Tag Archives: love

The Truth About Honesty

Lies

Lies (Photo credit: Gerard Stolk (vers l’Ascension ))

Hi I’m Melanie and I’m walking the path of awakening.  It ain’t easy.  It involves confronting my truest intensions and facing my deepest fears.  This is a process that I have to stay diligently aware of.  This can be done by reflecting on my actions.

When you embrace your dark side, you accept yourself AS IS.  To know your dark side, it transforms itself into light.  Love, acceptance and compassion for yourself arrises.  Any negative thoughts left-over should be processed and accepted – not fought.  The ego merges with the soul and it’s all done through self-compassion.

Layers of understanding start to unfold.  You can find the answers inside because you are part of the infinite.  When you’re ready for a new layer, it will be shown to you.  You feel a shift in perception and in seeing truth.  It may not always be the truth you were hoping for, but a truth that sets you free.  Know your hopes, and you know your fears.

Empty your beliefs to see truth – no one can tell you what’s true.  You have to get there on your own.  Memorizing the advice of Guru’s is not the way.

If you are unhappy with your life, you become stagnant.  Your soul becomes shrouded in a hard-shelled rigor mortis box.  Debris collects on your superficial surface to try and mask whats inside.  Your fears hold you back and your comfort zone becomes a crypt.

I feel at this time in my progression, the small negative thoughts are barely noticeable.  But I still have fear.  I fear my own limitations as a functioning adult.  I don’t have enough experience with being an adult, and so I fear it.  My fear holds me in my comfort zone of security. Tethering myself to video games, beer and my parents.

A new layer into my awakening is just around the corner.  I feel that the only way to break free from my parents is to be honest with them.  Any form of lying is in truth, a hidden fear in the liar.  The liar can not let go (or confront) something, and so must lie in order to protect it.  I’m protecting my comfort zone of being a non-adult.

I lie to myself by saying “it would kill them if they knew the truth.  It would hurt them…etc.”  It would hurt them because they also need to let go.  Letting go feels like dying.  Like a part of you is breaking off – a shard from your soul becomes tethered to another.  You can see where you’re tethered if you’re able to see your lies.

The lie protects the person lying, not the one being lied to.  There is no progress in lies, only anger, confusion and darkness.  When you’re working out negative thoughts, I’m certain there is a lie being told to yourself that you’re not seeing.  But guess what?  It doesn’t matter!  Once you see the lie, you come to find out that Holy Crap no, it truly does not matter.  It can then be released into the ether.

I can say with forthright conviction that everything I write here in my blog is the authentic truth of a girl piecing the pie together.  I lie to my parents, and I know it’s wrong in many ways, but I’m not there yet – but I’m close!  I get closer and closer to telling them the full truth and they are getting closer and closer to accepting it.  My mother today told me that she feels herself accepting my freedom to own my own life.  It has to happen at her own pace, and I keep pushing her forward.

My parents know everything I’m doing in Spain except for the fact I’m doing it alone.  They also don’t know about the peyote ceremony.  They’re just not ready, and neither am I.

How odd it is to see all this happening.  My awakening is my therapist.  It’s different for everyone, but this is my personal journey with it.  The familiarity of these insights are all congruent with others walking the path.

Everyone’s running from something.  This world is shaped by fear, people are fundamentally shaped by fear.  I want to embrace it (within reason).  I want to confront it.

Every emotion we have, every thought we make, is a choice.  I choose my suffering – I don’t hide from it.  I’m not running anymore.  And from where I’m standing, my strength outweighs my fear and my love for myself makes me shine through any heartache.

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The Foundation of Creative Thinking Part 3: Maslow

Physicists are coming to realize that this world is a hologram built upon tiny sporadic influxes in an infinite sea of potential possibilities.  And our minds play a huge role in manifesting our thoughts into reality.  It is however, a group effort.  We are all but one being of conscious energy working together to create the world around us.

Do you know what this means in regards to our creativity?  Limitless potential!

An American pastor named Robert Schuller once posed the question: “What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?”

