The old adage that Santa is watching us to see if we are naughty or nice has been coming up for me today as I fill with gratitude for all I was given this Christmas. My inner Santa was quite surprised with all that I received. I thought I was naughty this year. Turns out I was really nice.
Well far be it for me to argue with the fat feller from the north, so I am taking it as a sign that I have been nice. Nice to my fellow man, and really starting to be nice to myself. Part of being nice to myself is acknowledging and owning that I am doing the very best I can in each moment. Sure I have times when I am hard on myself still, but they are becoming less and less. It's doing the things I want to do. When I don't, I don't. I don't have to sit around berating myself for not doing them, I just have to feel how it feels and make new choices. I'm letting go of that old story. I am making strides each day to be gentle with myself, to be nice to myself. In turn I find that I am nicer to those around me. That truly brings me Joy - Joy To The World.
Naughty. Nice. They are both judgments really. How do I feel? How do I feel, that is the question I am asking myself. How do I feel in each moment, about the choices I make. Choices made fresh and new, and being aware of those choices. Conscious choices! They feel so much better than making choices unconsciously, reacting to old hurts, making choices out of habit, choices that help keep my story alive, choices that don't serve my highest good. That doesn't feel so great, so when I ask myself how I feel, I know. Take that feedback in and make new choices.
I do hope that Santa or Papa Hanukkah or Puff 'n Fresh, whoever you celebrate this time of year was good to you. We are all doing the best we can in each moment. Celebrate that! Let go of your story. You know the one, the many, the "reasons" you make choices that don't make you feel GREAT. I know I sure do.
I look forward to 2010. It's the year I turn from Bitter to Happy. Yes Bitter to Sweet sounds much better, but sweet just doesn't resonate as a goal for me. I am walking my walking more and more each day, and 2010 is the next step on my journey.
I'll be checking in this week, gearing up for the New Year, but wanted to say hello tonight from my hometown. Writing in the room I grew up in. A room and a house full of old stories that I am letting go of so I can live a beautiful rich full life in each new moment. The past is exactly where it is suppose to be, in the past. The future, yup, right where it is suppose to be, in the future. Tonight I feel alive. A little sore from my late night fall in the back yard - ouch - I did save the sandwich and most of the milkshake, but my knee and hip took the brunt of the fall. It was a good sandwich.
Love, Light and Laughs to you all,
BS
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Greetings from North Pole
So I'm not that far North, but it's cold and there's ten inches of snow on the ground here in my hometown. The BS offices have been shut down. The staff is of course being paid during the Holiday break - thanks in large part to the great State of California.
While away from the home office, I am racking my brain to come up with my own "Julie & Julia" idea for the coming year. That blog has been put in brought to my attention time and time again over the past few months. Bitter Spiritualist needs some kind of hook to keep readers coming back, something for me to focus on. I am a huge fan of cooking shows, but I'm not going to pinch her great idea. I need my own. Something to report back to you about. I've a few ideas percolating and will be announcing what I will be doing in the weeks to come.
What I do know that 2010 is going to be a great year. Also it will be just about nine months from January 1 until I graduate from Wizard School. Nine months. Yes a rebirth time for BS. So that's a good foundation to start with. Now don't you worry, I'm not going to become a Born Again, not that there's anything wrong with that, but it's definitely not for me.
Your thoughts/ideas/direction, your feedback, is not only welcome, it's encouraged. I'd appreciate the input, it makes my job so much easier.
One thing that will be happening in 2010 is our collaboration with the folks over at Soul Diving. I'm excited about it, the brief break was needed to get some clarity on that part of the BS experiment. The details haven't been worked out as of yet, but Honeybee and her gang of lovey doveys are committed, as are we at BS. It should make for a fun time and, hopefully, a great read.
I'm off soon to say hello to my nieces and decorate some cookies. Just like Julia would do, but not as fancy, or as French.
Love, Light and Laughs,
BS
While away from the home office, I am racking my brain to come up with my own "Julie & Julia" idea for the coming year. That blog has been put in brought to my attention time and time again over the past few months. Bitter Spiritualist needs some kind of hook to keep readers coming back, something for me to focus on. I am a huge fan of cooking shows, but I'm not going to pinch her great idea. I need my own. Something to report back to you about. I've a few ideas percolating and will be announcing what I will be doing in the weeks to come.
What I do know that 2010 is going to be a great year. Also it will be just about nine months from January 1 until I graduate from Wizard School. Nine months. Yes a rebirth time for BS. So that's a good foundation to start with. Now don't you worry, I'm not going to become a Born Again, not that there's anything wrong with that, but it's definitely not for me.
Your thoughts/ideas/direction, your feedback, is not only welcome, it's encouraged. I'd appreciate the input, it makes my job so much easier.
One thing that will be happening in 2010 is our collaboration with the folks over at Soul Diving. I'm excited about it, the brief break was needed to get some clarity on that part of the BS experiment. The details haven't been worked out as of yet, but Honeybee and her gang of lovey doveys are committed, as are we at BS. It should make for a fun time and, hopefully, a great read.
I'm off soon to say hello to my nieces and decorate some cookies. Just like Julia would do, but not as fancy, or as French.
Love, Light and Laughs,
BS
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Excuses, Magic Men and Holiday Gift Ideas!
My apologies for not being around for a bit, I've been busy. Which is just a lame excuse. I hate excuses, which goes brilliantly with my own self-loathing. So I thought I'd write this morning, even though I've not much to say, but at least I'm not making excuses.
I'm finding that it's harder and harder to come up with excuses to not take action. Reasons are a different story, reasons are really really good excuses. I love that old expression excuses are like assholes, everyone’s got one. And it's true I do have an asshole, who I will introduce later in this post, and I could come up with excuses for all the things I haven't done in my life. Like why I've not posted in a bit -- for sake of word count to fill up the page a bit this morning I'll give it a whirl.
I worked all last week, early mornings, days filled with the glitz and glamour of Hollywood. Then I had Wizard School this weekend where I took another step toward getting my broom and my wand. After all that, I had to get up even earlier on Monday to go finish up last week's job. Yesterday was out of the question, I mean I couldn't write yesterday. It was my first day off and a quite some time and I had to do laundry and clean up my apartment and go for coffee and read a book and blah blah blah, blah (word count increasing) blah, blah, blah..........
Lame excuses. I am guessing, but I would bet that all those excuses, however feebly I tried to sell them were just a healthy dose of resistance. Again I am learning and this is all just practice, so today I am learning that lame excuses just aren't really sitting anymore. It feels good. Like I wrote before, if this a worthwhile post, an insightful funny post I wrote it, if not God did it.
In the past the excuses were much more infused with life, they were my life. My life was too hard to live. You wouldn't understand because my pain was so much greater than yours. My leaden cross was so much heavier that your cross. Back then when I actually believed the press I was feeding my brain, those weren't excuses, they were my reality. In hindsight they were excuses for not giving myself my life, I just didn't know any better. Or I was too deep in the misery to believe any other options. Thankfully those days are fewer and fewer, I just really got sick and tired of playing the old tape. Fuck excuses, lay the cards on the table and see what happens.
I woke up this morning wanting to write and attempted to keep myself from doing so. I came up with a few halfhearted excuses. The bed being warm and toasty was a good one. I had nothing to write about another good one, and by where this is going a valid one. But the reality is I have made commitments to myself (and to you) that I want to keep. And for better or worse one of those commitments was posting here twice a week. Sure I want to post things that I think are funny and maybe a little insightful, but that wasn't one of the requirements I set up for myself. Those are just excuses to not write and not post and I am learning here.
Another nickel excuse for not posting is that the home offices of BS is going through some restructuring. I noticed that there was some ooey gooey guy showing up at the meetings. Peace and Love are great, but come on buddy, that's not what we are preaching. Save the sugar coating for the Willy Wonkians over at souldiving. This is Bitter Spiritualist, not The Pollyanna Press. Fists flew, noses bled, feelings hurt, and most importantly, I got what I wanted.
So with the corporate restructuring I have to introduce a new member of team Bitter Spiritualist this morning, Magic Man. In addition to being my bloodied cowering colleague here at BS he also goes to Wizard School with me. His thoughts were finding there way into my posts and quite frankly I found him stifling. Always giving me reasons why I should be a little less bitter and a little more loving. He was trying to take away my edge, hiding out and using me as his mouth piece. Hey Fuckhead this is my blog and my words not yours. Save the love talk for the dial-a-date scene amigo. I must confess, it's been a bit confusing around here. I've never had employees I had to work with. And they all have their own agenda. His is a great one, similar to mine coincidentally, but I was finding his voice a little too lovely dovey. So I figured if I gave him a little press I'd pacify the pacifist and could get on with my own writing.
