I’m falling in love with the sensation of wet ocean sand squishing between my toes and lathering the soles of my feet.
I’m falling in love with my feet; how my little toe is smaller than his neighbor, how my feet are the perfect size and perfect shape.
I’m falling in love with floating my entire body in the healing, salt-rich sea, kicking and splashing my way from beachside to beachside.
I’m falling in love with my body: the softness of my skin, the curves, the beautiful imperfections that make me entirely me.
I’m falling in love with fruity-drinks with rum and fancy umbrellas, with the foam that tickles my lips and the buzz that tickles my view.
I’m falling in love with my view, in how I see the world, how I see people, and how my heart is big enough to embrace the entirety of the universe.
I’m falling in love with crème brulee served in minature pineapple-bowls, and garnished with large juicy strawberries and fresh whipped cream.
I’m falling in love with the little girl in me who fancies sweet treats and surprises, who wants to share her treats with a stranger, who wants to tell everyone she meets about tiny pineapple bowls.
I’m falling in love with the sun setting over the ocean while the wind blows through my blonde-streaked, windblown hair.
I’m falling in love with my capacity to love nature, the depth of my awe, the appreciation of all glorious works of this planet.
I’m falling in love with hiking down ocean cliffs to the sound of the roaring waves and wading in the warm natural sea pools with hundreds of little fish.
I’m falling in love with my courage to try new things and my appreciation of my bravery and risk taking.
I’m falling in love with catching up with my old friends, I adore, and learning about new friends, I adore.
I’m falling in love with my personality, the way I truly love people, and hold them daily in my heart and thoughts.
I’m falling in love with my potential, with my options, and with opportunity.
I’m falling in love with my skillset to seek out whatever I dream.
I’m falling in love with my family, with their humor, with their wit, with their clever observations and deep sensitivity to life and their environment.
I’m falling in love with my mothering, with all that I’ve dedicated and given without second-thought or need.
I’m falling in love with my eyes and their depth, in what they have seen and saved in silence, and what they have seen, and shared in truth.
I’m falling in love with every inch of me and every inch of my life. I am blessed. I am gifted. And I am me.
Sometimes I think I make my new friends feel like the sheep in the picture above!
There once was a big brown bear that lived in a lush green forest. This was a lovely place of songbird, of fresh streams of salmon, and strong trees hosting hives of dripping yummy honey. There was so much beauty about. But the bear spent his days worried. He worried about the streams, and the trees, and even the yummy honey. He worried about the best passage way in which to enter the stream, the best of the trees to scratch, and the best technique in which to acquire the honey. He worried the stream would run dry, the trees would die, and the honey would disappear. He worried so much that soon he couldn’t even hear the streams, see the trees, or even taste the honey. This made him worry more, until in bear’s eyes everything vanished and in place of beauty only barren land remained.
With everything seemingly gone, the bear grew sadder. His roars shook the foundation. His paws beat at his fury chest. And his big sad eyes, they searched everywhere.
In his sadness, one tree was birthed. It grew tall and strong in the middle of the barren land—a tree with a strange green fruit.
The bear touched the tree in curiosity, patting the bark and peering up at the abundance of fruit. What interesting fruit he thought. He shrugged and moaned, and reached up to pull off a fruit. But his strength was so strong that the fruit instantly burst, sending out green goop in every direction. He watched as the inner seed of the fruit rolled away, and could swear he heard the seed weeping. Again he tried to take the fruit. This time he pulled the fruit with light hand, and the fruit remained whole, but as soon as he sliced the fruit open the seed spilled out, rolled away, and he could swear he heard the seed weeping. Next, he pulled another fruit and stomped on it to release the green inside. The green remained splattered at foot, but bear swore as seed rolled away, he heard seed weeping. At last, with patience, the bear opened fruit gently and lapped up the inside, tasting the sweetness. He was pleased. Except bear was certain that the seed of the fruit rolled away weeping.
Finally the bear took another fruit down, and before doing anything he asked: “Why do you weep so little friend? Were you not made to be eaten and be relished?”
The little green fruit answered: “Yes. It is true. I was made to be eaten and to be relished. But you have forgotten the soul of me. You take what is needed. You fret over how to have your needs met. But you forget that I am more than the sweetness. Inside of me is a seed that much like you is in search of home. Yet, I am continually opened, enjoyed, and then left to roll away unnoticed.”
Bear thought. He thought very hard. He tugged on the fur of his chin and then his deep brown eyes lit up. This time bear opened the fruit slowly, with gentle claw, and before he did anything else he lifted the seed out of the fruit and buried seed in fertile ground. This time the seed giggled and began to grow.
“Oh, thank you, kind Bear,” seed whispered at his side.
With that the bear was at last able to enjoy the fruit. A smile crossed his face. And with smile the sun returned, the forest reappeared, the streams came back, and the honey dripped down. And the one tall fruit tree vanished.
