Tag Archives: intuition

When You Can’t Shake a Feeling

Standard

This is the last week of summer vacation for me and my team. Next week, routines resume and bedtimes will be argued.

Today, I took them all to get their hairs cut.

My youngest really didn’t want to do it; he was fearful because the last time I took him to a barber, the woman used scissors around his ears and cut his little ear.

But the older boys insisted on a barber; and so it was going to happen.

After about five minutes of telling my youngest, who is 11, that it was going to happen or that he’d lose screens for the rest of the break, he finally complied.

The barbershop doesn’t take plastic. Checks or cash only.

After my youngest was in the barber chair, in the care of possibly the kindest man I’ve ever encountered other than my now late father-in-law, I told the three of them I was off to visit the the bank in the grocery chain next door to get cash to pay the stylists.

While I was withdrawing cash, I asked the tellers to break a twenty so I could leave a tip for the barbers. I saw a man at the Western Union counter. He was short, a little younger than I am, and he weighed about as much as I do. He was wearing a summer-weight ecru suit, and one of those pork-pie hats, tilted to cover a bit of his face. As is natural for me, I told the teller I needed to break the cash so I could tip the barber next door. As I walked by the gentleman in the pork-pie hat, he zeroed in on me as I was leaving the store.

Up went my radar. I thought he might’ve heard everything I said.

I get to the barber and sit down nearest my kids. My middle son was up front near the door.

In walked the man in the pork-pie hat.

My oldest was directly in front of me, seated next to my youngest.

The pork-pie hat man sat facing me. His hat now removed. His face was hard, like its lines were a map to a forgotten place.

His eyes were intense. They blazed mint green, but were also bloodshot red… and his stare was fixed.

He asked for a #1 blade. All over. Which is basically what I like to refer to as the white supremacist cut.

My radar got sharper.

My oldest was released from his seat and sat next to me.

Immediately, I took out my phone. I started to text my son. Who was sitting right next to me.

He said, as he checked his phone, “Rats. My battery is dead.” But he saw that I was texting him.

He read as I typed:

That dude makes me nervous. Just saw him at Safeway. At Western Union counter. I feel like he followed me in here.

My son asked me to hand him my phone; he wanted to look something up.

He typed back:

He’s been looking at us up and down. He’s also had a moderately detailed cut, like a nice haircut, and now he’s getting it all buzzed. Definitely keep an eye on him.

We exchanged a couple more times and we both concluded that we were both feeling ill at ease and that it wasn’t just me.

My youngest was finished with his haircut, his ears were fine. He blushed and thanked the kindest barber ever.

My heart was racing. I just wanted to get out of there. The fact that the man got the simplest haircut of all made me more nervous.

I read the newspaper. People just shoot people for no reason now. Or things go down in a way, that a “wrong” look is interpreted as a stand-off. I don’t operate that way, but I also don’t back down so easily either.

I texted to my son, that if he were to follow us, that I would drive to the fire station just down the road and wait it out there.

So we walked up to the counter, I tipped the barbers and we walked out the door.

My middle son said, “Mom, that dude in the barbershop… He gave me the chills. I saw him watch you. It made me really nervous. And who would get a haircut like that? And…”

I hate that I still can’t shake that feeling. I wish I could trust people. I wish I could be more at ease.

The fact that my two sons felt something too, was oddly relieving. And also a bummer. The fact that my youngest felt nothing but taken care of and heard, is great.

What if we were all wrong? What if the man was just in from a foreign place and spoke perfect English asking for a #1 and …

I’m an imperfect being in an imperfect world. In yoga, we call it discernment (well, in all life it’s called ‘discernment’ but as a yoga teacher, there’s this thought or social concept that we are all like Jesus: super nice and open and giving of ourselves and that we have no boundaries and trust all…let me tell you: we aren’t like Jesus) and it’s an important gift to use.

Just in case, in the vein of discernment, we took the long way home.

Thank you.

Smoothies. Angels. The Familiar. Nebraska. Gravity. Awareness.

Standard

I just had the best smoothie ever. I make them myself. Usually I add protein powder, but I forgot to today. I was too excited to make it. We have all this fresh baby spinach and strawberries and pineapple that I cut up yesterday.