Outing the Magic Man also gives me a chance to acknowledge a great friend of BS who named him and also gives you, my loyal masses, a great holiday gift idea. One day he started calling my colleague Magic Man and it stuck. This was even before he started going to Wizard School! A swarmy dapper Mediterranean-type fellow I have known for twenty plus years. His name, Ozio. Only a true Italian could get three vowels into a four letter name. His company, Sweatsedo, sells quality velour track suits, stylish and oh so comfortable. I'm wearing one of their jackets now, so if you want to dress like your idol, check out Ozio and his wares at www.sweatsedo.com. These are his last weeks here in Los Angeles before he leaves us for a new adventure in the mountains. He will be missed, and not just because of his brilliant cooking skills, mostly. Another BS staff member, Avid Outdoorsman, is very excited that he will get to visit him in the North Country. I personally will miss him heaps and also have a sense of dread. Avid Outdoorsman will indubitably drag my ass up there to the mountains with him. Oh wow trees! And mountains! And a lake! Luckily I can chose to see none of that from a barstool with a Guinness in front of me. Nature, it's overrated. Hey that could be a new slogan here at BS, but probably not, Avid can get a little vocal if we start picking on Mother Earth.
So the excuses were invalid and I woke up and wrote and it worked. Sure I can see that I didn't write about much - it wasn't meaningful, but then again meaning is all subjective - but I did kick that excuse to the curb and did it anyway. Magic Man is chirping up that we did it, that we met our commitment to ourselves and got an opportunity to do some work and share, but I am going to punch him in the chin once I stop typing. Ooey gooey this motherfucker. But begrudgingly, I must admit he is on to something, so I am chipping away at the excuses and doing what I set out to do. Fuck it's not like my other posts were Shakespeare. Fuck Shakespeare, that English prick.
I am in the process of clarify the staffing here at the home office, so if you are confused, not too worry, you're not as confused as I. It's off to a board meeting for me where I have to listen to the blathering, I mean input, of my co-workers. In the mean time check out Sweatsedo, tell him Magic Man sent you. It won't get you a discount, but I bet you it gets you a laugh.
Love, Light and Laughs,
BS
I'm finding that it's harder and harder to come up with excuses to not take action. Reasons are a different story, reasons are really really good excuses. I love that old expression excuses are like assholes, everyone’s got one. And it's true I do have an asshole, who I will introduce later in this post, and I could come up with excuses for all the things I haven't done in my life. Like why I've not posted in a bit -- for sake of word count to fill up the page a bit this morning I'll give it a whirl.
I worked all last week, early mornings, days filled with the glitz and glamour of Hollywood. Then I had Wizard School this weekend where I took another step toward getting my broom and my wand. After all that, I had to get up even earlier on Monday to go finish up last week's job. Yesterday was out of the question, I mean I couldn't write yesterday. It was my first day off and a quite some time and I had to do laundry and clean up my apartment and go for coffee and read a book and blah blah blah, blah (word count increasing) blah, blah, blah..........
Lame excuses. I am guessing, but I would bet that all those excuses, however feebly I tried to sell them were just a healthy dose of resistance. Again I am learning and this is all just practice, so today I am learning that lame excuses just aren't really sitting anymore. It feels good. Like I wrote before, if this a worthwhile post, an insightful funny post I wrote it, if not God did it.
In the past the excuses were much more infused with life, they were my life. My life was too hard to live. You wouldn't understand because my pain was so much greater than yours. My leaden cross was so much heavier that your cross. Back then when I actually believed the press I was feeding my brain, those weren't excuses, they were my reality. In hindsight they were excuses for not giving myself my life, I just didn't know any better. Or I was too deep in the misery to believe any other options. Thankfully those days are fewer and fewer, I just really got sick and tired of playing the old tape. Fuck excuses, lay the cards on the table and see what happens.
I woke up this morning wanting to write and attempted to keep myself from doing so. I came up with a few halfhearted excuses. The bed being warm and toasty was a good one. I had nothing to write about another good one, and by where this is going a valid one. But the reality is I have made commitments to myself (and to you) that I want to keep. And for better or worse one of those commitments was posting here twice a week. Sure I want to post things that I think are funny and maybe a little insightful, but that wasn't one of the requirements I set up for myself. Those are just excuses to not write and not post and I am learning here.
Another nickel excuse for not posting is that the home offices of BS is going through some restructuring. I noticed that there was some ooey gooey guy showing up at the meetings. Peace and Love are great, but come on buddy, that's not what we are preaching. Save the sugar coating for the Willy Wonkians over at souldiving. This is Bitter Spiritualist, not The Pollyanna Press. Fists flew, noses bled, feelings hurt, and most importantly, I got what I wanted.
So with the corporate restructuring I have to introduce a new member of team Bitter Spiritualist this morning, Magic Man. In addition to being my bloodied cowering colleague here at BS he also goes to Wizard School with me. His thoughts were finding there way into my posts and quite frankly I found him stifling. Always giving me reasons why I should be a little less bitter and a little more loving. He was trying to take away my edge, hiding out and using me as his mouth piece. Hey Fuckhead this is my blog and my words not yours. Save the love talk for the dial-a-date scene amigo. I must confess, it's been a bit confusing around here. I've never had employees I had to work with. And they all have their own agenda. His is a great one, similar to mine coincidentally, but I was finding his voice a little too lovely dovey. So I figured if I gave him a little press I'd pacify the pacifist and could get on with my own writing.
Outing the Magic Man also gives me a chance to acknowledge a great friend of BS who named him and also gives you, my loyal masses, a great holiday gift idea. One day he started calling my colleague Magic Man and it stuck. This was even before he started going to Wizard School! A swarmy dapper Mediterranean-type fellow I have known for twenty plus years. His name, Ozio. Only a true Italian could get three vowels into a four letter name. His company, Sweatsedo, sells quality velour track suits, stylish and oh so comfortable. I'm wearing one of their jackets now, so if you want to dress like your idol, check out Ozio and his wares at www.sweatsedo.com. These are his last weeks here in Los Angeles before he leaves us for a new adventure in the mountains. He will be missed, and not just because of his brilliant cooking skills, mostly. Another BS staff member, Avid Outdoorsman, is very excited that he will get to visit him in the North Country. I personally will miss him heaps and also have a sense of dread. Avid Outdoorsman will indubitably drag my ass up there to the mountains with him. Oh wow trees! And mountains! And a lake! Luckily I can chose to see none of that from a barstool with a Guinness in front of me. Nature, it's overrated. Hey that could be a new slogan here at BS, but probably not, Avid can get a little vocal if we start picking on Mother Earth.
So the excuses were invalid and I woke up and wrote and it worked. Sure I can see that I didn't write about much - it wasn't meaningful, but then again meaning is all subjective - but I did kick that excuse to the curb and did it anyway. Magic Man is chirping up that we did it, that we met our commitment to ourselves and got an opportunity to do some work and share, but I am going to punch him in the chin once I stop typing. Ooey gooey this motherfucker. But begrudgingly, I must admit he is on to something, so I am chipping away at the excuses and doing what I set out to do. Fuck it's not like my other posts were Shakespeare. Fuck Shakespeare, that English prick.
I am in the process of clarify the staffing here at the home office, so if you are confused, not too worry, you're not as confused as I. It's off to a board meeting for me where I have to listen to the blathering, I mean input, of my co-workers. In the mean time check out Sweatsedo, tell him Magic Man sent you. It won't get you a discount, but I bet you it gets you a laugh.
Love, Light and Laughs,
BS
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
More Bitter, Less Honey
Greetings from Hollywood -
I am sad to report the Bitter and Honey experiment has been put on temporary hold. Transformation Tuesday were too damn transformative apparently. With a little altitude comes a whole lot of clarity, and the BS board voted down the partnership. The idea remains something that I know will be fun and I look forward to future collaboration. Just not now. There's a brilliant story of life, lessons, and love, but that will be told another today. Today I am logging some miles on a comfy directors chair making television magic.
Check back later in the week, I have to at least pretend I am working. Okay I don't even have to pretend I am working, but I do have a hankering for a cookie. Mmmmmmmmm Craft Services. For those of you not familiar with the machinations of tv production, they feed you and provide you with snacks. Yes it is all glitz and glamour.
I invite you to check out the sweet honey goodness of our short lived partner at www.souldiving.org . It's the sweet to my salty.
Love, Light and Laughs
BS
I am sad to report the Bitter and Honey experiment has been put on temporary hold. Transformation Tuesday were too damn transformative apparently. With a little altitude comes a whole lot of clarity, and the BS board voted down the partnership. The idea remains something that I know will be fun and I look forward to future collaboration. Just not now. There's a brilliant story of life, lessons, and love, but that will be told another today. Today I am logging some miles on a comfy directors chair making television magic.
