, never to come back in this lifetime. Thanks for bringing me here.

Oct 28, 201115 notes
#impermanence #Buddhism #Boca #Wall Street #greed #going home #yankees #red sox
Some Lessons On Traveling

1. Never sit next to a trio of smart ass guys speaking Spanish, whom your rudimentary high school language classes tell you that are capping on everyone, perhaps even you.

2. Bring more than a few almonds for a snack. Airport food sucks majorly.

3. Get more than three hours’ sleep the night before you leave. Doing the head-nodding, falling asleep thing on a plane is so not cute.

4. Try not to sit in the middle. Ever.

5. Watch people more often. If they notice, smile and see what happens.

6. Watch flight attendants even more. Creat entire storylines for them: where they’re going, where they’re from, what made them go into this line of work, and what they’d rather be doing when they’re up in the air.

7. When there are delays, know they’re for a good reason. Who wants to fly in terrible weather, anyway?

8. People will always be in a hurry to get off the plane. And then stand right in the way of everyone else hurrying to get off the plane while they mess with the handle of their suitcase, which they probably should have checked anyway.

9. Caffeine during travel days is wasted, unless they start putting treadmills on planes anytime soon.

10. Travel gives you so many ways to reframe your chosen reality, it’s not even funny. The next time you travel — anywhere, if doesn’t matter — see if you can’t view the world from someone else’s point of view. Perhaps taking the view of the shopkeeper, or the taxi driver, or even the baggage handler will give you a new lease on your own life, or at least a better sense of connection with the people who live around you, or not so very far away.

Oct 27, 201121 notes
#travel #airports #food #reframing #flying #airplanes #people watching #flight attendants #delays #weather #treadmills #caffeine #reality
Are You Kidding?

Trying to get the images of street violence in Oakland out of my mind today, with little success. As a practicing Buddhist for more than 15 years now, I see why people need to take to the streets to express their frustrations, and why police may feel threatened by their actions. But brutal shows of force have little place in practice, or in the world at large. Most of the time they just come off as exaggerated and fear based, not real solutions in any sense of the word — especially if you end up in the hospital, I suppose. 

Sometimes when I watch the news, or the Internet, where most people actually get their news these days, I often find myself saying, “Are you kidding? You really want me to believe that a few rocks (while wearing riot gear and carrying shields, mind you) justifies throwing people to the ground, firing beanbags at body parts, and forcefully dispersing peaceful protesters?”

You really expect me to believe that? 

Over time, activists have gotten smarter. And now, in the age of of the constantly churning news cycle and ubiquitous cell phone cameras, you can’t get away with stuff you used to do. So the reframe for me today involves seeing, hearing, and witnessing. It involves watching those shaky videos posted online, and feeling in some way connected to these people who are trying to express themselves, and really the majority of us as well. It’s about seeing how just watching, seeing, and validating reveals the truth. 

Little by little, frame by frame, this process shows what’s actually happening in the world. When each one of us is frustrated that nothing is being done, we can click a link and see that yes there is, right there, at this very moment. 

My heart and my thoughts are with you, wherever you are, if you want to slay ignorance and greed. Next step is to create a series of action steps to get there, yes? 

Oct 26, 201111 notes
#oakland #california #wall street protests #greed #violence #buddhism #news #activism
With a Little Bit of Luck

Been thinking about the stuff we leave behind today. As I sorted through my clothing and shoes, which I do twice a year, giving away several bags’ worth of stuff each time to local thrift stores, I began to get a little sad, thinking about wearing a certain top to an event, or how I’d been hoping something would happen if I wore a particular size. 

Melancholy soon turned to whimsy, though, as I imagined someone else wearing a pair of pants that had brought me so much happiness, or buying the dress I’d met a particular guy in, or wore the shoes I bought for someone’s wedding. I thought about how we’re all doing this, all the time, perhaps without even realizing it. We may not be giving clothes away, but maybe we’re throwing off an old habit, or a belief we’ve held for so long it actually feels like part of us. To lose it may be unthinkable, because who are we, now that we no longer carry it close to our heart? Ripe territory for reframing. 

