The Sold Out Sh**t Show

Maybe you can relate?

Sold out: "I'm a sell out, a fake, who am I to offer anyone guidance? I'm as crazy as they come!"

And now for the Shit Show: 

I’m spiraling in the midst of something and I don’t f'ing know what it is. It’s a new era and an oh so old one. As if I’ve been suddenly transported back in time and now I want to do strange things like fall into bed with strangers followed by smoking cigarettes in bed.

 Normally I'd only scribble these dirty little secrets in my journal, where I keep my messy and my crazy locked up safe. I choose to write it here partially because I’m looking for penance, maybe to to punish my self with public humiliation (I don't do self flogging that well anymore) and the other part is just because it’s true.

I’m bored with self help gurus that make it shiny, squeaky clean, and tidy. That’s almost as obnoxious as those that say it's easy. “10 simple steps to inner peace”, true it’s simple, what it's NOT is easy!

Everyone who is on the human path of self healing and wholing deserves to hear about the time it didn’t work. Today is that day. I’ve felt it gurgling inside of me. It’s an inner unrest, a rebellion. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe its just having to do stuff I hate.  I don’t believe I should have to do shit I hate. It feels disgusting and inauthentic. If I’m an entrepreneur, it’s a choice I made having much to do with a burning desire to do what I choose, not what only what is expected of me. Anyway I digress, I muscle my way through it, with no real grace or know how until I’m about to run away. Then today it happens, I crack.

I let the noose of reality slip thru my fingers. I release the hard work of being present and I become someone else. This someone I become is well…perfect of course. She has it all and is just basking in the fruits of my imagination. This the first sign trouble is really brewing. At this point I know I’m falling of the cliff and am not sure how to pull my parachute. There are several paths of destruction that might follow this inner collapse.

As I write the thoughts reorganize themselves. My inner Hitler whose been trying to send me to the gas chambers for my shadow even existing, has lost his blow horn of contempt. Now some of the other parts of me can be heard.

The very act of admitting: "this is where I am and it sucks", disarms him.

What is true for me is that even in this funk, this relapse of sorts, there is an obvious evolution. What I now perceive to be the depths of inner personal hell, was at one time my norm. When I knew no center, and relied solely upon my vices and constant distractions to tolerate, and just get through each day, I have perspective now. Even my worst day now is better than my best days then.

A friend of mine referred to one of her stages of healing from her eating disorder as being a “dry bulimic”. I so get that!

The artist Ani Difranco poses a brilliant question in one of her songs,

“And they say that alcoholics are always alcoholics

Even when they're as dry as my lips for years

Even when they're stranded on a small desert island

With no place within 2,000 miles to buy beer”

Is it really that impossible to heal? Feels that way at times.

Stage 1: On these worst days when I check out, I give in to the fantasy of inhabiting another’s body, her life, and I use all my imagination to create for her/me a most hospitable existence of ease. 

Stage 2: I revert to a state of dry bulimia. It takes a certain amount of will power to NOT throw myself head first into a tub of Ben and Jerry’s, and then into the toilet. It takes will power to avoid a slew of other shadow behaviors that once ruled me. Yes, today at 41 yrs old, some days like today I just want to take ecstasy, rip all my clothes off, have riotous sex with people at random, masturbate to shocking porn all day, shoplift, smoke a pack of American Spirits, do a couple lines,  drive off leaving obligation, my calendar, and anything remotely resembling a duty in the dust! (TMI?)

The difference today is that I watch myself entertain these notions and relive old memories. While I’m not exactly present, I’m still able to observe myself. There is space between my thoughts, impulses, and actions. In these shadowy times of being a “Dry bulimic”, the pattern is activated; the difference is I am now in choice! 

These days come rarely now, and they leave quickly. (Apparently there is something to this path of personal growth after all.)

Maybe I'm not a sell out, maybe I'm just another human.  On this grand stage of life I'm gonna say it like it is and every once in awhile I'll show the world my shit.

Tears wrote this

When I finish all this work, then I'll be done! My reward for the gruels of introspection and self discipline will be a sweet tidy life. Set the cruise control, take the top down, but let the winds of change blow through someone else's hair.