Check back later in the week, I have to at least pretend I am working. Okay I don't even have to pretend I am working, but I do have a hankering for a cookie. Mmmmmmmmm Craft Services. For those of you not familiar with the machinations of tv production, they feed you and provide you with snacks. Yes it is all glitz and glamour.
I invite you to check out the sweet honey goodness of our short lived partner at www.souldiving.org . It's the sweet to my salty.
Love, Light and Laughs
BS
Thursday, December 3, 2009
HAVING FUN! - A SURE FIRE RESISTANCE BEATER
"HAVE FUN WRITING."
Have the what doing the what now? I thought. "Thanks I will." I said.
The words echoed around in my skull. "Have fun writing." Words said in kindness by the thirtysomething talker at the coffee shop yesterday. You know the type, a nice guy concerned about his fellow man. Get back to your commune hippie - oh how I loathe nice guys. Sometimes.
I mean, who is this guy to tell me......Wow was I really just having fun writing? And he noticed. I sure didn't. I looked like someone having fun writing....hmmmmm....I was having fun writing. Holy shite I am a writer! Actually doing it and not talking about it. Thank you hippie. Tis weird to think that I may actually be doing what I am meant to do. I felt good?! I felt like I was in alignment. I didn't feel Bitter - uh oh, my cover may be blown; I'm having a good time doing what I said I want to do. Too much time in my head reliving some past or projecting some future. Sure I had a moment of self doubt, but just a moment. Then I moved back into the moment, I was aware, and I did a little celebration. I patted myself on the back. Not too shabby Bitter
The past week has been very revealing here in the office. I'd been living in an old pattern, aware of it, but living in it nonetheless. What do I write? Oh I have this project, heartfelt, meaningful, the one I SHOULD write. That's it. That's what I am going to do. I don't want to, but that is what I am going to do. Ahhh but I want to write this project as well. It's the one that I am made to write, the one I am destined to write. The one that is going to ripple through the world helping those in need. Those less fortunate than I.
Oh you arrogant man. No body cares what I do, so why not do what I love to do? God doesn't want me to write anything, no one does, I do. Sure he wants be to make choices that inspire me, bring me joy, but I know he's going to love me whether I do it or not. Shouldn't I write what I want to write? What makes me happy?
I'll field that question. You're damn right I ought write what I want to write. And nobody is going to stop me. You mean no body wants to stop me? Huh, then who does. Ahhh resistance. The ever running machine, the trickster that lives inside of me. At one time keeping me safe, where I needed to be. Always keeping me away from the life I was born to live. We all have him, I've written about him before. He's a pain in the balls. His name - resistance, brought to you by the ego.
Resistance. It comes in many shapes and sizes. He's been living in me, on the offensive for a long time, while I played a solid D. I am coming on strong with my offense, putting resistance on the defense. He is the enemy, and I shall kill my enemies. As Steven Pressfield says in his powerful book theWarofArt "The warrior and the artist live by the same code of necessity, which dictates that the battle must be fought anew every day." I am honing my short passing game, keeping my eyes open for the long ball down the middle. Football metaphors.....
Today I put the first words to the page of my new project. A project I am going to see to completion. And not just because it's a requirement for Wizard School. Because it's what I want to write, what I want to share. It's what I am choosing to write right now. Today I started to write some good old fashion yuck yuck comedy.
Comedy is something I loved to create in my life. I was a hack stand up for a time and boy did I hate comedy by the time I quit that world. I hated it so much I ran to Los Angeles - okay not the only reason I came to LA - fame, fortune, a beautiful dame being a few others. Sure I still allowed myself to love getting the laugh with people. My god does it give me joy. I well up and smile now just thinking about making friends and family laugh. Simple. And I took it away from myself. Resistance. Let some feedback cloud my joy and take away my comedic mojo. I didn't want to be hurt. My comedy was local, like livingroom local, I was hiding out. (Yes a common theme these days, while I am starting to open up again to the world and taking actions to stay that way. Things to make myself happy. (See resistance beating metaphor above.))
Today I live with my insecurities, the voices in my head and I do the work anyway. Today I become a professional. Sure I could come up with a laundry list of things I need to do, more important things, more pressing things. But I am choosing not to. I don't need to blame or judge, I just want to do what I love. I can be a bit manic. An oscillating fan from bravado to My God I Suck. In the past the My God I Suck moments were lifetimes. I'd given all my time to my deficiencies. Something uniquely my own? I don't think so. Just something most of us live with. Focusing on what we don't have, focusing on what we need to get before we give ourselves what we want. Boy was I guilty of that. Yet another shade of resistance.
Then I made a choice. Why not focus on what I want and see where that leads me? Hmmm interesting. I've not tried that in years. I guess that's why all these folks are around me who love me and support my choices. You mean I am being supported? Yup. Wizard School.
No Wizard School has not given me magical super powers. Yet. What they have given me is a new set of eyes to see the world around me. And what a world I have around me. I looked up from the trough of misery and found out I live an awesome life in spite of myself. What if I took more actions toward my dreams? I'd realize I am living them.
And we all can do what we love to do. I am convinced of it. I am living proof of it. I am not rich, but I ain't poor either. God I am blessed. We all are. It's seeing that blessing, owning that blessing and following the best guide we have - our hearts. Corny? Mostfuckingdefinitely. True? Absofuckinglutely.
Today I am going to write. If it's funny, I am a genius. If it's not, God is a terrible writer. Either way I am doing. I am living. And that's no joke (See I told you God wasn't funny.)
Love, Light and a Big Bitter Heaping of Laughs,
BS
Have the what doing the what now? I thought. "Thanks I will." I said.
The words echoed around in my skull. "Have fun writing." Words said in kindness by the thirtysomething talker at the coffee shop yesterday. You know the type, a nice guy concerned about his fellow man. Get back to your commune hippie - oh how I loathe nice guys. Sometimes.
I mean, who is this guy to tell me......Wow was I really just having fun writing? And he noticed. I sure didn't. I looked like someone having fun writing....hmmmmm....I was having fun writing. Holy shite I am a writer! Actually doing it and not talking about it. Thank you hippie. Tis weird to think that I may actually be doing what I am meant to do. I felt good?! I felt like I was in alignment. I didn't feel Bitter - uh oh, my cover may be blown; I'm having a good time doing what I said I want to do. Too much time in my head reliving some past or projecting some future. Sure I had a moment of self doubt, but just a moment. Then I moved back into the moment, I was aware, and I did a little celebration. I patted myself on the back. Not too shabby Bitter
The past week has been very revealing here in the office. I'd been living in an old pattern, aware of it, but living in it nonetheless. What do I write? Oh I have this project, heartfelt, meaningful, the one I SHOULD write. That's it. That's what I am going to do. I don't want to, but that is what I am going to do. Ahhh but I want to write this project as well. It's the one that I am made to write, the one I am destined to write. The one that is going to ripple through the world helping those in need. Those less fortunate than I.
Oh you arrogant man. No body cares what I do, so why not do what I love to do? God doesn't want me to write anything, no one does, I do. Sure he wants be to make choices that inspire me, bring me joy, but I know he's going to love me whether I do it or not. Shouldn't I write what I want to write? What makes me happy?
I'll field that question. You're damn right I ought write what I want to write. And nobody is going to stop me. You mean no body wants to stop me? Huh, then who does. Ahhh resistance. The ever running machine, the trickster that lives inside of me. At one time keeping me safe, where I needed to be. Always keeping me away from the life I was born to live. We all have him, I've written about him before. He's a pain in the balls. His name - resistance, brought to you by the ego.
Resistance. It comes in many shapes and sizes. He's been living in me, on the offensive for a long time, while I played a solid D. I am coming on strong with my offense, putting resistance on the defense. He is the enemy, and I shall kill my enemies. As Steven Pressfield says in his powerful book theWarofArt "The warrior and the artist live by the same code of necessity, which dictates that the battle must be fought anew every day." I am honing my short passing game, keeping my eyes open for the long ball down the middle. Football metaphors.....
Today I put the first words to the page of my new project. A project I am going to see to completion. And not just because it's a requirement for Wizard School. Because it's what I want to write, what I want to share. It's what I am choosing to write right now. Today I started to write some good old fashion yuck yuck comedy.