Maybe with a little bit of luck, our belongings, feelings and experiences can be recycled in their way, making a complete circle before ending up back with us again. Maybe the shirt I give up today turns into a friend I make ten years from now, or a pair of shoes I cast off a job someone creates for another person in need down the line. Curious how the smallest things can seem so meaningful, so imbued with personal history, when you’re letting them go. 

Oct 26, 201156 notes
#sorting #thrift stores #luck #beliefs #thoughts #feelings #whimsy #letting go
Frustrated

Annoying day, filled with frustration. Book marketing has me frustrated, I don’t feel much like writing anything new (which is strange for me) and I’m marshaling my energy for my clients and a trip to New York later this week. Some days it just feels like you’re swimming through molasses to get any small thing done. 

Publishing has me annoyed. I love books, and hate to see the people who put them into the world literally killing the business of words every day. Book production has me annoyed, and wishing there were a faster, easier way. Dealing with disengaged people, and those who merely mark time, also has me irritated and raw. 

So here’s me, channelling the Knack: 

Maybe I need a break from prose writing. I’ve been moving more and more towards theater and television, anyway. Maybe that’s where I’m going. Who knows? I just know that the same old, same old just isn’t doing it for me anymore. 

So maybe the reframe is moving from “Frustrated” to “Good Girls Don’t.” After all, I’ve never been great at going along with what everyone selse is doing: 

God bless you, boys of the Knack. Who knew your songs would one day be used as a reframing exercise by a frustrated writer in Los Angeles, California? Probably not you. Truth be told, though. I’d much rather be the girl who tried things others didn’t than the one spending her time worrying about what others thought. 

Oct 25, 201116 notes
#the knack #frustrated #book marketing #writing #book publishing
The Precious

Slow and lazy day, during which I had a little chat with the divine. We talked about how I might take new goals on board over the next few months without burning myself out, and discussed how some people I know may not be on board for all of it, for various reasons. I wanted tea, but the divine wanted hot chocolate. It couldn’t be considered cold yet in L.A., but it’s working its way toward cool. 

In a few days, I’ll make my way to New York with my husband. He will do some research on a book he’s working on, a historical exploration, while I’ll attend Hay House’s Book-to-Screen Pitchfest. The irony of traveling from Los Angeles to New York to pitch film people certainly isn’t lost on me, but the story is applicable to these media, so what the heck? I figure I may as well give it a shot. 

Until then, the divine is giving me advice about how to handle myself, the trip (my throat is pretty sore today), and the changes coming my way as I deal with book, play and TV stuff happening in the same general timeframe next year, not to mention publicity stuff and a national book tour. Should be pretty interesting. 

So to narrow it down, the divine asked me what was precious to me. What I would follow to the ends of the earth, like Golem in Lord of the Rings. I said my husband and dog, of course, myself, and my health, as well as my ongoing work in writing and healing. But then I said something that sounded surprising to my ears, at least in that moment. 

I said I would follow it to the ends of the earth, that connection I love to feel on my skin and hear in my ars on a good day. I said I would follow the divine not in a blind or overly religious way, but in the sense of staying part of things while forging my path, and remaining close to those precious tendrils of strength and tenacity found in all living things. 

Oct 24, 201110 notes
#hay house #pitchfest #new york #los angeles #book #writing #searching for sassy #sassypsychic #book tour #lord of the rings
Under the Apple Tree

Finally got a chance to watch Five, which premiered on Lifetime a few weeks ago. It’s comprised of five short films about women, men and children dealing with breast cancer, each directed by a famous woman. I haven’t finished all of the films, so I can’t comment on the last two. But so far, Jennifer Aniston’s film “Mia,” featuring Patricia Clarkson, stands out immeasurably. 

I suppose you can’t really go wrong if you manage to cast Patricia Clarkson in anything. Ever since I first noticed her, back in 1998’s High Art, I’ve been amazed by the depth of her characterizations, the compassion she brings to her work, and the somewhat reckless streak she manages to imbue her characters with. It’s as if they’re in the room with you, and you can see them in their 360 degrees of humanity, instead of just the one or two degrees that typically come out on the page. 

For some reason, these films made me think of the Celtic way of viewing the apple tree, how they symbolized fertility and femininity, as well as beauty and abundance. The Druids saw eating an apple as a way to enter other worlds, and how they could transform the soul when pressed into hard cider. 

