Life is my muse...

As Is

2008-10-11T12:31:00.000-07:00

My Grandmother talks to her puzzle pieces. I think it’s a hobby. “Okaaaay. Where are you?” she’ll say as she scans the table looking for an end piece to finish off a picture of a basket full of apples and two kittens. I told her we should get some good glue and a nice frame and hang one of the puzzles when she’s done with it. She always thinks that’s a good idea. Today she rearranged the entire living room – big, bulky, old-fashioned furniture and all – by herself while I was out running errands. I turned the key and pushed open the front door only to have it hit the recliner. “Hang on!” she yelled. I waited for her to move it out of the way, and then walked into the living room and saw that it had practically doubled in size. Really all that had happened was that Grandma got sick and tired of the way the living room looked. Her words, not mine. So she moved some stuff around and now the dogs have ample space to roll around and bite each other’s tails. She maneuvered the two recliners so that they now sit parallel to one another and in between them now sits an end table. “You know, for my drink,” she said with a smirk. My Grandmother has a nightly ritual –one glass of rum and coke while she watches Two and a Half Men on Mondays, and for every other day of the week, it’s reruns of Reba. Bad television and consistency – hallmarks of the golden ages, I think.

Since moving in with my Grandparents, I’ve learned the fine art of sitting down to read the newspaper. Actually I had to witness both Grandparents do it first (it was a strange sight for my technologically advanced eyes), then pick up the Lifestyles section to really learn anything of my own. I learned that the local writer of the horoscopes is mostly pretty pessimistic. No one is ever allowed to have a kick –ass day. It’s always along the lines of “Today you may be enthusiastic about a pipe dream that has little likelihood of attainment. Don’t even bother getting out of bed.” I’ve learned that my inner artist thinks that writing and illustrating a comic would be a really cool job to have. I’ve learned that a local steakhouse was just named best new restaurant in Northern California. But I think the coolest thing I’ve learned about reading the paper is that it’s much more satisfying than just scanning the headlines that happen to make it onto the Yahoo! homepage. Something about participating in the act comforts me. I think it just makes me feel more connected to my Grandparents.

My Grandparents do not have the internet at their house. Some days this feels brutal. Accessibility seems to be one of the most important things to my generation. Without it, we are sort of lost. Blackberry’s, and email, and texting and Facebook…it can all get somewhat overwhelming. But at the same rate it has become somewhat of a necessity. It has become everyday life. Just last week I broke my phone and almost broke out in hives over realizing I would not only be without the internet, but also a cell phone. One hundred and ten percent unreachable. Talk about brutality. But if living with my Grandparent’s has taught me anything it’s that simplicity is bliss. My grandmother doesn’t have to learn to live without the internet like I’ve had to, because she’s never had to live with it. So I learned how to sit down and really enjoy a book without the interruptions of text messages on my cell phone. I learned how to really BE outside in the backyard without the distraction of my laptop urging me to check my Facebook for the 10th time that day. Perception, it would seem, is also bliss.

In my grandmother’s world there is always something to do. She’ll put as much attention and focus into her puzzles as she does when she’s mopping the floor or cooking dinner. It’s admirable. She seems to have no real difficulty with embracing the moment fully. I know when she is tired because she lets out a long and (she would smack me on the back of the head if she knew I was saying this) dramatic sigh. It’s no real secret that she doesn’t feel too fondly of the animals but in rare moments I’ll catch her calling the dogs her “babies”. She complains a lot of the time that my Grandpa makes her do too much, that he doesn’t appreciate what she does end up for him (which is everything he asked of her in the first place). Then almost in the same breath, she’ll comment about how handsome he is. The importance of balance and compromise is another thing I’ve learned.

Still…the most important thing I’ve learned here is who I am. I am different from the people in my family, that’s never been a big secret. Growing up I very much felt like the “black sheep”. My family isn’t the hugging, touchy-feely kind; I am. My family does not say we love on another as often as I think we all probably need to hear it; I believe that not saying those words causes too much pain, too much trouble that a very expensive shrink will have to later dissect. (Author’s note: Save your loved ones future pain and money and tell them you love them, NOW!) This used to make me feel kind of bitter and confused about what I was born into; about who I really was. But, moving in with my Grandparents has put an end to all of that because in learning how I was different from my family, I was also shown who I was becoming. Of course if I think I’m the only person in the world who sometimes feels disconnected from the people who raised me, I’m plain nuts. I think this longing to understand our roots is one of the most common human conditions. I may never understand why love and expression is awkward for my family, but I can do my part anyway. In other words, I can still be me.

I stand apart from most of the people in my family – Grandparent’s included – and it’s those exact qualities of unalike that have brought me closer to them. It feels liberating to accept myself and also accept my family as is. We do things differently around here. We do things our way and we speak in a language that we all understand and respond to. There are still things to learn from my family and I hope that I’m able to help us all open up a little bit more. I hope I’m able to grow further into the person I’m becoming and not forget where I came from. To put it in another way, I hope I never lose this puzzle piece that has been missing for so long.

In Between

2008-09-27T23:54:00.000-07:00

I feel like I should be doing something, but I don’t know what. Cars are whizzing by of course. It’s almost quitting time and tired people are wanting nothing more than to get home. So they drive faster and make more noise. Grandma is doing a puzzle. This time she’s doing the one with two kittens playing inside a basket filled with apples. I remarked earlier when we were eating leftover spaghetti and almost stale garlic bread in an awkward attempt to make small talk, how the grey kitten with the green eyes was cute.

Grandpa is still in Mexico, though he gets home tomorrow. He’ll be arriving with his uncle whom speaks very little English. I’m relieved by this because it means the only real conversion I’ll have with him is the lending of my room and my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch. The bed nor the room is really mine. I am living rent-free in my Grandparents house. I just got my dream job. I start Monday. I’m petrified. I don’t think I’ll have to pay rent here as long as I’m out within six months.
I am tired every single day. After sleeping eight hours, which I’ve always known to be plenty for me, I am still tired. I feel like I could sleep the days away and in fact I have many times before. I feel bad for my heart. It got stuck with this mind of mine that is always scared, always tired. I’m supposed to go to a free health clinic on Sunday. I’m scared to do that too. I’ve been putting this off for nearly two years. I’ve diagnosed myself from everything to cervical cancer to having an ulcer. I guess we’ll see if I’m right.

I could read, though I’ve been reading for the past hour. Other people’s words comfort me far too often. I don’t know if this is a bad thing, but I still feel like I should be doing something. Or creating something. Or something.

I wonder if most 24 year olds feel this way. I think most 24 year olds are more established and that still makes me feel bad from time to time. Some are married with children – I wouldn’t want that life. Some are still in school or finishing their second degrees – as much as I love to learn, I can’t fathom paying 22 thousand dollars every semester. Some are well into their careers and are happy but who can ever really be sure? Happiness is such a diverse thing. What makes me happy isn’t guaranteed to make you happy, and vice versa. And who says a plague on the wall confirming intelligence and a graduation date stamped in gold means much more than being thousands of dollars in debt. Does debt make people happy? It would seem so.

