Monday, August 31, 2009

Abundance, Wealth, Transparency - It must be Monday!

I Love You Guys -

I am so filled with gratitude for the support that flows from You to Me and from Me to You. I had been having a bit of a rough patch there for a few weeks, I could tell the story, but I am done with the old victim story. Just a wee bit of resistance to what God has in store for me. Feeble attempts to control what he has to tell me. I am trusting, God, my heart -- aren't they really just one and the same? I am now accepting, following my heart and taking action accordingly. Life is a process, I have my ups and my downs, yet I know it's all fucking perfect. Even the shite that sucks ass. So yes there may be some hate filled, sick of it all, poor me posts yet to come, not to worry.

I went to my Wizard School graduation yesterday. It was an inspiration. To see all of those shining beacons of Love and Light stand in the truth of who they really are was beautiful and overwhelming. Congratulations to all the Graduates! They earned their wands, dug deep and found their wings, now they fly. I do believe I dehydrated myself a bit from the all the tears (Yes I am a softie, and I will dropkick anyone who reminds me of that). I have unofficially started my Second Year of wizard training, class is in session and I am surrendering to the process. I look forward to the actual class starting in October.

My heart sings this morning as I report BS abundance -

Last Seven Days -- 154 Page Impressions -- 38 Advertiser Clicks -- $16.15
All Time -- 1522 Page Impressions --183 Advertiser Clicks -- $77.28

Truly I am touched, honored, and blessed. Thank You!

In releasing the old story, I am creating the room for new stories to flow through me. I am committed to writing to you all, your patience was appreciated as I surrendered.

Take a walk today, even around the block. I did, it was magical, the Universe sang to me, Butterflies and Bees, my usual serenaders, reminding me that I am right where I am suppose to be and that all I need to do is trust. Or don't take a walk, sit down and send me your comments, suggestions, complaints or praise. Your feedback is always appreciated.

Love, Light and a big BS THANK YOU to you!

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Goodbye Ted

I just learned of the passing of Edward Kennedy today. Being a boy from Massachusetts, an Irish Catholic Boy from Massachusetts, I've always had pride in the Clan Kennedy. They were the ideal family, something to strive for, warts and all. They were like any other family (the super rich version), their struggles were our struggles, they had the courage to face their issues and take action. Yes sometimes that action was to attempt to hide their foibles, yet that made them even more likable. The cracks in their armor allowed me to see their humanity, to see myself.

I am a Momma's boy, proud of it, so I followed in my Mom's footsteps, both in religion and in politics. I am no longer a practicing Catholic, nor is my Mom, but we are still Kennedy Loving Democrats. My Dad was a Kennedy Loathing Republican. And a Protestant. Yes their is WASP blood running through my veins!

This afternoon as I read of his death, I thought of my favorite Ted story. I thought of my Dad.

When my brother Bob died in September 2001 the world reached out to my parents to express their sorrow for their loss. A surreal time. One of those surreal moments was a phone call from Ted. My Mom was quite surprised. A beautiful gesture of love and support in a troubling time. She chatted with him, about what I am not sure, I'll have to ask her. Ted wanted to express his condolence to my Dad as well. My Mom put her hand over the phone, yelled into the other room to my Dad "Jimmy, Ted Kennedy is on the phone and wants to talk to you." My Dad in all his subtly, in all his subversive brilliant humor, hollered back to my Mom "I never voted for the bum, why the hell would I want to talk to him." And so my Mom thanked him for the call, and my Dad and Ted never did talk and a story of legend was born.

Today I think of two great men who have moved on. Two men who've inspired me in very different ways. I hope they are chatting now, realizing they have much in common, and having a laugh at the conversation that never happened.

Goodbye Ted. Thank you for bravery, your leadership, your ability to overcome adversity. You've been a beacon of hope and change, a beacon of stability.


Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Weekly Report

Hello There

I've not been posting recently. My pardon. Getting some bugs out of the system known as me. Was feeling a bit down in the dumps and all of the actions I could have taken to get myself out of said dumps I chose not to take. I chose to continue to wallow. An old choice that I believe I have moved on from once again. Like smoking. I was a non smoker for a bit, then went back to them after I had an emotional booboo, now I am back on the healthy track. Doing things to make myself happy and not thinking about what might have been or what may not be, things that just aren't serving me anymore. I am taking action, that is my thing, actions to nurture and love me. And one of those is reaching out to you all, my loyal masses, for I love you heaps and heaps.

Our Monday Check In that has been a Tuesday Check In the past two weeks, yet I am going to stick to calling it a Monday Check In of our Abundance and Wealth. I am a brilliantly rich man!

Last Seven Days -- 117 Page Impressions -- 17 Clicks -- $6.05
All Time -- 1386 PI -- 143 Clicks -- $61.64

Hot diggity dog. Thank you all. We here at BS get our first check from Google when we hit $100. Perhaps this week we can hit that mark as I intend to post and get the word out there. You never know. I am open to give and receive.

Love, Light and Superior Firepower,

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Our Weekly Report

Hello Loyal Fans

First my pardon for not posting. I've been wallowing and writing, now I am just writing. Okay an occasional wallow, yet not so much anymore. I went back to some old prisons I created when I hurt a bit, now I am back out. Free on bail!

I promise I will post brilliance this week. That's for true. Maybe even about Prisons (Woooo A Teaser!) I am adjusting to life without internet in my house.Our friends over at brought this idea to BS back in July, it really stuck with us and now we've made it happen. Such a weight off my shoulders, a relief. I realized I was using it to avoid myself. The Red Sox are my team, but they weren't subsidizing my lifestyle so I could read about them for hours a day. I knew I had to stop abusing this wonderful tool, and so it moved across the street. Thank God! Now if I want to check out the box score, my email, what madcap adventures are going on in Facebook world, I have to physically leave my apartment, walk out to my front stairs and log on. It's brilliant! I can't recommend it enough if you find yourself staring at a screen with a bit of drool running down your chin. And "using" internet porn on the front steps is apparently a violation of some arcane Santa Monica law.

So the Abundance and Wealth Numbers. On a Tuesday, as promised, if I missed the promised Monday!

Last Seven Days -- 83 Page Impressions -- 4 Clicks -- $1.63
All Time -- 1269 Page Impressions -- 128 Clicks -- $56.15

Thank you all for your support. Fuck I did no work on the blog since last Monday and made $1.63. Not too shabby if you ask me.

I am off to cook some chorizo and eggs! Mmmmmmmmmm.....

Love, Light and Tubed Meats,

Monday, August 10, 2009

Abundance and Transparent Monday!

Not what we have but what we enjoy, constitutes our abundance. - Epicurus

Greetings Fellow BSers,

Today we continue our journey of co-creating brilliance and abundance. As our board of directors ratified last week, BS will be announcing our earnings each and every Monday. We feel that transparency in business is a great thing, so we are walking the walk. No that doesn't mean I will be sharing all of my other revenue streams with you, just the ones we are in together. And I believe this is a group effort, together we can build something. What? I'm not sure, yet I am starting to see glimpses, listening to my guides and taking action.

So every Monday I will share the numbers with you, unless the BS is out of Internet range, exploring The Andes, traveling from La Paz to Machu Pichu; Or was out the night before with Levon Helm drinking whiskey and playing guitar; Or am cage diving while on the Great White Shark World Tour; Or felt like playing rainy day and pulled the shades, watched movies while pounding sarsaparilla; Or am in India deepening my connection to the Universe, chanting til my heart buzzes from my chest; Or am in a holding cell "For My Own Safety"; Or am at Game Four of the Red Sox sweep of whoever the chump is from the National League; Or am on my honeymoon, dancing naked on the beach; Or am at the gym (okay I pushed it too far with that one). Then it would be another day; like Tuesday; or Wednesday mid-afternoon, while having a snack; or the following Monday.