Comedy is something I loved to create in my life. I was a hack stand up for a time and boy did I hate comedy by the time I quit that world. I hated it so much I ran to Los Angeles - okay not the only reason I came to LA - fame, fortune, a beautiful dame being a few others. Sure I still allowed myself to love getting the laugh with people. My god does it give me joy. I well up and smile now just thinking about making friends and family laugh. Simple. And I took it away from myself. Resistance. Let some feedback cloud my joy and take away my comedic mojo. I didn't want to be hurt. My comedy was local, like livingroom local, I was hiding out. (Yes a common theme these days, while I am starting to open up again to the world and taking actions to stay that way. Things to make myself happy. (See resistance beating metaphor above.))
Today I live with my insecurities, the voices in my head and I do the work anyway. Today I become a professional. Sure I could come up with a laundry list of things I need to do, more important things, more pressing things. But I am choosing not to. I don't need to blame or judge, I just want to do what I love. I can be a bit manic. An oscillating fan from bravado to My God I Suck. In the past the My God I Suck moments were lifetimes. I'd given all my time to my deficiencies. Something uniquely my own? I don't think so. Just something most of us live with. Focusing on what we don't have, focusing on what we need to get before we give ourselves what we want. Boy was I guilty of that. Yet another shade of resistance.
Then I made a choice. Why not focus on what I want and see where that leads me? Hmmm interesting. I've not tried that in years. I guess that's why all these folks are around me who love me and support my choices. You mean I am being supported? Yup. Wizard School.
No Wizard School has not given me magical super powers. Yet. What they have given me is a new set of eyes to see the world around me. And what a world I have around me. I looked up from the trough of misery and found out I live an awesome life in spite of myself. What if I took more actions toward my dreams? I'd realize I am living them.
And we all can do what we love to do. I am convinced of it. I am living proof of it. I am not rich, but I ain't poor either. God I am blessed. We all are. It's seeing that blessing, owning that blessing and following the best guide we have - our hearts. Corny? Mostfuckingdefinitely. True? Absofuckinglutely.
Today I am going to write. If it's funny, I am a genius. If it's not, God is a terrible writer. Either way I am doing. I am living. And that's no joke (See I told you God wasn't funny.)
Love, Light and a Big Bitter Heaping of Laughs,
BS
Monday, November 30, 2009
Gratitude
It's been an odd week here at the home offices in Santa Monica. I've been making valiant attempts to focus on gratitude. It was Thanksgiving after all. The Universe in all her wisdom has been showing me such amazing beauty everywhere I look. And I've not been willing to accept that beauty, to acknowledge the beauty around me, the beauty in you, yes my friends, the beauty in me. I have been ungrateful.
As per my usual bitter self, I'd been hiding out, feeling sorry for myself. Feeling overwhelmed with the world around me and it has sucked Buddha balls. I felt like a fraud. No the voice, the inner critic, had been telling me I am a fraud. Someone like me becoming spiritual? Becoming successful? Letting my guard down? I should be loathed, not loved. My misery is a special house blend, much more potent than yours. And that is not true, it's a fable I made up, something I decided long ago and have worked around that belief for many years. A smile, a giving up my dreams, talking a great game without playing. You can't see me - I'm a phony!
Then I nearly got run over in the crosswalk and gratitude washed over me, wiped my slate clean. I was pissed off. Happiness and gratitude through a jolt of anger....ahhhh Bitter!
I was walking to the store with my furry guest and as all good Los Angelenos do I waited for the little man in the box to tell me it was okay to cross the street. Common sense and logic knocked out of me with multiple jay walking tickets. We were out on the street and a gentlemen decided to slip in front of us. The fog I strolled in was suddenly lifted and I screamed, flipping him off, challenging him to a physical discussion. He wisely chose to drive on. The woman waiting at the light gave me a thumbs up and a brief chastising of the angel who helped me find gratitude. Thank you.
Gratitude is a choice I can make in each moment.
I am grateful to him, he got me in touch with some lurking anger and a chance to outwardly express that anger. He gave me the opportunity to flex a finger I'd shockingly not used in some time. He gave me a beautiful gift, the gift of answering back with his digit. Oh what a great time I had beating my chest and using my not so kid friendly words. As he backed down and drove away I was filled to the brim with gratitude. Not what I would have expected. First for the feeling it gave me, the release, the knowing that those voices and that violence is inside of me. He showed me the wisdom I have to acknowledge what is inside of me and wanting to exorcise it. The exhalation of apologizing to the woman who witnessed the event, and her telling me to go for it. And that moment, his driving away was a moment of gratitude, for the pounding of my chest may have led to a donnybrook out on the sidewalk, something I try to avoid now in my young years. A reaction from some hurt and not where I want to live. And secondly I am grateful for the knowing that I don't need a wayward driver to chose to live, I can do it for myself. So thank you my friend for nearly running me down and for wilting in the face of my challenge. You gave me a beautiful grand opportunity to practice what I tend to preach.
I find my lessons in the most unusual of places. Pissed off at the man in the VW and I find gratitude. I walked my gratitude walk. For one moment I was doing. And in walking that walk, focusing on gratitude, I actually became grateful. Before my brother died I was such an explorer of life, of art, of spirituality. Then it stopped. I became angry and ungrateful. Ungrateful for the cards I had been dealt, angry at God for the cards he dealt my clan, the cards he dealt my mom. I stopped living. I am not blaming him, I'm not blaming the terrorist. I'm not blaming anyone, not even me. It's been a great run. I've learned heaps about myself, mostly what I don't love and bucket loads about the world. Now I am ready to experience the world again, ready to feel again. It's time and I am supported. I am filled with gratitude in this moment. It's easy to do, and it's easy not to do. This moment I am choosing to be grateful.
I am so filled with gratitude for my life, this beautiful magical life and those sharing this ride with me. I am learning how to be alive, how to be happy and today is a great step in that direction. The years of hiding, being afraid, being shy or being huge to keep others at bay have made me, well, interesting. Yes crazy and angry may have been old descriptions of who I was, but as they say in Wizard School that's "In the Past." I am pushing my comfort level out, expanding, and finding out what makes me happy. And what scares the bejesus out of me and doing it anyway. I may scream and I may yell and I may take a nap, but I am pushing myself. Finding what makes me happy, finding where my passion lies.
I am going to love being happy and stop reveling in my misery. That old badge of honor fits me no more. I am a fountain of gratitude.
Sure I am going to have days of venom, days of FUCK, or maybe I won't. I just know that this is the year of finding out what makes me happy. So I invite you to come along for the ride. Or not. I am doing this for me and only me and not feeling like it's selfish. Those who love me will want me to be happy, those who don't, can get in the car with the fellow who nearly ran me down today. And I thank you all. For I am filled with gratitude.
Gratitude. It's a simple thing, a blessed action. An action that I am living with in this moment. An attitude that I hope to wake each morning with. And if I don't, if I wake two-stepping the self loathing angry-at-the-world dance that this bitter fellow has choreographed with such glee, then I eventually will work my process and find my gratitude. In truly focusing on gratitude, I am starting to embody gratitude. I am walking my walk and focusing on what I write about. The preacher is becoming the doer.
I am off to watch The Patriots beat The Saints. Unholy for sure, but I am grateful that my team is better than your team.
Love, Light and Laughs
BS
It's been an odd week here at the home offices in Santa Monica. I've been making valiant attempts to focus on gratitude. It was Thanksgiving after all. The Universe in all her wisdom has been showing me such amazing beauty everywhere I look. And I've not been willing to accept that beauty, to acknowledge the beauty around me, the beauty in you, yes my friends, the beauty in me. I have been ungrateful.
As per my usual bitter self, I'd been hiding out, feeling sorry for myself. Feeling overwhelmed with the world around me and it has sucked Buddha balls. I felt like a fraud. No the voice, the inner critic, had been telling me I am a fraud. Someone like me becoming spiritual? Becoming successful? Letting my guard down? I should be loathed, not loved. My misery is a special house blend, much more potent than yours. And that is not true, it's a fable I made up, something I decided long ago and have worked around that belief for many years. A smile, a giving up my dreams, talking a great game without playing. You can't see me - I'm a phony!
Then I nearly got run over in the crosswalk and gratitude washed over me, wiped my slate clean. I was pissed off. Happiness and gratitude through a jolt of anger....ahhhh Bitter!
I was walking to the store with my furry guest and as all good Los Angelenos do I waited for the little man in the box to tell me it was okay to cross the street. Common sense and logic knocked out of me with multiple jay walking tickets. We were out on the street and a gentlemen decided to slip in front of us. The fog I strolled in was suddenly lifted and I screamed, flipping him off, challenging him to a physical discussion. He wisely chose to drive on. The woman waiting at the light gave me a thumbs up and a brief chastising of the angel who helped me find gratitude. Thank you.
Gratitude is a choice I can make in each moment.