People buy things in attempts to uncover their happiness and all it does is take up space. I want a cozy home, a garden, a shady spot underneath a tree to write or read, books in every room of the house, a big kitchen with counter space for flowers, laughter on a regular basis, and a well-worn passport. I wonder how to get from here – this tired, aimless, somewhat frightened state, to there – the blissful, peaceful, content space in the somewhere Future. I wonder. And wondering will get me nowhere except everywhere in my writing.

I am under the covers on a very warm September day. It’s late afternoon and I already walked to the library today. I am buffered between a mind that is unsure and a heart that wants to explore. I just wish I knew what to do with myself in this strange, almost dreamlike state of in-between-ness.

You

2008-09-10T11:48:00.001-07:00

You’ve decided that not believing in yourself is an annihilation of the soul. It is an unconditional sin. It is a dependable unavailability. It is a curse without a disguise. You play it safe when you do not believe in yourself. You dip a toe into superb waters and pull it back out before gauge of temperature even registers. So-called “leaps of faith” are passionately out of the question. There is nothing to ask, and nothing to ponder. You just perch nervously. You never break a sweat, you never scrape your knees, and you never feel a damn thing other than the unmitigated phobia of yourself. You tell the mirror you are just cautious. Your heart pleads with you and you silence it with more self-doubt. Why are you so alert? it says. Your fears have no merit. You never even gave yourself a chance.

You wore your father’s tragic beliefs like a parka in an igloo of self-deception. He gave it to you unknowingly. You trusted him and his flawed dispositions because you were a loyal five-year old with too much forsaken love. Maybe he would love you if you did things his way, you thought. You were wrong. Your heart was too tremendous for a person who never quite knew what to do with it. You knocked on his door and he didn’t even know how to turn the knob. Maybe he was just afraid of himself too. Here was a little girl; his little girl, who had what he didn’t even know he needed; didn’t believe himself to be worthy, and everyone lost out.

When you doubt yourself you have vibrant desires that desperately beg to see the light of day. You want to see the globe, but your vision is too narrow to look beyond the fear you carry around in your old and tired baggage. You want to know real adventure but doubts linger for far too long like cigarette smoke on clean linens. They never seem to wash out. You sought external adoption from alcohol because internal acceptance was too unthinkable. Alcohol made you a part of the family at your first gathering. It was a self-betrayal that was birthed from the miscarriage of self-belief. Through a program of self-reliance you learned to walk it off. Through recovery you’ve learned to be grateful you can walk at all.

Looking back, you see how not believing in yourself was your weapon of mass self-destruction. It opened up unfortunate doors to a world you didn’t have to know existed. You realize that nothing that has happened to you can be erased, it can only be written over. No one is to blame; there are no valid fingers to be pointed. You pick yourself up by the strap of your ankle boots and you just keep walking. At first the self-belief is a bit flimsy. You trip a few times, succumbing to the fear when the unfamiliarity gets too frightening. You aren’t really sure if this is how it’s supposed to be done, if this is how normal people do it. You are almost certain this is absolutely not how normal people do it. You feel bizarre. You are Bashful and Wobbly in a flamboyant parade of Stability. You quiver anyway because your new gait is too genuine to disown. You know to just keep walking because you understand there is no other way. You unearth new trails because you must. You develop a relationship with a Divinity you don’t dare question. This Love is too powerful to be a gimmick.

Your heart gets much louder. The pleading has stopped sounding whiny and irritating, and starts sounding like your own voice. The voice you forgot you had, the voice your father was never able to pass down to you. The voice you start turning to in times of need. Your dreams get bolder. They make themselves known and you no longer ignore the picture they paint. In short, you start to believe. Self-belief becomes a daily practice of affirming in your mind that you are whole. That there is nothing lacking, that everything is in its place. You especially. Life begins to feel like Christmas morning. There are gifts everywhere. You start to love everything, even the things your thoughts tell you not to. Your heart understands sometimes jewels are packaged and sold as unremarkable rock. You accept you will walk this path for the remainder of your days, gleefully. With maps and tools in hand, you let go of the strain on your heart, and you continue on the odyssey towards yourself.

~Me

Wherever I go, there I am? Great...

2008-09-03T11:47:00.000-07:00

Since my last post, everything has changed. I've moved back home to sunny Northern California. I'm living with my Grandparents. I've stopped eating vegan. I've forgotten everything. I don't want to be that person who runs to a new state or city every time her life feels shitty, but right now that's what I feel like doing. I'm not sure if I got overly confident during my Great Big Spiritual Pause, but when I came back home, had to find a job, had to sign up for school, had to apply for scholarships and Financial Aid and get my driver's license again...it all became too much for me. The 'real world' that I had managed to escape while in Arizona, found me again in California and punched me in the face. It was a collision I didn't really anticipate.

I'm not sure what I, if anything, I did 'wrong' in Arizona. I know what I felt and I know what it was, and it was a spiritual meeting between me and my God for sure. I just wonder then why when I came home, I let it all go to hell. I stopped meditating, I stopped doing yoga, I stopped eating well, I stopped all the things that changed me. And when I try to do them here, in my room that sits just off the busiest street in all of Santa Clara, CA...I feel nothing. Cars whiz by every hour of every day and my God gets lost in the hustle and bustle of other people's lives. It was easy to feel Him in AZ...I was home alone. There was no traffic. But isn't that a cop-out? Surely city folks have been meditating and becoming a vessel to that Divine Love just as long as hippies sleeping beneath redwoods. Why is it such a hard endeavor for me to hold onto?

And let me just clarify for a minute here: it is SO SO SO much more than just the meditation. It is the feeling of complete and utter peace and serenity that came along with it. It is the feeling of an unshakable belief in all good things, but firstly and especially myself. I gained confidence in myself for the first time ever this Summer while meditating in the desert. Everyday people are able to balance their busy and chaotic lives with their peaceful and tranquil Spirituality practices. I seem to have failed pretty significantly.

I don't know if moving in with my Grandparents was the right thing do to. I don't know if I'll ever get back to that warm place in my heart where nothing felt impossible, but I sort of feel like I must. I might be searching for it my whole life. I hope not. I am reading "Wherever You Go, There You Are: Mindfulness Meditation in Everyday Life" by Jon Kabat-Zinn. It feels fitting, and a lot of his techniques and concepts are comforting. In it, he quotes Thoreau's poem "Walden": "I grew in those seasons like corn in the night...they were not time subtracted from my life, but so much over and above my usual allowance." I remember what that feels like. Thoreau spent two years of his life in solitude at Walden Pond. He felt the need to quiet his life enough to get back to basics and meet his God. I am in good company.

I feel like this need to meet my God again, or at the very least to just FEEL that profound-ness again, is so much more than a need. It's become an absolute fervent necessity. I am on a maddening hunt for it, and the irony is not lost on me. If I am looking for that peace any place other than in my heart, I am a fool. I think my problem comes from feeling like I do not have enough time. I need to find a job, yesterday. I need my Financial Aid money, yesterday. I need to get things situated for school, yesterday. I keep putting everything off because I don't feel that peace and confidence in myself, and I don't feel that confidence because I keep putting everything off. SERIOUSLY! Why? If my life's work is to find this peace, I'll gladly engage. Honestly, all I want to do with my life is to capture the world and by default God and Love through my camera lens and be able to make a living off of it. Why is something so simple so elusive?