I was excited because we got a new blender, the NINJA (which is not silent, trust me, it just has a ton of blades) and it comes with these individual blender cups that are (open your throat and inhale to begin an aria a lá Jim Carrey): FAN-TAAAAAAS-TIC! The smoothie is gone now. You would’ve loved it. We have the Ninja Ultra Kitchen System 1200 (LMMOP123ABC). That’s the one with the personal cups.

Here’s what I put in it:

1 cup spinach leaves

1 cup strawberries

1 tbsp honey

1 tbsp flax oil (you have to have fat in your diet…) — or avocado oil, which is almost tasteless

1/4 cup pineapple

1/4 cup vanilla greek yogurt

1/4 cup water

ice

urrrrrp.

urrrrrp.

As you can see from the picture above, it was amazeballs.

Now I’m feeling all zippy. True story.

Writing last night helped me unblock some stuff. I wrote on the heels of a conference call I was on with some spiritual teachers who work with Angels. Look, I’m coming out about this: I’m into it all: energy healing,  Divine Guidance, I am into trying to listen to my intuition and my inner self. I am into God and how He works in the most amazing ways. Here’s what I’ll never do: suffocate you with it.

Anyway, the call was great but it was also a LOT of content. It was all about discernment and how we need to listen to messages and feel emotions that take us in a FORWARD direction and not back. Anything in reverse, is not Divine; anything that keeps us low, too much thinking, too much heaviness, too much “stuck” is not Divine. It’s along the lines, but so much more than the glib, “If it feels good, keep doing it” because we all know how that can get misinterpreted. Here’s me: if it feels good when you’re doing it, keep doing it. And when you’re done, several hours or days later, if it still feels good and makes you smile, and you’re not barfing or saying “I’m sorry, it’ll never happen again” and you’re looking for your keys, you SWEAR you had your keys Right There In That Box! when you were feeling good, then you may resume. Otherwise, you’re on the wrong bus.

I felt so validated this morning after writing here last night after that call, just expressing myself and expressing me expressing myself (meta!) that I woke up with this thought in my head:

When you stop trying to figure out who are you supposed to be, you can become who you really are.

^^I just typed that without any typos without looking at the keyboard. I was reading what I wrote when I woke up. That’s another indication to me anyhow, that I’m heading in the right direction.^^

So yeah. Angels. We all have them all around us all the time. We may as well get used to them and let them help us help ourselves. If it feels good and grows you, keep doing it. Who are the Angel people I’m talking to? Melissa Kitto and Richard Lassiter at “http://www.communicatewithangels.com” and they’re super nice, natch, but they’re also candid and firm in helping you understand what you need to know. One of the things Richard said last night, which is something I’ve been struggling with for quite some time now, is “the familiar.”

We all say we don’t want drama. But how likely are we to (re)create it without even knowing? Another thing Melissa said last night cut right through me: We are not made to suffer here on Earth. When we are suffering, it’s a signal to try something else. She asked of the group: “Am I possessive of my bad habits?”

I gulped.

How more likely are we to recall a miserable moment in our lives rather than a happier one?

Yeah. That. Feeling low shouldn’t be our predominating disposition. Feeling light and free is our set point. We just picked up bad habits from when we were wee. WE DID. I’m not blaming, I’m just saying, ya gotta learn it somewhere. Which makes me freak a little because I want to help my kids steer to and stay in happier places than places of doubt and anxiety.

Letting go of what’s familiar: letting go of the POSSESSION of / IDENTIFICATION with the bad habit because that’s what’s holding me back. Sometimes we hang on to the concept of the habit because it’s what we know, at least… it’s still a buffer from our true reality which is: freedom and happiness. It’s so easy to simply switch the gears and think about good things. But it’s a conscious decision we MUST make to do in order to do two things: make the happy thoughts the habit and undo the unconscious inverse which is the low energy. It’s a choice. It’s not so much Pollyanna; it’s deciding to not let the negativity corrode your spirit. Who wants that??

Richard asked later on the call: How do we know we are connecting with our spirit?

He answered: What brings you joy? What do you love most? What activity causes you to lose time? What causes you to ask: “Where has the day gone?” That is your place. That is your calling. That is your joy. That is your bliss.

For me, I owned it: it’s writing. It’s writing what’s in my head at the moment and my life. It’s sharing, connecting with my spirit and being of service and being with other people who bring me joy. There is no other way for me to REALLY lose time.

