TMI is never TMI (unless your word count is too high)

So, one of my favorite bloggers – JokersWild – here on this pressing word site told me to answer some questions. Seeing as I am a cup of joe in on a lazy Sunday morning, let’s see how many giggles I can give myself. (If you laugh too, that’s great, but really, I’m here for me :P) Here are his responses 

And now, here are mine:

What are you currently wearing?

  • So, I fell asleep in my clothes last night. You can call me lazy, slightly intoxicated, or overly exhausted mom. All apply. I’m currently wearing a thick cable knit black sweater with black leggings. I also am rocking a mild afro, because my curls can’t be tamed by any product known to man…All of my ensemble is now wrinkly and slept in, but damn is it cozy
  • Upon further reflection, I didn’t have to admit I fell asleep in my clothes…but the cat is out of the bag. 

Have you ever been in love? 🤔

  • I have been in love more times than I can count. Yet, if I might get a little on the deep side: in the past, I have erroneously viewed love as something tangible…transaction like even. “I love you” should merit “I love you too” But…isn’t that idiotic of all of us? Regardless of religious or spiritual beliefs, we all inately seem to hold a notion that we are beings made in the image of god, stardust, energy, love, whatever. My point is: If I am love, then I am always “in” love, or more accurately “Of” love. Like a wave is of or in the ocean, the words are relatively irrelevant.
  • This paragraph is a result of years of introspection, research, and “what the actual fucker-y” as related to my “love” life, which sucks more than a Dyson. It sucked because I did not understand love – for myself or another. So, my love became dependent and needy, in the sense I looked to another for happiness. I confused being “in love” with being “happy” which is another gross mistake. So, I am currently of love, in love with me and anyone who comes into my path. If some of those loves tend to walk beside me, I am grateful for the companionship. I look forward to connecting with someone who gets it, because I am very very tired of being a possessed noun.
  • See all those words? That’s a REALLY eloquent way of saying: I am as single as a one dolla bill hahahahahahaahahahahaha

Ever had a terrible break up?

  • Oh man, have I.  My marriage ended in a fist fight, so there’s that. Yet, amazingly, my ex husband is (as he’s always been) my best friend because the past is an illusion we cling to to avoid the present and happiness. 
  • After my husband, I became “in love” with a dude who I became obsessed with and kind of became a stalker and totally made an ass of myself, hence the realization of the above. 
  • So grateful for all my bad/good relationships, how else would I have figured out I gotta love me first 😀 My ex’s have all been wonderful gurus to help me find the best damn guru on this blue and green orb – ME!

How old are you?

  • I am 35 going on 80

How tall are you?

  • I am 5’5″ which means I am tall enough to trip over my pants, but petite clothes are too short, and the top shelves of cabinets are a mysterious land to which I will never lay my eyes on…

How much do you weigh?

  • I’m going to guess somewhere in the 230’s presently. Thanks to 20+ years of eating disorders, I avoid scales because if I measure myself in numbers, I’ll go crazy(ier)… I have gained so much weight in the last year with stress/emotional eating, that I woke up and realized I had to get my ass back to yoga and stop eating everything or I will put myself right back in old self-destructive cycles. 
  • I could be all sad about the weight gain, but now I have a butt. I never had a butt before, more like a vague suggestion of a butt, or perhaps the bottom of my back got into a fight and decided it was time to go their separate ways… Now, I have a butt. It’s there, I can feel it, and I admire it a lot.
  • This was supposed to be TMI, so I’m going there. Seriously, I look at my butt in the mirror all the time, I say hello…I got a thing for butts – my old blog was “MahButtItches” and my self fulfilling prophecy 2 years ago was “The Butt will Grow” I should have been more specific that “the rest of me will not” 

Do you have any piercings?

  • Yep – I have 6 on one ear and 5 on the other. I also have a nose ring. Until it eroded my gums, I had a tongue ring as well. I am currently itching to pierce my tongue again as well as snake bites, but I doubt I’ll do it. Because I want more tattoos. Also, I can’t shake the notion I’m kind of old for impulse piercings…impulse tattoos on the other hand….

What’s your favourite drink?

  • When I’m being “healthy”, water with lemon or oranges or cucumber or strawberries or whatever. Produce water.
  • In the realm of alcohol, I am an avid IPA nut (which according to research, makes me a psychopath, so watch yourself), I love mojitos too, and margaritas…I tend to avoid liquor now because I end up drunk, naked, and occasionally howling at the moon on a roof…or puking in a car, or puking anywhere…LOOOTS of puking. Actually, I just stay away from Vodka…it’s just bad news bears. 
  • So…hot.