Yet we are going to strive for each and every Monday. And my word is my law. So without further ado, the numbers.........

Seven Days -- 429 Page Impressions -- 32 Clicks -- $10.20
All Time -- 1,123 Page Impressions -- 111 Clicks -- $47.34

I want to thank you all for your support. It is amazing to reflect back how far we have come on this little experiment of ours. Truly I am blessed. I am doing what I love to do, AND I am getting paid for it. Fucking unfuckingbelievably fucking fanfuckingtastic.

Certainly I still am a whack job, yet a whack job very happy in his skin. My comfort zone gets pushed further and further out each day, each moment. And for that, for my courage, for the support of you all, I bubble with gratitude.

I will be back on the West Coast tonight. Been contemplating and writing about the effective use of feedback and will be sharing that with you in the coming days. Or rather, my ineffective use of it in the past and my attempts at using it as a force for change in my life now. And speaking of feedback - fuck I am the king of segues - you, my super hip way cool fans, are my bread and butter, so your input is always welcome. Make a comment, throw a rock through my window, offer up some sweet lovin'. I'd love to hear from you.

Keep your heart open, your eyes on the magic, and a bitter taste in your mouth,

Friday, August 7, 2009


Greetings Loyal Followers!

We here at Bitter Spiritualist would like to thank you for your amazing support. The Love helps me keep our beautiful bitterness flowing like sickening sweet syrup. A globby gooey mess of Love. I need to wash my hands, the keyboard feels like a candied apple of Love.

The site is in transition, constantly I hope, for it is a living breathing beast that we are co-creating. The design has changed a bit, and by that I mean we added some pretty colors. The beast she shed some old skin, reborn. Like the phoenix, and will burn and be reborn again and again and again............ Yes I am a pyro.

The BS board met last night, discussing new policies and procedures. It was a meeting filled with Love and occasional gunfire. After the dust cleared and the holes were patched the following items were ratified.

1.) The weekly earnings of BS will be announced on Mondays. Included will be the tally for the previous week, and our earnings to date. We felt that it was something to look forward to at the beginning of the work week. Your support, the simple clicking on one of our advertisers dramatically increases our wealth. Seriously it does, right now that is the only revenue stream, directly clicking on the ads. We have to get a web expert on our staff to go over the numbers, what they mean and see how we can increase our abundance. Right now the team is winging it. Why not make it a game, see how high we can get that number. Tell your friends, fuck with your enemies. We here are doing our part, and by our part I mean getting the word out on the street and badgering folks. We can not click on the ads ourselves, we signed a pledge with Google that we wouldn't artificially fill our coffers. And we like to operate with integrity, most of the time. As for the ad content that is up to Google, I know not a great deal of you need tarot cards or wealth manifestation CDs or spiritual transformation pills, but each click is for the children, think of the children.

2.) We have made an addendum to the no names policy. If you are deceased the BS board feels it is okay (legal) to associate you with our site. To the living, please stay that way and know that your stories may make it on to our site, but never your name. Unless you okay it or you really really get under my skin. So watch yourself.

3.) After hundreds of requests from the general public, we investigated how to become an official follower of Bitter Spiritualist. It seems the good people at Google want you to be on their team before you can be on our team. Signing up for a Google account appears to be the only way. It's relatively easy and it is a tremendous way to stroke our ego. So it's a win win.

4.) We promise to infuse more controversy into this site. This whole bliss thing is a great way to live, it really is, but boy am I getting sick of that saccharin goodness on the site. We need some bite baby. If you want pure beautiful love we have blogs we follow where you can get that. We are bringing back the tang, taste it mothafuckas.

5.) We can now be followed on Twitter. The BS is liking Twitter, micro-blogging is immediate gratification. Sure it could be a fad, like blogging, seat belts, computers, Candlepin bowling, and soft serve ice cream, but we like a fad. So if you like, follow us at

Thanks for reading. Without you I would just be writing to me and the staff. Your insights are always welcome here at BS, either emailing directly or through the comments section. We really do love it. And if you find and read our words through facebook, thank you, then click directly onto our site and make comments. Facebook is doing just fine without us, we'd love for you to visit us and comment directly, cutting out the middle man. Or you can show up at our office door, bring a snack, I like cake over pie, brownies over cake.

