tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75237718363516246282024-03-05T02:42:46.782-07:00laurabsingslaurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-26492489140742293882021-11-28T12:21:00.016-07:002021-11-28T15:30:09.502-07:00staying connected.<p>I made a big change. </p><p>I followed a call. </p><p>I was drawn to Colorado, and to the sun, and to things not quite in my view yet. </p><p>Two months ago I moved about 30 miles from Denver, to a cabin, in the mountains.</p><p>It's remote here, but I still need to connect with the internet powers, and to share my music during these extended pandemic times, and to ease into mountain living with a sprinkling of modernity.</p><p>I found a broadband company who can service my area and last week they installed all the moving internet parts.</p><p>Yay!</p><p>No.</p><p>slow ... slow ...</p><p>"can't connect"...over and over, "can't connect"... </p><p>or WON'T, internet, be honest, is it can't or won't?? </p><p>(I *may* have accidentally been talking to the modem, and the laptop, the broadband company.)</p><p>I persisted, and as I prepared for this morning's Zoom service, I plugged my ethernet cable right into the modem and I was connected. </p><p>Wahooooo !</p><p>A half hour later, it couldn't connect again, despite being hardwired this time and despite the fact that, HELLO, I had a service to do. </p><p>I breathed deeply. I monitored my regrets, my self-talk, my blaming of me and the broadband company (in their defense, though, I have a 30-day trial period, full refund if I choose to cancel so that helped.)</p><p>With another deep breath I closed my eyes and said "Gd, I'm handing this over to you"...not my usual go-to, but in this moment I had to let go, and I really had no where to go, but in.</p><p>Go in, Laura.</p><p>So in I went. </p><p>I felt calm. Released. Open to bigger things. And wouldn't you know it, Zoom zoom A Zoom! I was on the soundcheck for the service and all was working. Ethernet cable right into the modem. Connecting right to my source.</p><p>Then spin spin spin. </p><p>Disconnecting.</p><p>Bye Zoom.</p><p>*(&$^%!!!!</p><p>I needed a solution STAT and realized the only one left was using my iPhone. No hardwire. No microphone, no reverb, just me. Bare. Taking a chance that I would sound warbly, but honoring my commitments, despite the circumstances, was a must. So I was connected via Zoom on my phone. My friends on the other end said it actually sounded pretty good. They love me, and they love my music, and I'm so grateful.</p><p>Incidentally the Sunday talk was about change. So much of that today - pivoting really, willingness to let go, to change the way I approach any given situation. Seeing it all as a gift (always practicing this.)</p><p>My heart and presence moved itself through the airwaves despite the change of approach to connectivity. Yet there was still connection, and even when we think a connection isn't making a difference, it always is, don't you think? We can touch another, and our own depths, with just one spark. Especially when we begin from a place and space of inner connection with our own Divine Lover. </p><p>OK - so connect. First with my personal source. My breath. Accept the situation, ok. And - Don't allow the experience to rattle me so much that I can't remember my direction which ultimately is first, inward, then outward. Go IN first. Connect with those energy waves of Love swirling around the skeleton, blood flow, atoms, invisible Spirit.</p><p>Interesting to me that my laptop decided when it wanted to connect:</p><p>"Now, Laptop?" says Me. "... um, Nope, sorry not sorry" says Laptop.</p><p>Thanks technology, for being inhuman but providing a lesson for this human: I can always choose to connect. Connect with my inner power, Gd, the Great Love, our Universe - whenever I want to connect. That connection is my primary relationship, the one that serves me, sources me, fills me, and then a pathway is created to provide the same to others.</p><p>So much connecting today...with myself, with others, with music, with technology. With lessons awaiting me.</p><p>And tomorrow, I'm connecting with the internet company to see about that refund. </p>laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-15912930026015390082021-06-13T17:11:00.005-06:002021-06-13T19:09:02.520-06:00two slices please.<p><br /></p><p>No, not pizza, although ... YUM.</p><p>Two slices of bread. </p><p>I made a sandwich today. Not a one slice hoping-the-sandwich-stuff-doesn't fall-on-the-plate version, but a two slices kind, one that secures all the good middle stuff. </p><p>The one-slice sammy is something super familiar to me, and to be honest has not always been the healthiest choice, emotionally-speaking. It has been a design to keep me "on track", carb-controlling, monitoring all that enters this body. My go-to on managing change, stress, fear ... Old stuff that shows up now and again. More on that in a bit.</p><p>The two slices for lunch today secured the sandwich stuff and surprisingly also made ME feel secure, held, cozy and present. </p><p>Oh bread, you are a great teacher.</p><p>See, I've spent the better part of my tweendom 'til now counting, monitoring, restricting:</p><p>How much did I eat?</p><p>How many calories was that?</p><p>Do I look OK? </p><p>Are they judging me? </p><p>Am I judging me?</p><p>Somewhere along my path I stopped enjoying food, forgot the pleasure in it, how it nourishes. Food came with sadness. Pounds became an indicator of success, getting bigger wasn't a good thing. Rounder was failure. Small was victorious.</p><p>I've told myself that eating disordering is no longer a part of my life, yet ... that wave still rolls in now and again.</p><p>But not today.</p><p>So I'm eating my sandwich and pondering. Interesting how I chose two slices because in my life right now things have been swiftly changing, pulling me, urging me to grow so that I might serve more dynamically in my life, and in our world. You'd think I'd jump into my defaulting. </p><p>No! It was two slices today.</p><p>Yes, there are so many unknowns always. Change is ever-present for us all yet I have the years and some wisdom to know that this time I'm gonna be in these unknown waters and also practice detachment, speak my "this or something better" mantra, allow all the feelings to feel me, pull myself open, and grow into my calling, despite the unknowns and fears and ... should I have had just one slice?! </p><p>We all have ways of managing stress and change and yes, I could have chosen one slice. But a for-real two-slice sandwich, well, it just felt right. It was comforting. It was freedom. Nobody, not even me, would dare make a sound, or a comment. Just me, and my lunch, and a clearer sense of who I am.</p><p>It'll all be alright, this I know.</p><p>I am growing, which means all parts of me feel kind of exposed right now. There is a part of me still chattering and selling me on staying safe: "what are you doing?? you ALWAYS make a one-slice sandwich!"</p><p>Well, monkey-in-my-mind, I chose what I most needed today. A lot comes with life changes ... all the fear, grief, you name it, and my body, mind and spirit needed nourishment, acceptance, pleasure. It needed a release of the old stuff, it needed a cozy bread blanket today. </p><p>Some pieces of sandwich filling fell on the plate, too. Perhaps an outward example of my newly balanced inside: feeling safe and secure during these times of changes, and being the adventurous wild child I am, excited for the new things I can't see yet. And letting some parts of me fall, exposed, while some remain protected, contained.</p><p>Growing up and out. Being held by love, grace, faith. </p><p>Letting go of the old familiar patterns that served a purpose years ago.</p><p>Knowing I deserve nourishment, pleasure, safety. </p><p>Yesssss ... and next time, bbq chips, too.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-32478363162045566642017-07-05T12:31:00.004-06:002017-07-05T15:42:55.920-06:00It's not always black and white. When I arrived in Oregon eight years ago, it was an adjustment.<br />
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We are from New York.<br />
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End of post.<br />
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Kidding.<br />
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I noticed, and wasn't afraid to ask:<br />
<br />
"Where are all the black people?".<br />
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Now asking a question like this came from an honest and innocent place inside me. And it also might be offensive to some. I understand the implications yet I'm still sharing this story because what followed was pretty impactful for me.<br />
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New York is a port where peoples from all nations arrived to make a better life. They brought with them sadness for families left behind, excitement for new beginnings, and culture, food and language. Like folks who traveled to this West side of the country to explore new frontiers, there are new beginnings. Different experiences of it, but still important to note a similar story of leaving the nest for something better.<br />
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New York is very different than Oregon because of the diversity of the influx of different cultures who arrived, and as a result it has so much diversity you sometimes don't even notice it. In Oregon you notice it because the fact is there just hasn't been the diversity of cultures here. I judged you, Oregon, even though you were just being you. I really am sorry.<br />
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In New York, diversity is in the languages and smells of foods; it's sewn into the fabric of the place and when the color is absent from a place, you notice. Well, I noticed.<br />
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But after some time I didn't like the fact that I was noticing the absence of color here in Portland. I didn't like that I was asking the question "Where are all the black people?" I started to wonder if I was being a racist. I wasn't judging or hating like a "real" racist, but I was noticing and I wondered if that put me on the racist-spectrum. I was seeing me and them and that's a no-no, no?<br />
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I'm actually grateful that I worry about everything I feel, do or say because if I didn't worry, I wouldn't grow. #jewishjustification<br />