I am grateful to him, he got me in touch with some lurking anger and a chance to outwardly express that anger. He gave me the opportunity to flex a finger I'd shockingly not used in some time. He gave me a beautiful gift, the gift of answering back with his digit. Oh what a great time I had beating my chest and using my not so kid friendly words. As he backed down and drove away I was filled to the brim with gratitude. Not what I would have expected. First for the feeling it gave me, the release, the knowing that those voices and that violence is inside of me. He showed me the wisdom I have to acknowledge what is inside of me and wanting to exorcise it. The exhalation of apologizing to the woman who witnessed the event, and her telling me to go for it. And that moment, his driving away was a moment of gratitude, for the pounding of my chest may have led to a donnybrook out on the sidewalk, something I try to avoid now in my young years. A reaction from some hurt and not where I want to live. And secondly I am grateful for the knowing that I don't need a wayward driver to chose to live, I can do it for myself. So thank you my friend for nearly running me down and for wilting in the face of my challenge. You gave me a beautiful grand opportunity to practice what I tend to preach.
I find my lessons in the most unusual of places. Pissed off at the man in the VW and I find gratitude. I walked my gratitude walk. For one moment I was doing. And in walking that walk, focusing on gratitude, I actually became grateful. Before my brother died I was such an explorer of life, of art, of spirituality. Then it stopped. I became angry and ungrateful. Ungrateful for the cards I had been dealt, angry at God for the cards he dealt my clan, the cards he dealt my mom. I stopped living. I am not blaming him, I'm not blaming the terrorist. I'm not blaming anyone, not even me. It's been a great run. I've learned heaps about myself, mostly what I don't love and bucket loads about the world. Now I am ready to experience the world again, ready to feel again. It's time and I am supported. I am filled with gratitude in this moment. It's easy to do, and it's easy not to do. This moment I am choosing to be grateful.
I am so filled with gratitude for my life, this beautiful magical life and those sharing this ride with me. I am learning how to be alive, how to be happy and today is a great step in that direction. The years of hiding, being afraid, being shy or being huge to keep others at bay have made me, well, interesting. Yes crazy and angry may have been old descriptions of who I was, but as they say in Wizard School that's "In the Past." I am pushing my comfort level out, expanding, and finding out what makes me happy. And what scares the bejesus out of me and doing it anyway. I may scream and I may yell and I may take a nap, but I am pushing myself. Finding what makes me happy, finding where my passion lies.
I am going to love being happy and stop reveling in my misery. That old badge of honor fits me no more. I am a fountain of gratitude.
Sure I am going to have days of venom, days of FUCK, or maybe I won't. I just know that this is the year of finding out what makes me happy. So I invite you to come along for the ride. Or not. I am doing this for me and only me and not feeling like it's selfish. Those who love me will want me to be happy, those who don't, can get in the car with the fellow who nearly ran me down today. And I thank you all. For I am filled with gratitude.
Gratitude. It's a simple thing, a blessed action. An action that I am living with in this moment. An attitude that I hope to wake each morning with. And if I don't, if I wake two-stepping the self loathing angry-at-the-world dance that this bitter fellow has choreographed with such glee, then I eventually will work my process and find my gratitude. In truly focusing on gratitude, I am starting to embody gratitude. I am walking my walk and focusing on what I write about. The preacher is becoming the doer.
I am off to watch The Patriots beat The Saints. Unholy for sure, but I am grateful that my team is better than your team.
Love, Light and Laughs
BS
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Gratitude
Happy Transformation Tuesday everybody!!
Greetings from the sick bed. Okay the sick couch technically. Quite a week here at the home office. Year Two of Wizard School is kicking my ass.
My thoughts are not really cohesive today. Slipping in and out of a nice sleepy state, interspersed with some chills. I'm either delirious or having visions of God. For that I am filled with gratitude. On this week of Thanksgiving, I am thankful that I am sick. I get to do little and take care of myself and be okay with it. So that is what I am doing today, instead of writing about gratitude, I am living gratitude. It feels good! Yes I will write of gratitude later, when Jesus and Buddha stop serving my tea. It just doesn't seem polite to type with them here.
Back to my visions...............BS.
Greetings from the sick bed. Okay the sick couch technically. Quite a week here at the home office. Year Two of Wizard School is kicking my ass.
My thoughts are not really cohesive today. Slipping in and out of a nice sleepy state, interspersed with some chills. I'm either delirious or having visions of God. For that I am filled with gratitude. On this week of Thanksgiving, I am thankful that I am sick. I get to do little and take care of myself and be okay with it. So that is what I am doing today, instead of writing about gratitude, I am living gratitude. It feels good! Yes I will write of gratitude later, when Jesus and Buddha stop serving my tea. It just doesn't seem polite to type with them here.
Back to my visions...............BS.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Synchronicity
Well today I was in my head most of the day. Then I had it, my beautiful story for today. I threw away all that I had worked on and was ready to write about the beautiful synchronicities in my life.
Well I showed up at the coffee shop this afternoon and couldn't log on. Boy did that send me into a tailspin. Why? I'm not sure. Maybe it's leaving the dog at home with a huge "Adopt Rescued Pets Here!" sign across the street. Perhaps this isn't the best place for me to be at peace and write. Or is it the Universe giving me an opportunity practice what I preach. Yup, that's what it is. I really don't give a fuck about the gal beside me and her plumber boyfriend. Either they buy the shit she's selling or they don't. I don't give a fuck. But I do care about you all, and my apologies for venting to you, but hey this is where I am right now. A bit pissed off that I'm here and I got upset about the the world around me. It all was triggered by not being able to get online here. Silly I know, but a great sign of where I am in my learning. I am being gentle with myself. Hey I am raw and I am learning, and there I said it, I'm not a fucking enlightened being. So where the fuck was I.....
Oh yeah, SYNCHRONICITY. It seems funny now what I was going to write about, so I will write about it to have a good laugh at myself. Well I'd tried a few times. SHUT THE FUCK UP PEOPLE!!!!!! Oh yeah I am at the coffee shop and not everyone is here for my amusement and I forgot my headphones at the house. Great. I have to listen to the teenagers talk High School gossip. Other days this would amuse me, but I am triggered right now and I am writing so Here we go.....
So I've written a funny little ditty about synchronicities, it was nice and neat and I just didn't like it. Ahhh heres a lesson, be gentle with myself, the voices are getting quieter, for the screaming in my head has lessened. And my dog is fine at home, he'd be crazy right now and I want to finish this post and get out of here. Oh my God, these girls are annoying, yes I've been triggered. Maybe have a good cry, maybe look through my yearbook and remember how grand high school was for me. I'm not sure, but synchronicities....
I was on the highway today coming from some work and contemplated how much I didn't want to write about stupid synchronicities. I was resistant I would say. I had some really really funny stuff about the Police and N'Sync. Genius really, but it just didn't speak to me. And if not speaking to me, how can I communicate to you? Well then it hit me. Boom! I was out of sync. Yes there is my N'Sync reference for the day and it tied in to The Police song and it was great. Well I had a sign from God. It said Boston. Where the BS is from and then on the radio came a story about the Russian Subway System, and a jester from Boston who was over there entertaining folks. And I realized I was taking myself way too seriously. A bit like now. Have a laugh she tells me, gently, her sweet beguiling voice talking to me. I am singing to myself now as I write, enjoying the stares from the High School girls and feeling a bit better. Well I got it, she is such a bitch I can't believe it. Oh yes, I am eavesdropping now on the high school gossip and the saleswoman and her stories of her plumber boyfriend. Synchronicities!
Sure these could be random acts to drive me crazy. Or they could be the beautiful voice of the Universe telling me to not take myself so fucking seriously. That's what I am going with. When is a coincidence not a coincidence? When I decide it is. It's my choice. I choose to live in a world where God talks directly to me, and her voice is often soft, sweet and annoying. She speaks in riddles, she speaks in synchronicities. Like this post for instance. I was planning to write more to you and then I got a call from Honeybee about writing on Tuesdays. Okay sure, I get it God I will write. And moments later my Sister sent me a note wondering when we were going to hear more from the BS. Ahh yes, what a coincidence......
Synchronicities. Like this one in front of me now. Three girls badmouthing everyone they know. A voice that I know well, granted my sounds a bit more macho, but a voice of negative self talk that lies inside of me telling me how much I suck. Well I am being gentle with myself this month, and being a cheerleader instead of a terrorist. A coincidence that this issue is in my face and I've three girls blabbing in my ear. Sure if I want it to be, but I am choosing to take it as God telling me to be gentle with myself. Stop yelling at yourself for not doing things and start doing things. An awareness that came to me this weekend, that yelling at myself, berating myself, just wasn't working for me.