Take your time and understand that quote because its truth is deeply embedded in the gossamer strands that entangle you with the infinite.  YOU are special.  YOU have gifts.  Natural talent is both equal to and the same as natural passion.  There is nothing in this world you should fear – not even death.  YOU are loved.  YOU embody strength.  All you need to do is find your awareness – your self awareness.  And believe.  All you have to do is believe in yourself.  The real question is, do you really want to?  Or do you not have time for that nonsense?

maslow's pyramid

Many people know about Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.  I agree with it, how can I not?  It seems straightforward enough.  But if it were my pyramid, I’d replace the need of Love/Belonging with Appreciation, Gratitude and Compassion for others.  Then I’d replace the Esteem section with Love, Compassion and Acceptance of yourself.  The tippity top would include all that other stuff he lists, but he left out the most important component –  complete and unfailing belief in yourself.

His Love/Belonging and Esteem layers tells us that we need others for validation.  Having this belief will make you dependent on external sources and therefore cripple the understanding that you are in fact an already perfectly whole person.

The middle parts are where people get tripped up.  If you stay dependent on external sources, you will find yourself digging for power, for control – manipulating others for approval.  You enter into a lifelong game of struggle to stay on top.

But nothing will fill you up as well as you can fill yourself.  And this is where solitude comes in.  Know thyself and know that only YOU can fix YOU – although you’re already perfect just as you are.

I had my watercolor class tonight.  I love this class – I love the lady’s in the class.  They are so freaking adorable that I want to cry just watching and listening to them.  They set up their little paint set with their brushes and expensive Aqvarelle Arches paper that the instructor insisted we buy.  They do their very best in attempting to paint as the teacher gives instructions.

We are all there trying to create art and learn.  It’s really a beautiful thing to behold – not the paintings themselves, but the women’s efforts are what make it beautiful.  Their quirks bring out the compassion in me.  I want to cradle them in my arms and say “Hey now you can do this.  Don’t worry about messing up, you can do this!”

The woman sitting next to me takes criticism very hard.  I feel her energy, so I know.  She’s trying to get better by laughing it off – she laughs at herself and started accepting that her work is no good, and can therefore be more accepting of criticism (but accepting and reception are not the same).  The fact that I can feel this happening all within her kind of freaks me out.

The woman sitting behind me is a sweetheart.  She loves everyone and wants to make everyone feel good.  But I also feel her energy – it calls out to me saying that she’s not as good or as talented as everyone else.  And the more crappy she feels about herself, the more she wants to make others feel wonderful.

I can see people plainly.  I intuit things and feel them.  It’s all emotion, all imagery without words to hold any of it down.  And it’s only through imagery and emotions where you start to believe in your potential – don’t try, Do.  Don’t act, Be.  See it, Paint it.

Writing about how to unlock your creativity is hard to do since the way into it is not through logic and reason.  There are no words for it.  It’s the part in you that doesn’t know language.

Think about it for a minute.  Can you tell yourself to believe in yourself?  No!  You have to actually embody it, you have to feel it.  Do you see what I’m saying?  Words have no power over what you truly feel or believe.  It’s like painting with water having no pigment.  You write with invisible ink.  If there is no belief behind your words, they are meaningless.

But then again once you know this, are you too scared to use it?  If you are, then you don’t believe in yourself.

Let go man, it’s simple.

For your exercise tonight I want you to think of something you want to do, but are too afraid to try.  You’re afraid of failing, being hurt or being judged, afraid of embarrassing yourself.  For me personally, one thing I’m afraid of doing is going to an auto dealership and test driving the car of my dreams.  I don’t want to do it because I’m a poor girl, a loser who still lives at home with her parents.  The salesman would see right through me and not give me the time of day, feeling like I’m wasting his time.

The thing with manifesting your reality is that you have to believe you already acquired all of that you wish for.  You have to act the part accordingly, exuding confidence and knowing.  If I believe I’m a person deserving enough to attend an open house mansion, or take a $200,000 car out for a test drive, then no other reality exists.  The universe will comply.  Your beliefs will bring all this into fruition – but you have to be diligent in fighting back those naysaying thoughts (and people).

Really look deep for those hang ups.  The one’s that seem to be the most “common sense” notions are the most powerful and very hard to release.  Remember that you have to feel it, not just say it, but feel it.

YOU are deserving!  You matter in the world.  If that salesman won’t humor me with a test run, that’s his own shit, not mine.  Don’t become the beliefs of what others think you are.

Think Maslow, think self-actualization.  Keep these thoughts steadfast through-out the day and don’t slack off because if you do, you’ll fall back into the dough of circumstance.