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So in recent years, I made a conscious switch. I didn't want to make a statement any longer of what was missing from my new homeland of Oregon. I wanted to see people, not first see the thing that made us different. Mid-life was calling me to love myself and other people more deeply. I wanted a deeper experience of togetherness.<br />
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So I went with it.<br />
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Every time I saw black skin color, I noticed the skin color and promptly after the noticing I said to myself "look at that man" or "love those shoes" etc etc. To my surprise and very shortly afterwards did lines of differences begin to blur and dissolve.<br />
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I felt good, I felt fluid, I felt floaty and I felt free.<br />
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Aaaaaaand, here are a few things I learned:<br />
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1. It's not an easy task to NOT notice our differences. I believe we humans learn to notice differences and it can actually be a good thing; When we see that we all come from different places, we can grow to understand others and learn empathy, and lots of things about different cultures and ways of life, as well as growing more deeply into our selves. I think it can be dangerous to skim over the obvious, proclaim "we are all One!" and deny us the opportunity to embrace the differences we have.<br />
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2. Skin color isn't a trivial difference, I mean, I could quickly notice and then switch to naming something else about the person, something that isn't the difference in our skin color. But our skin-color-spectrum is an indicator of where our ancestors came from. This is important to me, being from New York, the place where everyone came from somewhere else and that made life interesting and colorful. I do understand, though, that so many folks have not had the experience I had, and especially as far West as Oregon. But I wonder if, in Liberal places without so much cultural diversity, that there is actually a disservice being done by skipping right to the "We are all One!" instead of noticing how we are different? It's tricky I think.<br />
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3. This has helped me on my own personal path to accepting who I am, too, without judgment, and accepting Oregon for not being New York. It also helped me realize how integral it is for me to bring my whole self, ethnicity, color and crazy to the world, and how integral it is for me to live in an environment that embraces the same. And maybe, it might be OK for me to see a person of color and say "what a beautiful, black gal!" just like someone might say about me "what a beautiful, white Jewish gal!".<br />
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Or something.<br />
<br />
But you get what I'm saying?<br />
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Who made the rules anyhow? How do you know what's the right way to be, or think, or feel?<br />
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We can all find a whole host of reasons to be offended by a variety of things in today's world. But what if for a moment we allowed ourselves to just be who we are, without worrying that we've made a mistake, or hurt someone, or said the wrong thing.<br />
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(Right about now, some of you might be thinking I'm using my White Privilege Mileage Points card. My grandparents left Eastern Europe for America because they were killing us Jews so stop it please.)<br />
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When I moved west, I saw too much black and white, but I'm embracing the rainbow I am now and seeing the differences between you and me as another opportunity to learn more about you, and about me. Striking a balance however and whenever I can. So there's the rainbow, and the black, and the white, and the gray. All of it.<br />
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I'm gonna be fierce, and bold. I'm gonna be me. I can't censor every little thing about me because then that would defeat the purpose of me being me. But please tell me if I've offended you but also explain to me why so I can learn more about you, and so that I might not hurt you or others in the future.<br />
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The canvas is blank and I know it's up to me and the brotherhood of society to paint our diverse palette into view. We may be One, from a spiritual perspective, but we are also human and our humanness makes us Amazing. We are one big portrait with each individual stroke a color or an absence of color, each as important as the other.<br />
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Poetry aside, I've also come to learn that many experiences and situations in life are not always black and white, and yet, sometimes they are. I can just continue to strive to be present, and open, and honest and humbled - and to feel like I did earlier:<br />
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Good, fluid, floaty and free.<br />
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Sharing this post was a good place to start. Onward and Upward!<br />
<br />
btw, New York does have the best black and white cookies, just sayin'. #generallyspeakingitallcomesdowntofood<br />
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<br />laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-1159336642771921692017-02-19T10:12:00.000-07:002017-02-19T11:12:18.156-07:00Wonder of Wonder, Miracle of Miracles.<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">I just had an ah-ha, whilest scrubbing my teeths.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">I am emersed in Jewish and mystical study, and the study of spiritual and religious practices of the world, </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">more now than ever as I write my Sabbath Queen show. There is so much to know, so much to learn, and for this lifelong student, I'm in hog heaven.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">As a child, I always loved to learn. Moreso about people, and from people and situations, and less from a textbook. Looking back now, I think I thought the constant need for information wasn't the right way for a person to be. Maybe a teacher at school once told me to stop asking questions in class one day. Or maybe my line of questioning in different situations was provocative. Or maybe people didn't like always being under a microscope having to talk about themselves. Or ... I dunno.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Here is my ah-ha: Judaism is a path where you may still not have learned everything even as you take your last breath. Prayers, Hebrew, stories, holidays and festivals, practices, commentaries, customs. The irony is astounding to me, that I am learning and questioning and deepening my understandings about Judaism right now as I write my show, and live life, and meet new people, and I am completely unapologetic about it. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">I've landed in the best place someone like me could land. Willy Wonka! </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">I never really believed that "everything happens for a reason" far beyond something's happening, and shit, I have to deal. But if I step away, or step up, and see the novel of my life from an eagle's view, I now see my journey as pure, guided, and sensible. I see it as purposeful and on time. And might I add, happening for a reason. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">I believe the world needs, at the very least, a bridge between Judaism and Christianity, and light shining on what we have come to believe as differences. I</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> also believe that Peace within comes from understanding</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> our self. And Peace in the world comes from understanding our neighbor. And that is what I am living and doing, by writing, and sharing my stories, and putting this show out there. And asking questions, And just being who I am ... Who else can I be? </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Thank you, almost-fifty!</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">It is a miracle, truly, to reflect in this way. I stand in wonder of the twists and turns and decisions of my life to this point. And I never forget what my mom said once, that no matter what, I "always land on my feet." I have, and I do and I need that landing to walk forward. I need those roots from which to draw my strength. And I, like the eagle, also have an alternate perspective as I fly above myself, and see a line in a map showing the trail I've taken so far. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">From Fiddler on the Roof (because the song popped into my head and then I wrote this blog post. And because ... Jewish):</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">But of all God's miracles large and small,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">The most miraculous one of all</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Is the one I thought could never be:</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">God has given you to me.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">God, Life, Love, Family, The Presence - The happier I become, the more authentically I can say Thank you to everyone and everything. You were given to me so I may be wonderful in my living, so I may understand what a miracle is. So I may fulfill my purposes. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif;">I,</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> too, was given to you. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">We are wonderous miracles given to each other.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "open sans" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">I am grateful I'm not having a crisis; I'm glad my midlife awakening is not asking that I get a sports car. That shit is expensive! I'm content in doing the high-speeding instead soaring high up in the air, eagle-style. Yeah, definitely. Because also, you know the traffic nowadays, Oy. </span>laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-75316444602010316792017-02-11T17:54:00.000-07:002017-02-11T17:54:21.425-07:00Golden Retriever.I'm in a constant state of retrieval.<br />
