thoughts

270: Warning: Lizard Tongue

| Aspergers Girls

Working Titles:

I Adore Myself so Much I Could Hug and Kiss ME All Over

Aspie: Why I am So Awesome?

Take a Chance on Me…PLEASE!!!

~~~~~

Why I Adore ME:

1)      My super-sized brain that enables me to be in anytime and anyplace with the blink of my pretty eye.

2)      The capacity I have to entertain myself in thought over the most seemingly simplistic ideas, such as how well do I actually know the back of my hand, and am I the only one that isn’t familiar with the back of their hand, and am I more familiar with the lens of my eyeball from which I see, even though I can’t see my eyeball when I’m looking out in the world, and is my eyeball invisible? How can I see straight through my eyeball without seeing any of it at all?

3)      My intense humor that makes my internal organs giggle, while producing this devious, I-am-so-radical-and-fantastic grin across my blushing face.

4)      My ability to laugh at myself, over and over and over again, and my ability to point out my bazar weirdness so my friend, or neighbor, or complete stranger can laugh about me, too. Even though I know secretly they are laughing at themselves, because I am a reflection of them. And if I point that out, I like to watch their faces turn sheet white.

5)      My huge empathy for everyone and everything. My urge to get out of my van and find out why the man crossing the road is homeless and to fix him all up, like in the movies. And to turn him into a freakishly charming prince, and ride off in his shopping cart into the distant sunset, all in a matter of moments, inside my brain, while stopped at the downtown stoplight.

6)      My urge to save the world with my ever-building (secret hidden) super powers.

7)      My butt. It’s just plain cute.

8)      My need to talk to safe-looking strangers, and to compliment them, so I can see them smile and their eyes light up. The expressions I magically produce on others’ faces when my compliment is unexpected and downright odd. “Oh your house is so big and lavish and fantastic. Is this your dream house? Is this your dream come true? I wish I had a house like this. It’s so perfect. Did it cost a lot of money?” pause…  “Oh, did I forget to introduce myself.”

9)      My ability to have simultaneous sensations. While this isn’t the best: sticky, bitter taste in mouth, jagged bottom tooth puncturing tongue, hard chair penetrating butt, shoulders stinging from typing, throat a bit scratchy, ears hurting from hum of fridge, airplane flying overhead, clock ticking….This is fantastic: moss the brightest magical green on trees, leaves dancing and spinning in front of me as they float off the branches, spider web glistening and singing in beauty, dog smiling at me, feet crunching the leaves, rain tickling tongue, birds singing in unison: a mystical choir, flapping of wings, insects leaping, squirrels pitter-pattering and playing hide-and-seek, wind lapping hair, warmth of wool hat, heaviness of thick winter coat, comfort of wool socks, swishing of pants, the sound of my own song, the sigh, the deep breath, the inhale of fresh crisp forest air, my pulse, my heart, my stomach, my skin, my being, my total beauty connected with the world.

10)   My ability to be remarkably insecure and overly confident at the exact same instant. Especially concerning my wit, charm, intelligence, and hair.

11)   My need for approval while constantly denying the need for approval, as you simply don’t exist outside of my limited perception and this created illusion.

12)   My bouncy spirit. No matter how low or how high, I’m always bouncing inside with the thought of getting to know you and be your friend, and learn everything about you, once you have read my blog and can recite my entire life story, so you can relate everything about you back to me, and thusly keep me the center of attention, so I know I exist somewhere inside the illusion you’ve created, because the thought of being an invisible empty space, as is clearly feasible when considering the vast universe between my spinning molecules, puts me into a state of hyper-awareness of the need to validate my existence.

13)   The fact that I’m uncommon and could never ever be common and ordinary, as hard as I tried, except for the fact that Nerd and Geek are coming into the mainstream fashion; so I might feasibly become the norm, my non-ordinariness becoming ordinary; that leads me to believe I need to create another part of me so I can maintain my uniqueness before society tries to suck it out of me. Perhaps I will sprout wings or let my antennae grow…or reveal my secret lizard tongue!

14)   My want to use made up words that make sense to me, and the knowledge that every word has been invented by someone, so that no words are real anyhows.

15)   My ability to see patterns everywhere, to solve complex riddles while I’m sleeping, and to wake in the middle of the night with an entire script in my head that I know without a doubt I have to share with the world or I will have not fulfilled my mission on earth!

