The Gurly Life

Deep thoughts

(ish)

Sometimes, I have thoughts. Usually, I have them while I'm driving. Some of my best ideas came to me while I was driving. Which of course means that if I ever manage to become not-a-slave-to-my-car, I might become an ordinary human being instead of the brilliant one I am now. Eh hem. Which is also not to say that this is one of the good thoughts.

I was listening to classical music on the radio, specifically a violin concerto by Bach - in my opinion, a divine piece. That got me thinking, is the wonder that is music evidence that an intelligent higher power exists? Because that would seem like a very obvious expression of divinity and higher power. Then it occurred to me that beautiful music is a point of view, not an absolute. Our most beautiful music might be complete cacophony to, say, an advanced alien civilization. Heck, to the uninitiated, Chinese opera feels like someone is scratching your eyes out with their toes, so we don't even need to as far as another galaxy.

It occurred to me that all the things that sometimes are touted as evidence (I use the term loosely) of a higher power may not be as divine and amazing as we think they are. For example, the complexity of the biodiversity on our planet (which we're quickly destroying, like the locusts that we are ) may not be that complex at all in the grand scheme of things. Maybe the complexity of the known universe is just what's so, and its extraordinariness is simply our small brain's inability to fully grasp it?

I don't care if you read this

Have you ever noticed how when you get really invested in something, it sometimes doesn't work out? For me, it's because I get significant about it and then I get all weird and try too hard, and then obviously blah.

So it is with this blog. For reasons that are too boring to go into here, I lost my mojo for a long time. Over a year, actually. Oh yes. It's true. No, no, it's true. I would get inspired every now and then, and then blah again. I thought, well, I guess I have nothing more to say. It's like reaching the end of the internet, or the Spanish Inquisition - no one actually expects it.

I considered for a while shutting down the blog. Maybe starting a new one, a totally anonymous one, so that if I write a post about my vagina, for example, I don't have to worry about my boss being embarrassed, being fired, or never hired by anyone again. Not that I write many posts about my vagina, I think I did that one time (this one doesn't count), but still! I want the artistic freedom, damnit, the Founders owe it to me.

Considering that I'm not sure which of my friends (I think there's a few who occasionally read a post, and a couple who read almost everything) and family (my mom and dad, and that's pretty much it) even read this anymore, and that it was intended to keep them updated on what I'm doing, I wasn't sure if I should continue.

Then I realized I wasn't just blogging for the fun of it anymore, but for readership. I was all, I wish I was a good enough or funny enough writer to have a wider audience. Moan, groan, blah blah vampire emergency blah (just checking to see if you're paying attention). So stressful to write a post and have 3 people read it.

To sum up: no readers, not fun to write. What's the point?

The point is that I like to write my stupid little posts. Sometimes I say something that reaches someone, and that's awesome. And often I don't, I just have mediocre thoughts that I express in a mildly amusing way. Occasionally I hit the jackpot and write a good post.

Occasionally, someone will tell me they read the blog and enjoy it, and then I'm chuffed for a month. Seriously, every reader, every comment, is like a little diamond in my mailbox.

So I continue with my little blog, for no reason at all other than it's fun for me. If no one reads, so be it -- it will just be fodder in the public domain to bring me down one day when I am feeling a smidge too arrogant. But if you do read it, know that you contribute to my creative expression. Thanks for that.

Some deep(ish) thoughts on my birthday

Today I was listening to the podcast from Krista Tippett's ON BEING, and in particular I was listening to her interview with Richard Davidson. The blurb from the show says this:  

Once upon a time we assumed the brain stops developing when we're young. Neuroscientist Richard Davidson helped overturn this idea by studying the brains of meditating Buddhist monks. Now he's working on conditions like ADHD and autism. He focuses not on fixing what is wrong, but on rewiring our minds with life-enriching behaviors.

It's a very interesting interview because Davidson talks about cultivating kindness and compassion, and what that does to the brain of a person, as well as the effects of meditation. Rather than focusing on eradicating the negative mindsets, he focuses on cultivatin the positive ones.It reminds me a little bit of the law of attraction, that what you focus on is what shows up in your life, either positive or negative.

I also wonder, what is the line between positive thinking, and what is commonly referred to as a Pollyanna-ish view of life? Is this even a question worth asking? This is a fascinating podcast that I strongly recommend, especially if you subscribe to the notion that word creates world, in other words, that what we say creates our reality, how we perceive and experience the world. I am 100% convinced that this is so. Other than the basic reality of physical objects, I am more and more certain that the conscious shaping of our toughts, the words we speak, what we focus on, gives us how our lives turn out, irrespective of circumstances. In many cases, even circumstances are shaped by who we're being and what we say.