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Retrieving lost parts of myself for recrafting purposes.<br />
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Retrieving lost parts of myself that I gave away to others.<br />
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Retrieving life moments for reliving purposes.<br />
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Digging inside to remember who I am.<br />
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Retrieving the light, a golden retriever.laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-16762645015228094882016-11-06T17:17:00.004-07:002016-11-06T17:21:52.443-07:00Trinkets & Treasures.For several months I was jamming through life, unaware, just barely present. Disconnected really.<br />
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On this one day, I rested for a minute in front of my dresser. I was tired, sad, feeling pretty hopeless.<br />
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I looked down onto the dresser's surface and saw what now appeared to me to be healing presences of all types - necklaces, charms, candles - all together in close proximity, some bracelet chains draped over mala beads, a hamsa resting next to an amber charm. I saw, well, I remembered in that moment that most of these trinkets and treasures had been given to me by this life's family members, each one with a special meaning, given with love and generosity.<br />
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The light switched on, I smiled in great gratitude and then breathed a really deep breath, opened up my chest, and lowered my neck and opened to receive the peace I knew was mine. When I opened to receive, my heart space, inside and out, was warm.<br />
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It was so good - I was at perfect peace.<br />
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I don't think I had been in such a deep state of gratitude and peace in a really long time. Hence my disconnect and lack of presence in those months. Of course, yes, they are connected. But we forget so often.<br />
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After all this, I looked up from these sparklie trinkets and treasures, little wondrous angels who had just reminded me, and I smiled again as I looked in the mirror - I was wearing this heart T-shirt.<br />
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Yeah. I think I somehow knew I needed a heart opener when I got dressed that morning. And so it was.laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-51169817379902749102016-05-13T17:58:00.001-06:002016-05-13T18:19:02.624-06:00Decisions, Decisions.For several months now, I've known that something big is happening. Haven't been able to put my finger on exactly what it is, if it's career related, family related. It just feels big, and it's happening.<br />
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It's also happening for so many of my friends. I keep asking around, "Do you feel like something big is happening?" And they answer "Yessssss!"<br />
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How could something big be happening to so many of us simultaneously, in April/May of 2016? I think there was some planetary stuff, or maybe the election is making us all rethink everything. But really - I mean, it's not like the same exact big thing could be happening to all of us. How could that be? We're all holding onto the same string that's attached to a big balloon and floating together above the US?<br />
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Whew, it's all kind of amazing, and kind of freaking me out.<br />
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Aaaaand ... Too much thinking.<br />
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Usually I expend energy trying to figure out what exactly the unknown is (in this case, "bigness") so I can proceed in doing things in support of that thing, or decide what "it" is, so I can create a nice, white picket fence, feel safe. OK, it's a little ... hmf hmf ... control freakiness.<br />
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Trusting-the-universe's-plan-for-me type of faith and groundedness is not really how I'm built. Up until now anyhow. It can be unnerving to await, and allow quiet and calm in, and to see with new eyes, and to imagine all new things, or a new plan for my life without having to have any answers or direction. Just. To. Trust.<br />
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This bigness feeling, whatever and whoever and whyever it is, has changed me. I actually don't want to know what it is, which is part of why it's big I suspect. A new me is growing as a result of this big thing, or the big thing is forcing me to grow.<br />
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No more thinking!<br />
<br />
I just want to continue experiencing the feeling of joy and greatness and expansion that it's bringing forth from me.<br />
<br />
What a wildly different approach from how I've operated up until this point; It's like I've been substituting Kava tea for my coffee in the morning (for those who don't know Kava, just ask at Whole Foods.) I literally don't want to make a decision about anything, well, maybe some decisions like holding myself to some kind of schedule, setting little goals, getting exercise, doing good deeds and having fun.<br />
<br />
You're built how you're built, and I do need to know a few things. If I don't decide on at least a few things, my life will consist solely of sleeping and eating, so this kind of nicely paced day-to-day decision making I can trust.<br />
<br />
But I want to not decide what this bigness is. To reign in the invisible big energy that's encompassing me right now, to name it, put it in a box, steer it - well, I wonder if that would actually diminish its potential, and very well diminish mine.<br />
<br />
Yet, there is still the me who wants to know ... c'mon!<br />
<br />
What to do, what to do ...<br />
<br />
Verily I say unto thee: Nothing at all.<br />
<br />
<br />laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-78887305072098925652016-04-20T17:17:00.004-06:002016-04-20T17:21:50.011-06:00One potato, Two potatoYesterday I was sifting through a bag of little red potatoes, picking out the ones that weren't soft.<br />
<br />
For some reason I just thought the soft ones weren't good any more. I honestly don't know where I learned that.<br />
<br />
In any case, I sifted, and at the end of my bad potato-be-gone escapade, I had about a dozen "good" ones and a big pile of "bads" that I threw in the trash.<br />
<br />
I stared at the trash, the little soft ones forming a potato layer of insulation for the garbage below it.<br />
<br />
And I had a blast of thought - about my grandfather, and him and his family being so poor and only having potatoes to eat. And then it popped into my head, a potato famine that impacted the Irish so horribly.<br />
<br />
I wondered if, like me, they all thought the soft potatoes weren't good to eat?<br />
<br />
I think their parameters and circumstances were completely and utterly different. I also can't assume that they didn't have their own experience of privilege (like mine of trashing soft potatoes) alongside their suffering. Although my instincts are saying that the privilege they experienced was more along the lines of gratitude for living to see the next sunrise.<br />
<br />
I didn't take the soft potatoes out of the garbage, despite these reflections. I didn't want the experiences of others to guilt me into trusting what my instincts felt were right. I mean, what if the soft potatoes were going bad and could make me sick?<br />
<br />
But I was highly aware - that I was the blood of those before me, those who had experienced hardship and tragedy. I have hands formed from generations of DNA. I'm also aware that I can feel the hardships of others who I'm not related to by blood.<br />
<br />
We can relate to most anyone, can't we? Just paying attention can open those gates up.<br />
<br />
Yet relating to others doesn't necessarily mean we need to change our own identity, thoughts, behaviors. I have my own hardships; there were times in my 20's when I only had a handful of change to get me through the week. Where is that line we draw, the one that compels us to judge others' experiences as worse than ours? Can we give selflessly but not judge? Truth be told, I can never really know how someone is experiencing their own experience - I think I know, but only based on what I believe is the threshold of good and bad, based on MY own experience.<br />
<br />
A whole host of ponderings, all over a bunch of spuds.<br />
<br />
Spudosophy?<br />
<br />
Well, maybe the little guys had some inspirational tidbits to psychically share with me today. Maybe they know more than we think, see things we don't. They do have eyes after all.<br />
<br />
<br />laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-67689747472717380542016-04-04T20:08:00.004-06:002016-04-04T21:39:06.420-06:00I got you under my skin.I generally don't pay much attention to what others do.<br />
<br />
No, that's not what I mean.<br />
<br />
I don't pay attention to what others do in that way of attention turned into comparing what they do to what I do. My attention tends to be paid in being inspired by their work, or standing in support of their endeavors, whether it's listening, or offering to execute a task or two on their behalf.<br />
<br />
But paying attention and then lessening my confidence is something that's long in my past.<br />
<br />
Well, no. I'm lying.<br />
<br />
Sorry.<br />
<br />
That part of me that I just claimed to be long in my past I recently discovered has actually been laying long and low in the sleepy part of me, right here in the present.<br />
<br />
It woke me up last week and started making comparisons.<br />
<br />
I was dumbfounded!<br />
<br />
I thought for sure I was enlightened by now.<br />
<br />
I believe it's very good to pay attention to others, in the way of being inspired to aspire. That's totally legit. But being inspired to aspire doesn't mean you're supposed to reduce your worth to below zero in the light of others' dreams and successes.<br />
<br />
I'm built (and you, too I believe) to carry all that I can inside my little frame, with everything almost right there under my skin - my emotions, inner workings, blood 'n guts, intuition and insight, icky thoughts.<br />