And now for your enjoyment, here’s what I painted in class today:

watercolor beach

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I’m 33 in this year of the black snake

Love ? I love love love you.

Love ? I love love love you. (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

Yesterday was my birthday so one of my near and dear’s called me up to wish me well.

I’m not big on birthdays.  I feel that I should not be celebrated or held on high.  When people get together to celebrate me, I groan in guilt knowing that I don’t deserve any of it.

My friend on the phone yesterday said so many nice things to me.  Before she called, I was feeling down and having a hard coping day with unwarranted feelings of loneliness.  I kept telling myself “It’s only because it’s my birthday.  That’s why I’m feeling like this.  Calm down and let it pass, let it pass.  It doesn’t help that it’s Valentines day either.”

But then she called and filled my lonely heart with love and praise.  Praise that I don’t deserve, praise that I don’t trust or feel entitled to.  After talking to her, I got off the phone feeling bigger than the sun does shine.

“Don’t feel big Mel, let yourself feel good, not big.  That loneliness and worthlessness can come about again and it only comes about when the feeling of big wears off.  It’s not real, it’s not lasting.  Love’s lasting.”

Birthdays give me the jitters.  They make me anxious.  I went out to dinner with a few friends who were all being so nice and loving, and again, I was having the feeling that I don’t deserve them.  Dave was there, and L – the girl I wrote horrible things about.  Both of them loving me and forgiving everything because that’s what friends do, they let go and forgive – it’s easy when real love is there and not just the illusion of it – the apparitional love that’s formed by fear and need.

When real love is present, there can be no resentment, no jealousy, no war or judgement.

We went to Billy O’s after dinner.  I knew almost everyone there, and all of them wishing me a happy birthday and buying me drinks and shots.  I felt so big, so loved.  I showered everyone with appreciation and gratitude because that was all I had.  If I didn’t give back, I wouldn’t be able to receive anything.  There would be a blockage, no flow or exchange.  I wouldn’t be able to let anyone into my heart.  And isn’t that what matters most in life?  Isn’t that the stuff that keeps darkness at bay?

Love is all there is.  All that really matters.  And I’m slowly learning how to let others love me.

I mulled this over while massaging my last client.  I let myself slip in and out of being with ego and then being without.  It was trippy.

Holy shit I’m tired.  Good lord.  I massaged my ass off along with everyone else’s today.  I made $280 today – SHIT!  I mean seriously, you got to be shitting me here.  Can it really be this easy?

I’m so tired, so unbelievably hungry since I hadn’t had time to eat today and I have to go to the bathroom so bad that I’m starting to smell like an old diaper.  Gross.

I don’t want to move.  I drank the entire ocean last night and then some.

I have so much to write, but it’s not going to happen tonight.  It’s for the best anyway.  I’m being super cheesy and sentimental these days.

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Today Melanie discusses the “real” world and feelings of loneliness

I blew off a friend last night.  I always end up carrying a tremendous amount of guilt whenever I do this.  I usually cave in and meet them out just to avoid the weight of guilt.

This part of my personality always bothered me.  Everyone else can seemingly ditch others without batting an eye or thinking twice.  Why is it me who suffers more than the person I’m ditching?  And why is it so easy for others to do this?

A while ago I wrote about my friend Dave.  He’s living in a crappy apartment, barely scraping by with minimum wage work, doesn’t own a car, and his mother brings him McDonalds for dinner.

I think about this guy every single day.  Every day that goes by without me calling him, I feel a tug on my heart and my conscience.  But he is a person who needs and wants too much.

Dave’s father was and still is a scumbag who abandoned his family when little Dave was maybe 10 years old.  This abandonment cost him his childhood and exposed him to the harsh “real” world that I myself don’t wish to experience.  He got a glimpse early on.

Dave was never able to let go of his past and forgive his father, thus creating the life he has now – reaching out to anyone who can comfort and hold him.  He sets high expectations and standards from those he considers closest to him as a way to avoid being hurt again.  The person who can hurt him the most, is the one he loves the most.  He asserts his power and control just as it was with Amy (only not as harsh).

I came to realize that this so-called “real world” that people claim to live in, is actually a world based on fear.  It has nothing to do with going to school and getting a decent job so you can work the rest of your life just to survive and pay bills, although most people think that’s what it is, it really isn’t.  Working to pay bills in order to survive is not the reason why this world is considered harsh.  It’s bandaid logic.  It covers up the wound that’s festering beneath the facade of superficial status of power and control.  Or in Dave’s case, the facade of being stuck and helpless.