16)   The ability to be entirely ME, and to see that ME is constantly in transition, that ME is subjective.

17)   The way coffee turns me into an unstoppable engine of achievement (inside my head.)

18)    The way I can open the number of my chocolate advent calendar in December, eat the chocolate, feel the smooth tingle go down my throat and chill of pleasure up my spine, sigh deeply, and feel like I’ve actually accomplished something for the day.

19)   How I can predict and time my bodily functions and hormones. “Bitch today; check in tomorrow.”

20)   Just the grandness of knowing there are other people who get me, and the giddiness I am able to feel in knowing that we are all so fricken insane that it brings saneness back into the ball field, all redressed in the ultimate coolness of different.

^^^ The song I danced to in the sauna over and over today, while I was staring at my goldfish, and thinking I’m on the other side of glass just like them; I wonder if they think I am a fish. Maybe I am a fish. Then I clucked like a chicken for absolutely no reason at all.

I have not had the chance to ask my husband if this is socially acceptable or not. So I will take a chance and make a disclaimer: My gigantic over-sized lizard tongue is not meant to be sexual in any way.

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269: Thursday’s Pee

| Aspergers Girls

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I always have to pee at the least desirable times. Like right now, as I sit here in this coffee shop, dressed rather cute with my new white jacket that was initially supposed to accompany the dress I never wore—the panty-free dress that made its proud debut in the blogging world.

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I’m all dolled up. And why? Why is my hair curled, my lashes too, and my lips a sweet watermelon-color?

Because it’s Thursday, of course.

As I sit here typing, I have a full panoramic view of the room. I can see the fireplace, and unfortunately the man who set up camp right in front of my leather couch, across the coffee table. I’ve been battling his come-hither stares and energy since his prompt arrival, and wondering what’s a girl to do?

I have to pee because I had a huge cup of coffee mixed with organic hot chocolate mix. Can you say double-yum? I had that to-die-for beverage, earlier, when at home.

Arriving at the coffee house, with all my perky-self, I said to the lady behind the counter, a sweet young thing: “I’d like a decaffeinated soy Chai Latte, please!” I flashed a big grin. I liked the sound of my order.

And plus, my jacket said it all: I am sexy, I am cute, and I am fabulous. See the bow in the back of my coat?

My face said the rest: See my big grin. I am so extremely comfortable here. Let me lift my brows to decrease my wrinkles, and set my head so delicately to the right. Am I approachable, yet? Am I fitting in, blending in with the other humans?

The tall bearded man, near the young lady behind the counter, strikingly thin, likely a vegan extremist, eyed me fine and good. He spoke to me without words for a millisecond. Processing. Then he breathed out his thoughts, quick and easy like. With a smirkish clear of his throat, he said: “We don’t have decaf Chai.” He then rolled his eyes and scooted his frailness out of my line of vision. Though he kept watching me with his I-know-more-about-beverages-than-you stare down.

Deflated, I panicked and slid my thoughts to the right, examined, and tried to grasp my next step. Catching an idea, I said, as smoothly as possible, despite the nervous giggle: “Oh, yes, of course Chai is caffeinated.”

Then I felt doubly-incorrect, remembering there is decaf Chai tea in the stores, and for a moment I was in the grocery market, away from the frightful man.

I was quite beside myself with embarrassment, realizing that I’d once again over reacted to the slight poopiness of a stranger.

What to do?

After the boob of a man (Rather Zen of me, don’t you think?) slapped down the tea menu in front of me, I had the keen impression he was fed up with my query-filled eyes.  Sucking in my breath, I said, “Ginger tea,” delicately and tried to fluff up my sweetness.

Can’t you see that I’m nice?

With tea in hand, I retreated with imaginary tail between legs to my wall, and then struggled to figure out proper etiquette for placing down my items. Where to put my scarf, keep jacket on (looks cute, keeps me warm, hides my boobs) or take jacket off (keeps jacket clean, might be more comfy), Put laptop on lap, put laptop on table? Cross legs?

And so on.

Endless it is.

Problem is right when I got settled that’s when the stranger arrived. With some fifty other feasible places to sit, he chose to sit directly in front of me, in a position where his line of vision crashes and smacks mine. I can’t even hide behind my laptop.