<br />
Perhaps the battle of my remembering to recognize the good and uniqueness of myself when I'm not really feeling so valuable in comparison to others - perhaps this process actually stretches me to rethink, and remember, and redesign my understanding and perspective of the situation, and of myself.<br />
<br />
Maybe this is why I have stretch marks?<br />
<br />
So I guess it's not such a bad thing to have this sleepy part of me awaken now and again, and do some seemingly awful things like scratching at me, and comparing me, and implementing separation tactics, all the while making me weepy and unbalanced and vulnerable (I completely recognize the drama queen I can be).<br />
<br />
Because after all that ... ahhh ... I remember.<br />
<br />
Contrasts in life are so important.<br />
<br />
Maybe I am enlightened!<br />
<br />
In any case, I think I'll just keep you around, weird and awakening side of me, now that I'm starting to believe you're not all bad. Truth is, I got you under my skin and you're teaching me to stretch. Maybe stretch marks aren't so bad after all.<br />
<br />
<br />laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-66639016822784684632016-03-22T14:27:00.002-06:002016-03-22T14:30:45.314-06:00Snack ConversionI wish all the snacks that keep making their way into my mouth would translate into a lyric.<br />
<br />
I'm so hungry all the time and I never get full, and that's what's going on right now with my songs - I'm only able to say things musically, but without words. I'm hungry for music, and when it's time for lyrics, I'm full.<br />
<br />
And my lyric output used to be so awesome, and fast.<br />
<br />
Now, I wish I could fast, but all I do is snack.<br />
<br />
I'd like to enter my snacks into some kind of Conversion machine:<br />
<br />
one jelly bean = one lyrical line about a past relationship<br />
one piece of buttered toast = a spiritual growth lyric for a bridge<br />
one handful of tortilla chips = a chorus that expresses the heart of the masses<br />
<br />
So through this machine, I eat but I also get words. I like that. I like it a lot.<br />
<br />
Or maybe, a simpler solution: I could just listen to my stomach. Clearly it's getting all the attention nowadays. It might have a wise word or two.laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-80268067542465327762016-02-07T14:15:00.001-07:002016-02-07T15:18:20.185-07:00In my life, I've loved you more.I can't stop myself from giving. It's a thing.<br />
<br />
Well, it's been a thing.<br />
<br />
It's gone a little too far, though.<br />
<br />
I've had some really good months of nothing planned, just me getting re-nested after many years of extensive travel. Cleaning, purging, relaxing. Reading, writing. Cooking, baking. And there's some wine, I'm not gonna lie.<br />
<br />
All part of creating a space to receive, to receive myself.<br />
<br />
The "going a little too far in the gift department" is what's prompted this quiet settling. Like so many of us, I've been doing-doing-doing for a long long time. Just doing what I've been doing, without much thought at all as to whether or not the doing is actually doing something for me.<br />
<br />
I'm often told what a difference I make for folks with my music and singing, and how it's clear that I'm doing exactly what I was put here to do. I know this is true, but it's not all of me and I know now that I've let it be all of me.<br />
<br />
Just a bit of forgetting who I am.<br />
<br />
There's a voice inside me - not just the singing kind - but a voice that's pretty sure a new way to live and be and do my own life is essential now. I don't know even why I need everyone to know this, but I do - there are other wants, desires and needs in me that you, or I for that matter, don't know anything about yet.<br />
<br />
I know I shouldn't drive my life based on what others think. And I know I'm responsible for every step I take. Even the steps that, in retrospect, didn't lead me to feeling balanced, or healthy, or aligned with my life values. But it was I who did said "yes".<br />
<br />
But I was exhausted. And drained. And lifeless. Really knowing I needed to stop and breathe, I got off my wild and crazy train and made a formal proclamation for myself -<br />
<br />
I DECIDE.<br />
<br />
More like an imperative statement actually, a statement that I know now has saved me.<br />
<br />
Even though I've been solely responsible for my decisions, I wasn't really intentional or conscious of those decisions. So when you actually proclaim that it is YOU who decides about your life, all prior bets are off. It's a pretty ballsy thing, to proclaim something on your own behalf but sometimes you just gotta strap on a pair.<br />
<br />
I can't do what I'm doing and be who I'm being because others tell me that's what they think is right for me. And I can't be an unconscious yes-er, and give of myself so fiercely without allowing some of that giving to be received by me. And I can't pretend that it's a-OK to continue with my day-to-day when I feel kind of asleep and disconnected from it.<br />
<br />
Danggit!! I wrote a song about this (Know What You're Here For). JEESH.<br />
<br />
What are you gonna do. I'm still learning or else I wouldn't be blogging. I see all of this as a super duper yodel for Re-Invention. I'm listening and life is saying that there isn't a minute to spare doing anything I don't want to do, or worrying that I might disappoint someone who has an expectation of me, or judging my own thoughts and decisions.<br />
<br />
Or OK, do all that, because I'm human, and then change my mind about it. But the trick is I must change my mind, pause, and decide what is right for me. Then move forward ... because losing me in the tide isn't right or fair.<br />
<br />
Whose life is it anyway?<br />
<br />
In my life now, I wanna love me more.laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-55224109505552020812015-10-30T15:20:00.003-06:002015-10-30T15:37:32.732-06:00Quiet, please.The noises are sometimes unbearable:<br />
<br />
bathroom fan from the downstairs neighbor<br />
a text coming into my phone<br />
the garbage truck in the morning<br />
<br />
Other noises are sometimes unbearable, too. These actually come from inside my own head:<br />
<br />
commentary on my body size<br />
chatter about my to-do list<br />
conversations about what I've done right or wrong<br />
<br />
It must be a good thing, for me to discover noises from within. Do I need to be medicated?<br />
<br />
But I can't be the only one. There are those of us who are HSP's ("Highly Sensitive Person") and I know I'm one of them.<br />
<br />
Yet, the aggravation has been heightened for me as of late. The other night I couldn't even walk into the living room until my husband turned off the newscaster who was yelling his news story. <br />
<br />
I have meditative music on repeat, all day, with the hopes that it'll calm me the heck down, and bring me to some place of peace, and of gratitude. Sighh ... Gratitude is something hard to find when you're blaming the person who installed it for the sound of the bathroom fan in the apartment below you.<br />
<br />
I've wondered if my sensitivities are heightened now that it's almost November in Portland? But I bought a Happy Light and upped my Vitamin D and B12 intake! hmm...Or if my nerves are on edge by living in a small apartment with a very tall man, making it seem like we're living in a dollhouse with teeny tiny rooms. If I had some acid, maybe I could just imagine it all away on a fun adventure, like Alice.<br />
<br />
And the interrupting. I wonder if I am deliberately yet unconsciously interrupting my peace by tuning into extraneous noise. You really can't get anything done when you're interrupted, including getting the work done of being peaceful.<br />
<br />
So if the inside voices were chilled out a bit, I wonder if some of the external stuff wouldn't bother me as much. That is definitely something for me to consider. I suppose I could ask them to listen to the meditative music I have playing all day long? I doubt they'd listen, they'd probably have some conversation about it instead.<br />
<br />
Perhaps there is a heightened sensitivity in me just because things are off balance right now - I'm middle-aged (no!) and in a discerning state of new discovery, I'm letting go of old patterns and re-forming my dreams. My friends have kids going to college soon and I'm still taking care of the child known as me. I'm kind of in an unknown and not-definable place. I am traveling.<br />
<br />
I am in the desert (in Portland? Confused).<br />
<br />
When in the desert, you are bound to hear voices, I mean, there is NO ONE around but you. Every mystic who has traveled a desert has gained insights, grown spirituality, had a book written about them.<br />
<br />
I don't want a book written about me; honestly, I just want some quiet.<br />
<br />
Traveling solo, in the quiet of my desert-y world, after a long day of walking the sand, I imagine sitting at the table with all the parts of me. I'm gently reminding them that they too can relax, they too can breathe deeply and have some quiet time-outs.<br />
<br />
I am so ready for the silence, to have a greater understanding of myself, and listen to my own still, small and sane voice. If I can tune in there, perhaps the little things won't unnerve me any longer. Or maybe they will, but the still, small and sane voice will somehow be louder.<br />
<br />
May all this noise be interrupted ... with quiet.<br />
<br />
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<br />laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-77480605263111516182015-10-08T14:37:00.003-06:002015-10-08T18:23:39.499-06:00When I think of home ... <p dir="ltr">I imagine it's not uncommon to envision living in different places.</p>
<p dir="ltr">When I travel, it's become pretty common for me. I picture living in the city or town I'm visiting. I have my routine - checking rentals on Craigslist, seeing how many yoga studios there are, and of course, Are there Jews? A girl needs her tribe.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I'm comfortable also blaming my friends for enabling me in the whole routine. In their defense they just want me to live where they live because they love me, & I get it.</p>
<p dir="ltr">But it's tapping me out, this search for the ultimate home.</p>
<p dir="ltr">"No place is perfect". Wise words from my wise mom.</p>
