Caterpillar Goop May 13, 2008

I’m reading a new book (yes, as a work in progress I caved and bought yet another self-help book).  It’s by Martha Beck, an author I have come to identify with.  I didn’t even read the cover before purchasing.  I just knew that if she wrote it, I wanted to read it.  It could have been a cookbook for all I knew.  (I hope to have a similar following one day…oh, pardon me, while I ”manifest”…..)

In the introduction to the book, Martha talks about the proverbial metamorphosis one makes as they find their true path in life.  I was struck by her reminder about the caterpillar’s fate after spinning its cocoon. The caterpillar doesn’t simply sprout wings…The first thing that happens is a complete and total caterpillar meltdown.  The caterpillar literally dissolves (ick).  For the record, I, too, am dissolving.   And it ain’t pretty. 

The good news is, according to Martha Beck, I’m right on schedule for a complete metamorphosis. Woo Hoo!  The bad news is that no caterpillar that  enters a cocoon ever makes it out alive.  Joseph Campbell said, “You must give up on the life you had planned in order to have the life that is waiting for you.” 

Ouch.  My fingernails are clinging to the edges of the old and my arms are getting tired.  Pretty soon it’ll be easier to fall into the scary unknown than to hang on, fingernails ripping.  (How completely melodramatic, no?)  Like my mom recently reminded me…”the horse is dead, dear….it’s time to get off.”

So, pardon my goop, folks.  It’s just that I’m right in the middle of becoming magnificent. 

And we’ll all just have to be patient, for these things happen in their own time…..

Random Acts of Blindness May 13, 2008

We’ve all committed them…those random acts of blindness.  We make assumptions about others, or cast judgements without considering or looking close enough to see what lies beneath.  The crabby waitress who, unbeknownst to us, lost her sister a week ago….or the bossy co-worker who suffers from such low self-esteem that she drives us all crazy in her attempts to prove herself to (mostly) herself. 

Don’t get me wrong, I am well aware that plain old jerks exist, but I guess I believe for the most part that people are the best they know how to be.  I don’t suggest we need to hang around people who hurt us or abuse us, or in some way make our lives more difficult than necessary, but perhaps we need to remember that most people’s behavior towards us really has less to do with us than it does with them. 

I attended a humor seminar several years back where the speaker suggested ways to counter the upset dealing with “jerks” can bring.  She suggested we make up a story about the person (not to be shared with them of course…)  For example, a guy cuts you off in traffic as he races down the highway.  The story?  “Poor guy, if he’s not home by 5:25PM on the dot, his wife beats the crap out of him.”  (Poor guy is right….go, buddy!  You can make it!)  I have found it fun to make up little stories about miserable people who cross my path…..like the guy who was attempting to make the Guinness Book of World’s Records for the most stupid, insensitive remarks made in a 24-hour period.  I wished him well…wonder if he beat the record…..

When making fun of it doesn’t work, I think we just need to remember that not everything is personal.  I know that my life would be easier if I could remember that not everything is about me (GASP!).  Perhaps a little more compassion is the order of the day.  Perhaps looking at  (considering) what might lie beneath would benefit us all. 

Johnny One Note May 8, 2008

I just returned from the Holy Cross High School Pops Concert.  It was quite impressive indeed.  The musical director is a very talented man who is dedicated to these young (and surprisingly talented) musicians and singers.  The concert was unexpectedly enjoyable, albeit almost 3 hours in length. 

My son is not in the choir (though he has a nice voice) and not in the band (though he plays a mean guitar).  My son (only because he is in the music theory class) is in the hand bell choir.   This evening the hand bell choir played “Hedwig’s Theme” from Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.  My son had ONE NOTE. 

Yep, 3 hours for ONE NOTE.   It was a good one, I assure you.  The bass bell that ended the song.  But ONE NOTE?   THREE HOURS?   As the song began, I sat alone in the audience and began to giggle.  The music of the hand bells  was magical.  I couldn’t believe how amazing a sound…..but as I stared only at my son’s bell for the entire song, I had tears running down my face.  I must have looked like a lunatic laughing uncontrollably by myself in that chair, afraid to blink or look away for fear my three hour wait would have been for naught.

The things we do for love, eh?  I love him to death and would sit for four hours for that one note, but it was pretty funny.  I was incredibly proud nonetheless, and personally feel that it was the best number of the night.  Of course, without that one note, the song would be incomplete.

The moral of the story?  If you only get to play one note….play it loud and clear.

Make a Wish May 7, 2008

So Tinkerbell I’m not……But really…..what’s so scary about an overweight, martini-drinking, fake cigarette smoking fairy with a hint of a moustache? 