The stare down begins.

So far, in the last hour, I’ve noted his outdated sneakers (I mean 1980’s black checkered Vans) and his need to pull his hat over his head and nap. I’ve taken random glances when he wasn’t looking, but really wished I had a note on the back of my laptop that read:

This is an experiment—I have Aspergers. Don’t expect me to look you in the eyes or respond to your existence, unless you are a woman my age or very old and safe looking. Or a child. Or a dog. Or even a bird. But if you are a man, beware. You’re invisible. Kind of…..

I really have to pee, now.

I have a laptop, and thusly, in order to vacate my spot, I will have the task of stuffing the laptop in my computer case. That in and of itself, is difficult. I am not very coordinated. Stuffing things inside other things is not my forte. In fact, trying to fit anything inside anything is hard. (I’m embarrassed now, as this someone how once again seems sexual. Like I said, I’m twelve inside.)

Think folding chairs into folding chair’s bag….panic attack. I don’t know which side goes in first. And then I get all bothered with everything that sticks and snags and acts stubborn. I often carry my portable lawn chair in one hand and the designated bag for said chair in the other hand. It’s just how my life is.

I have to figure out if I am going to ask the very, very kind looking woman at the table diagonal to me if she would watch my laptop. However she is deep in conversation, and though her friendly eyes beckon me, I cannot help but visualize her running away with my laptop, all the while smiling in her delight, and screaming: “Ha, ha!  You are over-trusting!”

I am now starting to run through in my brain the very feasible scenario of what will happen if I do in fact piddle in my pants.

I really want to keep my place, my cozy spot on the couch; so I am setting my book on the coffee table alongside my scarf, and letting the thoughts of new book and pretty purple ruffled scarf being stolen saturate and then spill out of my brain. I take in a deep breath, wondering if the bow in the back of my coat is in actuality cute or just plain silly for my age.

Deep sigh, stepping forward, while balancing laptop. Glancing back to reassure myself that my spot is still marked and claimed. Thoughts of a dog peeing on a bush to claim his territory enter briefly. Wondering if anyone is in the bathroom and hoping I can reach the sanctuary of the porcelain pot in time.

Passing people.

Standing upright, trying to look confident. Knowing when I stand too upright that my body is bendy-like and I look like a stretchy doll. Smiling, knowing I don’t feel natural when I smile and that likely my eyes are super wide, eyebrows raised, and I look freakishly over-caffeinated.

“Squirrel. Squirrel!” The dog barked in full elation: That sums up my expression, surely.

And so the first threshold is reached:

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Back stepping. Where is the dishes window? WHAT is a dishes window. Holding legs closer together. Calculating if I feasibly have enough time left.

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Which one do I take. “Excuse me Ms. Is this the right key?” Holding any random key up. Wondering how many bathroom doors there will be.

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Go through door to find long hallways and more doors and more signs!!!

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Indeed. More directions. Lovely.

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Staring this image down. What if someone is already inside? I hear water running. Do I wait?

How do I scan this fricken plastic card?

A lovely young man arrives, and smiles. “Do you need help? Are you having trouble figuring out what to do?”

“Ummmm,” I say meekly with goofy teenage-grin. “What if someone is inside? Do I enter?”

He is smiling, I think, but I can’t tell, because I am staring at my boots. He offers: “You can just….”

And POOF, the door magically opens as the other female patron exits, and I slip inside, red-faced and flustered and scolding my cute little kidneys.

Mission accomplished.

Quick photo snap of a relieved woman, looking, (not surprisingly), drunk and haggard.

As I’m summing up the last details of my excursion in typed print, the friendly looking gentlemen to my left (lots of men in this coffee shop) he pauses, and glances my way, and asks, “Would you mind keeping an eye on my laptop for a minute?”

Overly zealously, I accept.

I must look trustworthy, I think. Or remind him of his mother.

The irony of the handsome lad’s question settles.

I spend the next five nervous minutes wondering what I would actually do if someone snatched up his laptop. Would I chase them? Would I scream?

I panic.

So much for designating Thursdays as my public outing days…..

266: Husky Men, Butterflies, and Sunshine

| Aspergers Girls

Some early mornings I sit in my van in the driveway and weep deeply. Today was one of those mornings. I listened to a song over and over and let the tears fall.