T

Loss and Renewal

2008-07-09T12:40:00.001-07:00

First things first. My best friend's father passed away last night at 2 in the morning. He had developed cancerous "blasts" in his blood just two days prior. His heart stopped sometime around 11 PM, and doctors did everything they could. This will be a time of sadness and loss for her family (who, after being best friends for 15 years, is also my own) so I ask that you please send the Bridgewater family love, light, goodness, good memories and an abundance of healing. I am very sad. Having to deal with mortality of course brings up all sorts of interesting thoughts and feelings. I wonder what this loss will teach me? What would you do if you knew you only had two more days to live?

Tonight I am going to burn a paper in which I wrote the word "FEAR" on, bury a paper into the Earth in which I wrote down every single one of my dreams so they can get some roots and grow, and say aloud this prayer that I just wrote for myself:

"May I leave a warm, kind mark wherever I go, and on everyone I meet.
May I always burst through walls of fear, and never look back.
May I make every choice in my life out of Love and not fear.
May I always Trust in my heart.
Maybe I always show Love and Respect to Mama Earth.
May I vow to love animals by not eating them.
May I never forget my ruby red slippers nor that my home never leaves me.
May I talk with my God everyday and promise to LISTEN to what He says.
May I always remember that above all, Love will set me free."

I think I'm almost ready to spread these wings.
Teresa xo

All love given returns

2008-07-08T21:16:00.000-07:00

Hello lovely arc angels,

Today was an emotional day for me. Big time, anxiety-filled, nervous system overload emotional day. I did something REALLY STUPID early in the morning. I got involved in someone else's drama and negativity and that sucker latched onto me QUICK and did not let go until I squashed it with good ol' loving. Lesson learned: stay out of other people's shit. Don't matter if they dangle it right in front of your beautiful face - IGNORE! You have the right and actually the responsibility if you are on this spiritual/self-exploration path with me to turn and walk in the opposite direction of negativity. Actually, you should run in the opposite direction. It's for your own good.

Anyway, that negativity manifested itself into pretty much every nook and cranny in my life today. All day I felt "off", sad, anxious, like I was waiting for a train that would never show up and I was already an hour late. Even as I was immersing myself in their business, I heard my lil heart cry out "Teresa STOP please." Did I listen? Nope. thought it was my responsibility to inform the fighters that I didn't enjoy hearing their bullshit, and THIS is how you are supposed to handle yourselves, and blah blah. Did THEY listen? Nope! They just kept fighting. So I got involved for no damn good reason. Lesson learned.

The funny thing is, I think that negativity helped me in a big way today. It put me in this funky mind frame and if I had been in a better one, I'm not sure I would have saw the lesson I was supposed to learn today. I might have dipped my foot into those murky waters, but I'm pretty sure I would not have dived right in like I did today. i'm being really cryptic, I know. I'm sorry. I don't really have the emotional or intellectual energy to get into it right now. But I will say this: I let go of my past today. I had been lugging a lot of old crap around with me for far too long. It was time I sent it up to the Heavens to be turned into loving energy and that's EXACTLY what happened. I let go, and what I got in return was LOVE. Pure Divine Love. (The best kind).

I think It is very important to skim your past for any baggage that you might be carrying around still. If it doesn't make your heart feel good, write it down, put it in a box, bury it, burn it, flush it down the toilet, jot it down in your mind's journal and ask your angels to take it to the other side of the Universe and transform it into Love. It'll come back to you, I am willing to guarantee it. You see, I'm learning that life is far far far too precious and wonderful to carry around ANYTHING but goodness and love. If you have past hurts like every one of us do, the Universe is asking me to tell you that it's okay now. You can let go and be so happy and grateful that you did.

The moral of this story is: Let go, Let go, Let go. If it ain't the Truth, just let it go. Shield yourself from any and all negativity of any kind. It is toxic and you don't have time for that ugliness.

Some wise words from the founder (Jean Kirkpatrick) of my recovery program: "The past is gone forever. No longer will I be victimized by my past. I am a new person." And: "Negative thoughts destroy only myself. My first conscious sober act must be to remove ALL negativity from my life."

Can I get a wha, wha?? Holla!

Good love and abundant blessings to you,
Teresa xo

My Declaration of Independence!

2008-07-04T10:19:00.000-07:00

Following Kris Carr's advice (MY GOD, I sound like a stalker when it comes to this woman...)

T's Declaration of Independence List:

1. Addiction (I am told that I will never be truly FREE from my addiction to alcohol, but it is and will remain stagnant for as long as I have a say. I would also love to be free from my addiction to caffeine and other bad foods in general.)

2. FEAR. Not only would I LIKE to be free of its chains, but I MUST be free of them. This is the single most important one the list.

3. Impatience (towards myself, others and LIFE)

4. Harsh, untrue, and unhelpful self-criticism.

5. Self-doubt. I CAN do things and I DO them WELL. I am a competent woman hear me roooooooaarrr with thundah!

6. Too much internet time. I love getting together and sharing wisdom and love via this blog and my other wonderful social networking sites, but too much is too much, ya heard?

7. Any old, nasty, mean and again, UNTRUE belief that I'm still luggin' around with me. That baggage needs to go asap if it is no longer serving me in a helpful and loving way. (ie: "I can't", "I am a failure."..See? How rude!)

8. My jaded disposition when it comes to the opposite sex. One bad apple in my basket will NOT spoil the rest.

9. Being uncomfortable in silence. I am already working and improving on this one a great deal. TV is broken, no one but me and the dogs are home. SILENT. At first it was freaky deaky, but right now it is bliss.

10. Stomach swelling/discomfort :-( Still no diagnosis. Still no health insurance. Still no answers. Just pain. I am so happy and grateful for my perfect health and happiness.

What's on your list?

peace, love and fiery independence,
t xo

Adventures in Raw Heaven!

2008-07-03T17:41:00.000-07:00

You read that RIGHT, friends. I have been interested in raw/vegan/or at least vegetarian food/diet/lifestyle since I came across Kris Carr's Crazy Sexy Cancer Blog. In it she chronicles her day to day life as a vegan living with a rare Stage 4 cancer. She says due to her raw and awesomely alive diet, she feels better than before she was diagnosed. Crazy stuff, huh??

It got me thinking. I am always so damn tired. I have gained weight due to the old lifestyle (wine packs in a LOT of acid among other nasty ailments), so I thought why not give this lil doo-dad a try. I knew I wouldn't hate it because I love all food to pieces, but I had NO idea I would love it so much! I will not even tell you what I had for breakfast at 5am as I was waving my family off (they just left for California today), no sirs and ma'am's. But I will give you a hint: it was not so McHealthy. Moving on...