Let’s step back a minute and look at what’s really happening here.  Why does the world get harsh all of a sudden?  It happens to most people when they graduate and take on responsibilities such as paying rent and dealing with work woe’s.  They experienced loss of youth, loss of friends and family.  Their safety net is no longer there to catch them.  They feel extreme loss of their original contained world, and are now left to fend for themselves.  They hold onto the past for comfort, never letting go of the pains and joys they experienced during a time when life still made sense.  They suffer from a loneliness that can only be remedied by a person who makes them feel complete and whole.  Their world makes sense again and they feel safe in knowing that they are loved and not alone.  They form their own safety net to catch them when they fall.

The stronger the love, the easier it is to get through the day.  But for most people, the fear never leaves.  They become consumed with work.  They are rewarded with status and so they work more.  They take the love of their spouse (or from whomever feeds them power) and uses it to fuel their esteem and confidence, making them feel special and that they matter.

But it will never be enough for these people.  They’ll always keep reaching out for more and more, never defeating the fear.  It’s circular.  It’s like the temporal causality loop that theorizes one thing can not exist without the other.  We work hard at our jobs thus feeding the fear, the fear makes us work hard to feed the fear.  Once you understand this, you can step out of it.  Especially if you’re in a miserable job that you hate waking up to everyday for the rest of your life.

The world doesn’t have to be this way!  This IS a cruel hard world if you view and treat it as such.

I’m still very much a child that never grew up into this “harsh” world I hear so much about.  I experienced loss, isolation and being cast aside, but I never let it consume me.  I never caved into it.  I felt the fear of having no safety net – I envisioned it and felt it’s power and that the only stable thing there is in the world, is family.  Love your brothers and sisters because they’re the only one’s who’ll be there in the end.  I felt all that!

But anything that grows out of the fertilized soil of fear, is an illusion.  Feeling alone and helpless is also an illusion.  We are NEVER alone!  And each one of us matters despite what others might think or tell you.

I haven’t spoken to Dave after that night I went over his place.  I’m busy, yes, but I’m also nobody’s savior.  No one should be a savior to anyone.  Feeling important only because a person makes you feel important, is using the ego that binds us here.  If you feel important simply because others define you as important, you’re also giving them power to define you in a negative light.  If a person despises you and thinks little of you, you also let that in – and you believe it.  You take the good with the bad and pray the good wins out and keeps you on top.  It becomes a game.  You try to control your environment and the people in it.  You feel entitled to your slice, feeling you earned it.  But in all actuality, you earned it off the backs of those who loved you the most.

I see this so clearly.  So profoundly clear.  I also see that it’s in everyone to do this.  We are all sinners not trusting God.

Our thoughts are consuming.  They are repetitive and feed emotions, feeding into fear, hate, love, despair.  If everyone can only stop thinking!  That’s the one thing I always told Amy to stop doing.  Anytime she started laying in on me, I would tell her to stop thinking about it because none of it was real.  But her past experiences were so ingrained that they taken over and did the thinking for her.  She tried to stay in control, stay on top, work hard to live in this real world that I’m not seeing.  She wanted me to see it so badly, so I can feel the fear that she feels.  If I felt the fear, I can cling to her for guidance so neither of us would be alone and we can be strong for each other, always there.

I don’t play that game.  I never played by the rules anyway.

Ayahuasca told me that I’m strong.  So unbelievably strong and talented.  So I asked her, “then why aren’t I smarter?”

Aya – “Your brain wouldn’t be able to handle the overload.  You would lose your mind.  Do yoga.”

My roommates from the ayahuasca Colombian retreat are there again as I sit here writing.  They wanted me to join them so badly.  Even the organizer of the group called me telling me he’d give me a discounted rate – all of them just really wanted me there.  But it’s not my time yet.  After the Camino I feel will be my time again.

This is an example of how we should never be thought of as being alone.  I met these people one time and lived with them for 7 days and a family developed.  And this family will always be here.  They will always be here regardless if I ever see them again, they are here and there’s a connection.  I don’t need them, I don’t want anything from them, but they are always and will be forever in my heart and I in theirs.  With this understanding, we can never be truly alone.