What’s you favourite song?

What’s your zodiac sign?

  • Libra

How long does it take you to shower?

  • If I’m running late, as usual – 5-10 minutes
  • If I have time, I can be in there 45 minutes…well, probably more bath that way, I love baths. I dump all sorts of good smelly shit in there (shit being of the colloquial sense, I do not bathe in feces) and I soak my troubles away

What’s your favourite show?

  • I finished Sons of Anarchy not that long ago, and I am still in love with Jax Teller… #whyIAmSingle – I am in fictional relationships with fictional characters OR vocalists of assorted bands…Just call me Mrs. Maynard James Keenan, if you will…

What’s your favourite band?

  • You know…this has made me realize how useless the word favourite is…”too many to count” would really suggest I do not have a favorite, in that there are so many I love equally? I don’t know, just seems a useless word. Or at least, for me. I guess I do not have a favorite, but here’s an insane amount of bands:
  • TOOL, A Perfect Circle, Puscifer, Stone Sour, Slipknot, Avenged Sevenfold, Mudvayne, Portishead/Beth Gibbons, Coheed & Cambria, Notorious B.I.G, WuTang Clan, Eminem, Katy Perry, Machinehead, Trivium, Elvis Costello, David Bowie, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Fleetwood Mac, Joni Mitchell, Janis Joplin, King 810, holy fuck I sound nuts hahahahahahahahaha
  • Independent Artists (making this separate because I really want to emphasize artists changing the paradigm of music…although Puscifer is the same, but I’m babbling): Widetrack L.A.W (Love All Ways)Leo Moracchioli – Frog Leap Studios
  • how about this: I love everything music except country. Hard, hard pass on country. I just can’t even.

Where do you go when you’re sad?

  • I go to my therapist, her name is music. I play songs that echo my emotions so I can feel, accept, and release. Then, like my mind, I change the track and move on. 
  • Sometimes, if things are really tough, I go to my other therapist, my car. I play music and I drive for hours to nowhere. As the scenes change before my eyes, I can let the scenes change inside as well. 
  • Shanteel Yoga Sanctuary where my breath and movement can cultivate my true nature: calm in the storm. 
  • My Journal or blog to give voice to whatever needs a voice.

How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?

  • Ha, how presumptive, you think I get ready in the morning…
  • Seeing as I tend to wander the earth in my pajams (unless I sleep in my clothes), there is never really “getting ready”. You could call this lazy, I would call it perpetually prepared. 
  • That’s a lie, I call it lazy too. AND might I add, comfortable 😉

Have you ever been in a physical fight?

  • Yes..I used to be pretty violent. My walls lost a lot. 

What turns you on?

  • People who can introduce new perspectives, HUMOR (that should be first, oh well, we’re not deleting here), people who aren’t afraid or ashamed of their scars/bullshit/crazy/whatever, authenticity
  • Neck kisses/bites
  • RESPECT
  • Did I say funny? Funny people. Funny people are the best. I wish I was funny 😛

What turns you off?

  • Idiots, Stupidity, Ignorance, SMALL TALK (EW), disrespect… actually take everything I said above and make it opposite. there you go.

Qualities you look for in a partner?

  • Hmm…seeing as necrophilia is wholly frowned upon, I will go with a pulse and respiration. 

Loud or soft music?

  • Loud baby, if it’s too loud, you’re too old…unless it gets too loud, in which case, I’d prefer soft. It really just depends on how I am using the music. If I’m driving? Sunny day? Windows down and blast that good shit.

Favourite quote?

  • “No one is more dangerously insane then one who is sane all of the time” ~Alan Watts (AKA my dead philosopher husband…#WhyIAmSingle)

Favourite actor?

  • If you followed my blog MahButtItches, you will know this answer very clearly would be Jeff Goldblum. 
  • Also: Sir Anthony Hopkins, Jonny Depp, Mike Myers, Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise, Omg, whatever, all of them…

Do you have any fears?

  • My only fear is not having lived before I die. Seeing as I am dying every moment I’m living, I suppose I am deathly afraid of spiders, and weird creepy crawly things, and small rodents and whatnot. I just don’t need to be surprised by something in my mouth or bed or whatever that I wasn’t expecting.
  • That sounds SO dirty. No delete. Also accurate. I don’t think I’d appreciate waking up with a random penis in my mouth either. Buy me dinner first, sheesh.

What’s the last thing that made you cry?