After waking up feeling like CRUDE thanks to my disgusting but convenient breakfast, I made a vow. NO MORE CRAP FOOD, T! So I marched on over to the grocery store, and here is my first official sidenote: if I had a lovely and abundant farmer's market in town or an organic substitute, I would have went there instead no questions asked. Considering I live in the middle of nowhere Arizona, that's just not a reality for me. BUT when I get my tail to Flagstaff ORGANIC/FARMER'S MARKET HEAVEN! I pick up two heads of yummy and dark leafy greens whose name's escape me right now. They are the ones with the burgundy tips. Yes, those! Yum. Fresh pineapple, red, green, yellow and orange bell peppers (1 of each), english cucumbers (2), my favorite herb on earth - cilantro, lemons, white cheddar cheese (I know this isn't raw, but I am not giving up cheese just yet, no way, no how!), two cans of organic black beans (guess my grocery store imports organics from somewhere which is nice. I will look on the can later to see from where though. If too many fossil fuels were used, I won't buy the same brand next time), one jar of pesto, two carrots, spinach and herb tortillas, and one mini watermelon. Mostly raw, yummy goodness.

After seeing the gorgeous torillas, I decided to have a veggie wrap for lunch. Here is my recipe that you are more than welcome to love, borrow, copy, steal:

T's Mostly Raw Veggie Wrap

- 1 spinach and herb tortilla (any brand will do. Use your fav)
- 2 tablespoons of any kind of pesto ya like
- 2 big handfuls of any leafy lettuce you crave
- 1 small to medium red bell pepper, chopped lengthwise
- handful of cilantro
- 1/3 english cucumber
- 1 slice of white cheddar cheese cut lengthwise (you don't have to be anal about this, folks. You can just throw the cheese on top of the veggies and call it a meal!)
- Fresh black pepper to taste

Chop your veggies. Spread pesto onto tortilla. Add lettuce, veggies, cheese and pepper. Roll up and eat up!

So so so simple and DELICIOUS. I cannot wait to try it with different veggies and different pestos. Also, I would love to know what your favorite pesto recipe is. I have to wait to get a food processor so I can make my own, so until then store bought is fine with me. I'm thinking next time a yummy sun-dried tomato pesto would be fantastic. The pesto in this meal really brings it to another level. This veggie wrap is by FAR the best wrap I've ever had. And I've had all sorts of wraps! When I was living in California and lived near Trader Joe's I would usually have their famous chicken caesar salad wrap and I'm sorry, but mine is the commander in chief! I did not miss the meat one bit.

For a snack I just made a heavenly pineapple smoothie. I had some nectarines in the fridge and by the grace of Goodness, some pineapple juice (although, I don't like that it was Dole. I don't like to support big name and money hungry corporations.)
Anyway, for the nectarines I did not peel them. You can if you'd like. The end result were cute lil flecks of red and orange from the flesh. Now, in regards to cutting up a pineapple. It was MESSY! I used a serrated knife, but had no clue what I was doing! I've seen Rachael Ray do this at least a couple of times and she makes it looks super simple and FAST. Guess that's why she's Rachael Ray cause it took me at least 15 minutes and my hands were sopping with yummy pineapple juice! I washed them, and resisted the urge to lick them, don't worry. The smoothie itself was delicious, however it was a bit too frothy for me so I'm not giving out this recipe. Maybe I added too much ice?

Anyway, here are some pics. And yes, I put the smoothie in a wine glass. I was feelin' saucy, sue me.

I'm excited about this new and TASTY adventure. I have lots more reading and book buying to do. Anything I fall in love with, I will of course share here.

Lots of love and good eats!
T xo

Fear? Who cares.

2008-07-01T00:05:00.000-07:00

I need to bust out of this joint! I need to burst out from behind the 10 foot wall/barrier/concrete NOTHING that fear has spent the last 10 years or so building all around me. I'm sure I helped here and there. Hey man, it got really comfortable! Nothing was expected of me, therefore I never let anyone down. Win-win. So I thought. The I woke my dusty eyes up and realized that it didn't really matter if this was self-imprisonment or not, I was letting ME down. And sorry, but I'm the most important human in my life. Time for a plan.

I wish I had a sledgehammer or a jackhammer or maybe a buff and tan construction dude who plays the guitar on the side to tear this wall down for me. But, I gots nothing like that. What I DO have is something much more powerful and resilient, and that is my fiyah, my passion, my unwavering willingness - aka MY HEART.

My heart leads the way. Always has, always will. Last 5 years I was long gone -- a wandering, sorrowful, LOST traveler. Goodness, was I lost. The road got all twisted and fucked up and at times the scenery was AWESOME, but for the most part I was too busy being fearful to really enjoy the view. Irony. My heart was just as confused.

Today I am nose to nose with this barrier. Mostly by choice. This road is being shut down (again, by choice), and I've been immersed in paving a new one! A new yellow brick road that is paved with HUGE amount of Spirituality, curiosity, LOVE, bravado, lots more traveling, crab cakes and cupcakes and of course, passion. What is a journey without it?

So anyway, there's only one way to get to this golden road and that's to bid adieu to the old one. It sounds NUTTY but a part of me is going to miss it. Let's face it, I'm only human and we humans tend to gravitate towards and yearn for the familiar and comfortable. At the first sign of discomfort our tired little arms reach out frantically for appeasement. (Enter a drinking problem!) Any kind of appeasement will do, just make this shit go away NOW. And i'm sorry but, how...immature.

What's Life without falling down? What's good without bad? What's joyful without dreadful? it's all relative, and I, for one, never wanted a predictable life. I've lived this way for a very, very, VERY (x's infinity) long time. I've lived behind the barrier, this wall, and this jail ain't all it's cracked up to be. Fear is a lousy companion, folks. He's cynical, and judgmental, and a pansy and I'm sorry but, his best friend and tag along Alcoholism REEKS!

My friends the time has come for a new journey. (and also the real point of this post - hardy har har.) I am moving out of my mom's house and building my life in Flagstaff. Here's what I need to do: I have to renew my license (two years expired -- oh, lovely and familiar irresponsibility GOOD RIDDANCE!), I have to sell my car in order to acquire funds to move and a room to rent, I have to buy a used and cheap car that still runs good (boy, I hope I'm not asking too much for that!), I have to find a job (oh yeah, THAT thing again. Can't wait!), and I have to pack up my life yet again and move two hours east. All by the end of this month. Man talk about scary! (and OH, if you are thinking that I am being irrational or that I'm crazy for thinking I can actually pull this off, promptly slap yourself - hard - on the wrist from me to you. Moving on...)
In spite of this curve ball, this is my new road map: Something radical happened when I started believing in myself recently. My mind actually fell for it! It was as if my heart gave my mind a much needed nap and said, "Until you are ready, I will do this for you. Just lie down here for a bit, you've been through a lot. I got this." My heart gave my mind the biggest bear hug and my mind let out a long sigh and fell quiet while my heart healed everything else. it was crazy! But efficient. Competence -- that thing that I wasn't so sure about just a month ago is simply a big part of my Truth today. I can do things and I can do things well. And when I have to, I do them extremely well! My mind thanks my heart every chance it gets. They are tag teamin' it these days. It's so awesome.

