Go Fill Yourself

As I’ve been thinking about taking more action in my own life, and truthfully feeling a little overwhelmed and exhausted by the idea, I thought about the concept of budgeting time and energy the way we (should) budget money. Where does our energy go everyday? How about every month? Can we create more energy?

Thinking about creating more energy gave way to a realization. When I am really motivated to do something I have the energy I need. I am pushed to do it without needing to convince myself or force myself. It actually feels good to do it, and in that way it is easy to get started and stay committed to the task at hand. What is that about?

As I’ve come to know for sure, your feelings never lie. They tell you everything you need to know, if you just listen. Energy is no different. When something drains your energy, that is telling you something. And when something pumps you up, or at the very least doesn’t pull you down, that is telling you something as well.

We’ve all heard the idea to “Follow your joy” or “Follow your bliss”…I think the more accurate advice should be to “Follow what sparks you”. Think about it. When was the last time you did something that sparked you, that gave you a little zap of energy, inspiration, or just excitement? What made you curious or moved you to get up and DO something?

I once spoke with a therapist and she told me about different aspects that make up a person’s life and how we must consciously contribute to each aspect in order to feel more fulfilled. Kind of like paying the bills for your house, you need the lights, the water, the rent, the internet, and each one needs to be paid monthly to keep your house running. Same goes for your life. The different aspects need you to pay them some attention, time and energy, to keep your life running at its fullest.

I have mapped out a few aspects that could use a little time and energy in my own life. And seeing what it would be like if I added a bit more time and energy into each or even just one and see if I feel any difference. I invite you do try it out too.

I think a lot of us put a lot of time an energy into maybe one or two of these aspects and possibly no time and energy into a couple of these aspects. And yet, all play a roll in our lives and all are important to fully rounding out who we are as people. I think some of it also has to do with what is in our comfort zone and what isn’t. I know I can easily put time and energy into mental health and learning, but really devoting time to my physical health and nutrition is much more challenging. I’m sure everyone can relate to some of these aspects being more challenging than others to pay attention to.

So, for the next month or so, I am going to make an effort to find what sparks me in each of these categories and follow that spark into action! Maybe you want to see what sparks you too?

Being

Being, as in human being. But also, spiritual being. How much of us is human and how much is spirit? That is a thought I have been focusing on this week. I am a product of Catholic school. Aside from a couple of years in elementary school, I spent my whole adolescence being taught catholicism. Now that I have started this spiritual journey, I have been recalling some of those teachings. One in particular is the teaching that Jesus was both human and divine. That is what set him apart. Now, please don’t get me wrong, I do not want to diminish Jesus’ position, but I believe we are all human and divine. I also believe that we teeter between the two and struggle to find a balance. Or maybe, more accurately, struggle to integrate both sides into one complete being.

I think for the majority of people the struggle is to become fully connected to your spirit side. Especially in today’s world with so much going on all the time, its hard to disconnect and find your spirit self, let alone thrive in your spirit self. But for some, myself included, connecting with your spirit self becomes the focal point of life. Its easier in some sense than connecting with the human side. That’s where the trouble starts. The journey into spirituality morphs from being a noble pursuit into an attempt to escape your human self all together. Life is hard, who wouldn’t want to escape into a world of peace and joy, or at least the quest to find those things. Non-spiritual people do it all the time with drugs, alcohol, or whatever addiction strikes their fancy, the options are limitless. Spirituality is better than those, right? I’m not so sure.

A thought snuck in that seemed to give me an answer. I studied acting in college and through those years I learned about two very well known acting teachers with different techniques used to create a character. One was Stanislavski, who taught about starting from the inner world of the character. Feelings, thoughts, beliefs, etc. (Sound familiar? :P) The other was Chekov who believed you could build your character from the outside in by putting on their clothes, walking a certain way, finding physicalities unique to this new character, and letting that guide you.

What these two techniques have in common are that they both lead to the same destination. A fully realized character. Neither is right or wrong, they are as good as the actor applying the technique. And no character is complete until you fill in both their inner world and their outer world. So, with that realization, I think I’ve come to a new understanding. As long as you are not wallowing in the technique so much so that you lose sight of the goal at hand, it does not matter if you start from the outside, the human side, or the inside, the spiritual side. The destination is a full fledged being, both human and divine. Eventually you will need to incorporate the other side anyway. It just takes a little awareness to work on both sides and keep your eye on the destination of being.

Mini Post #6: Saying Goodbye

This week we said goodbye to our old lady, our dog, Leila. She always had attitude, took every opportunity to be a rebel. If she wasn’t a dog, she would have been a brash, no nonsense woman who drank red wine and smoked cigarettes while giving you her many critiques on things you didn’t ask about. I know this because she lapped up spilled red wine and had a penchant for cigarette butts. And let me tell you, she let you know exactly what she thought about everything.