Let's call that the mutha of all myths!

Or what about this one?

"Because I'm having a home birth, not circumcising, breast feeding forever, having family bed, no TV, waldorf educating, and enacting all other attachment parenting charms, my kid won't be like THAT!"

Reality is a ruthless bitch sometimes.

I'm sick in bed today, mourning the last shred of mothering innocence I had intact. The sweet pouty lipped cherub that loved me so freely has left the nest. With no graceful exit might I add. 
He's 16. He quit school. It's been 3 weeks.

There's a storm that stirs within me. I collapse into a heap of hysterical sobbing and self blame. The dismantling of expectations, pride, hope, illusion leaves me raw open and empty.

 I write to stay sane. I write to see the contents of my head and heart spilled across pages, only then can I sort through the mess of it all. 


I meditate to plug back into my center. to calm the waters of my being, to remember who I Am.

I feel the emotions rise up and I sense them in my body. 
Blame: I sense the contraction, tugging, sharp, prickly, cold burn in my upper abdomen. 
Grief: I sense the shredding jagged piercing hollow ache blood drained void around my heart.

I ask is this okay? I feel quiet. I sense warmth and steadiness radiating out of my center. This is my body's YES. "Yes, it's okay."

My mind wants to argue and fault find. It damns me and my boy. But my body, she speaks only truth. The truth she tells me, is it's okay. We're all okay. *Sigh*

I'm weary, yet safe at home in my body. I have sacred work to do. This is sacred work, this healing and just  being with what is. I'm doing this not only for myself, but for all mothers and all pissed off rebellious teenagers. 

This too will pass. Just like me, he's not finished... 

I'd be lying if I didn't let my tears flow as I mourn the younger simpler years. Underneath the armor and attitude I hope some part of him can still hear me singing these words to him (click on link below.)
                         
Kai Lanny Jeshua this is my mama love song to you still

What she really looks like! (Guest blogger Fit Mama!)

http://fitmamatraining.com/what-i-really-look-like-a-perfectly-healthy-body-in-more-and-less-flattering-photos/

The longing is the Answer ~ Rumi

I heard a story that has stayed with me for many years. I’ve adapted it to fit my need, to make sense of my own longing, my craving.

Is it okay if I tell you a story?

Once upon a time there was Goddess. She was creative, kind, and intelligent beyond measure.

 This Goddess had a God she loved, and adored. His strength, vision, and fortitude were comparable only to her love, devotion and compassion.

Out of their many qualities of being, they shared a spectacular sense of humor and never took themselves too seriously.

This showed up in the pranks they pulled, games played, jokes told, and bets that were made, all for amusement sake.

One day the Goddess challenged God with a wager to trump all wagers!  It went something like this: Would God in his infinite wisdom, power and knowing agree to disperse himself into tiny bits all through out the whole Earth? Would he be brave enough to forget his own identity?

 She bet he could not collect and reassemble all the pieces of himself to remember who he was. But God, being God, agreed to it.

It was in this gamble humanity was born. Tiny God pieces were spread about the Earth in the form of people.

As God had abandoned the memory of himself, so he also forgot his beloved, the Goddess.

She looked after the humans (all she had left of her God) bestowing her compassion, tenderness and nurturing on them. Hoping that her love would awaken God and he would return to her, whole again.

The people built temples and worshipped her; they held festivals and ceremonies in her honor, yet still they did not remember who THEY were.

 In time she grew  weary.  She became unresponsive and so the people turned their backs on her. They became angry and the love that was once in their hearts was muted by bitterness and greed. The people created a new god in this image, and angry jealous god. They worshipped him through war and dominion.

Without love or attention, her broken heart too lost faith that either of them had ever existed. She became only a faint murmur without an echo reflecting back.

So it is today that we are still ambling in the darkness of our own wager, the butt of our own joke. There is one thing alone that lights the way. It is our longing, our craving to know ourselves, to remember. That deep desire and ache to come home.