Have a fantastic magical weekend. Mine is going to be filled with appreciation and gratitude. I may not be getting everything I want, yet I am living such an amazing life. The dance continues. Thank you!

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

My Brother Chris

To all of you who have expressed your love to me and my clan, I thank you.

I just wrote a few words to say tonight at the service celebrating the life of my brother Chris. Yes it's an addendum to the BS policies, names of deceased relatives can be used, the living have been omitted. We have an Irish wake and service for him tonight, and commit his ashes to the ground in the morning. He will be buried with the remains of my brother Bob, beside my Dad.


My brother was a warrior, he fought battles with the world, and within himself. His struggles the stuff of epic tales.

My favorite story of the warrior, involves me, of course. I was about twelve and my moped got stolen. Yes I had a moped, hey I was twelve, it was cool, trust me. Thinking back on it, I’m shocked my mom actually let me have one. One day mine disappeared from near our house in the South End. The details elude me, I do know I was devastated. Through some reconnaissance and spy work Chris and my brother Bob found out who pinched my wheels. How they extracted the information or who it even was I don’t remember. I do remember sitting in Chris’s car waiting in this unfortunate fellows neighborhood. Me in the backseat, excited and nervous, worried if I was going to get my ride back, wondering what would actually happen if this kid did happen by. Chris and Bob in the front seat discussing strategy.

Right on cue we heard the distinct sound of my moped coming up the street, she had a manly two stroke purr to her. Bob and Chris were like super heroes in action. Out of the car in a flash as the culprit turned the corner driving my hard earned ride. They yanked him off the moped in an orchestrated attack that would make Batman proud. Bob holding the moped. Chris grabbing this poor schmuck. Boy had he stolen the wrong kid’s bike. Chris picked this fellow up, threw him onto the hood of the car and slapped him around. A few smacks from his meat hooks, a couple of whacks of his head against the hood. “Don’t ever mess with my little brother again” was the message. The actual words elude me, the actual words probably a bit to colorful for this gathering. I sat in the backseat, eyes wide, full of joy and full of pride. These two were my heroes. I had my moped back and the rest of the older thugs in the South End knew, mess with me, and you’d have to deal with my warrior brother Chris. Word traveled fast, I was blessed that my warrior brother had my back, so I was the untouchable by the older hoodlums.

He took that warrior mentality through a lot of his life. His armor - his tattoos and his intimidating size. You could see his big heart underneath his armor, he would provide glimpses of his heart and a smile. Never more so than when he talked of his son. He loved him so much. He was proud of him. That love and pride evident, the warrior was a big softie at heart. And his heart cried when talking of our brother Bob. When Bob died a piece of Chris died with him. His best friend was gone, taken from him far too young. Years later, when my Dad died, his heart broke. He had had enough. Soon after he suffered a stroke, his will had been broken. His brothers in arms were dead, he was the last man standing.

I visited Chris a few weeks ago with my mom. I was shocked to see him. His armor had been removed. My armor had been removed, mine being sarcasm and an acid tongue, not so much intimidation. I really saw him clearly for the first time. Saw him for the beautiful soul he was, doing the very best he could with his life. Disease had taken his conscious thought, yet I had never seen his eyes sparkle more clearly. He called me Bob several times. And when I asked him if he was having fun he told me he always loved spending time with Mom and Dad, Dad being Me.

I realized I was a stand in for his two best friends. He then told me he was ready to leave, he wanted to go home. And home he has gone. I know he is with his best friends now, Dad and Bob. Probably doing a little fishing. Checking out the beautiful ladies as they stroll by. Having a laugh. And smiling, knowing that his son has turned out to be a caring courageous young man. He is proud of you, and he loved you so. This I know.