Animals are such a gift and I am grateful to have had such a badass one as my furry companion for the last 18yrs.

In workshop some weeks ago we wrote about “A Ritual Gone Wrong” and I thought it might be fitting here.

With so much love, goodbye you tiny little diva. ❤🍷🚬

“Technically this is illegal you know. Throwing ashes off the pier.”

“It’ll only take a minute, come on!”

I begrudgingly grabbed the Trader Joe’s bag and got out of the car. Flowers, a fig, her favorite fruit, and a jar with all that was left of her inside.

“Isn’t it beautiful? Perfect timing, look at that sunset.”

“People are looking at us.”

“Stop worrying, it’s fine.”

We reached the end of the pier or as far as we could get. A large fence cut off the path. DUE TO CONSTRUCTION THIS AREA WILL BE RESTRICTED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

“No, no, this is fine. This was her favorite spot. Give me the bag.”

She handed me a couple of flowers and took a couple for herself.

“We love you and we miss you.”

She throws her flowers in the water.

“Love you”

I throw my flowers over the edge and quickly glance around for witnesses.

“Okay, throw in the ashes and let’s go.”

“Wait, I want to throw in the fig.”

“Ugh, ok”

She grabs the fig and tosses it over. Now the reason we came. The jar.

“Do you want to do it together?”

“No, you go ahead”

She holds the jar for what seems like forever. Tearing up, she dumps it all. The wind takes a lot of it, but the rest gets carried out to sea.

“Goodbye, you’re always in our hearts”

As we grab the Trader Joe’s bag and start to leave, a huge flock of pigeons fly over the fence and I get a special offering of my own, right on my head.

Laughter

“That’s definitely from her! Stop worrying so much!”

I got the message loud and clear.

Mini Post #5: Close your eyes

Writer’s block. We sat in front of her computer screen. Writing. But the writing had come to a stop. What comes next? What should that character say? We stared silently. She put her hand over my face. “Do it”, she urged. “I can’t” I said. “Yes, you can” she said as she pushed my head down onto the desk. “Go to your place”.

I didn’t have a place, per se. It was more like closing my eyes and watching. Waiting for a scene to appear. You see the work already is. I just watch and listen and try to catch it.

So I did as she asked. I closed my eyes. I waited. Allowed my mind to go still, hold its breath so as not to scare the work away. It took some time, but the picture began to appear. Faint at first, but the colors began to saturate as the sound of the next lines reverberated silently in my head.

It worked. It always did. But somehow I always forgot.

We all have our ‘place’ just behind out eye lids. Everything you could ever need is back there. The answer to any question, any blank spot, any block. Close your eyes, invite the stillness, and wait.

Mini Post #4 – Solace

We were given a photo and asked to write whatever came. This isn’t the exact photo, but it is similar. It was a wooded forest with light coming in through the trees. Here is what came.

Did you ever notice that solitude sounds like solace. 
I suppose they can go together. 
Finding peace, alone, among the trees. 
I've come here to be alone and in a way it's peaceful. 
But I'm not running towards peaceful. 
It's more like running away from not peaceful. 
Running away from not alone. 
Solitude is a hiding spot. 
Perfectly masked by these great big shadows cast by these great big trees. 
Streaks of sunlight busting though leaves, giving just enough light to chase away the 
monsters. 
If there are monsters. 
Passers by pass on by and for now I like it that way. 
Don't disturb the solitude built limb by limb. 
A cage to some, a shelter to others. 
Others like me, hiding from one another, 
Wearing their solitude like armor. 
I know they are there because I am here, among the trees.

Mini Post #3 – What Matters?

The very first workshop I attended, this was the very first prompt. It’s a big question. But also, simple, if you really think about it. Here is what I came up with.

There are so many things that matter to so many people. All different, all individual. But what should matter, to everyone, I think, is kindness. Kindness doesn’t mean niceness, that’s a different thing entirely. Kindness with yourself above all. I guess it all comes down to love in one form or another. Love can hide in harsh words and it can be in grand gestures. Kindness is taking care in what you do and say. It’s an awareness that others exist as wholly as you do. Everything else can fall into place if your first step is kind.

It’s a challenge, don’t get me wrong. But then again all the most important things are. All the most powerful things are. Imagine, just for a second, how differently moments in your life would have played out if you could have stopped whatever direction you were going and thought, “now, what would be the kind way to do this, say this, be this?” You could still be the boss, the bitch, the boss bitch, but do it kindly, knowing you thought about the other person as much as you did about yourself.

What are your thoughts on what matters? Do you agree or disagree with this stance on kindness. Have you every been put in a position where kindness was a challenge? Please share in the comments.