Everyone I meet, I carry with me forever loving them.  Dave may think I abandoned him again and so now I must pay the price, I must be punished.  But in heart, I’m still here with him, will ALWAYS be here with him and love him.  Same goes for Amy and everyone else I don’t see day to day.  I never leave.

My deceased relatives never leave either.  The memory of them, the past that is still alive – that love never dies, never fades.  What happened in the past can never be taken back and that’s including any love you experienced.  It stays in you.  And that’s the stuff worth keeping, worth remembering.  It’s what strength and courage are made from.

So, this guilt I have over ditching people, I feel the guilt of hurting them and exposing them to that harsh world they created through their own fears of abandonment.  I aided in creating that world.  I made them feel alone.  I contributed to that cycle of fear – but it’s a fear that can never be satiated.  No matter what I do, no matter how much I give, it will never be enough.

I’m tired world.  Let me walk these 500 miles in solo.  On my long walk, I shall carry you in my heart.  I walk for us all.  I walk for us sinners and sufferers.

Wow Mel….You are such a bullshitter!

Did I just call myself out on my own bullshit?  Can that happen?  Oh damn I am a bullshitter aren’t I?

Let’s just pretend I’m not bullshitting here and I’m being totally honest, what would be the point of dedicating my walk to all those assholes anyways?  What would it accomplish?  I’m not doing it, I changed my mind, screw that shit.  It’s my camino, I’m walking it for myself.

I just got done massaging for the last 3 hours non-stop and I’m completely drained.  I told myself over and over after my last client left;

“Just go home Melanie, go home.  Put clean sheets on the table, shut off the heat, iPod, salt lamp, table warmer, pack up your dirty sheets, collect tips out of tip box..go home.  Just go home.  You need sleep.”

“Damn I’m hungry I just want some crackers right quick.”

“NO!  If you stay for crackers, you’ll stay for your blog.  DO NOT EAT THE CRACKERS!”

“Oh I forgot I brought strawberries to work yesterday!  I need to at least bring them home before they are forgotten.  I should probably eat them before they go bad.”

“Okay, you can eat the strawberries.”

“And a few crackers?”

“Yes and a few crackers.  Screw it, screw everyone and fucking type you scribbling idjit!”

And that’s where I am right now.  My client left 20 minutes ago, and now I’m hungry and pissy.

Anyway, all that bullshit I written, is any of it truE?  The one and only truth so help me God?  No, of course not.  To me it feels true, but what the hell do I know?  I don’t know anything, or believe in anything.  My perceptions are not chiseled in stone.  But they do however, make me feel better.

It might not be your way, or the right way, the true way, but it’s my way.  It’s my Camino way.  I’m ready for it lock, stock and barrel.  Bring it.

Oh and by the by, feeling guilty sucks.  It’s feeling like you’ve done something wrong.  It’s feeling like I’m harming people, and something must be changed about me.  But I noticed that it’s all those idjits out there who replace their feelings of guilt with anger.  They place the blame on others to lift their own burdens.  I know this because I felt myself going there, trying to reason it out.  It’s that damn pesky brain with its wheels churning (or in my case, a hamster running on his wheel) and spewing out shit.  Reasoning things out to your own liking, is not mindful, respectful or considerate.  Placing blame on others in order to deflect responsibility is what starts wars!  Where there is blame, there is anger and then eventual hate, prejudice, inequality, division of classes….

If only people can open their effin’ eyes and take responsibility for their actions, this world would be a better place.  I mean come on now, it’s common sense, right?  Inequality breeds violence!

Sheeeit….

People are buffoons, complete idjIts I tell you, IDJITS!

This post wouldn’t be here if I didn’t forget to bring my book with me to work today.

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A little about myself

A late 1990's, 60 minute Memorex dBS cassette ...

A late 1990’s, 60 minute Memorex dBS cassette tape with the top cover removed, showing & labeling the insides of the cassette tape. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A telemarketer called me the other day while I was playing spider solitaire at the office.  She had a southern twang and sounded so sweet on the phone. 

Telemarketer – “Now I’m new at this, so I hope I do it right and tell you everything I’m supposed to tell you.”

Me – “Okay, you’re doin’ great.”

I stayed on the phone and listened to her schpiel.  I had nothing better to do.  I wanted to give her practice and confidence (I’m a weirdo like that).