Meet my alter-ego Splenda the Fairy.  She has a little too much attitude and just enough heart.  Completely harmless and available for birthdays and bar mitzvahs. 

It’s so much easier to make a fool of yourself when in costume. 

Funny though, how many people won’t  make a wish when one is offered……

 

If I Was a Car… May 6, 2008

As my friend and I walked through the parking lot and back to our cars, we surveyed the area in search of his perfect “new car”.  Apparently he is in the market for a new vehicle, and as we walked, we looked to identify what type of car was the perfect fit for him.

It’s clear that generally our dog breeds and our cars match our personalities.  He will be trading in a Volkswagen Jetta in search of his new “identity”.  We ruled out the Cadillacs and the other more “formal” and “reserved” sedans.  He is funny and non-conforming, yet was offended when I suggested the Volkswagen Beetle (sorry…..I didn’t realize it was a chick car).  I voted for a brand new Jetta, since I think that really is the best fit.

If I were a car, I would want to be elegant, but not snotty.  I would want to be fun, with a good, solid reputation.  One thing I know about myself is that I am definitely NOT a convertible…..  I like to think of myself as a Jaguar (not the new ones, but the ones from the 1980’s) or perhaps a BMW 2002 (not the year, but the model #).  But the truth is…most days I’m a gas truck.   My son said I was more like a fire truck…big and loud, forcing people to get out of my way when I was coming through.  (He’s been reduced to scrap metal and won’t be worrying about what type of car he is for some time….)

I presently drive a used Hershey-chocolate-bar-colored Murano with Ragu-spaghetti-sauce colored interior, that runs like a lemon.  What do you think that  says about me?

 

It’s a New Day (isn’t it always?) May 4, 2008

In case any of you noticed that I was MIA for the past week, I apologize.   Last week began with the tragic death of a young friend.  I tried writing, but everything felt so irrelevant and superficial.  Gratefully, the week ended in a much different way, with a celebration of marriage.  I was honored to preside over the ceremony of two young family friends.  It was a week full of emotions and reminders about the fragileness of life and how love brings people together in the worst and the best of times.

As this week begins so does my new chance at life, so to speak.  For today is my birthday.  I found my old  journals and realized that on each of the past 6 birthdays I have written a “birthday letter” to myself.  The letter is generally the same…..a pep talk to myself, suggesting forgiveness for whatever I viewed as my faults in the year prior, and encouragement to Carpe Diem (yet again).  Re-reading the letters, I was touched by my (temporary) compassion for myself, and saddened to see the same words written year after year, the need to hear them remaining the same. 

There will be no birthday letter to me from me this year.  If the events of last week alone do not convince met that the time is now…..shame on me.

Time to blow out my candles……….

Staring Down the Drain April 25, 2008

They’re still out there and they are growing in numbers.  A hudde of flourescent orange and green, they appear to be masterminding some diabolical plan….though they say they’re here to fix the run-off drain in the street directly in front of my house.  The town workers began gathering outside my home at approximately 6:45am this morning.  I knew they were coming, as in the recent past their co-workers had stopped by to invetsigate and spray paint the street with arrows and letters and informed me of the plan to repair the leaking drain.

Now I haven’t obeserved their every move, but I have noticed them quite a bit this morning as they are directly out my front window and dressed in blinding colors.  It’s as if I can look out the window at any time and see a “still-life” (with perhaps a few additional workers or pieces of heavy equipment in the background). The picture remains the same. Everyone is huddled around the “problem” talking.  I’m not trying to offend public works officials, but it struck me that I have something in common with these guys (I know they exist, but there weren’t any females in the mix outside in orange today).

Standing around talking about the problem.  That’s what they are doing and that’s what I am always doing.  I’ve spent the last 1/2 decade staring into my “leaking drain” talking about my problems and never making the necessary “repairs”.  Likewise, I have yet to see anyone lift a shovel or start up the earthmovers outside my front window.  As a matter of fact, as I look up now….THEY ARE GONE! 

Perhaps they worked quietly?  Maybe it was lunchtime?  I can’t be sure what they are doing or why they aren’t doing something else, but I know what I am doing……standing around….staring down the drain. 

Time to fix it before I’m washed down it.

Laughing Myself to Death April 23, 2008

I laughed myself into an asthma attack today and I never felt better.  After a conversation with a friend yesterday, I re-upped my commitment to laughing more.  I’ve been saying it for years now….laughter is powerful medicine.  I have attended seminars on the value of laughter as a healing tool (mentally, physically and spiritually), yet have failed to walk my talk.  (see http://lifeonhysterialane.wordpress.com/2008/02/04/ho-ho-ha-ha-ha/ )

Today I changed all that.