As we acknowledge that craving, we awaken to the myth of reality. We look into the eyes of those around us and see a familiar flicker. Divine nostalgia sweeps through us. God remembers a bit of himself. God is waking up again. As he remembers himself, he identifies another longing, a passionate craving and memory of his lover, the Goddess.

 This recollection affirms her existence back into being. As she emerges so does compassion and tenderness. Bit by bit we remember what it means to love. We agree to care for the sick, feed the hungry, maybe even to love our enemy as we love ourselves.  After all what could be so noble, or more godly?

This story does not end with “And they lived happily ever after” for that would close the loop, robbing us of free will and the mystery! Let this story ripple thru your own waters, stirring the perfectly good questions that need no answers.

We all have our Creation stories. I like this one.

Namaste. The light in me recognizes and honors the light in you!

When the wild woman wakes!

Oh my, I found her. I had forgotten all about her. 

I had to be in sick in a beach front bed in Troncones, Mexico to find her. My dreams came lucid and lurid repeating themselves and tormenting me with shadows that day.

In between dreams and coughing fits I frantically scribbled words that seemed like nonsense, but willful in their urgency to find paper. 

For months I'd been aching, longing for something more. My foundation was shifting and what satiated me this last decade now left me parched. 

Some of you have known me through the decades. You may remember the wild child I was. I've got so many compliments on the ways I've tamed myself, settled down, became trustworthy and reliable. It's true, I'm on time now. I call people back. I rarely find myself roaming hillsides basking in a psychedelic glow anymore. A lot of that feels good. And yet there has been a compromise. That day of sickness and the torrent of dreams roused my inner wild woman out of her slumber. She felt like a cool salve on the burning skin of my longing I've had for more. The inspecting, blaming, and second guessing I've done in every domain of my life brought no answers only judgements. Without logic or expectation she invited me to lay on the beach at night, sing to the stars, and remember the soft animal of my being. So I did.

It's a homecoming, that whispers of full moons, fires, dirt under fingernails, and tangled hair. 

The morning after I met my friend Ignacio on the beach. I asked to see the jewelry he makes. I wanted to buy a ring to honor this part of me. One ring picked me. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen. I asked him how much. He told me, "Keep it. It is your ring." 

Tonight  is the full moon. I'm back in Washington, it's cool and wet. It's a beautiful night for a welcome back ritual!

One Billion Rising! Where Will You Be Dancing?

Thank you Eve Ensler for giving the work of Vividly Woman and so many others a global voice and sending out this call to action! Our Dance Matters!

Find out how your dance can make a difference:

Vividly Woman Dance For Darfur

One Billion Rising Nia Dance Event

Other Seattle OBR Events

12 reasons every woman needs a tribe! by Tara Wagner

12 Reasons We Women Need Our Tribes

1. We are inherently tribal. – We use to live in cultures where the women raised babies together, did laundry together, cooked together, and helped each other laugh through the ups and downs of life. We have evolved to be inter-dependent. It’s only in the last few decades that we’ve held up that fierce independence as the epitome of a strong woman. Well, if alone against the world is what makes you a great women, count me out. I’d rather feel great, than only look it.


2. Your partner can’t be everything. – I used to lean on Justin for everything. It was a real bitch when we had a fight and he was the only person I had to talk to about it. For awhile there I even thought it wasn’t okay to talk to other women about our challenges. And in a way I still find that true; I don’t want a tribe that will help me complain about him. I want a tribe that will help me examine my triggers and overcome any barrier that keeps us from loving one another better. I also came to find that it was simply unfair to him to place every stress on his shoulders. He’s one man, who wants very hard to fix as much as he an to make my smile, and without more support in my life my husband was becoming heavy with the burden of being the only person I would turn to help me meet my deeper needs for connection, growth, fun, or help.


3. Your kids need a break from you. – Oh man, am I serious about this one. Especially because my son is an only child. Without my tribe of conscious mamas, from both local parenting groups with like-minded philosophies on life and parenting, to online tribes, to coaches who have helped me through rough spots, I’m pretty sure my son and I owe our relationship to the support I found in others. Without it I was constantly examining and analyzing every action my son took, worrying that I was doing something wrong (or he was), or just not giving him the space to just breathe, explore independently, or make his own choices without my fear trying to micro-manage, nag, control or stress him out. Having other mamas helped me to put things in perspective, lighten up and be a better mom more capable of responding to his needs with compassion and support.