So there it is. My journey today, my synchronistic journey that got me to this coffee shop, got me to write to you. What a treat. Sure I am still a bit in upset, but I am finished with writing and I feel good. I am going to leave here and coo softly in my ear that I am doing a great job. That I am exactly where I need to be. Pat myself on the back. Give myself (as my Dad used to say) and Atta Boy. And get the fuck out of this chaos, drop to my knees and Thank God that I am not in High School anymore.
PS: As I became clear as to why these gals were here, here for me - "randomly" - they left. Sure I am still in a bit of upset, but I am on my way out of here. To learn from this moment and move forward. Thank you God for your sweet voice, the sweet reminder that I need to be gentle with myself. That the voices in my head, the old voices, served their purpose at one point, and I need them no longer. Thank God!
Well I showed up at the coffee shop this afternoon and couldn't log on. Boy did that send me into a tailspin. Why? I'm not sure. Maybe it's leaving the dog at home with a huge "Adopt Rescued Pets Here!" sign across the street. Perhaps this isn't the best place for me to be at peace and write. Or is it the Universe giving me an opportunity practice what I preach. Yup, that's what it is. I really don't give a fuck about the gal beside me and her plumber boyfriend. Either they buy the shit she's selling or they don't. I don't give a fuck. But I do care about you all, and my apologies for venting to you, but hey this is where I am right now. A bit pissed off that I'm here and I got upset about the the world around me. It all was triggered by not being able to get online here. Silly I know, but a great sign of where I am in my learning. I am being gentle with myself. Hey I am raw and I am learning, and there I said it, I'm not a fucking enlightened being. So where the fuck was I.....
Oh yeah, SYNCHRONICITY. It seems funny now what I was going to write about, so I will write about it to have a good laugh at myself. Well I'd tried a few times. SHUT THE FUCK UP PEOPLE!!!!!! Oh yeah I am at the coffee shop and not everyone is here for my amusement and I forgot my headphones at the house. Great. I have to listen to the teenagers talk High School gossip. Other days this would amuse me, but I am triggered right now and I am writing so Here we go.....
So I've written a funny little ditty about synchronicities, it was nice and neat and I just didn't like it. Ahhh heres a lesson, be gentle with myself, the voices are getting quieter, for the screaming in my head has lessened. And my dog is fine at home, he'd be crazy right now and I want to finish this post and get out of here. Oh my God, these girls are annoying, yes I've been triggered. Maybe have a good cry, maybe look through my yearbook and remember how grand high school was for me. I'm not sure, but synchronicities....
I was on the highway today coming from some work and contemplated how much I didn't want to write about stupid synchronicities. I was resistant I would say. I had some really really funny stuff about the Police and N'Sync. Genius really, but it just didn't speak to me. And if not speaking to me, how can I communicate to you? Well then it hit me. Boom! I was out of sync. Yes there is my N'Sync reference for the day and it tied in to The Police song and it was great. Well I had a sign from God. It said Boston. Where the BS is from and then on the radio came a story about the Russian Subway System, and a jester from Boston who was over there entertaining folks. And I realized I was taking myself way too seriously. A bit like now. Have a laugh she tells me, gently, her sweet beguiling voice talking to me. I am singing to myself now as I write, enjoying the stares from the High School girls and feeling a bit better. Well I got it, she is such a bitch I can't believe it. Oh yes, I am eavesdropping now on the high school gossip and the saleswoman and her stories of her plumber boyfriend. Synchronicities!
Sure these could be random acts to drive me crazy. Or they could be the beautiful voice of the Universe telling me to not take myself so fucking seriously. That's what I am going with. When is a coincidence not a coincidence? When I decide it is. It's my choice. I choose to live in a world where God talks directly to me, and her voice is often soft, sweet and annoying. She speaks in riddles, she speaks in synchronicities. Like this post for instance. I was planning to write more to you and then I got a call from Honeybee about writing on Tuesdays. Okay sure, I get it God I will write. And moments later my Sister sent me a note wondering when we were going to hear more from the BS. Ahh yes, what a coincidence......
Synchronicities. Like this one in front of me now. Three girls badmouthing everyone they know. A voice that I know well, granted my sounds a bit more macho, but a voice of negative self talk that lies inside of me telling me how much I suck. Well I am being gentle with myself this month, and being a cheerleader instead of a terrorist. A coincidence that this issue is in my face and I've three girls blabbing in my ear. Sure if I want it to be, but I am choosing to take it as God telling me to be gentle with myself. Stop yelling at yourself for not doing things and start doing things. An awareness that came to me this weekend, that yelling at myself, berating myself, just wasn't working for me.
So there it is. My journey today, my synchronistic journey that got me to this coffee shop, got me to write to you. What a treat. Sure I am still a bit in upset, but I am finished with writing and I feel good. I am going to leave here and coo softly in my ear that I am doing a great job. That I am exactly where I need to be. Pat myself on the back. Give myself (as my Dad used to say) and Atta Boy. And get the fuck out of this chaos, drop to my knees and Thank God that I am not in High School anymore.
PS: As I became clear as to why these gals were here, here for me - "randomly" - they left. Sure I am still in a bit of upset, but I am on my way out of here. To learn from this moment and move forward. Thank you God for your sweet voice, the sweet reminder that I need to be gentle with myself. That the voices in my head, the old voices, served their purpose at one point, and I need them no longer. Thank God!
Thursday, November 12, 2009
My Word Is My Law
"Hey I'll see you later."
"Yeah, sure, maybe."
"I'll be there in an hour."
"I can definitely help you with that."
"No I can't go, I'm home writing."
"I am going to post on my blog twice a week, no doubt about it."
"I am getting up at 7:00 and writing."
The fucking list is endless. Opportunities I've had to let myself down. Really show myself and the Universe how untrustworthy I was. I am a bullshitter, it's a gift I have, I know it and am so very grateful for it. I love to make people laugh with my humor and my imagination. That is different than making a commitment to myself or to somebody else and breaking it. It chips away at my soul.
When I say something, give it energy and put it out to the world, it is my law. My word is my law! It is all the contract I will ever need to know that something will be done. It starts with this little post today. I was sitting here at the coffee shop doing some of my homework and I realized I owed myself, and you, a second post this week. "Well I have a lot of homework I've yet to do. And I'm tired. And blah, blah, fucking, blah." Enough excuses! It's time to start keeping my word to myself and to those around me.
In the past I've had an easier time keeping my word to others. I'd like to think of myself as a dependable reliable friend. Sure I'd lie when it made a situation easier. "Yeah, sure, I wouldn't miss your cat's birthday party in Pasadena for the world!" Well no more! I say it, to me or to someone else and I will do it. Or I won't commit to it.
Being wish washy is my ego wanting something. Wanting to be seen as perfect in someones eyes. Wanting to be a better man in my own eyes. Wanting to be an enlightened soul, walking the earth with my head above the fray. Not living, lying. Well the lies stop today. Somedays I do like to sleep late! There I said it. Fuck it. With love of course. Being gentle with myself is alien to me. In the past breaking my word has been a great way to beat myself up. I'm done. I am who I am, and with courage and discipline I am becoming the man I want to be. Who that is? I'm not sure. It starts with small steps, doing the best I can in each moment.
So I will be posting twice a week! No I am posting twice a week. Once I hit publish I've kept my word and keeping my word is my new law. It feels good.
"Yeah, sure, maybe."
"I'll be there in an hour."
"I can definitely help you with that."
"No I can't go, I'm home writing."
"I am going to post on my blog twice a week, no doubt about it."
"I am getting up at 7:00 and writing."
The fucking list is endless. Opportunities I've had to let myself down. Really show myself and the Universe how untrustworthy I was. I am a bullshitter, it's a gift I have, I know it and am so very grateful for it. I love to make people laugh with my humor and my imagination. That is different than making a commitment to myself or to somebody else and breaking it. It chips away at my soul.
When I say something, give it energy and put it out to the world, it is my law. My word is my law! It is all the contract I will ever need to know that something will be done. It starts with this little post today. I was sitting here at the coffee shop doing some of my homework and I realized I owed myself, and you, a second post this week. "Well I have a lot of homework I've yet to do. And I'm tired. And blah, blah, fucking, blah." Enough excuses! It's time to start keeping my word to myself and to those around me.
In the past I've had an easier time keeping my word to others. I'd like to think of myself as a dependable reliable friend. Sure I'd lie when it made a situation easier. "Yeah, sure, I wouldn't miss your cat's birthday party in Pasadena for the world!" Well no more! I say it, to me or to someone else and I will do it. Or I won't commit to it.