Telemarketer – “How old are you if you don’t mind my asking?”

I had to think about it for a few seconds.  How old am I?  Oh right…but why is she asking?  Oh yeah, I sound naive and too young to afford her magazines.  Any moment she’s going to ask if my mother’s home.

Me – “32”

Telemarketer – “Oh WOW, really?  I’m right there with you girl but you don’t sound it.  You don’t sound a day over 21.”

Me – “Eh, thanks….”

She was being kind, but my voice and the way I come off to others is one of the things I hate about myself.  It’s one reason why I hate talking on the phone.

I have a loving, kind way about me.  I listen to others and care about them – I don’t even have to know them, but I still care about them.  It’s probably because of naivete or innocence, I don’t freakin’ know.  But nothing about it is fake.  There’s nothing artificial about me, maybe that’s considered naive.  Having a young voice doesn’t help.

Perhaps people mistake kindness for ignorance.

I don’t like people thinking I’m innocent, but I can’t help it.  God help me.  No wonder why everyone worries about me.

I feel that people are more likely to get pissed at me more so than at others.  Maybe they consider me as someone who knows better and I have no good excuse for my behaviour because they very well know that I know I did wrong, but I did it anyway.  There’s no wiggle room.  Some people can get away with acting stupid because that’s in their nature, it’s who they are.  But as for me, nobody cuts me any slack. 

Assholes do asshole things.  Nice people doing asshole things are harder to accept and can really hurt others.

I once worked with a slow-minded woman at Stop & Shop.  She was a bagger and I was a cashier.  I felt for her.  She was a bit defensive and ornery, but she had a heart and feelings.  She was working with a bunch of young high school brats who cracked jokes at her, so of course she’d be pissy.

One night at the age of 16 – an age where there’s not many fun activities to do at night, me and my co-workers went over to her house.  We were already in the neighborhood and thought it be nice to pay her a visit.  It felt wrong in my guts and I knew she would take it the wrong way.  If it was just me and my friend that came to visit, it would’ve been okay (she would have been elated!), but instead we brought along three jerky co-workers with us who just wanted to go see the “freak.”

I was against the visit in the first place.  I hung back in the shadows outside while the boys laughed and talked with her from her bedroom window.  I felt like the scum of the earth.  Her sister had to come out and tell us all to leave.

And she WAS pissed.  She forgave everyone except me – the one who stuck up for her and actually cared about her, I was the one she no longer spoke to.

She died in a horrible accident years later.  I never forgave myself for that night at her house.  I did know better. 

If you have two children with a significant age gap, it’s always the older one who gets in trouble, gets the blame.  The little one didn’t know any better.  Well, I’m always considered the older one – not in maturity (heaven knows I’m not mature), but in a different way.  Like, when it comes to matters of the heart.  A wise, caring understanding of people maybe?  When someone like me judges another person, says harsh things to them, it’s felt way more than when your everyday asshole says it.

And when people think I withdrawn my caring, understanding attention, they get spiteful.  It happened with Kristie, and sometimes with Dave (although he loves me too much to ever be rid of me).  It happens with Matt and just about everyone else I ever met.  It never happened with my really good friends though.

It happened with K in Nepal when I told her I didn’t want to hike with her anymore (its a really long story and you can read about it here), and I’m still getting punished for it.

Sometimes I get tired and need a break from everyone.  I have my own problems to deal with.

Telemarketer – “Are you married?  Do you have kids?”

I’m sure that a lot of people would’ve answered that question with a “What business of that is yours?”  Especially when it’s being asked by a complete stranger calling you up trying to sell stuff you don’t need.

But me on the other hand, that thought never entered my mind.

Me – “Ha ha, no.”

Telemarketer – “Oh now that could be why you sound so young.  I only wish I sounded like you.”

Another thing is, I have a tendency to love people in a non-sexual way.  I’m learning that most everybody takes my love in the wrong direction.  I have no ulterior motives or intentions when it comes to others, but they take my attention as being more than it is.  I feel hurt by this and think that the only reason guys stay friends with me is in hopes that one day we can do it.

I have a way with people. 

I was very sensitive, contemplative and reflective as a child – all the ingredients needed to be teased and pushed around.