Of course, there is a difference between a positive mindset and faking it. The first will get you through the hard times, the second will just make things worse for you.

Which just reminds me that life is damn good. And that all those workshops at Landmark Education and all the transformational work I have done, and continue to do, were worth every second of time invested in them.

Enjoy!

You cannot beat this

Monday, July 11, is my birthday.

At long last, another breakthrough

I know you've all been wondering: where have those posts gone, the ones where I have some epiphany about myself, and then write about it like I have no sense of decency?

After years of Landmark Education and PAX Programs and various other personal growth stuff, I think I sorted through most of the shittiest stuff. I don't mean to suggest I couldn't use some improvements, the remodeling never really ends, but the focus has shifted from lifting barriers to building skills that I either don't have, or want to improve.

Naturally, as I build skills, I come across a few barriers. After all, if I didn't have the barriers, I'd already have the skills, right?

So here's a really juicy one. I don't like to admit this one because it makes me look very bad, and I don't like to look very bad - just bad enough to be interesting. This has been brewing for a few weeks, and it's probably rambly.

As you know, I have specifically been doing a lot of work in the relationships realm. My goal is to (one day while I'm still young enough to chew my own food) be in a relationship that is empowering and fulfilling. Much of the work I've done in the last few years has been to that goal. In the recent past, my focus has shifted away from my own individual stuff to partnership. I've been looking at what partnership skills do I need, would I like to have, and so on, especially since partnership skills translate really well in every area of life. I figured even if I have no romantic partnership, I still have friends, family, work, neighbors, and so on. Can't hurt, right?

Of course, though, the focus is relationships.

Imagine if you will the setting: it is early evening in Los Feliz, I am going for a brisk walk in the neighborhood, enjoying nature and listening to music on my iPod. I'm feelin' pretty special, with all my partnership skills, and I'm all, check me out I'm totally fabulous, that's me, yup, yup (nevermind that I'm still single, don't use facts to confuse the issues, please, you know how I hate that).

I'm bouncing along thinking about how great I am (this is always a red flag) and how superior I am to all those other women, poor dears, who are actually in relationships that work, and it suddenly hits me, like a turd between the eyes: that I'm often calibrating who I am in order to catch the right guy (not just any guy, mind you, the right one, whatever the heck that means). I suddenly noticed how I watch myself when I interact with men to see if I'm doing it right. And really, what it comes down to is that I haven't been doing all this personal growth stuff to be a better person, but to manipulate the right guy, when I find him, into being with me, because I'm so awesome. Urgh.

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing inherently sleazy about proactively looking for a partner -- it's just that there was something, I don't know, weaselly about how I've been doing it. It's hard to explain, though as you read this you might be thinking, yeah I see it too, but the place I was standing to set my intention was a crappy place. It was like putting ice cream on poo and trying to sell it like a delicious banana split. No, that's not poo, it's chocolate. NOT delicious.

So I walked along a bit more, and thought to myself, what if I do all that I'm doing for no reason at all, just because that's who I am and being a good person is important to me? What a fucking idea!

But that's not all. What also became evident is why I have in the past (thankfully not anymore) been a magnet for married guys. It's a mechanism that I had sort of identified, it had to do with how I engage with men (obviously!), but I hadn't seen the mechanism's agenda. And while I was on my walk, I saw it, and recoiled at the ugliness of it all. Thankfully, it was night, no one could see the grimace on my face, or the gagging. What causes that shift in who I'm being that attracts married men is a voice in my head that says that I want that man to risk something for me, because that means I'm worth something.

What. The fuck. Is that?????

Until I saw that, the best I could is notice when a married guy would start being interested, and bring down the shutters. Not a very empowering defense mechanism, by the way, I don't recommend it. Now I can see it before it even begins. I can hear the voice in my head like I'm some schizo patient off her meds, and I can feel my body shift and my face take on a different expression, it's really weird and creepy. Sooo gross.

All this I saw several weeks before I even left for vacation. I think it was some time in March or April. The first thing that happened was that the emotional charge in the realm of relationships fell away. All of a sudden, I wasn't emotionally invested in getting a relationship. For several weeks, I just didn't care at all about this part of my life. At. All. I forgot to get online to check my profile for weeks at a time, and when I did remember and found no messages from anyone, I'd think, meh, I have to work on my profile anyway, whatever.

Since then I have been noticing immediately when "the married man bomb" activates and have been easily able to disarm it. Over time it is activating less and less and has almost disappeared.

So ... yikes, right?