I’m learning to let my emotions come. And I’m learning to take care of myself. Really take care of me. Because I am precious and lovely.

I took a Dead Sea Salt bath this morning. And I let myself be. This rebalanced me.

I experience extreme emotions, daily. Sometimes they are mine; sometimes I find out that I am experiencing something akin to what a close friend or relative is experiencing.

I’m beginning to understand, to distinguish, the difference between my own emotions and others’. I’m beginning to understand how deeply affected I am by others’ core energy and thoughts—what is their essence, their fears, their joys, their belief and experience….and then beyond that to what is their spirit, the beautiful divine.

My “feelings” take me on great adventures. Often, daily, I spend hours upon hours, as if floating on air. I feel connected to the world, and a profound inner peace. I know without doubt I am surrounded by a fleet of angels, protected, watched and bathed in unyielding love.

There has been a great shift in me the last few weeks; where in I used to be carried away with my extreme emotions, now I am a bystander. I have the ability and capacity to step outside of the experience and become the silent observer offering my inner transitioning self my unconditional support. This other me, this “higher” me, she is constantly content, at peace, and in love with herself, others and life. She isn’t weeping or flying on the air. She just is.

I’ve been “practicing” visualizing what I want in my life. It’s been fun, in that giddy-little-girl way. I keep hearing behind me somewhere, or perhaps from deep within me, to be careful what you wish for, as the universe usually unfolds to give me what my deepest desires are.

I’ve had to reel in some of my own thoughts and needs, and continually pray for the higher good of my self and others, as I have a few fanciful ideas of my own that are only for my pure pleasure.

The other day, actually last week, I wanted to see how this visualizing worked. I wanted something fun and easy. I wanted something light-hearted—something my girlfriends would giggle at.

And so I asked, jokingly, for my angels to make husky (handsome) men in flannel shirts appear all day long. For then I could imagine laughing with my friends at the sudden rugged appearance of flannel-wearing hunks. I carried my friends with me throughout the day. And wouldn’t you know it, at every turn, in the stores shopping, on the streets wheeling out garbage, in cars and trucks and busses, were men in flannels. I wondered what would have happened if I had added the word naked to my list.

The next day I asked for a butterfly, that’s all I wanted. I wanted confirmation from my angels that they hear my prayers. And so, in the dark of winter, I visualized seeing a butterfly in flight. A real butterfly. I was specific. An image wouldn’t do.

I felt inside they would produce this for me. I felt in a few days time I would see a butterfly. And I would know.

Yesterday, we took a trip to a museum. I had no idea or forethought about the exhibits presented there. Turns out there was a huge butterfly exhibit. One where you walk inside, through the humid air and greenery and flowers in bloom, and get to dance within the sweeping butterflies. So many in flight, so many colors, so beautiful. And oh so confirming. I’d like to go back and just sit in the butterfly world for hours upon hours and do nothing but watch them be.

What shall I visualize now?

I visualize your smile, your inner peace, your love, your beauty. And I so wish for you to see how gorgeously lovely you are in every feasible way, in all ways imaginable, the beauty in your richest dearest dreams, and I wish more for you to be lathered in the love of the universe, to be dipped and re-dipped in the goodness that is both you and me. To be overwhelmed with a sense of peace and a knowing you are exactly where you need to be. Bless you and the butterflies. May we all honor our season, whether in cocoon, or nearly set to flight, may we see how divinely brilliant we shine.

May you feel the sunshine on your shoulders, Dearest You!

Even in the smallest events there’s no such thing as coincidence. – Haruki Murakami

264: Esteem and Other Thoughts

| Aspergers Girls

Here is something I wrote in 2011.

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The Difference between being humble and having low self-esteem

 I asked a question this morning and was given the answer so very fast and in so much detail, I hurried downstairs to my computer to collect the thoughts I was processing. (A little bit to my dismay, as I was retired on the couch.)

All of what is written is in direct response to my inquiry: What is the difference between being humble and having low self-esteem? I found the answer quite surprising and interesting. Though the logic is somewhat complex and not as easy to follow (for me at least) as some of my prior blog entries, I find this intriguing and very mindful of the well-being of others.