I also lose time when I’m playing — anything: with the kids, on a tennis court, in a rowing shell, running with my dog(s). Joking around and dancing. I lose time then. I even lose time folding laundry if something worthless is on TV like any of the Real Housewives… practicing yoga too. I think I lose time teaching yoga, but I have to be mindful of the time because people have lives.

The point is: be still, ask yourself some questions and treat yourself to your calling. See how amazing it is.

About laundry… I’ve decided though that my epitaph should read: “She died trying to find the match for that sock…”

So about discernment: Is what I’m feeling at this moment my actual and authentic feeling, or is a projection of someone else’s? Something I picked up unconsciously when I was a very young child?

How about you? Do you know what I’m talking about? Have you ever had a great idea, one that lifts you up and makes you smile (likely your angels telling you you’re on to something) and then a few hours later you’re stifled by doubt? You don’t think you can do it? You have to figure out logistics? That’s what they’re talking about — listen to the happy idea and then let the logistical part help you organize the steps to accomplish it. Don’t toss out the good idea. Don’t listen to the doubt, listen to the need for organization.

About feelings: are they truly yours or are they learned? Name the feeling: that helps to neutralize it a bit and you can dissect it then. So let’s say it’s a learned feeling / reaction. Then ask yourself: If it’s not me then is it (the feeling) something I need to be aware of? And if it’s not bringing me joy, and not helping me be of service (while also minding my own business) then I need to redirect and figure out how it can be purer, better, higher energy. That higher energy is what Melissa and Richard term “regaining that pivot point to master the lessons we are here to learn.”

So I wrote here after that call. I felt cleaner and lighter. More allowing of myself and then I went to bed and slept like a puppy. Never say “I slept like a baby.” Because we all know they don’t sleep. They don’t. Well, my babies didn’t sleep like puppies. They slept like babies. Y’see my point?

=-=-=

With all the snow the last few days, I watched two Oscar-nominated films back-to-back. I’m usually quite late to the party. Being a mom of three boys, two dogs, two cats, a wife and now yogini is a bit time-consuming.

The first film, “Gravity” was one I waited on because I wasn’t ready to see it so soon after Mom died. I am glad I waited, and I’ll likely watch it again and again because it’s layers-deep stuff and so visually beautiful. I won’t give anything away other than to say, letting go (here I go again) is so helpful. We can’t take in new and better if we hang on to old and harmful: there is no space in our hands. We have to let go.

The other film, “Nebraska” was equally amazing, for completely different and similar reasons. Who doesn’t want to be relevant to someone else? The story is both subtle and in your face and its being filmed in black and white helped keep the tempo steady and ironic. It charmed me and kept me curious about what would happen next, did he actually win the million dollars? I wondered — I threw the main character a bone: maybe he’s right! The thing is: we all get old, if we’re lucky. We all want a moment in the moonlight. Don’t we? Own it. Nebraska was a powerful film about family, intention, relevance, greed, and our fight with the clock. The ending was simply elegant.

On some levels, Nebraska reminded me of my mom, and her deep-seated interest in being relevant. It colored all her actions. She had a captive and mutually interested audience of three little kids. Sometimes we completely miss what’s right in front of us. It also reminded me of my dad, because he’s aging too and it’s gotta be scary.

So go make yourself a smoothie. The sun is out here, first day of spring 2014, Mother Nature hit it out of the park today. There’s a rumor of more s – – w next week. Winter is on notice. It’s time to move on. 

Thank you.

30 Days of Wisdom — Day 5: When Your Name is Safe In Someone’s Mouth

Standard

I can’t make these things up. Today is Day 5 of 30 Days of Wisdom per Goodreads.

Here is today’s quote (and I will say right now and likely again during this series that sometimes the quotes make no sense):

When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth.
― Jess C. Scott, The Intern
tags: desire, emotion, friendship, honesty, imagination, individuality, life, love, passion, reality, relationships,romance, truth, wisdom, wise-words 10824 likes

First, I will try to ignore the use of “they” and “their” in a book about when one person loves another. They and their are plural.

It’s one of those things that BUGS THE CRAP out of me, but it’s how we all speak these days. In speaking, I can understand it better than when using it in writing when a writer has time to read, edit, fix and present it.

Onward: I guess it makes sense. I have heard my name said by people who have treated me well, and by people who have not treated me well, and I think what Scott is saying actually sounds true.

I had a friend who used to say my name, reader, in the middle of a sentence, like how a mother would, to remind you, reader, that you are being spoken to and that you should pay attention, reader, to what you’re being told.