Now that I've settled, and the married guy issue is disappearing, I'm back doing my work on partnership, and still looking for an awesome guy, sans frustration and disappointment. Thus far, no flopping between white-knuckling it and giving up in resignation.

Now I can get back to the business of playing with my camera, preparing my Guide to Egypt: A Pictorial Representation, and standing on my head for 5 minutes at a time.

Life is good.

A sniggly snag that worked out

Sometimes, things that appear to be a huge pain the ass, things that are conspiring to ruin your whole entire vacation, turn out to be ok, maybe even blessings in disguise. Sometimes, clouds turn out to be the silver lining.

I explain.

My upcoming trip to Europe and Egypt has been planned to the last minute. Planes were booked, people were mobilized, everything was set. Then the Egypt people, 2 weeks before the Egypt trip (it's a Nile cruise from Luxor to Cairo) said, oh sorry, the boat has been cancelled (?) but you can go on another boat on different dates.

I was all, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WITH THIS SHIT? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY MONTHS AHEAD OF TIME I HAD TO PLAN TO MAKE THIS ALL WORK? Grrrr. [shakes fist angrily]

One of the dates the Egypt people suggested could not work because I would have had to move my return trip, and that was not possible (per the airline, who almost laughed at me when I asked, but were too polite to actually physically guffaw).

The original plan was: London, Barcelona, Egypt, fly home. Hang out with cousin on dad's side Raffy and her family in London, then hang out with cousin on mom's side Giuseppe and a couple of other cousins in Barcelona, then Egypt with my dad. The new plan basically messed up Barcelona. I huffed and puffed and declared I was pissed, but then decided that Barcelona had to eat it.

Instead, the new plan looks like this: London (and I get an extra day there), Egypt with dad, Sicily with cousins and other family members over Giuseppe's birthday weekend. In this scenario, I get to see not just my cousins who were getting together in Barcelona, but also aunts and uncles and my very old grandmother -- 105 and counting.

So one plan was scrapped, at some inconvenience and expense to me and my dad, as it turned out, but another plan was put in place that ensures that I see more of my family. Perhaps the universe doesn't give a shit about my money and convenience, but demands that I go hang out with my family.

Who am I to argue?

Machu Picchu? Really?

Or: Well, that just bloody figures.

A few weeks ago, my good friend Ms. Ranty Pants suggested we enter a drawing by these fine people, Global Base Camps, for a 4 day Inca Trail trek to Machu Picchu in Peru. I never win much of anything, so as a lark, I said, sure, let's enter.

I had a niggling feeling that it was very likely one of us would win because neither one of us is even remotely equipped to undertake such a trip. By not equipped, I mean that with hip injuries, SI joint stuff, and back issues, we are barely one healthy person between us. I shrugged it off and thought no more of it. We both have hip issues, and we're not the roughing it types (don't deny it, Ms. Pants) - left to our own devices, this is not perhaps the trip we would organize for ourselves. I distinctly remember saying, as we giggled on Facebook, watch how we're going to win this thing because we so would just die on the trail. I mean, seriously, I get excited when I can hike for 2 hours without collapsing in pain in Griffith Park, trekking across the Andes was not even a glimmer in the apple of my eye.

I further point out that Machu Pichu hikers have oxygen bottles with them. OXYGEN, PEOPLE, OXYGEN! Yeah. I mean, it's only 8,000 feet in altitude, so I'm thinking it's a precaution rather than a necessity. Cusco, however, where we start, is at 11,000+ feet, so that's a little trickier.

I think you know where this is going. Apparently, I won said trek. Natch, I'm going, and I'm dragging Ms. Pants - I immediately called her and told her so. If I go down, I'm taking her down with me (linky to her perspective on this madness). This is going to be a tale of overcoming hardship - the two "disabled" ladies make it to Machu Picchu, and strike it off their bucket list. Incidentally, it's not even on my bucket list, but whatever. In light of the photo ops that this presents, we'll be going, even if we have to strap on one of those newfangled exoskeletons to get us up that mountain.

Of course there's a small part of me that thinks this is a scam of some sort, but it so absurd and ironic that it can only be legit. I will of course do my due diligence, my hopes having been dashed of being alternatively a Nigerian princess who inherits vast sums of money, or being trusted by one and the only human on the planet who can save her and her inheritance. I thus approach windfalls with a leery eye.