In my vocational practice, I now have new eyes, in terms of seeing the label of low self-esteem in a new light as the season of awareness. How wonderful to replace a “lowly” label with the beauty of the seasons.

As is typical, I typed the words as quickly as I heard them. Besides minor corrections in commas to display clarity, all is in original format.

What is the difference between being humble and having low self-esteem?

This is an interesting question you propose, and one we could go into with great detail. At this moment, it is sufficient to explain in summary that of which could be chiseled into great detail.

This self-esteem you speak of is an oddity for us.

To assume there is a self, is to say there is a being that is innately and proportionately equal to a one. Since, inevitably, and in all circumstances, we are never alone, separate, or divided, there follows that there is not this one that you so reverently perceive.

Wholly and dutifully, of course, there is a mass, a large unit that collectively (by human standards) could feasibly be divided and segregated into parts. This is natural of the human mind to search for separation, to make sense out of chaos, to bring order in the face of disunion. Even when elements are in union, such as the Universal Whole (collective unconscious, or by whatever term you seek to justify your perception), this human mind, in its limitation, dissects the union into parts in order to make sense. This is not error, and least not we judge, this is mere evidential fact.

Mediocre in nature, the mind is not set to work alone, much as a clock’s hands are not meant to work without all the concerning parts that lead up to the façade of the timeless face. You see, originally, you knew this; and innately, beyond your five human senses, you currently recognize and, to a degree, celebrate that you remember this. Although with the passing of (what you perceive as) time you have deliberately forgotten this fact. This is important, (and we use this word intentionally, this word important), for you to remember; that is that you have deliberately forgotten to remember. This is on purpose, as there are no accidents; in actuality no “purposes” either, but rather the simple being inside of being.

This is taking us off the track, but nonetheless we mention this being inside being. When you reflect on whom you are and question who is in the process of reflecting, you see there is more than one, again the mirror within the mirror, the reflection within the reflection; in a small fleck of a gem sense, this is what we mean by the being inside the being. In this way alone, you are never alone. Besides the Universal Whole, you are a being within a being.

And your being is surrounded by multitudes of other beings. This is beneficial to remember. Then in looking back at the initial question of self-esteem, we see, in our perception (which is more of a sensing than perception) that there exists not this single self. Thusly, as we follow this path logically, we can say if there does not exist this self, there does not exist this esteem of something (self) that does not truly exist.

Still, we understand your question in great magnitude, and the significance of the question, as you and many like you battle (appropriate word we think) with your inner perceived self-esteem.

There is a mass confusion in the term self-esteem, a confusion that is emerging into something anew and akin to awareness. Here we drift to the right of the path and look at the word awareness.

For as we “see” it, the human frailty that resides in the image of self-esteem is properly and justly replaceable, and easily rendered rectified with the more pleasing and palatable term of self-awareness. This, replacing of the term self-esteem to that of the term self-awareness, automatically diminishes, if not washes out, the need for scales and hierarchies, that of which we have mentioned before do not “exist” or better yet “pertain” to our current existence.

In following, we have this emerging and rebirthing of self-awareness that shall lead us into greatness. This greatness is yet to be identified or discussed, but safe to say this greatness will outshine the previous darkness.

In examining the substance of self-awarness, we can determine if a person has holes in any area of awareness. Again, we avoid words such as “missing” or “lacking;” we instead focus on the exactness of being complete but having holes, or a sense of emptiness, as in the hungry bird needing nourishment. We’ve mentioned this before, and need not review.

Take as an example the battered woman who previously may be assumed and labeled in human terms to lack of self-esteem. In this we simply replace the verbiage lack of self-esteem with the collective words effectiveness of awareness. In using the word effectiveness we can consider the comparisons as follows: Effectiveness of Awareness is equivalent to: Helpfulness of awareness; success of awareness; value of awareness; and similar likelihoods. We can also consider this as how ready one is for this said action of awareness.

The meaning of the words Effectiveness of Awareness can be gathered further by analysis. You might ask: What was the effectiveness of the meditation? This can be restated as: Was the meditation effective?

In this way, it follows, in examining the core meaning of effectiveness of awareness, we may consider these following alternatives in viewing the meaning: Was the awareness effective? Is the awareness actual or in practice; did the awareness cause a desired or intended result; did the awareness produce a favorable impression.