The Celts also saw apple trees as symbols of love, passion, art, creativity, and poetry. Feminine in their nature, apples stood in for the ripeness of pregnancy and birth and, for those looking a little deeper, may have had more than a little to do with the Adam and Eve story that took shape in the Bible not too long after the Celts fell. 

Even though the films in Five may be a little uneven in terms of writing and directing, they have a certain dignity and power when combined. They tell a single human story, or feminine energy in today’s world. Like the apple tree, this energy lives on in new and decidedly more hopeful ways, as we learn to heal together and move on into the unknown. 

Today my reframing work has been about seeing my own feminine energy as a strong tree, rooted into the earth, sending its strength into the core of the planet. I see my branches reaching up toward the sky, offering shade to people, and fruit for the hungry. I see myself transformed into an intensely alive thing. Not dead or dying, but living defiantly, anew. 

Oct 23, 201146 notes
#five #lifetime #jennifer aniston #mia #patricia clarkson #high art #breast cancer #ancient celts #druids #apples #demi moore
Down the Rabbit Hole

Whew! It’s been a day. Just found out that my publishing company may want to push the release date for my new book up by a few months, cutting the time I have to prepare and do marketing & publicity down to just a few weeks. Argh and double argh. 

Every time a book of mine is published, I learn a little more about how to do things easier and more effectively. Last time, in 2008, I learned that you need to give yourself a nice long time period before the book comes out, in order to get copies to potential reviewers (lead time is sometimes up to 6 months!) and leave yourself plenty of time to get the word out to bloggers, TV, radio, newspapers and magazines. Each has a different way of pitching, and a different set of expectations. 

So when your timeline shrinks, you either take the leap and hope for the best, or find someone who can help. So I’ve gone down the rabbit hole to a certain extent today, and begun to interview publicists and other marketing experts. I’m pretty self-sufficient and often try to do things on my own. So the reframe for today is to learn how to accept help, work with other people to help my agenda along, and well, just trust that everything is going to work out fine. 

This is hard for someone who’s used to doing things on her own, who enjoys learning how to do new things. But the other way is better for the project, so I gotta swallow my predispositions, smile and … get on with it. 

Oct 21, 201123 notes
#book #searching for sassy #sassy psychic #memoir #marketing #book marketing #publicity
Rock It Out, Little Lady

Like most people, I get a lot of forwarded stuff each day in my email inbox. I get lame jokes, scary stuff, calls to sign political petitions, and videos. Lot and lots of videos. Very few of these contain things that are meaningful to me. I don’t want to stop the flow of information — who knows, there could be something interesting in there, right?

I have been thinking a lot about women’s rights these days, as we face another upcoming election. I have been thinking, as I watch my stepdaughter get married at 24, that some women (don’t know if this is her, but still) feel that the only option, or the best option for them, is marriage over anything else. Not partnership alongside whatever else you’re doing with your life. And then someone sent me this video, of a 7-year old girl playing “Sweet Child of Mine” on the guitar. Go, Zoe, go! 

For some reason, this video makes me cry. Seriously. I see the stoic nature of her face, concentrating on playing the notes. I see a little prodigy who has clearly found her calling in this instrument. And I see a little girl who now has more than one choice about how to have her voice heard. That shatters me, in a good way, I suppose. 

That would normally be enough for one day, right? To have this moment of catharsis realizing that somewhere, out of the eye of the media, little girls are making other choices than self-harm and partnership for lack of better options, not intentional choice. Then someone else sent me this video, by playwright Eve Ensler: 

Taken together, they are a powerful force. On one hand, you have a women who has devoted her life to eradicating violence against women. On the other, you have a young girl who has chosen perhaps the loudest and most internationally understood instrument of rebellion. How can you not love that in that place, a man or a woman has taught this girl, a woman in the making, how to speak up for herself?

To reframe this moment for myself going forward, I vow to keep speaking my truth. I use this blog every day to talk about things that are important to me, and to reframe the moments of my life to keep seeing what is beautiful about it, even on days when life doesn’t feel so beautiful. I also write a blog at SassyPsychic.com, and write books, e-books and other written material. But somehow, I need to interweave my activism with my written work. I ask the universe to send a way, or more than one way, to do this. Sooner rather than later, to make my meaning on earth a little clearer. 