To prove to my friend that I was indeed committed to making the change, I called to leave a laughing message on his cell phone.  In order for it to be authentic, I felt it necessary to begin laughing prior to dialing.  So…as I drove down the road on this beautiful sunny day, I made myself laugh.  I must have looked like a lunatic.  Of course I started the process just as I approached a red light.  Making quite the spectacle of myself, but too far into the process to stop (or care at that point), I am sure I made quite an impression on nearby motorists.

By the time my friend answered the phone, I was laughing too hard to speak.  I left my (quite convincing) “message” and hung up.  Then I proceeded to wheeze and cough, struggling to catch my breath for the next two hours.  My inhaler got a work-out as did my face muscles.  (Not having laughed like that for some time, I won’t be surprised if my face is sore tomorrow!)

I reminded myself and I’ll say it again…….You really can’t be worried or afraid when you’re laughing.  You can’t be mad or depressed when your sides are splitting with joy.  Frustration goes out the window when your cheeks hurt and you’re trying to catch your breath.  Though the motorists who observed my seemingly certifiable behavior may have questioned my sanity, they also smiled.  Some of them laughed with (or at) me.  I’ll consider it my public service for today. 

Try it tomorrow.  Go ahead and crack your own self up.  I’m still smiling just thinking about it. 

And that  is something worth reporting………

Thars Gold in Them Thar Hills….. April 22, 2008

Before I get into today’s blog too far, for those of you who were wondering if I found someone to make happy yesterday…..I had a little bit of a hard time thinking of a way to make someone happy that didn’t involve buying them something.  Oh, I tried to do nice things for some strangers….for instance, I let the guy on crutches go ahead of me at the pharmacy (I know….but some people might not have…), and I complimented the check-out lady on her cool glasses…I’m not sure if these things actually made anybody “happy”, though.  I am working on a “project” that I cannot mention that I do think might make someone happy in the future, but I am not at liberty to discuss it in open forum….

 

As for today…I was listening to a portion of an audio by the famous motivational speaker, Zig Ziglar.  He was speaking of the famous industrialist, Andrew Carnegie, who lived over 100 years ago.  It is said that Carnegie had 43 millionaires working for him.  When asked how he managed to employ 43 millionaires, Carnegie replied, “not one of them was a millionaire when they started working for me.”  Naturally, the question to follow was what did he do to make them so productive that they could all become millionaires under his tutelage.  “Well,”  he said, “you develop people the same way you mine for gold.  If you go into a gold mine, you’ll move TONS of dirt to find an ounce of gold….but you don’t go in there looking for the dirt….you go in there looking for the gold.“ 

Wow….for some reason that really struck me.  We do it with ourselves, our kids, our loved ones.  Unfortunately, sometimes we’re so focused on the dirt that we forget about the gold.  Thars gold in them thar hills!  And we need to be looking for it when we go into the mines of our day to day lives.  I personally have been feeling up to my neck in dirt these days….but I know there is a nugget in here somewhere that I cannot leave buried.  So I plan on digging until my fingers are raw.

Have you seen the future of gold?  Maybe I’ll use a shovel….

If You’re Happy and You Know It…. April 21, 2008

I was mindlessly flipping through channels yesterday when something caught my eye.  There on PBS was Deepak Chopra (a doctor and one of the world’s greatest leaders in mind body medicine) wearing what looked like Elton John’s glasses.  I’m familiar with Deepak (but not in those glasses!).  I love his work but I’d rather read it than listen to him because his voice puts me to sleep (how enlightened am I?).  The glasses caught my attention so I tuned in just long enough to hear him say that happiness comes from making other people happy. 

Hmmmm…..I tried that in my former marriage and it was a bust (I’m not bitter…..) but I generally believe in the concept.  It occured to me that perhaps it was time to try the approach again.  So, in the fashion of “Operation Smile” (see http://lifeonhysterialane.wordpress.com/2008/02/28/big-toothy-grin/ ) I decided to put “Operation Happy” into effect.

But on whom could I focus my happy attention?  My son would be happy if I just left him alone for one minute……I can do that…   My parents might be happy if I got a real  job, with real benefits so that I could stop playing Russian Roulette with my future….but that can’t happen today……My ex would be happy if I dropped dead, but that’s not going to happen today either (God willing) because I just passed my stress test…

Hmmm….I guess I’ll have to find a stranger and think of something that might make him/her happy.  Animals count, right?  If I had a dog, I’d rub its belly.  I don’t have a dog.  Maybe I could throw some nuts out the door to the squirrel that harasses me on my front porch.  Do squirrels eat Planters Peanuts?  They do on the commercial.  I’d sure hate to kill the poor little guy with my Spicy Glazed Nuts…..

That would not make me happy. 

Well, I’m off on my Hunt as a Happiness Helper.  I’ll keep you posted.