The biggest thing I've learned is that the unknown is only the unknown for the first few miles. After a little while we see things, we FEEL things, we KNOW things we knew would show up all along because we listened to, and trusted IN what our hearts were telling us. We live here now. It's as if we had been here all along.

Now I realize that not everyone lives their life this way. When faced with a fork in the road, some people choose the most traveled, the most logical, the one furthest from the cliffs, the one with the most rest stops. I get it. I admire those beings who live this way only because I don't think I ever will. I learn much from them, and I can only hope that I am able to teach them a few things as well. There is a balance that I respect a great deal, but ultimately, my heart is my compass.

The scariest part is bursting through the wall. (But thankfully that part doesn't last long at all.) My spirituality, my unconditional LOVE, my growth, my recovery, my wonder, my FIRE is my armor. And the wings on my heart will propel me to the other side.

Forward march, beautiful travelers of Life, forward march.

Love, peace, and all the fearlessness your hearts can muster!
Teresa xo

Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box

2008-06-22T23:50:00.001-07:00

In this moment my mind is content, but it is still peppered with tiny flecks of worry and fear. As always. I will not stay stuck, no, no. Far too much growth has occurred in four short days since I've started this spirituality quest. My "Heal My Mind, Heal My Life" journey. (I should get that copyrighted.)

I am new. But not. I am still in this body that I do not love 100%, but I am not of this body. This body cannot contain all that I am. Family is home and it just feels good. I feel like this growth is my armor of sorts. No matter what happens on the outside, I am impenetrable. Because I've grown.
I am almost skeptical. My god, it's only been four days. Four days of soul digging and raw honesty. What can you learn about yourself in four days? I've had more than four moments in four days, and that's how I live my life. In thousands of moments I have learned an immense amount about myself and this world. I've listened and what I've heard is my own voice (but not?) comforting, guiding and loving me. In times of need I've reached out to myself and accepted the offer. This is new also.

I celebrated two months sober on the 19th of this month. WOO! The Universe gave me Wayne Dyer as my gift. I've truly never heard of him! He is magnificent! I want to read all his 32 books. Especially his "Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life" book. (Nope, I had no clue about this book when the title of this quest came to my mind.) Also, I ate some pomegranate ice cream with dark chocolate chips. Bliss.

In the upcoming days I will share tid-bits from journal posts about the things I learned this past week. Who's excited?? Raise your hand. I am.

It is four minutes past midnight - Monday morning! Ought to get some shut eye...

Love and yellow submarines to you all,
Teresa

Currently listening to - "Happiness is a Warm Gun" by The Beatles

Everything's Gonna Be Alright

2008-06-17T10:32:00.001-07:00

Last night I realized that I was allowing other people to dictate how and what I was feeling. With far too much consistency.
I was talking to someone for the first time last night. Let's just call him "The Boy". The Boy wasn't being chatty. In fact, he seemed kind of bored. The Boy said he was just distracted, but I told myself, "Teresa, you MUST be incapable of holding The Boy's (or any boy's) interest."
This woman I know suggested to me last night that I just 'follow mom around and get free rent". I told myself, "Teresa, you MUST give off incompetent and dependent vibes". And when another friend suggested to me that that the idea might not be so bad after all, well, it blew my mind. I told myself, "Teresa, you MUST be nothing more than a silly idealistic dreamer to think you deserve a life to call your own."

Giving away my power is completely what the old Teresa did. And very, very well I might add. Looking for approval from outside sources has just always been a coping mechanism for me. If for whatever reason I was feeling blue, I'd look -- no, I'd HUNT for ways to get other people to tell me that I was going to be okay. In truth, if someone just told me I was going to be 'okay', it wouldn't suffice. I'd need them to tell me I was the most fascinating, interesting, beautiful, UNneedy person they'd ever met. Oh, the irony. I'd search for approval and 'confirmation' that I wasn't unlovable like a man with his head on fire searches for water. In short, it exhausted everyone. Myself included. That kind of attachment and blatant neediness (I loathe this word.) is undesirable and downright unattractive. How ironic then, that my only way of coping with feeling unlovable was to make it extremely difficult for anyone to prove me wrong. So maybe I wasn't so good at that after all.

Around midnight last night, I got out my journal and made a list. I titled it "What Do I Really, Really, Really Want?" (I felt it was important to emphasize the 'really'.) Nothing on the list surprised me. I wrote things ranging from a photography job, a paycheck, to staying in Arizona, and randomly, "Crab cakes made with crab that was swimming in the ocean just hours prior to being cooked." What can I say, when you move to the desert after having lived by the ocean all your life, you just don't take fresh seafood for granted anymore. I'm getting off topic here, but my point is that the simple task of asking MYSELF what I wanted stopped me from feeling completely out of control. I got to a scary point last night where I felt like I was strapped tight in a speeding car with the sometimes unfair and uncertain world as my invisible driver.

I am responsible for MYSELF, and that very much includes my internal self. I am in charge of what is going on in my brain. My thoughts and my feelings are very much my own responsibility. And in truth what I've found is that no one can make me feel as good about being Teresa, as I can. No one can confirm anything for me about who I am, about what I want, about what I'm doing, about where I'm going. Only I have those answers. And even when it FEELS like I don't, I still do. I've just forgotten them. I've also started asking myself what it is that I am looking for in someone else. And then I've started giving myself just that. In The Boy it was affection, but also praise and compliments. Again, confirmation. What girl doesn't want that at least in some form from a dude? There is nothing wrong with seeking that in someone else, but it becomes a problem for me when his praise substituted my own.

Today, I will remember that I am the driver of this car. I will allow the amazing and supportive people in my life to help guide me in case I get lost again, but I will trust my own heart first and foremost. Always. Life just feels more secure that way.

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Whose Turn Is It?

2008-06-13T19:55:00.001-07:00

Looking for something I've never seen
Alone and I'm in between
The place that I'm from and the place that I'm in
A city I never been

I found a friend or should I say a foe
Said there's a few things you should know
We don't want you to see we come and we go
Here today, gone tomorrow

We're only taking turns
Holding this world
It's how it's always been
When you're older you will understand

If I say who I know it just goes to show
You need me less than I need you
But take it from me we don't give sympathy
You can trust me trust nobody

But I said you and me we don't have honesty
The things we don't want to speak
I'll try to get out but I never will
This traffic is perfectly still

We're only taking turns
Holding this world
It's how it's always been
When you're older you will understand

And then again maybe you don't
And then again maybe you won't

We're only taking turns
Holding this world
It's how it's always been
When you're older you will understand

When you're older you might understand
When you're older you might understand

Listening to: "How To Save A Life" by The Fray

Blogged with the Flock Browser

And to prove my point even further...

2008-06-11T12:21:00.001-07:00

Amazing.