Oct 20, 201122 notes
#rock #guitar #zoe #guitar #feminism #violence against women #eve ensler #playwright #girls #sassy psychic #books #e-books
Hear This: We Have Everything

Short post tonight because I’m tired and have to sleep it off. Not some sort of alcohol binge, but the heaviness of complainers. Some days it seems like everyone I talk to , or observe on Facebook, or even my clients are complaining about their lives not being the way they want them to be. But there’s a big difference between discovering that you’re not satisfied with some part of your life and then finding a way to change it, and just complaining for the sake of complaining. As if the world owes you a living, or is somehow responsible for your feelings about your job, your relationships, and your ultimate personal satisfaction. 

Bottom line? The universe wants to help. It just needs more than complaining. How about a little encouragement, or focused intention? How about some gratitude mixed in with your constant requests for Things to Be Different? 

How would you feel if people only came around when they wanted something from you? You’d probably get pretty pissed. But you don’t hear the universe complaining, do you? 

Oct 20, 20118 notes
#sleep it off #alcohol #facebook #complaining #gratitude #encouragement
Miss Representation

I’ve been thinking a lot about women and how their roles have changed ever since I went to a wedding last weekend. For me, getting married was the last thing on my mind when I was a teenager, or in my twenties. Of course, that meant that five different guys asked me on seven different occasions to get  engaged, and were eventually sent packing. That scared my husband so much that he was a little afraid to propose to me. 

I just didn’t see the point in getting married to the first person, or the second, I got along with in life. There was too much out there to do and discover. I was always a little scared of being too tied down that I couldn’t get away somehow, and have my freedom explore the world. 

This generation seems extremely into the idea of boyfriends and girlfriends, and being in partnership. They all seem to want to be married, the sooner the better, and think they’re old maids if they’re not hitched up and breeding by 30. I personally know more 20-something married couples than 40-somethings, and that’s saying something. 

Then I heard about a movie called Miss Representation, which shows how media images of women shape not just their treatment, but the entire culture as a whole. How we depict women in advertisements, movies and television shows signals to young boys how they’re supposed to define their own self-worth, as people who mistreat over half of the species. And in this age of throwback sexism on shows like Mad Men and Pan Am, we can’t afford to have this be the only thing young women see as an option. 

So check the movie out, if it’s showing in your area. To reframe this in my own life, I’ve pledged to offer intuition development workshops for young women not so they can become psychics, but so they learn to trust their own inner knowing, and can use it to advance themselves, make smarter choices, and find the right sort of friends and mates. 

Choosing to be married at twenty-something should be just that — a choice. It’s not more necessary to anyone’s worth than having a pretty face or a good body. They’re helpful, sure. But so is being a good negotiator, or an inventor of some kind.

Just sayin’ is all. 

Oct 19, 20111 note
#sexism #miss representation #media images #young women #mad men #pan am #weddings #intuition development
The Scene That Kills

Every writer lives for that moment when they’re typing away, kind of feeling their way into the darkness, and then BAM! Out of nowhere comes an idea that doesn’t even seem like it came from inside them. It types itself out onto the screen and all of a sudden they’re seeing it from outside, as if they’re an audience member sitting in that theater or in front of that television — gasping and laughing, or moved inexorably to tears. 

It comes along every once in a while, and most of the time, I can’t even congratulate myself when it does. That’s because I rarely feel like I write the things I write. Usually, I’m typing so fast that it doesn’t seem like these images and words could come from inside my mind. They can’t be found in my own experiences, or among the people I know. They’re sheer imagination. The stuff of dreams. 

Today, I typed my way toward the last few pages of a play I’ve been working on for the past few months, give or take. I get to it when I can get to it, which is not as often as I would like. And I haven’t known exactly what to do with the ending, in order to strike a balance between audience satisfaction and the avoidance of sentimentality. I had no idea what I was going to write today, no direction. So I felt my way in the dark, as I usually do with plays. More than any other art form for me, this one always feels like an unguided expedition. And then a scene, a scene that kills, typed its way onto the page. All of a sudden I was crying, seeing it played out on stage in my mind. 