We phrase the words in this manner to avoid having a “one” or “person” in the statement; so that what is being evaluated and compared in circumstance is not the human but the degree of awareness. This removes the human from fault. For there is no fault. All is as is should be.

Therefore, we can now see if this example is followed to its fullest potential in understanding, that awareness is replacing the perception of self-esteem.

When we look at this battered woman again, one who has not left her perpetrator, who is still in the eyes of many a “victim,” we might often utter the words low self-esteem or low self-worth. In this instance, we ask you to consider her to be in a state of clouded awareness.

There are many avenues to consider, but for now let us say she may not be aware of choices, may not be aware of help, many not be aware of opportunity. Still some will say what choice? What help? And in this we reply above all that there is the help of Source, Higher Guidance, Prayer, and Retreat into Inner Self.

Others will point that if she had self-esteem, she would have awareness. This does not make sense. We are all born with awareness. The quality or aptitude of “one’s” awareness is not based on a degree of self-esteem, when there is in essence no “self.” We see in your eyes the confusion. Understand a person is not lacking esteem, only “lacking” (we are  utilizing this word “lacking” for comparison only) an awareness of their wholeness and purity. To assume esteem can be gathered like wild flowers in the field and then stored in the spirit is a falsehood. All the flowers you require you were born with. You are already beauty in all measure.

There is a temptation to say this battered woman lacks awareness. This is not true, for we all have awareness at some degree; she is never lacking awareness. Also, in the same line of thought, there will be a tendency to divide the awareness into degrees, so as to say a “lesser degree of awareness.”  This is also not a truth. There is simply a differing degree, just as seasons differ in temperature, in foliage, and activity. Her awareness is no lesser or greater than another. Because winter in many places is colder does not make winter less than summer? Nor does spring trump fall. Who is to judge this greater or lesser degree? Who is to be the barometer? Who is to be the trumpeter blowing out the only sound of truth? Judging is like falling into the trap of a spider, flying forward without thought into an invisible thread that winds and divides you. Better to not judge and accept.

Now as we have reviewed and seemingly replaced self-esteem with effectiveness of awareness, we can look at humility. Humility is a mighty word of much potential and power: power in terms of dynamic change. Humility is also much misunderstood. The humble are in many guises, none lesser or greater than the other, as is in accordance.

In humility we find a bowing down in body, mind, spirit, and emotion, not to lessen oneself, but to greet another at the same place in time and experience. The humble do not see themselves as elevated or lowly, but equal in experience. Yet, they have the capacity to greet another exactly where the other needs to be greeted. Thus, if you open your door to a stranger who is blinded, you will also feel blinded, not in eyesight but in character and stature; rightfully so, as a humble being, you shall see yourself in this person.

The humble recognize themselves in each reflection be it beast or babe. In this we see the humble carry the clarity of effectiveness of awareness. We struggle with finding more apt words, and recognize the difficulty in this verbiage. Still, this serves the essence of what we are trying to convey. To some degree this can be said as the degree in which awareness is awakened, though we discourage this because again this requires a perception of evaluation. Who is more awakened? Who is less awakened? Again the spider’s web.

Another way is to say the season of awareness, where each season is seen as welcomed and required. Therefore, following, one might be in a winter of awareness, the snow drifting and covering their full viewing, while another is in the summer of awareness filled with a knowing light of understanding. All seasons come and go. No season is lesser or greater. In this we can make some sense.

In closing, today, we ask you to remember that human terms and words are so limiting, that the concept alone of even considering the dubious process of comparing two words is boggling. Expressing truths in letter form, where letters are merged to make a concept, creates a different perception for each reader. Not only is the meaning lost directly in the translation from us to you, but again lost in your interpretation, and what you then form on paper. Again, there is meaning lost in the next set of eyes that read these scribed words. So we ask that you allow the vibration of the words to serve you equally.

 

262: Healing: Falsehoods and Rotten Apples

| Aspergers Girls

Sometimes I download information.

The following message came to me yesterday afternoon in the form of a vision during a James Bond action movie at the local theater. Not the best time, I say while laughing. Nonetheless, I took in as much as possible. I believe I do not do the visions justice as they come through a channel I cannot duplicate with words.