*To find out more about Kriss and her courageous life, please visit crazysexycancer.com*

Daredevil In Training

2008-06-11T11:18:00.000-07:00

"Too many people are thinking of security instead of opportunity. They seem to be more afraid of life than death" --James F. Bymes

Forgive me, because I am in a rather philosophical mood right now, and I wanted to share a bit. I've been thinking a lot about fears lately. I've unearthed some old ones just this week, and it's, well, SCARY. I think there is a fine line that I've never walked before. And that is to allow myself to be fearful of things (after all, I'm only human) but to not let them keep me from living. This sounds like a no-brainer, right? I guess it is. I have been terrified my whole life. Of so many things that in this moment don't really make a lot of sense. For example, I'm scared of the unknown. If I can't predict it, I get antsy. Common sense and some real growth during these 50+ days of sobriety have helped me to accept that I am not the queen of the universe. I do not control the world. So that fear is irrational.
I've noticed actually that a lot of my fears are hugely irrational. I've done some recovery work this week that has helped me to name the fear, and then learn if it is indeed rational or irrational. My findings have taught me that I don't have one rational fear. Everything I've been afraid of, I needn't be. It's a huge, huge lesson for me, but I also feel so silly. Like, how dare I let these fears keep me from participating in life! I'm alive last time I checked. I don't really have a right to sit back and watch life go by just because I'm afraid of what's around the corner.
This self-discovery and journey has taught me that really, there is nothing to fear but fear itself. That old saying is so true. I guess I just need to keep myself in check now. It's perfectly healthy and normal to be deathly afraid of jumping out of planes. But I need to start trusting that my parachute will open when I'm ready for it to. That's called having faith; believing; trusting. They all work perfectly together. I really am aiming now to start walking that healthy line of being fearful of nothing --and everything at the same time.
This is a new and big chapter in my recovery, and it's so cool that I see and feel actual growth this time around. I relapsed twice before this time, because I was just too afraid. I've reached a point in my life and recovery where I feel strong enough to do the scary things in life now WITHOUT the aid of alcohol.

Also, I'm really grateful that I have places like this blog where I can share thoughts like these with beautiful people like yourselves. So, thanks :)

xoxo
Teresa

I am drunk off loneliness

2008-06-05T22:12:00.001-07:00

I understand why loneliness makes some of us drink again. Perfectly. 100%. Profoundly. I understand. It's kind of a sick feeling isn't it? Knowing that at this moment in time, there are probably a million different people on this earth who are lonely. Here we all are being lonely, suffering from loneliness...together. And yet, where are all the lonely people? Why don't we unite, dammit? Loneliness Anonymous So We Don't Have To Be Anonymous Anymore! Headquarters can be located in Arizona...

I've just been doomed by classifying myself as one of the lonely. I realize that. Even the promise of a job doesn't offer me much comfort. What if all my co-workers turn out to be seniors? The chances of that are really fucking good. By choosing to stay in Arizona while my family moves back home to California, I am also choosing possible loneliness. For at least a year. I mean, there could be prospects that might relieve the pangs, but 'could' isn't a guarantee. I want a promise that by choosing Arizona, I am choosing the better life for myself.
Unfortunately even a promise is no guarantee.

♥

Faith is knowledge?

2008-05-31T23:30:00.001-07:00

I'm curious about faith. I've just had probably the 'worst' week I've had in a long time, and while I've survived (thus far, ha), I haven't been very happy. Is that normal? Honestly, I wouldn't know. I was never taught those kinds of survival skills as a child. At the ripe age of 23 I'm having to be my very own parent and teach myself the stuff my parents weren't even aware of. It's really strange.
Anyway, I'm not really a religious person. Which is actually kind of an ironic thing to say, because well, I pray every single night. In fact, I've prayed every single night since I was about 11 years old. I do it because I feel safer when I do. I do it because I like having something to ground me; something to "check-in" with every night. Is that faith? Feeling afraid of what might happen if I don't pray? Something tells me that what I've been practicing isn't really faith, but more of a habit. And that makes me sad.
Is faith something that can be taught? Something that I can learn? Is it something that I need to read a book about? I honestly have no idea. I don't think faith is hoping that I grow wings as I'm jumping off a building (which considering my week, I was seriously contemplating in my sick, and not so serious way). I digress. Is faith something that we are just born with? Am I doomed to a life of never knowing this 'thing' that seems to be so crystal clear for other people?
How do I know if I have faith? I would like some faith. And all jokes aside, life seems like the perfect kind of thing that we would need faith for.
I feel like maybe faith is something different for everyone. For the Baptist, it's praying hard to a God while staring a hole into their ceiling. For a Buddhist, it's meditating on mindfulness while trusting that eventually, she too will learn how to tame her monkey mind. For an Atheist, it's probably relying on himself to find all the answers to his problems first and foremost.
And of course there is the silly idea that I could be blatantly WRONG about all of this. What if I already have faith and I just don't know it? Somehow, that just does not seem possible at all. I think faith is something that cannot be ignored if you have it. In other words: if you had it, you would know it.
I want to develop a relationship with faith. I want to study it, and I want to write about it, but most of all I want to experience it. I want to be able to say, "I really thought I wouldn't make it, but somehow, all along I just *knew* that I would. And wouldn't you know it, soon things started to look up again."
I'm no expert here, but I think what this week has taught me is that you would never have to climb the dozens of floors of stairs to get to the top of that building that you wanted to jump off of if you had faith. Faith would lead you the other way. Faith would bring you back down to the sidewalk where the view isn't all that great. But given the right push, as long as you had faith in your back pocket, you trust that you will always make it to the other side.
Yes. I think faith is synonymous with trust, and I have to confess...I've always been curious about trust.

Please repeat after me...

2008-05-29T13:13:00.000-07:00

"Teresa WILL have a job by this time next week."

I know you are all reeeeeeally tired of hearing me talk about this, but it's really gettin' down to the wire here. And I need a job yesterday.

I just got back from applying at a staffing agency. So cross your fingers, visualize, pray, whatevah it is you do to make magic/good things happen. I URGE you to please send some of that goodness my way.

My mom just gave me the, "I need you to start thinking about moving back to California if you don't find a job asap." speech, and...I'd really love some stability in my life. I don't want to put myself through another move so soon, I'd really love to stay in Arizona, grow up, etc. The time is now. I am ready! So so so so ready.

So, please. I have a feeling that if we all start thinking that by this time next week, I'll be an employed woman it will really happen! Power of Suggestion? Is that what it's called? Anyway. Thank you, kind souls.

Teresa will have a job by this time next week, Teresa will have a job by this time next week, Teresa will have a job by this time next week...you're getting very sleepy...

<3

Middle finger to the world!!!

2008-05-27T18:56:00.001-07:00

i hate today i hate today i hate today i hate today. what have i learned today? that a drink won't take this pain away. i'm sober, but really pissed and sad and frustrated and i want to punch a goddamn hole in the wall. but...i'm sober. and being drunk and then hungover right now would really suck the life right out of me. and with as bad as i feel right now, i know i could feel worse. gratitude, i suppose, is this day's kryptonite.

<3

Listening to: "run in the front" by dear and the headlights.

ps - you know i'm out of it, because i haven't even bothered to capitalize a damn thing on this post! i don't caaaaaaaaaare today.