As a writer, I live for moments like this. We’ll see, of course, how it plays out once it has a theater and a director and a cast. That’s always a cross your fingers and pray moment for any playwright. But the reframe, if there is one for today, is to see my words as anvils and hammers, as angels and clouds. As “not mine” as could possibly be, because they will always belong to everyone. Hopefully, they’ll like what I’ve done with them. 

Oct 17, 201119 notes
#writing #plays #playwrighting #theater #television #audience
On the Road Again

Just back from an almost all-day drive back from San Francisco. The trip was a quick one, which felt a lot longer, and made my heart want to linger behind in this amazing city. But since time is at a premium in my life these days, the drive down the 5 would have to suffice. 

Most people say that there are only three cities in California — San Diego to the south, Los Angeles a little further north, and then San Francisco in the north. But to think of the state in that way means you miss out on a lot of what California is — to me, at least. First of all, it’s huge. It takes nearly 6 hours to drive just the bit from Los Angeles to San Francisco, depending on traffic. You just keep going and going, wondering when you’re going to get there. 

Secondly, it’s like it’s own country in a way, with agricultural regions representing the conservative viewpoints, and the coastal, college and city areas standing in for the progressive, for the most part. 

Third, it smells. Sometimes near the feed lots and cattle processing ranches, it stinks to high heaven. Other places reek of fertilizer and other chemicals. Not to mention the exhaust streaming from all the cars. 

Fourth, it’s fucking inspiring. The sky is huge, like Texas, but the light is different. Because of the marine layer and the dust in the air, it’s light and diffused, like a watercolor of a glorious sunset, but all the time. No wonder photographers have been trying to capture it for centuries now. 

Fifth, I can’t imagine living anywhere else. Though I grew up on the East Coast and love Chicago, even going so far as to investigate living there, I love this damn state. We’re screwed up and we’re broke, and most people I know who live here couldn’t care less. They live here for the film business, the weather, the laid back atmosphere and the beaches. They live here for the Mexican food (don’t get me started on that in other places) and the sense that life can be easy. They live here because on most days, we don’t need reframing to have a good time. The one we have looks pretty good already. 

Oct 17, 20113 notes
#california #los angeles #san francisco #san diego #5 freeway #reframing #mexican food #texas
Sometimes You Feel Like a Nut

Are you ever in one of those crowds that so mixed, you have to be a freakin’ wizard in order to have all these different conversations? When some people are heavily into X Factor (which I don’t watch) or can only address soccer scores, while still others have references you’re too young to remember, or obsessions you don’t understand (Dirty Dancing, anyone)? Sometimes, you really do feel like a nut. Or maybe that’s just me. 

That was a good part of my reality today. Weddings are seldom my first choice of things to attend. They’re seldom about love, cost a great deal of money and are usually so fraught with hidden (or not so hidden) tension as to cause at least one person to burst into tears, another to be found drinking by him or herself in the bushes, and still others to embark on fleeting and ill-advised trysts with people from across the aisle. Kind of like politics, but without the direct effect on most of our lives. 

But since I’m getting pretty darn good at this reframing stuff, I had the chance to see weddings in brand new way today. Maybe they’re not so much about the bride and groom (or the bride and bride, or groom and groom - whatever makes you happy) as they are about their families and communities coming together to express their support. Weddings, I suppose, say good on ya and hope it works out, and we really want you to succeed, somehow. They say we’ll put on a dress or an uncomfortable suit and trek it down to wherever’s meaningful to you in order to show that we care, we really care. And that’s pretty damn cool, no matter how you slice it. 

Oct 16, 2011
#weddings #toasts #conversation #guests #love #money #tension #tears #bride #groom
In Praise of Defensiveness

Not the stupid kind, mind you, but the kind where you stand up, or stand for something, or come to the defense of someone or something you feel could use a bit of help in that department. For me, it’s a lot of things. But if you fuck with my husband, oh hell no, you’re fucking with the wrong person. 

I’ve been in exactly one fight in my life, which was not of my own choosing. I don’t go out of my way to seek out conflict, just as I don’t seek to tell others how to live their lives. So when I’m around people who have a lot of rules and expectations, then expect you to live up to them, let’s just say I don’t do all that well in that kind of environment. 