The tour includes [my comments/questions are in square brackets, in case the sheer stupidity is not enough to tip you off]

Camping Equipment: spacious North Face [<--merchandising!] tents, dining tent, toilet tent [a. I should bloody hope so, b. toilet paper will be provided, yes?] tables and chairs, oxygen bottle [wait - what?] and cooking equipment [which, presumably, I will not need to use - see below]. Trekkers need only bring sleeping bags. A licensed, well-trained, English-speaking guide, who visits the clients the evening before departure to explain the trek and answer any questions [my question: is the guide coming with us, or just visiting us the night before and then is all, see ya, suckers!?] Chef and Assistant Chef [because what if the Chef twists an ankle? Who would cook? Not me!] preparing healthy, hearty meals cooked with fresh, local ingredients. Well-paid and well-treated porters [ohmygod porters! How colonial, I love it. No, really, I love it - I don't like carrying things]. We supply the appropriate duffel for you to pack and them to carry [again: LOVE IT]. You carry only a light daypack [my purse probably weighs more than this daypack they speak of]. [One last question: what's the shower situation?]

I am compelled to point out how much I do not like to travel, and how somehow the universe is insisting that I travel. I mean, I love visiting new places, but the actual traveling, with the suitcase and the food issues, and those god-awful plane rides, I do not like. Yet somehow I am always traveling. Either visiting friends or family, or being treated to an awesome Egypt trip by my dad (and it's awesome, wait till you hear about it), or planning a trip to Turkey with Ms. Pants, or being dragged up an Andean mountain kicking and screaming.

I'm a lucky bastard.

I survived Valentine's Day

Actually, I made out like a bandit.

As I mentioned in a rather popular Facebook update, it was difficult to keep my grumpy pants on when I was surrounded by great people who sincerely wished me a happy Valentine's Day. Ok, the update was popular because I said I was pantless, but that's besides the point. Don't get me wrong, I am not a fan of V Day or ever will be. What I am a fan of is people. And when people bounce into my office wishing me a happy V Day with a big silly grin on their face, and give me cards like this one:

and by the way, the card is giant, it reaches up to my knees. Which I did not include in this photo.

and Cat-A-Pults (look it up) that they picked up in a little store somewhere while off on a romatic weekend that had nothing to do with me but then they saw this thing and thought of me and here it is, well, how can I resist? How can I resist when a good friend who was itching to get me a card and flowers resisted the temptation because he knew I wanted to do things my way? I can't. I have to surrender. Have. To.

Here are some pics of Maliboo Kitty with the Cat-A-Pult.*

Maybe it was all the photo taking (sorry, ma, we're not done yet) that dragged me into the loooove mood, kicking and screaming, or maybe it was the actual love, but this was definitely the most enjoyable V Day ever.

* If you're still wondering what in the heck a Cat-A-Pult is, it's a toy with rubber arms that you can fling across the room, and it meows as it hits the floor. It's a very loud, annoying meow. Someone in my office took it to babysit it, and I had to retrieve shortly thereafter because she was annoying the whole office. Eh hem.

The cuteness continues

Today I had a lovely day. I spent a couple of hours doing Iyengar yoga at the Iyengar Yoga Institute Los Angeles (awesome yoga studio in a crappy and weird building). One of my teachers is taking a harrowing exam next weekend to move up a level, and she and a fellow teacher each had a mock session with a few of us as willing guinea pigs. We got two hours of free yoga, which included a bunch of difficult poses and we were upside down quite a bit. I had a great time, and will probably have sore muscles tomorrow. Yay.

Then I met my friends Katie and Greg, and their new baby Madeline, who is about 2 months old and a totally laid back awesome baby. I got to hold her and she didn't scream or poop or vomit or anything.

For the record, the hairy arms are not mine, they're Greg's. I'm the one taking the picture.

We could not for the life of us get Madeline to look at the camera. Notice how chilled out I look, it's because I had just spent a bunch of time upside down. I have noticed that back bends increase happiness, but inversions tend to dump out a lot of negative thoughts. It's hard to focus on my chickenshit problems when I'm trying not to fall down and break my neck in 10 places, I've noticed. Not that I'm likely to, at this point, but you know what I mean.

You might also notice the interesting hair, a direct result of being upside down a lot.

Madeline was all dressed up in her cute little Christmas outfit because she went to see Santa before I got to see her. Check out the awesome shoes! Don't you wish you had shoes like that?

Three weddings and a funeral

Yeah. MY funeral.

Ok, I exaggerate, I admit it. But since there is no pictorial representation (stop pressuring me!!!), I have to get creative. More pictorial representations will come soon, but for now there are words, words, WORDS!

As I recently mentioned, I have had a lot going on. A lot. So here's a recap of what went on this weekend.