Being wish washy is my ego wanting something. Wanting to be seen as perfect in someones eyes. Wanting to be a better man in my own eyes. Wanting to be an enlightened soul, walking the earth with my head above the fray. Not living, lying. Well the lies stop today. Somedays I do like to sleep late! There I said it. Fuck it. With love of course. Being gentle with myself is alien to me. In the past breaking my word has been a great way to beat myself up. I'm done. I am who I am, and with courage and discipline I am becoming the man I want to be. Who that is? I'm not sure. It starts with small steps, doing the best I can in each moment.
So I will be posting twice a week! No I am posting twice a week. Once I hit publish I've kept my word and keeping my word is my new law. It feels good.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Committed!!
Greetings from the asylum. No not that kind of committed, today starts the next chapter in Bitter Spiritualist. Today I begin my journey of becoming a professional writer. I am a warrior poet spinning yarns and sharing a laugh. You are part of my Wizard School project! I am committing to writing a minimum of two posts each week. I have other writing projects I will be working on, but I will no longer neglect you, my loyal fans.
And there's a new wrinkle here at the home office. We are starting a new partnership. Each and every Tuesday, like this one, my post topic will not only be explored with my genius and wit, but it will get an ooey gooey Pollyanna treatment from Honeybee on her site, souldiving.org. Tuesday's with the B's (Okay we need a better title). Two perspectives on the same subject, two journeys with distinctly different styles. A duet with different lyrics sung from different rooms. It could sound beautiful, it could be nails on the chalkboard. I don't know what it's going to be, where it is going to take us, but I know I am supposed to do it.
Honeybee and I have had quite a history together, and we will have some kind of future together. And it starts here. Some of you know my story of our history and may be surprised by this partnership. Fuck I am, I assumed the next time we worked together would involve a shovel and some duct tape, and that she wouldn't be much help at the task. I am trusting Spirit on this one and seeing what happens, see where this project and where I go. It's one part of the adventure and I am excited about it. I do know that I love her. And I love you. And I love to write.
We will be working independent of each other and seeing what comes up. I must admit that today i did read her first post before I wrote this one, and it's a great lesson on not doing that ever again. I can feel myself editing content in my head, fitting my content to match hers, and that's no fun.
It's a partnership, not a competition, but please be warned. If you want laughs, lessons, heartfelt sharing of a brilliant journey, know that I will be with you on this new path. If you like rainbows, lollipops and rose colored glasses, you'll love Honeybee and her brand of saccharin spirituality. I mean come on, her name is Honeybee - that's her name, not one I created. She's showed up in a few of my posts as The Lawyer, but I will call her Honeybee here as I call her something else in the world. And it doesn't rhymes with itch.
I am filled with gratitude to you my audience for your support. While on hiatus I received so many words of support and encouragement. Words I had trouble really taking in, I was feeling like a fraud. I still do a bit, but now at least I'm a working fraud.
I'll be back later in the week and then Transformation Tuesdays get rolling next week with our first topic, Synchronicity. Synchronicity is what got me to agree to work with those hippies over at souldiving.org and I will write about it for next week.
Love, Light and Laughs
BS
And there's a new wrinkle here at the home office. We are starting a new partnership. Each and every Tuesday, like this one, my post topic will not only be explored with my genius and wit, but it will get an ooey gooey Pollyanna treatment from Honeybee on her site, souldiving.org. Tuesday's with the B's (Okay we need a better title). Two perspectives on the same subject, two journeys with distinctly different styles. A duet with different lyrics sung from different rooms. It could sound beautiful, it could be nails on the chalkboard. I don't know what it's going to be, where it is going to take us, but I know I am supposed to do it.
Honeybee and I have had quite a history together, and we will have some kind of future together. And it starts here. Some of you know my story of our history and may be surprised by this partnership. Fuck I am, I assumed the next time we worked together would involve a shovel and some duct tape, and that she wouldn't be much help at the task. I am trusting Spirit on this one and seeing what happens, see where this project and where I go. It's one part of the adventure and I am excited about it. I do know that I love her. And I love you. And I love to write.
We will be working independent of each other and seeing what comes up. I must admit that today i did read her first post before I wrote this one, and it's a great lesson on not doing that ever again. I can feel myself editing content in my head, fitting my content to match hers, and that's no fun.
It's a partnership, not a competition, but please be warned. If you want laughs, lessons, heartfelt sharing of a brilliant journey, know that I will be with you on this new path. If you like rainbows, lollipops and rose colored glasses, you'll love Honeybee and her brand of saccharin spirituality. I mean come on, her name is Honeybee - that's her name, not one I created. She's showed up in a few of my posts as The Lawyer, but I will call her Honeybee here as I call her something else in the world. And it doesn't rhymes with itch.
I am filled with gratitude to you my audience for your support. While on hiatus I received so many words of support and encouragement. Words I had trouble really taking in, I was feeling like a fraud. I still do a bit, but now at least I'm a working fraud.
I'll be back later in the week and then Transformation Tuesdays get rolling next week with our first topic, Synchronicity. Synchronicity is what got me to agree to work with those hippies over at souldiving.org and I will write about it for next week.
Love, Light and Laughs
BS
Friday, October 23, 2009
Checking In
Hello Loyal Fans
I have been on hiatus for a little bit. Nothing to worry about, no need to call professionals, I am swine flu free. I'm getting in to the swing of things. I will be sharing with you all in the very near future. So please don't forget about us, for I have not forgot about you.
Love Light and Laughs
BS
I have been on hiatus for a little bit. Nothing to worry about, no need to call professionals, I am swine flu free. I'm getting in to the swing of things. I will be sharing with you all in the very near future. So please don't forget about us, for I have not forgot about you.
Love Light and Laughs
BS
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
And We Are Back........
To my faithful readers. My apologies for the break in the action. We here at the BS were off saving whales and feeding children. We were runners up to Obama for the Nobel this year. We'll get him next year for sure.
And not to worry. The good people at Google have judge us unworthy of monetization, so we will only be sharing from the heart and having fun, no more whoring out for a click or two.
So sit back, relax and enjoy.
And not to worry. The good people at Google have judge us unworthy of monetization, so we will only be sharing from the heart and having fun, no more whoring out for a click or two.
So sit back, relax and enjoy.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
So Where Is Full Dome?
It took me ten years of California living for my first visit to Yosemite. One of the awe inspiring show pieces in the Mother Earth Collection had always been on my jukebox wish list, recently getting heavy demand. I had several different scenarios on how I was going to make it there, I can assure you none of them involved doing my best Batman impersonation scaling a granite mountain side.
So how did I find myself teetering over the edge of Half Dome? The internet of course.
My guide, coach and spiritual Sherpa, Tenzig, and his company (http://www.insightadventures.com/) had popped up a few times from my love, the Lawyer – named from my previous tender post, Dear Fuckface; irony and my sweet disposition helping Lawyer beat out Fuckface by a nose - she introduced us at Wizard School graduation. A few weeks ago Tenzig sent an email about an upcoming spiritual journey, a night hike to the top of Half Dome. A little resistance, a phone call to make sure the Lawyer was in trial that weekend, and a few brief communiques later, I was in, set to pick up my carpool buddy Saturday morning.
I'd met my fellow hiker Captain Kid previously, a Wizard Schooler and fellow Son of Massachusetts I knew through the Lawyer. Driving to pick up my fellow Masshole I was cut off by prick with Mass plates, so I knew we'd be okay. Soon we were zipping up the state in my oddly unnamed wagon. Our first stop was Selma, the self proclaimed and highly publicized raisin capital of the world. Our stop courtesy of the brave men and women of the California Highway Patrol and my speed. Eighty seven miles an hour to be exact, I know because I looked right after noticing the CHP car I was flying past. No question I was getting pulled over, no way I was getting a ticket. Lights on, off to the shoulder I went, his radio squawking to life telling me to pull off the ramp. Officer John, not Ponch, was friendly and a bit bewildered at my audacious pass. I handed him my license, told him the truth (that I didn't see him), and he told me his (that he didn't have me on radar, but he couldn't let me zip by unhindered). I turned on the BS and we had a laugh or two at my expense. Then he asked me where I was headed. His eyes lit up, he'd never hiked it, but had helicopter rescued many an overmatched hiker from the area. Great. Then out of the blue John mentions people having "awakenings" at the top of Half Dome. Phew, no ticket and no helicopter rescue for me. Another couple of laughs, a goodbye and we were back on the road, ticketless and on a mission from God, and Chips.
Yosemite here we come. It does not disappoint, it truly is God's Country. I assume my readers know I write of God in whatever terminology I use. I try to be inclusive using many of her names, Universe, Spirit, Mother, Father, Self..... If you don't believe in God, I hear you, I respect your opinion, we can disagree without being disagreeable. Then go to Yosemite and tell me about the randomness of life, for the hand of God is everywhere. The view from the highway leading up to Fresno? A different story perhaps.