Whether this  message breathes from a corner of my mind, the collective unconscious, my angels, or other, I make no claim; I only share what I see. I found this fascinating myself, and the process has freed up much stagnant energy in me.

Interestingly enough, I have processed through many relationships and “gunk” these past couple weeks at high intensity, and this processing has freed up much space inside of me.

The more I process, the more rapidly information collects within me, and the more I process out. This current post led to a deep philosophical discussion between my husband and myself, which inevitably led to more healing and recognition.

I currently like how things are rolling; though painfully gut-wrenching in experience at moments, the joy I feel is equal in measure. Thank you for being part of this journey. I count you as a true blessing.

In addition, I would like to share, that after writing post 261, I was able to release a lot of frustration and lost hope, and see and hold the individual mentioned in the post with more love and forgiveness. So something is working; I’d rather not dwell on the source of my continuing emotional and physical healing, but rather embrace the occurrence and give thanks.

I’d thought about deleting post 261, as my nature is not to spew harmful intention or words of any sort, and I know the vibration of the words are not of my typical writing. Yet, I chose to keep the post, as I am part of the human condition that endures times of deep suffering and doubt, and don’t want to present myself without flaws and confusion at time. Again, I chuckle, as this whole blog seems to be one big blemish exposed to the world. In peace ~ Sam

Falsehoods and Truth

Some say I am crazy, a magical thinker, a dreamer, a pretender, someone to avoid and beware.

This is a falsehood.

Some say I am an attention-seeker, self-centered, someone with too much inside my own head, someone to correct and humble.

This is a falsehood.

Some say I am fooling myself, I have created this calling, I am trying too hard, someone who lacked love in youth trying to compensate through sacrifice.

This is a falsehood.

Some say I should paint these pages with images and quotes of their prophet, savior, or deity, that I am someone misguided, misinformed, not awaken.

This is a falsehood.

Some say I am ugly, big-nosed, big-eared, and old, someone to be fixed, repaired, or enhanced.

This is a falsehood.

Some say I am an example, living truth of light and goodness, someone to be adored, someone to aspire to be.

This is a falsehood.

Some say I am loving and sweet and kind, and adorable, someone to cherish, and hold, and uplift

This is a falsehood.

Some say I am wise, beyond my years, selfless, giving, someone who can prophesize and help others.

This is a falsehood.

For when I accept one truth, I must too accept the rest.

I cannot pick what I choose from the collection of illusions and discard the rest. The rest remain.

When I accept others’ perceptions of me that I deem beneficial, then I must also accept others’ perceptions of me that I deem non-beneficial.

I do not have the power within me to decipher others’ views and decide which are real and which are false.

I do not have the pride in me to take what I value as uplifting, and ignore the rest.

In truth, every word whispered is alive, and in so being a truth of its own form.

In truth, every thought born is alive, and in so being a truth of its own form.

I have not the capacity, nor want, to siphon through a multitude of endless words and thoughts focused upon me to decide which is real and which is fantasy—which is accurate and which is false as applies to my worth and identity.

All are false and all are true.

All are a falsehood, and in being so all are a truth.

They speak of the illusion I am.

They speak of the mystery that cloaks my true self.

That beneath these layers of illusion of word and thought, at my core is where I breathe.

I can only be sensed in silence, at another’s very soul.

And there, I rest, love upon love, the essence of another.

And so, today, as every day forward, I recognize the falsehoods as truth unfolded as illusion.

I recognize every thought of judgment I too hold, every evaluation my mind makes from habit and survival, is mere illusion.

That as I am love: As are you.

And I release the demands I have placed upon your soul to form you into something other than love.

I release the need to lessen you, to build me.

I release the need to build you to make my reflection brighter.

I release, and rerelease, over and over, with the still voice of love whispering: Illusion.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The Apple Tree

There grows an apple tree, in the valley, upon a hill, and there the people gather, one by one; they collect the apples green and ripe, still hanging from the tree, or nearly fallen; if still good, even a semblance of good, they gather

In other ways and times and places the apples appear golden, red, or mixed between; still they are gathered in the same manner, as people set about to gather what is deemed salvageable and decent.

Yet, on the ground remains the rejected, the left, the abandoned, stepped on and forgotten. Some overlooked, some lifted and dropped, some bitten into and spit out with distaste.