In closing, It’s said that the biggest souls get the biggest challenges. My Mom is the biggest soul I know. Her love has seen our clan through some challenging times these past eight years. No parent should outlive their child. My mom has outlived two sons. Mom I love you. You are an inspiration, a lesson for me in perseverance and the power of love. A shining example, a beacon of light in these foggy times.

Thank you.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Fifteen Years to Find This Moment

It took me fifteen years to get to this perfect moment.

Nobody ever accused the Bitter Spiritualist of being quick on the uptake. Nobody. Fifteen years ago I started to wake up, got scared, attempted to take a nap for the better part of a decade, and now am wide awake. Or I have gone off the deep end, made a complete societal break and will be institutionalized any moment. Either way I am going to share the beginning of my wake up call. My story, the story that landed me in this moment, the eternal bliss of the here and now.

I was the Bitter Performer for a long time. As talented and humble I am as a writer, I was tenfold as an actor. A shy kid, big imagination, teller of tall tales, a lover of movies and television,. They were, and are, a place of entertainment and comfort for me. It surprised me when I listened to, and acted on, the voice inside me that said be an actor. Huh? It scared me to my core, being in front of people was not my comfort zone, more my cringe zone. Through a series of choreographed randomnesses I began my journey in earnest at an acting studio in New York City, Manhattan Edge. Cheesy name, amazing place, teaching actors to work moment to moment, whatever that meant. I would leave work, take the subway uptown, have a casual vomit on the sidewalk, break out in a glistening sheen of sweat, sheen to rivulets, and walk up the stairs to the studio.

My brilliantly crazy teacher, we'll call her The Gambler, stuck by for months as I would begrudgingly get up on stage and freeze up. Reciting lines by rote, automated, autopiloted, the only emotion, gut busting, piss inducing fear with a splash of occasional anger. Maybe she needed the cash, maybe she liked having a full class listen to her sing Kenny Rogers, maybe she saw my courage to keep coming back when any self respecting sane person would run to the nearest saloon for a whiskey or six. Yet I kept coming back, week after painful week, sweat stained and vomit breathed, I would sit in the corner dreading my time to work. Embarrassed, hiding, worried about my poor classmates, how uncomfortably boring they must have been watching me crash and burn, how awful I was. Yet I was young and stupid, a beautiful combination to keep doing what your heart tells you to do. A quality I am reclaiming!

Then one night it happened. I popped. Pop! I was onstage by myself, doing by best robot, teetering on the brink of something. Teetering on the brink of the moment. The Gambler kept nudging me, prodding me with her emotional dildo. Trying to get me to feel, to let go and share myself with the class. And then it happened. Pop! I was a laughing, crying, screaming, yelling, snotty beast, a howling wolf, tapped into a well I knew not existed. In awe at it's depth, it's power, it's freedom. Who was this guy? I want to get to know more of him. I was feeling. Twenty plus years of pent up emotion came flooding out of me. I tingled from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I had never felt more alive in all my life. I was working, in the moment. The perfect mix of ecstasy and amphetamines. Ahhh Just right. The exercise stopped, I retreated to the recesses of my mind, yet knew that I had had a profound experience. That the veil had been pulled back, my eyes opened, and I felt something more powerful than I knew existed. I was beginning to wake up.

Soon thereafter I found myself at The Gambler's acting camp in upstate New York. Ten days in the woods with a bunch of people that scared the fuck out of me, learning how to act and emote, learning how act in the moment. Intense. I was getting more and more comfortable diving into my emotional well, being in the moment on stage, I knew it was safe, it felt great, and chicks dug it. I still would resist, but The Gambler was there to push me, get me out of my head and into my heart. If felt great to feel, and to give that feeling a voice. And I was an actor, working, and my job was to be in the moment, acting.

Two fellows in that camp really wigged me out. I'd seen them at the studio, they were real theatre folk. Brilliant resumes performing high brow stuff I only pretended to like or read. Shakespeare? Godot? I was more on the movie star track. I will call them Earth and Air, for one seemed just about ready to float to the heavens, and the other to plant roots where he stood. Something about them disturbed my peace, big time. Not a word said to them in our previous meets, I'm sure I mocked them, silently, they freaked me the fuck out. Later I learned they were healers and energy workers.