Vegas

2008-05-26T13:00:00.000-07:00

I went to Vegas yesterday, and when I was eating lunch with my family...the $20 salmon with pineapple salsa and the ice cold iced tea...I was in HEAVEN.
When we walked into the Excalibur and walked onto the smoky casino floor, I was perfectly fine then too.
It wasn't until my sister and her boyfriend decided to order drinks, that I felt that familiar burn of resentment come up. Just slightly...I knew I wouldn't let it ruin my entire day, but it was there. I had to deal with it.
My sister ordered this drink that comes in a yard-long cup. $18. Her boyfriend ordered a Corona - my nemesis. As I was standing by the slot machines waiting for them to order their drinks, I looked around at all the people. Nearly everyone had a drink in their hands. I heard the clanking of coins being dropped into a plastic bucket from the slot machines. Hundreds and hundreds of coins dropping at any given point. People laughing and talking and hollering and, and, and...the sheer raucous. The flashing lights for 99 cent margaritas...the drink girls walking around in shorts I wouldn't be caught dead in....in a nutshell, Vegas for me yesterday was surreal, and overwhelming.

I knew that I had a few options here. I would either 1.) end up sneaking off from my party to order a drink in isolation. And then going back for another and another and..until drunk. That's how I drink. OR, 2.) I would end up wasting the entire day being resentful and angry and sad and with feelings of self-pity just spewing out from my inner being. Being mean and nasty to my family and anyone who dared to look my way.

There was also a third choice, the one that I picked. I chose instead to be an ultimate 4C woman and 'think the drink through'.
I thought those first two choices through right to the bitter end. The bitter end being me in a bathroom, hugging a toilet, hating myself once again, with the deliriousness of Vegas as my background music. About two minutes after that thought, I ordered a sparkling water with a splash of raspberry syrup. And was very, very happy.

I watched patiently while my family bet money in the slot machines (I'm not a gambler), and joked around with my hilarious sister who drank about half of her yard-long drink and then handed it over to her boyfriend. She is, thankfully, a normal drinker :)

So Vegas isn't really for me, I've decided. I love the lights and the palm trees and the DELICIOUS food...but it's just no longer my idea of fun. The last time I was in Vegas was two years ago. I went with my girlfriends, and...I don't really remember much of anything.

The program booklet says: " In time, the actions that the use of these Statements provide will soon become automatic and your life will change." I think maybe, possibly...that time has come for me. I didn't have a blast yesterday, but I didn't let that ruin an entire day of my time on this planet. I mean, what a waste!

On the way home, a man was pulled over an arrested right on the strip; right in front of the Monte Carlo. There were three police cars and an ambulance. He had handcuffs on, and sitting on the trunk of his fancy black BMW was a half full bottle of beer, and a brown paper bag, probably filled with more booze. I have no idea if he hit anyone, or what happened...but I thanked the Universe silently right then and there for that confirmation.

Quitting drinking was the best decision I ever made. Ever ever ever eveerrrrr. And it can even be made in Vegas.

Happy Memorial Day!
teresa :)

Girls. They just wanna have fun.

2008-05-24T00:47:00.000-07:00

Hello~

It's Friday night in the desert, and I am listening to a cool/strange playlist of Chet Baker and Greg Laswell. Both melancholy, both beautiful. Both are making me very nostalgic and very sad. It's funny how music has a special way of taking us back. Of reminding us of certain times, places, people, events. Memories.
I am so comfortable in this overwhelming melancholy. Even on days like today, when perfection is not far out of reach. The food was homemade and delicious, the company was jovial and familiar, and the drinks were sweet and non-hangover producing. Music places memories into my brainwaves and my emotions overflow accordingly.
I remember times on a crisp LA night listening to live music in a smoky room. Shoulder to shoulder strangers would stand listening to an unknown, a relatively known, or a ridiculously famous musician bare their soul onstage. It's a beautifully awkward thing to witness. On those nights I knew I was creating memories. Special pockets of time in my mind to be recalled at a later date. That's what they were to me...utterly special.
Tonight I am immersed in memory. And not all of it is heartwarming. There's a part of me that misses two years ago, and there's a part of me that doesn't ever want to go back to them. Not to the person that I was, and not to the life I was living the way I was living it.

The good thing about the past is that it is gone forever. The nice thing about music is that, unlike life, there is a pause button.

<3

Listening to: "Through Toledo" by Greg Laswell

There's a part of me that's always true

2008-05-23T13:46:00.000-07:00

She wrote the first line: "I'm not lost, I'm just wandering". She looked down at the splatter of black ink and realized she was already crying. She was always good at putting feelings into words, but right now she just wanted to tear up that paper and burn it. It's stopped working, she thought. Her preconceived inadequacy unearthed itself. She only thought she had buried it far enough down. the thing that scared her the most was that maybe she was just fooling herself. Maybe she was lost afterall. Maybe she really had nowhere to call home. Maybe she lost that long ago somewhere along her way on the beaten and, often times torturous path of self-discovery. She wasn't sure. The uncertainty frightened her.

She found comfort in of all places, the little things. The warm soap on her cold hands while doing the dishes. The orange and blue sky at dusk. The chocolate eyes of her puppy. The golden voice of a long gone blues singer on a crisp desert night.
Those things, while blissful, only filled in the spaces between what she was doing, and what she wanted to be doing. It stretched further down the line than she cared to look at. She has to stop herself from looking for too long at her future. She loses herself too easily in what might be. She forgets all too often to offer parts of herself to the Now. When time actually means something.

She stopped crying and looked at the sky. there were clouds and she thought she saw on airplane. Very average, normal things to witness. But the majesty of the beautiful gift of Nature was not lost on her. She knew she wouldn't always know the answers, and she might never know if she was really lost, or just a wanderer, but there would be moments in time when all she would have to do was look upward and remember she is still here. Here in this space that her life created. Just waiting to be recognized. In recognizing the most mundane, she brought life to the most extraordinary.

She picked up the pen, studied her thoughts, choose accurate words and wrote: "Sometimes to get back on track, I have to put down the map."

Listening to: "Almost Blue" by Chet Baker

do you remember the good times? 'cause i remember the good times...