4. You are the average of the 5 people you spend the most time with. – You want to radically change your life? Surround yourself with examples that it’s possible. You want to live a deeper, more meaningful existence? Engage in deeper, more meaningful conversations with the people talking about deeper more meaningful things. Don’t let the limitations of what those around you can do become your reality. Seek out possibilities, surround yourself with inspiration, and what seemed impossible will soon become the only thing you know.


5. Girls just wanna have fun. – Life gives us plenty of opportunity for stress, heartache, overwhelm or depression. It’s our job to counter those things with laughter, fun, and connection. Have you ever had a terrible day and called a girlfriend and you both ended up laughing at the utter ridiculousness of it all? Suddenly what you thought was going to do you in is not so bad when our tribe helps us to play and lighten up. And fun is a damn important thing in life. We have enough seriousness. We need more fun.


6. You need people who won’t let you off the hook. – I didn’t use to see this was true about myself. I’ve always thought I was pretty self-motivated. Until my tribe called me on my bullshit and helped me to see how I was giving up, playing small or rationalizing away my dreams. Because I allowed others to know what my real desires were – what my heart ached for – they were there to call attention to the ways I was neglecting them. It was not a pretty mirror they held up but it was a much needed view hat helped me to confront my real barriers and catapult right past them.


7. You need a safe place to land. – The world can be harsh. Have one terrible day and you could end up on YouTube being bashed by millions of people. Make a mistake and you probably have learned to do the bashing yourself. But the right tribe of women will open up a safe and sacred space for you to bring your cracked and weeping heart. They will wrap you in compassion ad stillness and allow you to breathe and vent and process without judgment. They give you the nurturing and the encouragement to heal and grow and move forward again. I can’t tell you how powerful it is to know that a circle of women, some whom you haven’t even met, are waiting with open arms, whether you’re having a horrible day or your life has just been shattered.


8. You can’t see your own blind spots. – I’ve already mentioned a few times how the tribes of women in my life will call my on my shit. And sometimes it really pisses me off. But without their intuitive ability to hold up that mirror to what I can’t see I would still be spinning my wheels in frustration over the patterns I couldn’t change. With the multiple perspectives and the collective wisdom a tribe of soulful, conscious women can be a catalyst for the most powerful personal growth.


9. You’re can’t jump over buildings in a single bound. – Or any of the other impossible things we try to do on our own. You’re not Superwoman. You’re not a one woman roadshow. Stop trying to be perfect and infallible and so great that you never need anything. You! Need! Support!: practical, emotional, spiritual support. Whether you’ve just had a baby, or you are struggling with food, or you’re trying to manage a household, love a family, and run a business, for the love of all that is good in the world, ask for support. Trade support. Pay for support. You’re worth the investment.


10. You’re going to drive yourself batshit crazy unless you do something for you once in awhile. – Nuff’ Said.


11. You can’t give what you don’t allow yourself to receive. – This was my Aha moment when it came to receiving support. I can NOT give it if I don’t fist have it. And it’s no one else’s job to know when I need it, or how I’d like to receive it. It’s my job to seek out the things that will meet my needs in such a way that I feel so filled up with love, energy, connection, passion, and everything else I might need that I am overflowing that back out to my family, my clients and the whole world.


12. You deserve to receive a lot. – Women tend to have this idea that it’s great for other women to receive, “but oh no, not me.” “I couldn’t possibly take that from you.” “I can’t justify that for myself.” “I’d be selfish.” No. You won’t be selfish. You’re selfish when you continue to try to meet your needs in ways that aren’t effective. It wastes your time, energy, money, and capabilities. And you’re never helping others. But investing well in your own health, well-being, personal growth, mental clarity, stability and ability to do more in the world is anything but selfish. It’s imperative.

By Tara Wagner, "the organic sister"