She was bossy and an old soul, like 80-year-old pissed grandma old. Super bossy and super judgey and we don’t speak anymore. I couldn’t handle it.

I have friends who don’t even say my name. I wonder what’s that all about. I say peoples’ names, when it feels organic; I like to do that because I like to be deliberate in what I’m saying or clear when in a group. I’m not like a robot though.

Another person I know says my name in a way that makes me feel like I just fell down and need help getting up.

I had teachers who respected me and who said my name in a collegial and respectful way; it worked: I liked performing and working for them. I had other teachers who disliked their jobs and lumped my name in with that entire vibe and I disliked being in the room with them. One teacher, my home-ec teacher leeched alcohol and I consistently disappointed her with my rogue-going.

I’m curious about this book, The Intern.

It’s Young Adult fiction. I think I’ll pass.

But here’s the blurb

* Book #1 (Lust) in Jess C Scott’s Sins07 “seven deadly sins” series—a teenage version of Dirty Dancing meets Punk’d.

17-year-old Suzie Q, smart kid and closet dance enthusiast, travels with a classmate to a world-class city for an internship program. She finds herself undeniably attracted to the suave hip-hop instructor, Jo.Zee, who recruits her into a dance fitness DVD he is producing. When Suzie sees (or thinks she sees) the real Jo.Zee, she must decide if she will trust him…or her instincts.

Genre: Contemporary Fiction / YA with adult crossover appeal

* SINS07 is a series featuring lighthearted tales that explore each of the seven sins in order, beginning with lust.(less)

I’m guessing that Suzie Q. (wow, that’s imaginative) doesn’t feel her name sounds safe when it comes out of Jo.Zee’s mouth.

I have to stop now.

This quote had potential when it was taken out of context. Now that it’s suddenly in context, it’s hard for me to stomach.

I need a cracker.

The point is that I get what the writer is saying: you can listen to the tone of how your name is stated. You can close your eyes and hear it. You can replay it and notice how you feel when you hear it. Do you feel safe when you hear it? Does it make you want to hear it more from that person? That’s inner wisdom, that’s worth paying attention to — that’s the seat of intuition.

Try it… it could be revealing.

Thank you.

Looking Back: Old Lessons, New Iterations

Standard

I’ve posted a couple write-ups this week about my accomplishments this year without really taking stock of what I’ve done. Despite my big personality, I’m modest.

I’ll allow the following: I’ve written a lot. I’ve seen my kids successfully to another year, I’ve invested time in myself and my marriage. I’ve helped friends and I’ve always been candid. Oh! And I helped get that Wink-O-Matic installed near the school.

I didn’t plan to write all week, but it’s hard to still the hands when they’ve apparently got something to say.

Here’s the dealio, I have learned a lot this year:

I catch more butterflies with nectar than I do with vinegar.

Counting to 10 before I speak helps.

Not having all the answers is a gift.

Checking my place: where am I in this discussion?, What is my gain?, What is my loss? is essential to my sanity.

Too much coffee gives me the shakes.

Taking a risk, replying to a tweet and joining a writer’s blog is a great idea.

I parted ways with people this year. It was time and I no longer harbor enmity toward them. It took a while though. The feelings of wrenching regret from supposedly “wasted time” – when things like that go up in flames – can be overwhelming. It wasn’t wasted time.

I learned I have the tenacity and energy and creativity and the chops to really take a go at this writing-a-book thing. (I just don’t have the ego or the business savvy.)

I learned that cyclical, intense and familiar energy, whether good or bad, is usually unhealthy.

I also made a few new friends as well, and they’re terrific people. Some of the nicest people I’ve never met.

For someone who spent a good 30+ years time shushing her intuition, 2012 has been a year of seeking it, finding it and trusting it.

The suggestions and nudges our intuitions make will always be right, but seldom easy: they might lead us down a challenging path; or make us confront what we avoid; and work harder than we thought we could. I’ve written so much about personal growth, self-improvement, mindfulness, grace, authenticity, dysfunction… every day offers a lesson.

These lessons will continue because I will continue to put myself out there.

2013 is going to be more of the same for me in that regard: bigger steps, bolder visions and higher hopes. What do we have to lose?

Enjoy the sublime version of Auld Lange Syne below, as the Scots intended it…

Thank you. Be safe tonight.