And too, up above, on the branches once full, remain the other fruit, the ones marked by time, or insect, or bite of animal friend. Those as well remain, slipped through fingers and not taken from where they live.

The people, they take the apples, and they create, they divulge, they slice and cook, they dice and dunk, they mix and drink. The apples chosen are greeted mostly with delight. Fed upon. Eaten to the very core. Tossed out when no longer needed. Or perhaps set in bin or yard to decompose into ground. Still they are used. They are gathered. They are wanted.

People do the same with words. People stand outside the tree of words and watch with wonder. They have an ache and need to feed upon the words. To digest the words. To take the words. They stand outside the tree and pick what they want to keep, and pass by what they deem distasteful, rotten, or flawed. They avoid the words of bruises and blemishes. They step upon the words of rotten worms.

What people forget is that the words left, like apples, to fall or stay resting upon the ground, broken and forgotten, do not weep. They rejoice. For they are the nurturers of the earth; the chosen ones to feed the soil and meek and tiny animals of the earth. They are the source of newness, rebirth, delight, and new blossoms of spring. They are the deep seeds that rest in the cold and darkness alone to begin again in light or to be taken away to distant land, by wing of flight or animal travels.

When you gather your words. When you collect your words, to signify who you are as a person, who you are as a soul, you cannot just pick and choose the very best apples. You cannot say: This is me, because she says so or he says so. You cannot just be the desirable apples. You are as one with nature. You, too, are the apple on the ground, stomped on and forgotten, bleed out to the earth to be reborn. You too are the distasteful and unwanted. If you are to collect the highest brightest apples, you must also recognize the fallen and forgotten apples. They are all aspects of yourself. Each and everyone. None greater or lesser. All serving purpose and truth.  You are a rotten apple. You feed the earth.

Thoughts on Healers/Leaders

  1. He or she recognizes life is ever-changing, that nothing stays the same, and thusly no list of a true leader can ever exist; that to scribe a list, to produce a list, in actuality goes against their belief system. A belief system that in and of itself shifts based on the release of attachment and widening of awakening.
  2. He or she prays or meditates or visualizes or simply thinks without thinking the potentiality and path of the higher good for all beings, whether this affects his or her current state of serenity.
  3. He or she will recognize a truth that vibrates from the core level of a person. A truth that is sometimes based on fear and false messages to self. He or she will recognize his or her own vibrational level and inner core truth, and help lift the vibration of the seeker to an optimal level through seeing, words, or simply holding the person in thought or light.
  4. He or she will sense the presence of a vibrational force in and throughout the world, in objects, thoughts, and words, as well as what is deemed living and/or breathing. He or she will have a reverence for all thing and people, and strive for unconditional love and acceptance.
  5. He or she will question both his or her actions and choice, until a time comes when action and choice moves freely in open form, embracing and loving without thought or intention.
  6. He or she will accept his or her truth as passing and pliable, easily shifted and reformed. Nothing is deemed stagnant or unmoving, even stagnation in and of itself is seen as a powerful energy, as are all things when seen in particular light.
  7. He or she will have released most, if not all, attachments and will for material gain and recognition, and hold instead the good of all as aspiration and goal. Such goals in and of themselves are offered as release, as well, as attachment to goal is too attachment in form.
  8. He or she will not see things in degrees or categories of right and wrong, or good and bad; instead the meeting point between to concepts deemed opposite shall be sensed as a vast expansive universe onto itself, incapable of comprehension or refinement. In sensing such a vast endless cavern separating two extremes, he or she will thusly understand the varying degrees of separateness of right and wrong are impossible to pinpoint, for there is no place to place a pin in an ever-expanding universe.
  9. He or she will look upon others with kindness reflected in manner, breath, presence, and perception. They will radiate light and love, and be understood as one who heals from near or far.

10. He or she will create a climate for healing through words or thoughts, providing shelter for the weary and searching without pride or condensation, see him or herself as equal, a soldier too, to self and ego, and wanderer indeed, ever-moving and journeying through tides and truths.

Yes..all these messages I heard/saw/sensed/felt/experienced during the first scenes of high-speed car chases and train escapes. Isn’t life grand!

And life isn’t all seriousness and such….sometimes it’s about finding the perfect little red dress for an upcoming event…or almost perfect! Still dress hunting….