This weekend is a bit of a challenge for a lot of reasons. And I’m doing pretty well, all things considered not the least of which is about 3 hours of sleep and no caffeine — it makes my hands shake). Reframing has just begun, in order to bring some greater beauty and meaning into a bunch of people whose sole purpose in life seems to be judging and categorizing others. So I see them as the personal organizers of life, the little plastic geegaws and filing tabs that help us stay on task, and able to move forward. I see them as stop signs and hand signals and semaphore flags. What they lack in soul they make up form in usefulness, which is a lot nicer of a way to see a fellow human being, after all. 

So in honor of e. e. cummings’ birthday, upon whose poem this entire blog is based after all, I give you one of my favorite quotes of his, very suitable under the circumstances: 

“Humanity I love you because when you’re hard up you pawn your intelligence to buy a drink.”

Oct 14, 201137 notes
#e. e cummings #defensiveness #stand up #rules #boundaries #reframing #judging
Engagement Not Optional

Getting ready to leave town for a few days to go to my stepdaughter’s wedding in Oakland and thinking about how even the things we’d rather not take part in somehow demand our presence, our engagement. For me, weddings aren’t a big deal. I wasn’t one of those girls who drew her wedding dress all over her biology notebook and swooned over the football captain. OK, once, but he had a great big nose and wasn’t classically handsome. His parents owned a diner. Definitely not Andrew McCarthy territory. 

But even thought I’m married, my wedding was small and intimate, with only a few friends on a beach in Malibu. I can’t deal with the ritual, the white dresses, the spending about as much as a year of college education on one day of mostly stressful “fun.” But other people want them, so you go, right? You try to be polite, not drink too much, and respect that the other person has their needs. You engage, because it’s not really optional. 

These duty-bound moments are becoming fewer and more far between in my life. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve stopped feeling that I had to do certain things at certain times, and have learned to listen to my heart more times than not. I am myself. But on the times other people ask me to do things you wouldn’t catch me doing out of choice, I try to test my limits. I put on a nice dress and find a pair of shoes that don’t suck in my closet. I put on a smile and some makeup and find conversation topics that stay toward the non-inflammatory and polite. 

No doubt I’ll reframe this time as time that will make someone else happy. Surely, I can find it in my heart to do that for someone I care about, and want to be happy in this new part of her life. If not, I should check my heart at the door and think seriously about getting a new one. 

Oct 14, 201127 notes
#football captain #marriage #andrew mccarthy #engagement #intention #manners
Drama the Ralph Steadman Way

Maybe it’s because I’ve been seeing lots of commercials for Johnny Depp in The Rum Diaries, or the memory of reading Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas in high school study hall, wrapped inside my social studies textbook. But lately I can’t stop thinking about how revolution in the sixties was inexorably tied to art. Their movements had not only counter-culture music, but art like Peter Max and nameless designers of album cover after album cover. 

The 70s are associated with R. Crumb’s Keep on Truckin’ Guy, bubbly rainbows and t-shirts with horses on them. The 80s had neon, Frankie Says Relax shirts, and punk rock. The 90s I suppose had flannel, trucker hats and um, I can’t think of anything else. 

But where’s our contemporary Ralph Steadman? That visionary person who not only captures the iconography of the time, but its spirit? Sure, there’s been Shepard Fairey. And I don’t mean to diss, but I get a little sick of that stuff over and over and over. I went to Steadman’s web site today to have a look at his work again, and it’s still great. He’s got some of the original gonzo stuff for sale (yay Paypal) and even some relatively staid portraits of dogs. Get your cool friends some cool art for the holidays, folks. 

So to reframe the lack of artistic inspiration for our time, I began my sitting practice sending Ralph Steadman and Hunter Thompson light and healing. I imagined them lighting a cigarette and blowing smoke in my face. I coughed and laughed, looking for that chimp in the Vegas bar. But I was too late. They’d taken over the liquor supplies, impregnated the waitresses, and sold the chimp to the highest bidder. 

I got sad for the loss of good drama, the fun and not the neurotic kind. 

Oct 13, 2011
#ralph steadman #shepard fairey #r. crumb #keep on truckin #peter max #huter s. thompson #fear and loathing #rum diaries #johnny depp
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