Bear was very thankful. As the bear smiled, he remembered his friend the seed. And with that small thought, a small green fruit sapling appeared at bear’s side.
“Hello, friend,” bear whispered, smiling with honey on his paws.
“Hello, friend,” sapling whispered back.
“You are growing!” Bear sang.
“Oh, yes. I am growing,” sapling said with a smile.
Bear roared in glee admiring all of the beauty around him.
Bear licked his paw and smiled. “Oh, dear friend,” bear said. “Thank you for teaching me happiness is far beyond the solving.”
Sapling whispered in return, “Thank you dear Bear for knowing my longing to be placed in fertile ground. So many have fed upon my sweetness and never had the heart to hear my weeping and know my longing. Because you have known sadness, you saw my truth and I grew. And now because I know happiness, I shall see your truth, and you shall grow.”
With those happy words, the honey dripped from the sky, and bear and sapling sang with the songbirds and danced together in the clear running stream.
I think part of my condition on this earth is my utter fear of human beings.
I don’t mean this to sound negative or like a joke. I seriously think my main issue in my life is PEOPLE. This is a problem. People are everywhere.
It’s not that I dislike people. I love people.
I fear something I love. This love/fear dynamic can be compared to my love of food and fear of expanding the spare tire around my waist and/or my chin line. Though people do not inflate me, they deflate me.
I’m a sponge of sorts, soaking up people’s troubles and holding troubles, and then releasing the troubles; only in the process I get weighed down, troubled myself, and depleted in energy reserves. I suppose part of this current sponge experience is a result of my previous learnings.
What I’ve Learned
I learned through observation that if I acted kind and carefully, people wouldn’t hurt me, usually.
I learned that if I didn’t act a certain way, I would be teased or ostracized.
I learned that some people could find me and affect me no matter how I acted.
I learned that if I shared from my heart, I would be misunderstood.
I learned that if I was me, I could become invisible.
I learned to play games.
I learned to blend in.
I learned better to blend in than to stand out.
But then I longed to stand out.
I longed to be noticed and I longed not to be noticed.
I didn’t know what place was in between my longing.
Where to stand?
Sometimes I became beautiful through others’ eyes.
Through my physical beauty, I gained attention.
Attention that never felt real or pure.
Attention I longed for nonetheless.
My physical beauty aged and youthfulness faded.
I learned that people notice what they want to notice and take what they want to take.
They like a piece or part of me and then when the section no longer serves them, they leave.
They leave the part, and in leaving, they leave the whole of me.
I learned I desperately wanted love, but I wasn’t supposed to ask for love.
I wasn’t supposed to appear weak.
If I wanted love, I needed to appear strong, as if I didn’t want love.
As if I was completely satisfied in being in isolation.
I never understood this illusion of strength in aloneness.
Why people pretended they were not frightened.
Why people pretended they were an entirety, when in truth they were only an ingredient.
I don’t know if there is anything else that permeates the depths of my soul like the fear of people. Beyond the pretending and questions, perhaps my depletion occurs is the energy I pick up. The health symptoms of others I take on, the friends and relatives, and sometimes strangers who visit me in my dreams. Perhaps my fear stems from the humiliation of my youth or the loss of loved ones. Whatever the cause, from wherever this fear was rooted, it remains a tall plant intertwined within my very being. I see sucker plants sticking, prickly burs stuck. I see small specks of blood. I see rough, sword-like leaves stabbing and cotton ball seeds blocking. These are the people stuck in and about me.
I don’t know why. I don’t think I want to know why. But I do wish to change this reality. I do wish to know without question that people are not to fear. I don’t want to think about how to do this. Don’t want a plan of action or a list. I don’t want to try to change things anymore. Trying doesn’t work. I just want to believe. I want to shift. This is my reality. Shifting the fear to love.
I took out a box today from my closet marked: Spectrum Intuitive Teachings, a small box that I’d shoved in the back of my daylight basement closet months ago, without second thought. I was done with my business, my successful business. I had to quit, so I thought, because, I wasn’t doing the right thing according to someone in the world. Just like that I changed my life, believing I should not do what I’m doing.
I shoulded on my self. My fear has led me to should on my self a lot.
I’m still processing my actions. What was I thinking? Why did I change my life to please a stranger I’ve never even met? Why did I compromise? Why did I change?
I have these chameleon tendencies. I was not born a lizard. But I act like one. I change colors adapting to my environment, change appearance in hopes of blending in and not being spotted.
What is so bad about being spotted?
The fear.
And so at the heart of me is fear.
At the core penetrating my every action is fear.
Today, I release this fear.
I choose to transform this fear.
I have no one to fear.
Even though the voices shout loudly: Fear You. Fear Them. Fear. Fear. Fear. I know these are untruths.
I know much of what I learned are untruths.
Today, I untangle the untruths—a giant ball of intertwined string.
I let the untruths spiral out down a long staircase, to disperse, to lessen, to unravel, until all that remains is a long string of blue.
And then, seeing clearly and easily, I snip away at the string.