  • I just finished reading The Book of Joy, and reading the Tibetan children describing leaving their families behind to journey to India…I’m going to start crying now. There was this one little boy talking about saying goodbye to his Mother…these kids are 5…his father brought him to India and said he would be right back and he never saw him again.  Can you imagine? 
  • I also weirdly teared up during Thor: Ragnarok last night when Thor was talking to Sir Anthony Hopkins as Odin and he was saying how Thor is stronger than him…
  • If you think that’s weird, I sobbed, and I mean SOBBED when King Kong died..
  • I’m vewwwy speshul

Last time you said you loved someone?

  • 5 minutes ago when I said goodbye to my friend
  • Then I kissed my wee man and told him I love him too. 
  • Aww fuck it, whoever you are reading this: I love you too

Last book you read?

  • The Book of Joy – Dalai Lama, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, and Douglas Abrams

The book you’re currently reading?

  • Waking Up: A Guide to Spirituality Without Religion by Sam Harris
  • The Yamas & Niyamas – Deborah Adele
  • The Bhagavad Gita – (actually just bought Ram Dass’ version because I wanted to see his thoughts on this…previously I’ve been reading a passage at a time and letting it marinate, but his is called Paths to God Living the Bhagavad Gita)
  • The Dhammapada (kind of same as Bhagavad Gita, I’m reading a passage every so often and letting it marinate
  • A Course in Miracles

Last show you watched?

  • I guess Sons of Anarchy, oh and Last Week Tonight – it’s like the only show I actually watch with regularity until Westworld FINALLY comes back and of course Game of Thrones

Last place you were?

  • I was at this super awesome adorable wonderful cafe – Down To Earth Cafe – all local/organic food, amazing coffee, it’s just so cool. I have a Sunday Breakfast/Brunch date there with my soul sistah who is going to be joining me on this writing journey as an author on this here blog, so woot! That’s what we were nomming and talking over today.

Last sport you played?

  • Does yoga count as a sport? If not, I have no frigging clue. Probably mini golf. Is that a sport? 

Who’s the last person you talked to?
My wee man – which I mean, my youngest son, not some sort of dirty double entendre or anything. 

The last song I sang?

  • I was just belting out “What’s Up” by 4 Non Blondes, but covered by Leo Moracchioli. Prior to that was I’m Too Sexy…

Favorite chat up line?

  • WTF is a chat up line? I talk to people on Facebook Messenger and text a lot. I have snapchat, I use it randomly.

Do you have a crush?

  • Uhh…. I would love to have an Orange Crush right about now. 

The relationship between you and the person you last texted?

  • My soul Sistah!

Favourite food?

  • See again with the favorite thing. All the foods. Except the foods I don’t like.
  • Italian especially
  • Although I can’t forget Sushi
  • Omg and Indian – ALL THE KORMAS
  • I’m hungry now

Place you want to visit?

  • It would probably be easier to say where I do not want to visit and that would be an uncleaned port-a-potty. Ugh.

What’s the last time you kissed someone?

  • I kiss my children on the daily, yo
  • I think this was meant to be more scintillating, and in that case, I don’t know, probably a couple weeks ago? Maybe? 

Last time you were insulted?

  • Uhh…probably same timeline as above. We are all shittalkers, yo. Some of us are more honest/verbal….

Favorite sweets?

  • All of the sweets – except cake. I’m not much of a cake person, I don’t know why. Unless it’s rum cake, because that is delicious.

What instruments do you play?

  • I am an avid skin flutist
  • I’m just kidding

Favourite piece of jewellery?

  • I wear a mala pretty frequently, when I don’t forget to put it on. 

Last time you hung out with anyone?

  • This morning, cause i’m super popular and cool and whatnot
  • Who should answer these questions?
    Your Mom.
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I Am Santa Claus

 

My oldest is 11 years old. I knew last year the clock was ticking on his belief in the Big Red Man. I’ve heard so many parents say once kids stop believing, the magic dies. Last year, I began asking why we lie to kids about Santa. Why do we concoct this huge story just to ultimately tell them, “Actually that’s not true. Enjoy your shattered dreams” (maybe that’s dramatic).

I wrote here about changing my attitude with Christmas. I had lost the magic of Christmas myself because I viewed it as a consumer-driven burden. A part of this feeling was: I’m setting my kids up for this huge disappointment! One day, I have to sit down and tell them Santa isn’t real?

I’m not saying I’ve mused on this for a year straight, but it has been on my mind. I knew this would be the last year my oldest would buy the Santa story, if at all. I went for a long drive a couple days ago, because I was overwhelmed with people (read: my family haha) and I just needed time to not think. With some loud metal and the open road, I figured I could clear my head and figure this all out.