Yeah me too. Healers? Energy workers? Hippies, they didn't dress the part, but they fell into my category of hippies. New Age phooey shysters, preying on the weak minded. A tarnished Catholic boy, I was convinced that God did not exist. Sure if he came down in his long white robes and talked to me, I may have said hello and did his bidding. And I had my bases covered, I was confirmed for Christ sakes, but from what I'd seen and experienced, God was a genius work of fiction. Pure entertainment for desperate fools and morons. But Air and Earth were nice guys, for hippie snake oil salesmen, so I found myself circling their orbit. More for comic material to laugh about, and they would laugh with me.

After a particularly courageous exercise in emoting, I sat in my chair on the grass, feeling great. Earth and Air beside me, their peaceful serenity annoying as always. And then it happened, I was attacked, viciously, without warning, an attack that would change my life forever. By a butterfly. This menacingly beautiful little butterfly started dancing around my head. Earth and Air, chuckling as I became concerned. What did I have in my hair that was so attractive to this pest? Was I seeing things? I moved my chair, and the little fellow followed me. I was not getting away from him. I gently tried swatting him away, and he would elude me and come right back, circling.

Earth and Air started to share with me about animal magic, animal medicine, and that the butterfly was a sign of transformation. Yeah, yeah, sure it is weirdos, sell your tonics someplace else, this cat ain't buying. It must be my shampoo. But as much as I tried to deny it, that little fucker would not leave me alone. He seemed to have an agenda. I became annoyed and they became amused, the two New Age ooey gooeys assuring me it was okay, I didn't have to believe anything I didn't want to. You're damn fucking right hippies! And which one of you sprayed me with butterfly musk?

So the day went on, more acting exercises and fun. The day over, twilight settling in, the sky begin to reveal her panorama of stars, I sat by the pool alone, unwinding, denying, wondering what the fuck was going on. And it started to rain, a gentle torrent of stars started raining down on me. Sparkles of light flowing out of the sky falling to earth. I couldn't believe my eyes; I was seeing things; Something was seriously wrong with me; I was tired; My eyes were tired; They must have spiked lunch; This country air does strange things to city folk; I needed a cigarette; Definitely someone had slipped me a mickey. I came up with a million excuses to prove that this was not happening. I couldn't be, I didn't know what it was, but whatever it was it couldn't be happening. Unequivocally this was not happening. No fucking way. Then the butterfly came back for one final hello, circling my head, silently whispering in my air that I wasn't crazy, that I wasn't alone. A whispered wake up, that for the first time I was seeing.

Tears flowing down my cheeks, the butterfly flew away, his job done, the door opened, a new messenger to take his place, Air coming out to enjoy the evening air. I attempted to tell him what I had just experienced, attempted to deny what was happening, trying desperately to get some control back, get some proper distance and deniability. He smiled and quoted Shakespeare "There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

I worked with Earth for years off and on, learning about this magical world I was introduced to, this being I didn't recognize when I looked in the mirror. Sure I've had bumps in the road, detours, years denying it to myself, building up a layer of protection, letting my ego run the show. Well I am back, another layer of truth was revealed to me this past week. The years lying to myself were perfect, exactly what I needed to get to this moment, the moment that really only exists.

I am learning and loving. And it takes work, it takes conscious intention to remain awake to the moment. Any beautiful garden needs attention, some weeding, and I am excited to roll up my sleeves and get to work, digging. I may have bumps in the road, I know this, or maybe I won't. I know that I no longer need years of retreat, I can transform in a moment. I AM WIDE AWAKE.

I am done with my story! I am excited to let life unfold in each perfect moment. Let's continue with this grand experiment, I'm releasing this story, it's now off to the Universe. I'm going to go play with Jolly - that's my Mom's dog perverts.