I create little pieces of untruths.
In my hands I gather the clippings.
The tiny, tiny remains.
I blow with my spirit breath.
Disperse them into the air.
The angels come now.
Take the strings away to their nests in the sky.
Where the strings are used to house the young ones.
The innocent.
The newborn.
The strings transform and serve as comfort and shelter.
I transform my giant core of fear into sheltering love.
These last four days have been life changing. The combination of the new medicine and diet for my health condition, the sunshine, and the companionship of a dear friend have pulled me out of a two month-long period of deep depression. I know now the depression was more than situational. Besides an uncomfortable experience at the university I’d been attending and the death of our beloved family dog, I discovered earlier this week that my vitamin D levels are extremely low, my iron levels still below normal, and my protein levels very low too! Throwing in my new hypothyroid diagnosis, and considering any one of the before mentioned conditions can cause exhaustion, I’m surprised I could even get off of the couch.
As I am emerging from the dark tunnel of fatigue and depression, I am celebrating internally—my spirit soaring and applauding. I am applauding a renewed energy. I am applauding my strength, endurance, and patience. And I am applauding my experience.
No matter the degree of challenge, I understand the past weeks have made me stronger in spirit.
I continue to be hopeful my health will improve. Yet, I am releasing control to my higher power.
Today, through the help of my friend, I created the mantra: I am tree.
I am a tree. And in being a tree I need not worry what will land on me, break me, climb me, peck me, burrow into me, or even cut me down. I only need to be a tree and nothing more. And I am perfect in my treeness—perfect in my being. Like a tree I will not fret and will not fight against the unknown. I will be. I will live. And I will grow.
I recognize I have slipped back into old patterns, or what I call my old mold. Just as the physical body sometimes retreats back to an old set weight, the spiritual body can retreat back to a set way of living. For me this old way of living includes a fear-based mentality and many moments of over-thinking. I am visualizing a new mold that benefits my spirit.
I recognize I have been attracting to my life much of what I have been fretting about. I recognize that by focusing on beneficial thoughts, I in turn will benefit, as will those around me. I knew this before, but today I see my journey from a new vantage point.
In the coming days my hope is to continue practices of self-care and self-love, as I release control and let the seasons of my spirit unfold without struggle. I am tree. I will be. I will live. I will grow.
My friend that I have known for almost twenty years visited me this weekend from out-of-town. Here is a list of some of the things I learned about proper etiquette during our weekend together.
You’ve Got a Friend in Me
1. Don’t take your vegan friend to dinner at a seafood and steakhouse restaurant, even if the place has a very nice water view.
2. Don’t forget to put a hand towel in the guest bathroom for hand drying.
3. Don’t forget to buy a box of Kleenex, so you don’t have to hand your friend a roll of toilet paper when she is crying.
4. Don’t give your friend unsolicited advice about her relationship with her siblings, especially if you are an only child.
5. Don’t interrupt your friend in the middle of her serious talk by leaning across the dinner table, tugging gently on her long blonde hair, and saying, “You have such pretty hair! You look like Rapunzel.”
6. Don’t accept a wrapped present from your friend, examine the shape of the gift, and before unwrapping, proudly ask, “Is this a framed photo?”
7. Don’t interrupt your friend in the middle of a joke with the punch line, even if you are super excited that you figured out the end.
8. Don’t tell your friend that the guest bedroom gives you the creeps a little bit; she might have trouble sleeping in there.
9. Don’t tell your friend that the previous owner of the house you live in filled the guest bedroom with wall-to-wall china dolls, because your friend might insist you sleep in the guest room with her.
10. Don’t tell your friend you’ll sleep in the same bedroom as her to make her feel safe and then quietly tiptoe out when she falls asleep.
11. Don’t tell your friend your son sees the ghost of your dog in the guest bedroom and that you think it might be a portal to another universe; because your friend will opt to sleep on the couch, despite the new pillow and new sheets you bought for the guest bed.
12. Don’t lean in real close and ask your friend if she can see the small zit you feel growing on the tip of your nose.
13. Don’t read ten posts of your blog in a row at midnight to your friend, even if she is laughing hysterically.
14. Don’t ask your friend if she could please listen to one more blog post, after she has yawned and said she is falling asleep.
15. Don’t show videos that you posted on your blog as an alternative to reading more posts, your friend will become more tired and her eyes will begin to shut.
~ Love you “L.” You’ve got a friend in me!
Artist:Randy Newman & Lyle Lovett Movie:Toy story
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
When the road looks rough ahead
And you’re miles and miles
From your nice warm bed
Just remember what your old pal said
Boy, you’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got troubles, well I’ve got ’em too
There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you
We stick together and we see it through
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
Some other folks might be
A little bit smarter than I am
Bigger and stronger too
Maybe
But none of them will ever love you the way I do
It’s me and you
And as the years go by
Boys, our friendship will never die
You’re gonna see
It’s our destiny
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
Everyday Asperger's 