<p dir="ltr">You can make a list of the pro's and con's of every last city in the USA and no one place will have everything you desire. And for me, the "everything I desire" can change and morph. I'm flexible and accommodating. I confuse myself even further.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So I wonder what exactly it is I'm desiring - a city, a town, a farm, left or right coast. Some place I've never considered?</p>
<p dir="ltr">Or perhaps, I'm seeking simplicity: A resonance with the earth I'm planted on, an inside sanctuary where I can create and where I can relax into, <u>a</u> green space outside.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Well, I know for sure (when I remember) that all those things are everywhere around me always, I just need to really see. I mean, I'm sitting in Starbucks right now getting all creative in this blog. And there's some foliage outside the window to my left. I feel pretty peaceful and within myself.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So I guess maybe it's not really always about the home, the structure itself, the town and its surroundings, if I wanna drum it down further. Perhaps it's just the feeling I get when I imagine each place, the feeling behind those things.</p>
<p dir="ltr">And maybe what I'm really seeking <u>anyhow</u> are things like security, health, more creativity, and inner peace?</p>
<p dir="ltr">If I can stop thinking and planning my future home for just a sec, I really do remember that all those outside things are always with me, inside me.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Jeesh! I sing about this stuff all the time.</p>
<p dir="ltr">When I think of home ... hmm ...  would be great if they had a Craigslist that's a roadmap back to the center of my heart. Instead of dropdown menus with number of bedrooms and max price for a home rental, there are dropdown menus with choices surely leading me closer to the truth of it all. Instead of max price I could choose "max bliss". Or something like that. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Yes, the perfect home is in my perfect heart.</p>
laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-5024082019304168632015-10-02T09:13:00.001-06:002015-10-02T16:42:36.790-06:00Deactivated, and that has made all the difference.<div dir="ltr">
It was a long time coming. A few years I think. Frustrated, uncomfortable, angry. Mostly frustrated. I know now that being frustrated for more than a few hours is long enough in my book.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I see now that all the activity was really living within the realm of inactivity. I couldn't watch anymore, stand by, listen to what others had to say about everything. I just didn't care. And it's not that I don't value opinions, but I cared too much and lost my own voice. I become a watcher, I became inactive. I gained weight in all the wrong places.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Temptation called. Shouldn't I be checking in, 'just to see'? Hmm ... Boredom ruled my hand.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
But I just couldn't participate any more. And I think I deactivated like five times until it was done.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
"Liberal Moaning" and "Religious Hypocrites", just a couple of ways to describe some. Lots of forwarding, and commenting, and arguing, and emotionally-fueled conversations. Looking at other people's lives. Caring about people who weren't real friends (who the hell has 1300+ friends anyhow?). Oh yes, and all from the comforts of the computer or smartphone.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
Inactivity posing as activity.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Then there was the consciousness drive-bys. Right - there must be something in me that's creating what I'm seeing in the world. Hmm ... well, what I actually found to be in the "consciousness" of me, and some of my "friends" was apathy. Apathy is a great vehicle to comfortably watch and judge and share opinions, and do that over and over and over, waiting for things to change and then blaming everyone for what's not right.<br />
<br />
And solely praying for those going through some kind of tragedy is so safe - to send love and light and then go back to your latte and posting something about pups, or guns, or sharing a quote by someone famous - hints of arrogance.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Here's what I know: Women didn't get the right to vote by praying. Civil rights didn't happen by sitting around at a coffee shop pondering. And Gun control and background checks are definitely not happening by our hanging out and sharing our opinions on Facebook in between day to day to-do's.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Do you know how damn lucky you are for those who came before you, and took the action that has made your life the good & free life it is today?<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Do you know how damn unlucky you are for those people today who are making decisions for you while you sit around and choose to not participate in your own life?<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
It's those questions and the physical aversion that finally led me to deactivate once and for all. I have been sick from all of it, and bored, and asleep.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Oh, but you still have my photos, my inspirational posts, my sharing over the years. But Facebook, you don't have me anymore. You were my time-wasting-apathy-enabler for way too long, and I'm grateful to know that you no longer own me.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I do thank you for giving me that option in my Settings. Oh I've been tempted by you since, though, "Come on back, we have things you need ... friends who care for you ... ".</div>
<div dir="ltr">
Oh hell no.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
My apathy is gone. My opinion of your opinion doesn't matter any more. I never had more than a dozen real close friends who I would trust myself with. How did I get comfortable sharing personal things with 1300+? Oh Facebook, you enabled me.<br />
<br />
And now ... I am free.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I am back to being discerning and action-oriented. I am here to make a difference in my life and in the lives of others. I am aligned with those who take action. And my real friends, well, they have my cel #.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
This deactivation also corresponds with my being officially in mid-life, that place I've only heard about but to where I believe I've finally arrived. The sacred oasis where you no longer give a s**t about what people think of you and It. Is. Awesome.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I've been waiting for myself to meet me here. I bet I'll be tempted to return, to become activated in the activity I now see as apathy, but I'm over the mountain and am filled with new, clear air fueling my possibilities. If I feel compelled to peek back in there, I hope I'll know and remember that the only place worthy of my peeks now is inside of me, and then the road ahead. Action makes the heart grow fonder.</div>
laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-49722438746229975082015-08-24T12:19:00.002-06:002015-08-24T12:23:43.725-06:00Some explaining to do ... So lest you think I'm such the prolific writer that I'd churn out a dozen posts in one day ...<br />
<br />
All of the "Aug 24" posts below were actually written semi-sporadically over the last few years, posted in a few different blogs that are no longer active. Today, in an effort to create order and sanity (if possible), I copied and pasted them all into the new <b>laurabsings</b> blog. Everything is now in one cozy blog place. Virgos, I hear you, I see you.<br />
<br />laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-47769290472396586502015-08-24T11:58:00.001-06:002015-08-24T12:07:59.633-06:00Disney is a friendly place.<span style="font-family: inherit;">So last night, my friends were talking about Disney World.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Noooooo!!!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">ABSOLUTELY NOT.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's my worst nightmare, literally. I am quite clear that I would never ever ever go again. It's just too overwhelming for me, too many people, too much hustle 'n bustle. Too expensive. Too smelly. Actually, the thought of it makes me itch.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ironically, just the other night we were watching Nurse Jackie, the episode where she describes rehab as Disney Land (or World, I forget). Oh, s**t, sorry for the leak. Um .... reverse spoiler alert!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I know that Disney was a way of Jackie hiding the fact that she went to rehab, but two Disney's in one week. It's a sign!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">(Uggh, I feel sick. Disney queasy, like, ate a corn dog, drank Hawaiian Punch and went on the roller coaster, queasy).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">OK - what if I stayed open, open to Disney? I mean, I've managed (mostly very well) so far being in an overwhelming, bustling, people-filled world. If I can handle Disney, I can handle anything really. Right? RIGHT? (help me please, where's my Kava?).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Truth is, no matter what the situation I really do know the calm happy place in me. I've been there. Sometimes I've even stayed a while. It's my responsibility to recognize when I'm getting itchy by any number of situations and go to my happy place.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Rainbows, Unicorns, Mud Pie.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Life will be overwhelming, guaranteed. Well, it CAN be overwhelming. We're people. Feeling people, caring people. As much as we may bury our heads in the sand sometimes about our own lives and the lives and circumstances around us, we feel things. I will go so far as to say that we know things, we are intuitive. There is a lot happening, in all aspects of all of our lives, all the time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So yes, life can be overwhelming. It can be a freaky long line for a ride, or a $10 hot dog, or rehab with Nurse Jackie. But it's my choice as to how deeply I want to be involved in the disruptive and overwhelming level of things.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">What a very cool discovery. Yay me! Who would have thought that sweet little friendly big-eared creatures (leading to the Worldwide Enterprise known as World / Land) would create such drama-trauma within me. And that I might find a message in it. The fact that I'm becoming this aware is kind of amazing to me. But still, even as I discover, I'm still uncomfortable. Pushing and pulling, flowing and stopping, moving through life's masses. So many people, and things, and situations, and emotions. And a full moon to boot.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Breathing. Deeply breathing ... Disney is a friendly place. Disney is a friendly place.</span><br />