2008-05-21T19:46:00.000-07:00

hello beautys~

i'm in a really odd mood right now...i've been catching up on old friend's lives pretty much all day today, and i'm feeling pangs of envy and nostalgia. truth is i miss LA more than ever lately. catching up with those friends reminds me of those days. i don't miss the struggle and the angst and the hiding my drinking...but i do miss the jovial nights out listening to music in a smokey room...the glasses clanking, the voices lingering, the music always perfect. i'm romanticizing the drink, i'm fully aware of that.
the really screwed up thing is that i am so envious of these people's lives. the drinking aside, i just feel like they've 'got it'. they 'get it'. they were born with it. i struggle to hold onto 'it'. i still don't even know if i really have it. what is 'it' anyway? i don't know. that spark, that gleam in their eye, that ease..that comfortable confidence. the cynic that i thought had moved out recently tells me that it's just impossible for me to attain that without a glass of something alcoholic in my manicured hand.
i miss the good parts about those days. i had some good days back then. i know what i SHOULD be thinking about, and i know what i SHOULD be telling myself about 'those days', but...i just can't seem to feel it on the dimension that i'm remembering everything.
then i also have pangs of resentment because there were also betrayals during those times. a lot of those people actually want very little to do with me. so why do i even give a rat's behind about what they're doing in their charmed lives? why do i care?? i've lost some of those friends...because of my drinking and my just plain and simple lack of compassion. back in 'those days'. i really meant well. i mean, truly. but, i just didn't know how to nurture much of anything.
i do feel like a new person. in fact i'm pretty sure that the new me is emerging. i know drinking would shove her back down into the earth. i've spent a lot of time digging her up and resurrecting her. i don't want to have to do that all over again. i know what's going on is that i'm just plain jealous. i'm thinking about when i used to live in THE hippest city on earth...with THE 'coolest' people on earth...and i'm here...in my room. on a quiet, dusty, deserted street in a town no one's heard of.

it's been two years since that life, and i just wish i would let go already.

<3

I could never have imagined I would land just where you are after all this lonesome traveling

2008-05-19T16:57:00.000-07:00

Someday I will live in a home so close to the ocean, the waves will be my one and only alarm clock. There will be a couple of dogs, and a couple of cats. Loads of photographs taken at various points of my life tucked into antique frames, a library stacked with enough books to lose yourself in for a good week or two, art hanging from every corner on every one of the vibrant turquoise-colored walls, a kitchen full of aromatic homemade italian food, berry pies and maybe even chocolate cakes cooling off on a window sill patiently waiting to be devoured, little kids chasing one another around with the water hose and pushing each other on a swing hanging from a branch on a tree in the backyard, a garden full of watermelon and cucumbers and peonies, a kitchen table big enough to fit everyone I've ever loved, The Beatles blaring on vinyl and/or someone sitting at the piano playing their best rendition of Prince, belly laughs coupled with beautiful, jovial, familiar voices floating into every crevice in every room, and glasses clanking with enough sweet iced tea to swim in.

<3

Listening to: "One and Only" by Teitur

Growing where I'm planted ~ 30 days

2008-05-18T12:01:00.000-07:00

I used to think that the answer to any of my problems resided in ‘some place else’. Hate myself? Let’s move to Los Angeles! Where I ended up drinking my life away, hating myself even more, and crying out “This town doesn’t work either!” I’ve come to learn (the hard way) that wherever I go, I take myself with me. Now, I’m planted here in a wee town in a dry state with what seems like no jobs, but bountiful desert sunsets, so…I forgive the economy.
Getting sober this time has meant digging deeper. It’s meant staring the fears I felt towards myself right in the eye and not running away this time. It’s meant harvesting Love and Acceptance into every crevice of my being in order to first create and then sustain the New Life. The 13 Statements are the seeds that I plant in my soil every day. So…

Seed #1: I have a life-threatening problem that once had me.
Without this seed, my garden will never even have the chance to grow. When I plant this seed it produces Life.

Seed #2: Negative thoughts destroy only myself.
This seed helps me to weed out the nasty bugs that like to eat away at any promise of an abundant crop. (HA!) When I plant this seed it produces Space for positivity to grow.

Seed #3: Happiness is a habit I will develop.
With this seed, I learn to trust that the sun is always out even when it’s hiding behind clouds. I learn that happiness is not only my right as a human being, but a choice. When I plant this seed it produces a Grateful heart that never forgets to smile.

Seed #4: Problems bother me only to the degree I permit them to.
This seed helps me to understand that nothing is unmanageable so long as I don’t pick up a drink. When I plant this seed it produces Competence and Capability within myself.

Seed #5: I am what I think.
With this seed I learn that I can be anything I want to be. It teaches me that every thought becomes a feeling, and from that feeling springs an appropriate action. When I plant this seed it produces the Possibility in becoming anything I want to be, but especially that which I never thought I could.

Seed #6: Life can be ordinary or it can be great.
This seeds teaches me that I can live within the barriers created by a fence, or I can grow over trees and walls (among other things), and have a better quality of life. When I plant this seed it produces Grandiosity, but also a healthy appreciation for normalcy.

Seed #7: Love can change the course of my world.
With this seed, I harvest the power of fondness and self-love. When I plant this seed it produces the Opportunity for a lifetime of unconditional love.

Seed #8: The fundamental object of life is emotional and spiritual growth.
This seed teaches me that emotional growth is my chance to change things as needed. It also teaches me that spiritually, I am both a tiny fleck and a vital part in the grand scheme of things. When I plant this seed it produces a Greater Dimension of living.

Seed #9: The past is gone forever.
With this seed, I am given a second chance. When I plant this seed it produces Reinvention of the most impressive kind. If I do say so myself!

Seed #10: All love given returns.
This seed helps me to understand and then accept that I am loved and loveable. And that I am capable of giving love to other people. When I plant this seed it produces Assurance that the heart of life is good.

Seed #11: Enthusiasm is my daily exercise.
With this seed I am given permission to say goodbye to the cynical girl that has always lived in me, and embrace and love the hopeful woman that is emerging. When I plant this seed it produces Vivacity.

Seed #12: I am a competent woman and have much to give others.
This seed puts to rest any doubts I had about myself and my ability to contribute to the world. When I plant this seed it produces Trust in the woman I am becoming.

Seed #13: I am responsible for myself and my actions.
This seed teaches me that there is nothing residing in an outside source that I cannot find somewhere within myself. When I plant this seed it produces the all-important Accountability.

I never wanted to be only part of what is me. So while I accept my role as a young woman in recovery, I do not define myself by this. 30 days signifies the beginning, and holy sweet crop do I love what I’ve unearthed! There is still so much work to do! And that no longer overwhelms me. It excites me. And that’s how I know that I’m doing the most important thing in recovery right– growing.

<3

Listening to: Nothing but a quiet hum that sings only in the desert.

If we're all alone, then we're all together in that, too.

2008-05-17T12:26:00.000-07:00

There is something really spectacular and revitalizing is letting go of our past. Bidding adieu to our old ways and beliefs and making room for something new. I would say it's a fine art, but really it's just a matter of removing what no longer serves a purpose. Maybe that is an art after all.
I don't believe in not honoring your past before you let go of it. I think whatever we've gone through - good, bad, indifferent - deserves our attention at least one last time before we let go. Every thing happens, and then one day, it's no longer our reality. It's just a memory; a thought; something we no longer need. But really, what it becomes is the bridge to where we are now. And that's all we ever have - the now. I suppose we can cross back over that bridge as we choose, but if you're like me, you'd rather keep going. You look back once more, just to remember what it feels like to have survived it all, and then just keep going. After all, there's a whole world out there to uncover. We are scared, intimidated, doubtful, but curious. With the simple act of choosing to keep going, we prove the resilience of our spirit and unmask the bravery in our hearts.
We learn, not surprisingly, that the end to a chapter is also the beginning.

<3 ~end of day 28/beginning of day 29 - how appropriate ;-)

Listening to: "P.S. I Love You", by Nellie McKay