1. Dating and such, i.e., 3 weddings

A few months ago I made the decision not to blog about specific dates and men much because having the blog as a background made it more interesting for me to be on bad dates than on good ones. Be careful what you ask for and all that.

I am still doing lots of personal growth work in this area, it just never seems to end. That I can talk about in more detail.

To the point: this weekend I went on 3 dates with 3 different men. One of these guys was Bob, who I've mentioned before. And yes, he's aware of my other dates and being a very cool and generous guy he thinks it's great that I date, thankyouverymuch.

All three men are terrific, and it is the first time in a long time (ever?) that I'm not operating from scarcity. The point being that I recently managed to dislodge yet another crummy belief about me and relationships that had been stuck like a barnacle on the ass of my fabulousness. I know, vivid, right?

The barnacle was that single men my age are not interested in me (and the flip side of that, which is that only unavailable men are interested). What strikes me about this little nugget of joy is that it is VERY specific. Mmh. I have been forced to give up the more generic "men are not interested in me" because it so obviously isn't true as to be bordering on insanity. So I went more specific, this way I got to keep it. Sweet.

I was doing an exercise from Calling In The One (see the What I'm Reading list in the right panel), and I had to look at what I get out of keeping certain beliefs, and being single. This is not the first time I have looked at this question, but I haven't looked at it in a significant amount of time. I've uncovered all kinds of crap since, so it's not too surprising that the inquiry was almost a new one for me. What I saw was that I get to be safe. Because as much as it frustrates me to be constantly circled by unavailable men, and sometimes pains me, there is really no chance that I will really, truly put myself at risk with any of them. Even if I want to (or say that I want to, because really, I don't), they make sure I get shut down. So then I'm all mopey and hurt, but safe.

Even if I find a great guy, I soon find something about him that I cannot possibly put up with so I can continue to complain about how there are no great guys, and the great guys don't like me, blah blah blah. And on it goes.

It's very likely that I've seen this before, and shared it before, but this time it hit me like a ton of bricks. I proceeded to call myself a lot of names, including a fucking liar. Don't worry, it wasn't one of those woe is me kind of things. It was like looking for my keys for hours and they were on the table the whole time, in plain sight, and I wasted all this time being blind. Like that.

I also noticed I do something sneaky to men who are available: just as we get close and all is going well, I drop-kick them. It's not a very obvious thing, because I'm somewhat subtle about it, but that's what I do. That way, I get to push them away first and I get to be right about how I'm not important or unwanted or unlovable, or whatever the self-flagellation of the moment is.

But it's not over. I then got to see how when I'm found out, I have an overwhelming sense that I need to walk from this relationship. I make up excuses like, who is this person to point out that I do such and such? How dare they? Pshaw! What is underneath this is that I'm very invested in looking good and doing it right, and I'm unwilling to be human and imperfect, i.e., look bad. In other words, I'm unwilling to be vulnerable. So rather than simply address the issue, I walk.

Wow, right? I mean, what a fucking racket. I mean, this is like trying to surf the entire internet - it can't be done, you don't get to the end of the internet. You just keep finding interesting stuff and thank goodness for the internet.

And all of a sudden, I get more interest from single and available men in one week than I've had for the past 7 years (I exaggerate, but really, not that much - ask Deirdre, she'll confirm).

We shall see what comes of this.

As an aside, I seem to have an unusual number of people in my life who have no qualms telling me when I'm full of shit and/or when I'm being a jerk. You know who you are. And I want to take this opportunity to tell you that YOU ROCK!! I have very few friends who enable me, thank goodness, they mostly call me on my shit all the time and force me to grow, as uncomfortable as that may be for me.

2. An event, i.e., the funeral

Not really a funeral, not even close. On Saturday I helped out at the Brown Club of Southern California's annual GaLA Bruno, which is our annual membership drive. We had an awesome event, at the home of Matt Miller '83 and his wife Jody Miller. Matt is the host of Left Right And Center on KCRW, one of our local public radios.

We even had a string quartet!

This was the view from their house. I know, right??

Matt said something very interesting: that we can't move forward in politics because special interests on both sides pressure the politicians not to talk about certain things. Thus, the dialog is not honest and open. No open dialogue, no progress. I'm curious to know what these things are that are not being discussed.

A great event, but the temperatures finally dropped (well it IS November, for heaven's sake) so I was freezing for about 5 hours. My feet were so cold I was in pain. I know that in the grand scheme of things it was not very cold. Don't judge me. Needless to say, I was dead at the end of the day - get it? dead? funeral? ha ha. On Sunday I worked out and met a friend for coffee, then basically went back to bed. Och. I slept a lot. And now I'm fine.

The end [curtsies].