<br />laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-55867353567460106152015-08-24T11:57:00.003-06:002015-08-24T11:57:37.095-06:00From the mouths of babes.At the Library recently there was a little girl in front of me in line checking out some videos with her dad.<br />
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"This is my second time seeing White Fang!" she exclaimed.<br />
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"Wow!" I said. "I bet you'll learning something new each time you see it!".<br />
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She smiled and said, "You're like my dad; he said the same thing".<br />
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Dad and I looked at each and exchanged smiles.<br />
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"Kind of like life, huh?" I said. "Learning something new every day, An adventure!"<br />
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I saw the back of her long blond locks as they turned to leave, and with that sweet little voice of promise, she exclaimed back to me, "Have a great adventure today!"<br />
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There was nothing like it.laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-10135347218560567852015-08-24T11:57:00.001-06:002015-08-24T11:57:08.803-06:00I cannot tell a lie.It's true. I cannot tell a lie.<br />
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If you're looking to plan a surprise party, I'm not your gal, believe me. If you want my opinion about something, just ask. If you want to know who finished the Mint Chip, it was me.<br />
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I cannot tell a lie. Well, I actually can, and that gets me into a lot of trouble. You see, it's been challenging for me in my life to own up to my misgivings, to take responsibility for my actions. I'm about 3 1/2 when it comes to this stuff. I'm realizing just how much I fear the consequences. Really, what could happen, someone might get mad? I'd get fired? I could get sent to my room?<br />
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So I lie to myself, I make up stories about the story. Change it around a bit (who will know anyhow?). I pretend things are different. Twist and turn the idea of it all. Anything so I won't get into trouble, see others get mad, be the cause and reason for the world's demise (yes, it’s all MY fault).<br />
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The truth as I know it is that when I'm not owning my responsibility for any given situation, I'm not being honest with myself, and with others. I’m denying the honest truth of me and it's not the position of service I choose to be in. My denial process sort of elongates and perpetuates the untruths, &amp; keeps all the good, juicy stuff at bay. I guess my process is a tight little ball of past conditionings and, truth is, it's just waiting to be unraveled (and knit into a deliciously warm angora parka).<br />
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If you only knew the to-the-core guilt I felt when I tried a cigarette for the first time. I felt it was wrong but I wanted to be cool and I wanted to know what the others knew. Oh, did I torture myself for trying that cigarette. Me and Shakespeare could've written some amazing stuff together.<br />
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But if I had known what I know now, I could have allowed myself that very moment of being the kid who was experimenting, who was experiencing life. 30 something years later I'm still learning to be at ease with my decisions, trusting that I'm standing on a foundation made up only of honesty and truth. That Marlboro-y outward experience wasn’t the truth of me - The truth of me is in my cells, and no experience can take that away. Say it with me: No outward experience can take away the beauty and truth of who I am. Good.<br />
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Perhaps these types of accepting realizations are the very needed steps in our lives which allow us to move into a deepening acceptance of our inner truth and light. When we don't stand in our own truth, acknowledge all the good that we are, and know that it's okay to make our own decisions (and trusting that all the results, or consequences are purposeful), then we're surely caught up in a lie.<br />
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As I start waking up to this, I am becoming more aware of the spiritual undertoe that has been pulling me and throwing me to and fro all these years. I think it’s been kicking me (in a sweet, ballet kind of way) 'round and 'round until I woke up, to this point, right here, right now. Even as I write this, I’m even just slightly more awakened than I was a minute ago. Now that’s progress, good honest progress.<br />
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So I think: How will honesty change me? Could honesty emprision me? Will I really get into trouble if I tell the truth? Will people still like me? Will I still like me?<br />
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I guess I have to start right where I am, in this space, my own personal minute, reminding myself that I am the honest truth. I want to drive on a road paved with wisdom stones. I'm perfect as me and the Truth in my heart is love, peace, compassion, creativity, joy and success. Through this practice, I can begin to operate from this great place. I will know when I'm not being honest, or authentic, or truthful. I will know.<br />
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Imagine our world if we all operated from honesty. There would be no holding back. There would be no judgments. The air would be so clean with love and forgiveness. Truth is, we really do all go through the same life stuff, don't we? Just different details. Just details. Let's begin to own up to everything (yes, just admit you ate the last scoop).<br />
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This whole process is the kind of service my heart longs for. It knows the truth of it all and I'm learning to ease those roadblocks away because the Light longs to shine and those blocks create way too much shade for me. Plus, I always start and stop around them and it’s very unnerving.<br />
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So Come on people! Will you join me in the Honesty March? Together we’ll stride through the un-roadblocked streets of life, being the Truth, honest through and through. Making a statement, a promise together that we'll live from our very Truth-core, and trust the perfection in it all. Really, how long do you want to stay in your same old story? (Ok, that was really for me. I cannot tell a lie).laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-3932693968015095702015-08-24T11:56:00.003-06:002015-08-24T11:56:38.031-06:00Little Fairy Wings.I'm at my friend Karen's house, typing on her office computer. I love this room! So much light coming through the big window, a great vibey space.<br />
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I just looked to my left out the window and outside there are the biggest widest leaves I've ever seen on this palm-tree type Cali plant. I mean, these leaves are HUGE. I honestly feel like I could get up on one of those leaves and slide on down like a Fairy in a Disney film into a delicious, pool of water. Splish splash, I am having a blast!<br />
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And wouldn't you know it that just yesterday by the pool, I saw this very same plant, just from another angle, and from much further away. It looked just as magestic, and proud and green. Nothing Fairy-ish came to mind but I did marvel at its beauty.<br />
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I am amazed by life: It never ever stops offering us opportunities to see from a different persepctive, to experience, and feel, and love, from all directions. Even in the familiar, there never ceases to be a way-in that's new.<br />
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I suppose it's our job to practice seeing with a sense of newness that we may not be accustomed to. To see with newness, we must practice slowing down, breathing, smiling.<br />
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Imagine how we'll all be noticing life in a new way when can feel our own hearts again. Because we are God's little Pixies, here to create and carry out our own little adventures - splish, splash, Cleaning off the little Fairy wings! They need to be sparklie and fresh because they are our transportation to Neverland, where the adventure lands, but never ever grows old and where every boy and girl is free to fly to and fro as the light, to the light. We can be like little fireflies flitting about by our little Fairy wings, seeing what's around each bend, smiling all the way.<br />
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Ahhh....I could get used to this.laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-45422792367909949652015-08-24T11:56:00.001-06:002015-08-24T11:56:10.181-06:00Newsworthy.I've been told that I bury my head in the sand when it comes to the news, world events, politics.<br />
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Yes, it's true, I don't watch TV or read the news. I have had good intentions of being in-the-know, turning on and tuning in, but then I lose my interest shortly after my re-entry. Actually, it's not just that I lose interest, my body and soul actually screams "STOP IT NOW!". It disturbs me from the core. Why is that?<br />
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Someone once told me that I just don't want to look at the dark sides of myself which are reflected in the day's reports. Ok, ok, I get it. The Shadow.<br />
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But could that be the whole reason?<br />