In all my wonderings and ruminations, I realized at a very young age that all anyone ever wants is to be loved and feel connected to others.  All their actions, every single thing they do is done with the unknowing intent of gaining love and acceptance.  I forgave everybody and learned to accept people.  It opened my heart and changed me.  I guess maybe that’s where my wisdom came from.

I have the knowledge that all anybody wants is love.  I give people that love and connection.  Especially when they have none in their lives.  It’s easy for me to read people like this, and I know that what I give them is important to them.  So when it feels like I’m becoming distant, I get the proverbial shit kicked out of me.

It’s funny how I take the time to understand and connect with others, but instead of them wanting to connect back, they only want to screw me.  Male friendships are very complicated.  However, female friendships aren’t much easier.  At least I know what guys want.  Both sexes get equally fed up with me.

Should I just stop caring about people?  Is that how everyone loses their innocence?

I wish I kept all this crap in a private journal.  Nobody cares about what goes on in my head and writing a blog is pompous in that way. 

I stopped telling people about my blog a long time ago.  Writing a blog doesn’t make me special.  It makes me vulnerable.  I keep wanting to stop, but I can’t.  I feel like if I let too much slip by, everything becomes meaningless.  My life becomes empty when I have nothing of substance to look back on and learn from.  It’s like having a blank cassette tape with no music recorded.  And I love making Melanie Mega Mixes.

I’m sweaty, tired and have on no pants.  This laptop is really hot.  I’m thirsty.  This whole post started from one simple telemarketing call.  I can’t stop my brain!  I write a lot more than I publish, mostly everything I write is still a draft. 

I can’t wait to take some of those Columbian drugs.  My brothers fiancé know’s a girl from Columbia.  I told her where I’m going (upper regions of the Amazon in Putumayo and the valley of Sibundoy) and she replies back saying that it’s one of the most dangerous places in Columbia and she would NEVER under any circumstance go there. 

I wasn’t scared before, but now I’m a bit worried. 

I stereotype people – I love them, but still stereotype them.  An old man yesterday gave me a $20 tip all paid in half dollars for example.  Old men love change.  Who the hell carries around $20 worth of half dollars in their pocket other than old men?  Well, I do now apparently….

But anyway, I don’t have any stereotypes to assign people from Columbia.  These are the times when I don’t mind being blissfully ignorant – I don’t get scared.  The only thing I can connect Columbia with is the old 1980’s movie, Jewel of the Nile with what’s his face and sexy voice lady (forgot their names).  Colombians are comical ruffians who love romance novels, they call their vehicles Little Mules and throw enemies into crocodile pits.  I don’t have much to go on.

No wonder why people worry about me.

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Filed under All about me, journal, random thoughts, Self help, Writing

Sentimental Melanie

"TUESDAY" production sign

Image by Vaguely Artistic via Flickr

I’m at Starbucks sipping on a free venti gingerbread latte.  Why is it free?  It’s my compensation for having two bags of coffee fall on my melon.

Yesterday was Tuesday and I made my regular barfly roundabouts.  My first stop was Happy Tuesday, where I was cheered at and sang to by the regular motley crew.  After visiting those guys, I drove to Billy O’s where I was greeted warmly by the entire bar.  People hugged me in earnest while my brother shoved his award winning chili in my hand that he brought for everyone to try.

I can NOT tell you enough how much I love being around people who love me.  I’m addicted to this feeling of warmth, this cradling, comforting security.  Everyone feels like a warm snug blanket.  Everyone feels like home.

I can be a sentimental sap – truly the most genuine sentimental sap there can be.  But it’s problematic.  I’m so addicted to this ethereal love all around that I’m obliquely sensitive to its absence.  Sometime’s I forget it’s there and go back to being my old miserable, misanthropic self and because of this, I shall always be a barfly.  Barfly is in my bones.

The purpose of this post is to wrap up this warm loving feeling into a gift for my future self.  I want to package it up, put a ribbon around it and never forget.  But I will forget it.  I always do.

 

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All you need is love, bum shuboody bum

I’m in the habit of loving everyone.  I love most people that I come in contact with no matter who they are or what they do.  I make a conscious decision to find what’s loveable about them, and in doing so, I escape my own enveloping thoughts for a while. 

I find flaws to be the most loveable, defining characteristic in a person.  I don’t mean that I love people with psychiatric disorders, but simple flaws like mismatched socks, or a slight stutter – anything that exposes their indefensible humanity.  Their fallible, but true identity among the general populace – a beacon shining on their superior uniqueness.