The solution dawned on me in everything I was doing already. It’s simple and I don’t understand why I wasn’t seeing it. I am Santa Claus. Santa is the metaphor of goodness, kindness, generosity, and love. We invented a magical story to capture children’s imagination and wonder, but the true magic is in the truth. Every year, their father and I bust our butts to create magic. That’s not even Christmas, that’s every day.

We don’t need a fat guy in a red suit to be magical.

mag·ic
ˈmajik/
noun

 

1.
the power of apparently influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces.

Is there any force more supernatural than love? I’m not talking about the stupid crap we are sold in movies and everything. I am talking about action. Doing what needs to be done and transcending your own ego to care for others. Thinking inside the box of our ego is our natural instinct. Supernatural is love and compassion.

I kept thinking I had to come up with a way to “make up” for killing Santa Claus to my kid or lying to him, or whatever. I view everything in this world as energy. Energy cannot be destroyed. If I talk to my child, I can transfer his belief in a magic that does not exist as presented into the magic that exists in every moment of every day. I believe my kids are wiser than I am, as it is. I did not want to avoid the conversation, and I wanted to sublimate the energy of his beliefs. To me, he could either doubt everything remotely magical, or I can teach him to see the magic in every moment.

We told my oldest that we are Santa Claus. That his grandparents, aunts, uncles, and everyone in his life are Santa Claus. We explained the story is not true – there is no one at the North Pole, but we tell that story to teach little kids the magic of Christmas – the magic of love, kindness, generosity, and gratitude. Since he is a big kid now, he’s old enough to hear the real, true magic. Santa Claus lives in each one of us – in our hearts, not the North Pole. If he thinks back on all his Christmases, that was Mommy and Daddy making magic. Magic is very, very real, and we don’t need a special person. We are all able to create magic – even if it is a hug, a smile, or any kindness.

We welcomed him to our Santa Claus club and told him he is Santa Claus now, too. He has to keep the secret of Santa until his brother and sister are old enough to join the real club. We invited him to stay up late with us on Christmas Eve and be Santa with us.

My son was smiling. “I am Santa Claus?”

“Yep, buddy. Every person you meet is Santa Claus – some just don’t know it yet!”

We showed him some of the gifts his brother and sister are getting, and we emphasized that he’s a big boy, and this is a HUGE responsibility and we’re trusting him to keep the secret. It’s part of being in the club.

He just kept saying, “I am Santa Claus!”

It’s a pretty cool way to teach magic. I couldn’t kill his magic. I want him to see he is magic. It was nice to learn it myself. You get older, you get dumber. So grateful for my wise little man teaching me to be a wise old woman. Instead of seeing $$ signs, I’m seeing the magic of being the magic – in every way.

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Merry Christmas, Everyone! Thank you so much for reading. How have you handled the Santa Claus situation? Maybe this inspires a few convos!! Thank you for liking, commenting, and sharing my writing! 

The Nightmare Before Christmas

One of the musings I wanted to do with this blog is my bizarre takes on music and movies/entertainment. I do not believe any fiction is pure fiction; everything is a metaphor. The beauty of fiction is you can interpret the metaphor however you’d like. Our beautiful lies – one meaning – is the definition of a metaphor. Is that not what fiction is? Today, especially since we are a week from Christmas, I thought I’d write on one of my favorite movies and some of the metaphors I’ve found for myself.

One of my favorite movies of all time is The Nightmare Before Christmas. Why? I’m an overgrown child, I love Tim Burton and Jack Skellington. I have probably watched this movie 300 times now. As a matter of fact, as I’m (barely) preparing for Christmas, it’s the only Christmas movie I’ve watched.

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Look at it as Jack trying to understand his role in life. Here he is the Halloween King, but he feels unfulfilled. He feels as though he does the same damn thing every day. Then, he finds this new, happy world. He feels a new feeling he has never felt before, and he feels “Just like his old boney self again” (I want everyone to know, full disclosure, any quotation will be from direct memory because I am that much of a dork) As he tries to understand Christmas more, he studies it, he “knows the stories, and he knows the rhymes…he knows the Christmas carols all by heart…his skull is so full it’s tearing him apart..!”

I don’t care that he’s a clay puppet, I have never resonated with a character more in my life. Jack and Sally have always felt like me talking to myself. Ultimately, Jack tries to be what he is not – Sandy Claws – and blows shit up. That’s been my life. Even studying as much as I have – I have read spiritual books, blogs, etc. yet nothing made sense. “What is this?” indeed. I have listened to probably every Alan Watts seminar, and from there I have ventured into philosophy as a whole. Reading psychology books to understand the alphabet soup of my diagnoses help me see, I suppose, I’m not alone, but I still felt as though I did not belong. I look around and I see a Halloween-town world, and me wishing I could just…get…it.