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I have a general feeling there is nothing new about the news. Nothing new, Ever. NEVER. In my opinion, it's just different places, different people, different advertisers, different outfits and hairstyles on the newscasters. Honestly - Can anyone actually argue the point that any given turn of events happening in 2010 did not ALSO happen in 1910, 1810, 1410, the year 10, just in a different shape, size, color?<br />
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From my perspective, the constants in all the world's events, since the beginning of time, are: Nature/God and People, and the interplay between them.<br />
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But Help! What do I do?? I have to be hip, current, able to discuss politics at cocktail parties. If I watch the news like everyone says I should, then what am I asking to be informed about? The same events that have been happening since the beginning of time? My own dark sides? My desire to get lost in other people's stuff? Am I procrastinating on making changes in my own life, and do I have a subconscious desire to be advertised to?<br />
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I do take total ownership for all my cynicism yet is it in the realm of possibility that if we all, and I mean we ALL, just stop watching the news? Like, make May "Don't Report to Me" Month. Then we could begin focusing on the changes and peace which, without a doubt, needs to occur within us (we always have inner work to do, right?). I'm guessing that if we all just pulled back from the drama for a short while, we could spend more time fortifying ourselves, our families, our communities.<br />
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Now THAT's what I'm talkin' about!!<br />
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Let's look inward, then outward in High Def. Create our own commercials, advertising us and our dreams, kind of like Mad Men but without the 10am whiskey and Lucky Strikes. Be our own anchor, forget the new hairstyle and show up for work in our old stretchy pants. Create stories of ourselves newsworthy to us, our community, the world. Go to the video tape play by play of a morning peace practice. Each day, create a 20-minute segment of what our own personal world looked like today. Create generous, creative and loving news that's worthy for all. Be live from a green field reporting the big news headlines of the day, like:<br />
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"Sun shining, didn't blow up at my spouse"<br />
"Ate dark chocolate, smiled at my neighbor"<br />
"Gave $3 to hungry man, called an old friend"<br />
"Started a women's group, got rid of jeans too tight for my butt"<br />
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Report your story on your own personalized teleprompter, Re-Write History, win an Emmy, Make your speech. Forget what those news people say, ignore what they report, until you feel ready and steady in your own personal and inward changes to be able to step out into the world and initiate change in your own community.<br />
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Turn off the news and turn on your life. YEAH! Make commercials that sell everyone on the idea of you, the changemaker. Smile wide at your new connection with Nature/God and people. Glow from the inside out. It'll be a whole new story. Now that's news I'm willing to watch.laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-10790438847210375572015-08-24T11:54:00.001-06:002015-08-24T11:54:58.794-06:00Wind in my branches.The wind has been furious these past few days. Its sound and movement truly frightens me, it always has. Branches are falling all around me, and then being wisked away with all sorts of other debris and soil, and the walls are creaking. Man, the whole thing is creepy.<br />
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This morning, we had no caf - coffee. Not my perfect scenario, but I took my cup 'o low-test and headed back under the covers, and with the shades pulled up I stared through the dewy window pane from my downright position, I began to think about the trees - does it hurt them, all that movement? When they lose their branches, do they feel any sort of -- anything?<br />
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The decaf was kicking in and I began to ponder life, and its movement. The breezy and sometimes harsh way it drifts and moves me, shakes me. Sometimes like a bay breeze, and sometimes like a hurricane. Sometimes leaving me stripped of all I've known, and sometimes letting me keep a little bud or two. Just like those trees outside (whether they know or feel a thing), with branches and even sometimes the trunk moving to and fro, I'm always rooted. Always. Let me say it again - I AM ALWAYS ROOTED. Not that I realize this truth as often as I'd like, but when I do, it truly shatters me in the best way.<br />
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With all the movement happening in &amp; around me, and in all the storms that rumble up through my belly and release out into the world, I can never be without my roots. Life hurts a lot, truly, and sometimes I have no idea what direction is THE direction, or Why I am the way I am, and why others are the way they are, or Why the world is what it is, and why I should trust the purpose and interconnectedness of everything, and what exactly IS the purpose? (I honestly think if I was caffeinated, I would be way too jacked up to think this pensively at 8am).<br />
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It's still really windy out there, but as I sit and share this marvel with you I can almost envision jumping up and into that windy force and going for a sweet little ride. For just this moment I can do that and I can remember home, my roots, my sense of grounding. Not so scary. So I'm off to sail with the wind in my branches, all the way around this wild place. Definitely stopping at the market on the way back, for real coffee of course. (there's just so much thinking a girl can do).laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-19787466880552691132015-08-24T11:53:00.003-06:002015-08-24T11:53:51.210-06:00Go where you're Fed (and let it be Free)Last night before a concert in Seattle, I was speaking with my friend Stefan. We were talking about cities in the U.S. and what could be a good place for a creative songwriter like me to live.<br />
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He said "go where you're fed".<br />
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Not " move to blah blah blah, it's an Awesome place!" or "go here, I know 5 dozen people there who will make you famous".</div>
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Go where I'm fed? Uggh. Of course, now a new handful of questions arise - What's feeding me? Who's feeding me? And where are they? What exactly DO I do and where will it be nourished? </div>
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But I know Stefan, and I'm most likely wasting some good brain and heart-space on questions. Because I bet his question was probably a little spiritual and philosophical and a nudge in my direction that I should go within. I think I need to let the idea of "go where you're fed" settle, spread out, find nooks and crannies and lodge itself to a place where it might grow a bit and discover itself. </div>
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What's ironic is that in recent months, I've come to a greater sense of who I am and what I want, but I'm completely <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">blank </span>when it comes to this "go where you're fed" thing. I'm now not even sure just <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">what </span>exactly in me desires feeding. </div>
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Let me add another little nugget - last night before I spoke with Stefan, my friend Erin posed this question: "what would you do in your life, even if you didn't get paid to do it?". </div>
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Are these two kidding me? </div>
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OK, the things that I'm doing now in my life, do I love them enough to do them for free?</div>
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What exactly AM I doing in my life? I don't know. And that's OK because all this question stuff is allowing me a turnaround opportunity. Sometimes in life, we do what we're doing and we never have the opportunity to stop, step back and view in. What are we doing? And are we really loving what we're doing? And are we living in a physical space and an emotional space that feeds us? And would we do it for free because it feeds our hearts so much? </div>
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Maybe I can start a list - a list of things I'd do for free because I love them so much I can't see straight. And when things start to get clearer, I bet I'll be led to the place that's feeding me.</div>
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What a meal that one will be. Yum. I'm ordering an appetizer.</div>
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laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-76975521695017427112015-08-24T11:53:00.001-06:002015-08-24T11:53:11.980-06:00Responsibility is Personal.<br />
I have been pondering the notion of "personal responsibility", taking just a moment each day to think about the things out there in the world that make me upset, things that trigger me and challenge my knowledge of fairness and equality, and - is it possible, could it be true, that what I see out there in the world is mirroring what's happening in here?<br />
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Thanks for coming to the party, blame and projection, but it's time for you to go. Here's some Advil and cab fare.<br />
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OK, so here's an example that came up for me yesterday, around this idea of "bringing it back to self":<br />
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ME: "Don't the Occupy rally attendees know that they contributed to the economic challenges we're now facing? That it's not just the wealthy folks and the banks that have created the imbalance? Don't they remember all the stuff they bought on their credit cards, stuff they couldn't afford, stuff that's now piled high in the garage? Didn't some of them buy big houses and borrow lots of money they knew they couldn't pay back?" (man, don't I sound mean.).<br />