Mini Post #2 – Shame vs. Guilt

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In workshop we discussed the difference between shame and guilt. It was an eye opener. Here is a quote we used to understand the difference.

“Shame is a focus on self, guilt is a focus on behavior. Shame is ‘I am bad.’ Guilt is, ‘I did something bad’.

“The ability to forgive oneself…is key to making art, and very possibly the key to finding any semblance of happiness in life”.

-Ann Patchett, writer

Here is what I wrote in the 20min writing session we had in class.

She pulled on the cotton candy pink shorts and matching top praying they would fit. All her fellow bridesmaids and the bride-to-be had already put their’s on. They all looked so tiny swimming in their all pink get ups. One size fits all always seemed more like russian roulette. The rules of the spa were that everyone had to wear these provided garments in the dry areas of the spa. No clothing was permitted in the wet areas. She’d be staying out of the wet areas. The shorts fit, though they were a little snug around her larger than life thighs. The top fit as well with a little tug here and there. This was a victory, one of the many silent secret battles fought in plain view.

The girls, giddy to spend this entire day being pampered, spread throughout the spa. Saunas and steam rooms, massages and whirlpools. And her favorite spot, the cushy meditation room where everyone mostly fell asleep. As the day was coming to an end she felt great. Relaxed and pleased that the day had gone so smoothly. No more battles had cropped up to test her fortitude. Until the showers.

Back in the locker room all the bridesmaids got undressed and made their way to the open concept shower area. A wet area. Towels tauntingly positioned by the exit. The shorts and shirt that just hours ago threatened to be her enemy had become a safety blanket. To rip them away now seemed cruel. The bridesmaids dumped their pink clothes in the laundry bucket on their way to the showers. “You coming?” one of them called out to her. “Yeah, just a minute, I’m gonna use the bathroom first”. Feeling cornered, she hid in a stall for what was probably too long. She needed to gather up that fortitude she thought she didn’t need today. She stripped off those pink shorts and the pink t-shirt. She took a deep breath and whispered to herself, “You got this”. She opened that stall and walked her larger than life thighs straight to those damn open concept showers.

Think about shame or guilt you have faced in your life. Have you been able to overcome those feelings or are they still something you are working on?

Mini Post #1 – Creative Writing

In an effort to do more writing I enrolled in a writing workshop near my house. It’s called Rose Writers and I highly recommend it to anyone living in the Long Beach, Ca area. Its not like most writing workshops. There are no critiques of your work. You simply write in a supportive environment with no judgement. Many use it as a therapeutic way to express themselves. It’s actually a wonderful way to grow and explore thoughts and feelings you didn’t even know you had.

I thought it would be nice to share some of the prompts we use in class and post my writing in these mini posts. I think it would be great if you wanted to do a bit of writing and used these prompts to get the ball rolling. I know it is helping me a lot.

This and all future excerpts shared here are written in class within 5-20min writing sessions we are given. No editing will be done. Some are funny, some cut a little deeper, all are meant to be a way to explore writing and your own individual voice.

**All writing done in this workshop is considered fiction through the point of view of a narrator**

Prompt: Write about a memory of kindergarten or 1st grade

You would’t know it looking at me, but I was a very shy kid. I don’t mean that adorable kind of shy kid hiding behind her mom’s legs, sneaking a peak occasionally when it was safe. I mean vomiting all over myself from nerves and having a full blown panic attack shy. That relentlessly crying kid every morning begging not to be left at school. That was me. My kindergarten teacher, Mrs. C, was very patient. She was sweet and had long hair down to her knees that flowed in the breeze while she swung on the swings urging me to join her. Fat chance Mrs. C! I’d rather tremble with anxiety right here on the bench, thank you very much. One day we were given the assignment to trace our hand on a piece of paper and cut it out to make turkeys or some shit, I don’t know. What I did know was the bell had rung and I was out of there. I could see my dad outside the door waiting for me.

Now, the next bit is a little fuzzy, but apparently Mrs. C told me I needed to finish cutting out my hand and then I could go. Unfathomably, my dad agreed. The traitor. This had become a full blown hostage situation. Mrs. C wanted my traced hand cut out and I would not be returned to my parent until she got it. I bawled while holding that flimsy piece of paper in one hand, desperately trying to get a hold of myself so I could make those damn safety scissors work. I could hear my dad encouraging me from just outside the door. Sweet man had no idea the life long emotional scar this moment would become for me.

I guess I finally cut out my hand because I did make it home that day. 5 was a tough year for me. I’m proud to say that I made it out of kindergarten. The crying had stopped and I can look back at that school year with peace. I’ll never know whatever became of Mrs. C, but I want her to know I forgive her.

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