I’ve had so many moments where my world is metaphorically in flames, and I’m sitting there with my head in my hands wondering what I’ve done. Again. How in the hell is it so hard to be happy? You watch Jack trying to explain Christmas to the Halloweentown people, and they make Christmas into their Halloween version. They’re all happy just following his lead, but he knows he’s not even happy.

Jack Skellington helped me understand the great Tao.

How did Jack become happy? He stopped trying to be Santa Claus, he stopped studying Christmas, he stopped trying to Christmas, and he realized, he IS the Pumpkin King. He realized he wasn’t happy because he was too busy focusing on being miserable, saying he did not have this, did not have that, and seeing his life as a neverending chore. The harder he fought to understand “that special kind of feeling in Christmas-town” the less he understood. This is exactly how Taoism is explained. This is actually how almost any religion is explained. You cannot actually intellectually understand things like faith, belief, or God. I mean, honestly, how do you even understand Santa Claus?

“Just because I cannot see it doesn’t mean I can’t believe it!”

We use Santa as a metaphor to explain kindness, generosity, and really – magic. (Then we basically tell our children we lied, and let them lose faith in magic, but that’s another post…) These are words, though. Symbols. Representations. In truth, words are metaphors of knowledge and information. Much of our lives exist outside the realm of tangible concepts. I can show you 1+1 = 2 and I can explain it in words. Kindness and love, however, are best put in metaphors, stories, and even best: example. I can wrap my arms around you in a hug, and that’s all you need.

Jack realized after he ruined Christmas (experiential learning – not studying), he’s not Santa Claus, he had to be himself. He gained a new appreciation for who he was, and a new perspective on his life. The metaphor of the great Tao is water, as God, Tao, etc. none of these can be put in words. Jack realized he can’t study Christmas, he just has to be that feeling. Isn’t that what everything teaches you? You can’t study happiness, you have to choose happiness. You can study methods of happiness or practices that support happiness, much like you can smash a bat and turn it into a hat. You can create all the accoutrements of Christmas, but it will not be Christmas unless you are it.

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After all the studying I’ve done, re-watching my favorite movie as a kid made me figure it out. Irony! Yet that is how it all works. You cannot think your way out of a problem, we just think we can. The more you think, the harder it is, to be perfectly honest. This is why meditation, contemplation, and other practices are important. What is most important, however, is being true to yourself. Don’t act like Buddha, or act like Santa Claus. It’s far more important to find what sets you on fire and do that. If it’s overanalyzing children’s movies to understand the Tao, hey man, whatever works.

Inspiration alights in a child’s wondrous eyes.

Then, you have the iconic image of Jack and Sally falling in love on the hill in front of the moon. Once Jack gets his head out of his ass and sees the woman who loves him right in front of his eyes, that he has been surrounded by everything all along, life is pretty cool, right? Nothing actually changed, did it? Jack changed his attitude, everyone else stayed the same.

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The first two tattoos I got were Jack and Sally on my wrists.  I got my first tattoos about a month after I started writing as a Memento-esque tribute to myself. They were a mile marker of me realizing my bullshit, writing about my bullshit, and in many ways, killing off my own Oogie Boogie (my bugs! my bugs!) if you will. I chose the placements specifically because, on my left wrist, I used to cut myself. When I was feeling particularly crappy, I liked to stare at my scars and ruminate. Time has marched on, and those scars are all but invisible to anyone but me and my memory. Now, I have Jack’s smiling face and “Smile Now” looking at me on my wrist. On my right wrist, I have Sally looking sad, saying “Cry Later”.  That’s my harmony. There’s no time for ruminating on my old scars, but it’s okay to be sad. It was the first metaphor I created from my favorite movie.

This is why metaphors are important, to me. Every time I revisit a story I love, I find new inspiration. When I was a little girl, I fell in love with the story. As I’ve grown older, I use stories to help me become my own story. The greatest mistake anyone can make, in my mind, is handing the pen of your life to someone else. That includes spiritually too, for words are a copy of reality – a metaphor. They transfer knowledge, they are not the knowledge. Inspiration and interpretation are your gifts alone, as only you possess your mind. Mine, apparently, finds the Tao in Halloween town.

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…and I just can’t wait until next Halloween, cause I’ve got some new ideas that will really make them scream!

Thank you for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts – any other metaphors? Any movies that have really inspired you throughout your whole life? I appreciate your likes, comments, and shares so much! This was an absolute blast to put together, although I was questioning my sanity pretty good. hahahaha 🙂