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The new, SELF-DISCOVERED ME: Where in my life have I overspent, collected things to soothe my heart? Where have I lived outside my means? When in my life did I not take ownership of my thoughts, my actions and considered how they would affect others? Where have I felt deprived? Where have I defined myself by the #'s in my checkbook? Really???<br />
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This practice is not for the faint-of-heart. Self-reflection promises to magnify EVERYTHING in your life. It's very very good, but can be uncomfortable, painful, depressing, agitating. It's true, I mean, I'm uncomfortable just writing all this. Yet, I'm beginning to understand what an imperative step this type of process is not only for our own personal healing, but for collective healing of the world. And only through this process, I believe, will we then begin to see the world change for the better.<br />
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Imagine your life is plentiful, you are free from physical and emotional pain, you and all are forgiven, and there is no blame. Imagine our world where everyone is free, there is plenty for all, there is no pain, and there is no blame.<br />
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ME: Us and Them.<br />
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The NEW, SELF-DISCOVERED ME: ONE.<br />
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Yes, responsibility is personal. My eyes well, my joy swells, my spirit is well.laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-39379546845134387022015-08-24T11:52:00.001-06:002015-08-24T11:52:22.565-06:00I don't mean a thing, 'til I do.It's the end of January, 2013. I'm still detoxing from every dimension of the holiday season, yet there is the light. Literally. It's starting to get dark about an hour later now. This fills my body and mind with utter glee.<br />
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Some terrible things have happened - Newtown broke me harder than 9/11. Physically, my body, over the last 2 years or so, has been telling me in big aches and pains that it hasn't been happy with me. With a new album (yes, I said album) dropping (yes, I said dropping) in June, I am venturing out as a solo singer/songwriter for the first time in about 7 years. </div>
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I'm sad, and achy and scared sometimes, but I'm motivated now. Super motivated - but in a 'bucket-list' kind of way which scares the s**t out of me because it means I'm aware that I might actually drop dead tomorrow. </div>
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(sorry for the gloom and doom, it comes out every now and again)</div>
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I suppose I'm feeling the push of life telling me how timely it is now to begin really living it. Feeling my age creeping up, found gray hairs (I tucked them in, avoidance). And living on the left coast, with family on the right coast (NYC is always right in my book) so visits are more concentrated, more meaningful but not as frequent.</div>
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Oh wait, I bought my first pair of reading glasses! YAY.</div>
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So - with this new sense of awareness, illness, age and tragedy, there seems to be more presence now in my life. Well, I'm more present. I've actually had to slow down to about 1 mile per hour...my body won't allow anything faster. Everything has forced me into presence. However it had to happen, it happened and I'm glad it did.<br />
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Interesting that now, in the quiet, slow, intentional presence of my life, I haven't got a clue as to my next move. I mean, I have a general idea but I'm starting to wonder about my choices. Are they serving me? And do I know what it is I even want served? I suppose being perpetually anxious, sad, worried (you get the drift) was a not-so-sweet excuse for me to not listen to my inner voice. The inner voice that guides and loves, not the one that tells you that you're wrong, broken, worthless (you get the drift).</div>
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I'm not in midlife yet because I am convinced, unless I drop dead tomorrow, that I will live to 102 (that # feels really good to me for some reason). For sure, it's a crossroads where I'm at, and lately I've been really conscience of when and where I pause, when I move too quickly, when I stay stuck, what voice I'm answering to.</div>
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Trust and faith are making my heart beat faster and testing me so I can become steadier.</div>
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I usually don't mean a word I say, until now. See, my bucket list is requiring me to do every single thing I've ever said I wanted to do. #1 is a Tattoo, then to Maui, live on Upper West Side, sing on the Grammy's, open up for John Mayer (hey, I'm not limited!). From here on out, I mean everything I say and I mean to say things. I am also understanding that I mean everything - to me, and to others. I give meaning to my life and passions. As an aside, I'm also practicing NOT being mean - to me or others. ("you're not mean!" you say. oh yes, I can be.)</div>
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I mean every word when I say that yes, it's true, we humans can take just so much pain, sadness, illness, until we finally make a shift, or at least just recognize what is good in our life. I mean every word when I say that I'm a weepy mess when I think about the little girl that's me who's now in her 40...er, 30's...and what I may have missed in the decades so far, and people I may not have honored, and tasks I may not have completed. And how fast that little girl grew up. Then I'm a happy mess when I see the sun set later, when I sing a song that moves me and others, and when I feel our strength, the strength that takes us through the most tragic of times. I am happy when I remember to see the beautiful woman that little girl has become.</div>
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The reality is that we make real whatever it is our soul is calling for us. Woo-woo, maybe, but it means something. It really does. I am doing what I say now, holding myself accountable, sifting through the "shoulds", discovering who I am, taking care of me, breaking my own mold. I am noticing life, embodying this new self. I am here to be, and to do, and recognize how we all fit.</div>
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I am, and I really mean it this time.</div>
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laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523771836351624628.post-6243016597940759692015-08-24T11:51:00.004-06:002015-08-24T11:51:45.310-06:00Identity theft.I spent this past week cleaning out the linen closet.<br />
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Our linen closet doesn't just have linen-y stuff in it; over the years it's become a filing cabinet. A really disorganized, hanging-on-to-who-knows-what-from-the-80's filing cabinet.<br />
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Knowing that the closet contained years and years of financial and career history within pounds and pounds of paper was making me crazy. So I pulled every last bit out.<br />
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Holy crap.<br />
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Since we don't have a shredder, I've been sitting on the floor, being a shredder, if you will. And as I've been sitting, shredding, reflecting on who I was in 1998, or where I was in 2001 when I paid that Verizon bill, the thought occurred to me -<br />
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The reason I am shredding papers is because there are people out there who will steal your identity. They'll just take your name and info and try and benefit somehow from it.<br />
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Immediately I became much older and judgmental in my thoughts:<br />
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"What, they don't have anything better to do than to steal my identity? Good God, Get a job!".<br />
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And then I wondered about stealing identities, and how perhaps I may have done that a few times in my life - not stealing really, more like trying on another person's life.<br />
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Ex: What would it be like to be Katy Perry? Hmm...<br />
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Or, a six-figure Executive? Hmm...<br />
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Or a woman who is super confident and doesn't care what anyone thinks. (yes, I like this one in particular).<br />
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Then my pondering went further -<br />
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What about thinking we know another person? Is that like stealing someone's identity?<br />
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If someone subscribes to a certain political party, watches certain programming, or has a nose ring, or likes to wear suits, or steals gum from the Walgreens, or sunbathes naked, or believes a certain way about anything, or likes to spend or eat or sing a certain way - do we come up with our own identity stamp of who they are behind what they believe, do, say? Do we steal their identity away from them with our commentary, or ideas, or judgment placed on it?<br />
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I wonder about our world and I'm thinking it would be a much safer and sweeter place if we just kept our identities to ourself, and stop deciding who and what others are based on our own personal assumptions.<br />
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I suppose then the only thing left to steal would be savory moments from our own lives and enjoying the time we have left here. I can definitely identify with that.<br />
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Love in the form of Friday ponderings,<br />
XO Laura.<br />
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<br />laurabsingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14684859387517242978noreply@blogger.com0