The people who leave themselves exposed and vulnerable to the world, are those that I find most irresistable.  The more awkward and meek, the more they capture my heart.  Some people cover up their insecurities with aloof, or callous behaviour – making dry jokes, or acting sullen, I love those people, too!  Very few can circumvent my loving nature.  And what’s best of all (according to my book, “The Road Less Traveled”) is that I make a conscious choice to love them.  I don’t need to love anybody, but I choose to.  On days when I feel tired and want to be alone to sulk in my sleep deprived thoughts, I don’t love anybody on those days.

The people that I don’t love, or can’t love, are people who get satisfaction by hurting others.  I’m not always consciously aware when I meet these characters, but my subconscious spot’s them for me.  My body (soul) also refuses to love people who are inconsiderate.  Some people want to mean well, but want is not the same as do (and some people don’t even want). These personalities, unlike the one’s who like to purposely hurt others, just don’t care either way about the emotional well-being of an other.  They are to some degree, (I know it sounds harsh, but…..) sociopaths.  The people who like to hurt others, they are sadistic.  My inner workings secretly know when I meet these types, and my mojo gets covertly shut down, and my draw-bridge goes up. 

I don’t meet many of these personalities.  In fact, I can probably count them all on one hand.  But there are degree’s to everything.  We may all be a little sadistic, or sociopathic to some degree.  Like, when someone is annoying you so bad that you want to inflict the same, if not more, distress on them.  Or when someone hurt you so bad that you turn off all modes of caring for that individual.  We all do it, but most likely our choice to do it is warranted, and among the best of us, it is warranted and well thought-out.

Wow, I’m completely off my original topic.  I just ran on an unprecedented tangent that came out of nowhere.  All I wanted to write, originally, was that I love my clients.  And that some of them are so special to me, that it feels ‘fated’ or scripted that we have met.

If my life were a movie, these special people would be the stereotypical support characters that take on the roles of assuring me that life is a spectacular journey filled with meaning and wonder.  These people come in all forms; from meek, shy cops, to zany, robust women.

Today I massaged a retired, blue-collar worker from Long Island.  He’s my old-wise council support character.  Everything about him is true and good – predictable and bedrock.  His voice is not unique.  It’s the same voice you would imagine a 62-year-old working man from Long Island would sound like – warm, velvety and deep.  With him, I can’t find any flaws.  Perhaps I’m the one with the loveable foibles in this dynamic relationship.

We talked through the whole session.  Today we discussed, again, about my upcoming trip to South Korea.

Him – It’s going to be one heck of a trip.  You’ll never forget it.  Is there anything specific that you’re looking forward to seeing?

Me – Hmm…..Well, I guess seeing the temple’s would be cool.  I’m interested in the architecture of their buildings,  and food.  I love different kinds of food, so I’m really looking forward to eating.

Him – Ha ha, I like food, too.  Very much.

He wanted to talk about my trip for the whole hour.  He wanted to know how I felt about it, how my parents felt about it, and he kept reassuring me that is was going to be brilliant.

He told me about a cross country trip he taken by himself when he was 35 and recently divorced.  He said it was liberating.  Now he is happily remarried to his more suitable counterpart, whom is also my astute client with lots of wisdom of her own to impart on me.

As we were saying our goodbye’s for the evening, he looked me in the eye and said that I’m the only therapist he would ever go to.  He is a very loyal and committed supporting character indeed.  I have very few clients of that caliber.

I’m one lucky girl.  I mean, to come in contact so frequently with memorable, soul enriching beings on a daily basis is one thing, but to be aware of it is another.  I look at people with my eyes open.

Now you know a little bit more about me, not that you really care or anything.  That’s the beauty of blogging, nobody really cares what I write (especially if I only write about myself).  People want entertaining and interesting posts.  Writing about how much I love my clients, is neither of those.

For those of you who made it to the end of this post, you are rewarded with a John Stewart, Moment of Zen:

Mom – There’s cool whip in the fridge if you want it with your jello.

Me – You’re pronouncing it wrong.

Mom – What?  Cool whip?

Me – It’s pronounced Coo-Hwhip.

Mom – Cool whip.

Me – Coo-Hwhip.

Mom – Cool whip.

Me – Coo-Hwhip.

Mom – Cool whip.

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