Shortly after arriving I met up with Tenzig and two of his friends at the lodge in Curry Village. His friends were not hiking with us, they were whack jobs, I mean, rock climbers. I was a little disappointed we were parting ways as one of said wackos was a six foot Themyscirian Goddess. Oh well the Avid Outdoorsman was here for an adventure inward this visit, no distractions from my intention. Ah yes, intention, it's been coming up heaps for me. Setting them and holding myself accountable. My intentions for this trip was quite simple - Connect more intimately with mySelf and God. Oh and make it to the top, with or without tears, just make it.
Leading up to nights escapades Captain Kid and I took in the wonder surrounding us, both moving inward, preparing ourselves for our own experience. We met up with Tenzig later, the conversation left me knowing I was in good hands and in for some great fun. Geared up and ready to go I found myself walking down a dark road in the valley of Yosemite. On to an adventure I was excited and freaked out about. Hiking to the top of Half Dome for a sunrise meditation, hopefully shedding some old stories while gathering strength, insight and hope along the way. The Avid Outdoorsman was back and in action!
We arrived at the trail head early. A fellow Wizard Schooler showed up shortly there after hailing us with a wizard call. She'd been there all day, not seen anyone familiar, and was about to head home when she found us. We were all meant to be there, a few tests of commitment along the way great opportunities to learn and grow. I laid in the dirt, connected to Mother, marveling at all the stars. Are they closer up there? I've asked that question at other times in my life. The first time deep in the woods of Canada one summer as a kid visiting relatives. They sparkled, danced and sang their rhythmic song, a call from home.
A hail from Captain Kid brought me back to Earth, our group was here and ready to go. Team introductions were made, a great group of wildly different folks, some Wizard Schoolers, some not, not an Everest summitter in the lot. Tenzig was enthusiastic and grounded and a little nervous, which worked great for me. I don't work well with false bravado. His exuberance catchy, I was rip roaring ready to go. He gave us his spiel, setting some groundwork for the adventure; Safety First!; Drink lots of water; What happens at Half Dome stays at Half Dome. (As always here at BS I speak only of my journey, the names closely tied to my story are changed to keep them out of the watchful eye of the World Management Team.); Set intentions for the hike - check; Be honest when communicating; Meet at least two teammates and find out what their intention is for the journey - comfort zone pushed? - check; Have a hike check in buddy, someone who looks after you and you do the same for him, in my instance Captain Kid; And an idea to write some old beliefs I want to release on the rocks I had in my hydration pack - the backpack formerly known as a Camelback until I purchased it's generic cousin that morning.
I was carrying rocks up a hill of granite? Why yes, yes I was. Tenzig's website information told me to bring some rocks to carry up with us, metaphors for old beliefs, old stories I wanted to release during my hike. I picked them up in the parking lot of a Raleys - yeah I'd never heard of it either - on the way up after resisting the task while home. So I wrote things I wanted to release on the rocks, things that didn't seem good enough after I passed along the Sharpie. Other things came to me, better things dammit! I had a laugh at my mind, focused on what was coming up, put that energy on the stones in my pack and felt their collective weight on my shoulders. What I wrote on those stones was for me and/or for later posts.
Up we went. My primary fear was would I enjoy myself while doing it? I knew I could make it, but would I have fun? The internet had not been my friend, a clear case of too much information makes the BS quake. Most writers rightfully warn adventures seekers of the realities of the climb. It's long, it's rigorous, you should be prepared. I read their advice as I'm an out of shape struggling non-smoker who's going to get his jock handed to him by a bunch of professional hikers just back from their summit of Everest. A friend who'd been on the hike several times allayed some of those fear by being realistic, sadistic and encouraging. Half Dome is the real deal. As Tenzig said, people actually train for this hike. You may make it up and back in flip flops and a bottle of water, but I don't recommend it. Don't let the name fool you, if it was Full Dome, I wouldn't have made it - Hey, I'll be here all week folks, try the salmon.
Our team rocked! Tenzig's rule worked brilliantly as I started to get to know my fellow summiters. It was about not only the top, but my journey and my fellow travellers. We had some laughs, a few tears, some teeth chattering and a chorus of grunts, groans and yelps. I learned heaps about myself, the great outdoors (Cotton Kills!) and my teammates. I treated the trek up as a meditation, an opportunity to push myself physically and connect deeper to myself and to Spirit.
Six hours later I was pulling myself up cables anchored in to the granite face of Half Dome. Darkness my saving grace as I couldn't see just how far up I was going. Captain Kid in front of me, the rest of the team below me somewhere. Soon I was standing on the top of the world. My teeth chattering, I sat and gave myself a pat on the back for a job well done. As dawn approached a train of my teammates came chugging up the granite. I stood up on my achy legs and cheered them on, my favorite part of the journey, watching their faces as they finally reached their goal.
We relaxed and soon the blessed sun peaked over the mountains, her warmth filled me with a deeper sense of gratitude. Tenzig led us on a meditation, one so powerful that I took a nap. Then out came my rocks, my old beliefs, my old stories. I thanked them and sent them on their way, scattering them, sending them back to God. A gratitude circle completed our time up on top, sharing and laughing, preparing ourselves for the hike down. Our trip together concluded at the bottom of the cables. We had successfully made it to the top and back. I began the descent on my own, taking in the beauty around me that was hidden in the dark on the ascent. My intention very much in full swing, my heart was open to the magic around.
Four hours and two banged up feet later I was back at my car. A job well done! I know in my heart that I can rise to any occasion, put one foot in front of the other and do my best. Sure it may seem hard, it may hurt a bit, yet with grace, ease and surrender I can climb mountains. Not too bad for city folk.
Love and Light to you and your adventures,
BS
Monday, September 21, 2009
The Final Monday Abundance Check In!!
Hello Faithful Followers
Today we begin a new chapter in the ever evolving Bitter Spiritualist history.
I've not been writing to you as much as I wanted to. The reason? Who cares really, I know that I want to and I am now. Today I will write of my latest adventures and post it very soon. Mostly I am going to nurse my aches, my beautiful aches, from said adventure.
I am filled with abundance, it is everywhere. I am the wealthiest man I know (and the funniest, sexiest, and humblest). So our revenue totals for the past week -
Last Seven Days - $0
All Time - $0
The great amazing wonderful people at Google gave me a wake up call last week, and I thank them for it. My ego started to get caught up in making money from our little experiment. I had put a pretty bow on it, making it about sharing the abundance of the Universe, about transparent business practices, blah, blah, blah.... Ultimately I started this site to write, to write and love sharing it with people. And along the way I made it about clicking on an advertisement. Click and Validate!!! Click here and it is proof that I can get paid for what I love to do!! Click here to stroke my massive ego!!!!!!
I don't need that, we don't need that. Apparently Google wasn't too keen on something we were doing, they took away the monetization aspect of my blog for now. Irregular clicking was the culprit. They really didn't give me much else to go on, yet I am guessing a few of my fervent followers may have clicked on things with some loving regularity and Google thought it was a scam.
I've written to Google as part of their appeals process, claiming ignorance as my defense. The only thing I was sure about was that I was never allowed to click on my own ads, which I never did. I was unaware that my asking you to click, even if you weren't interested in Physic Tarot Flavored Magic Abundance Pills, was also a violation of their policies. Makes sense, their advertisers are paying to advertise, not to get clicked on because I've asked you to do so.
I would love to be reinstated with Google, yet it matters not for my purposes. I am here to write and share, not to pester you. So write I shall.
I want to thank you all for you amazing unwavering support. I am filled with gratitude. I love you guys! I am rich beyond my wildest beliefs and need no ad count to tell me that.
Love, Light and Laughs
BS
Today we begin a new chapter in the ever evolving Bitter Spiritualist history.
I've not been writing to you as much as I wanted to. The reason? Who cares really, I know that I want to and I am now. Today I will write of my latest adventures and post it very soon. Mostly I am going to nurse my aches, my beautiful aches, from said adventure.
I am filled with abundance, it is everywhere. I am the wealthiest man I know (and the funniest, sexiest, and humblest). So our revenue totals for the past week -
Last Seven Days - $0
All Time - $0
The great amazing wonderful people at Google gave me a wake up call last week, and I thank them for it. My ego started to get caught up in making money from our little experiment. I had put a pretty bow on it, making it about sharing the abundance of the Universe, about transparent business practices, blah, blah, blah.... Ultimately I started this site to write, to write and love sharing it with people. And along the way I made it about clicking on an advertisement. Click and Validate!!! Click here and it is proof that I can get paid for what I love to do!! Click here to stroke my massive ego!!!!!!
I don't need that, we don't need that. Apparently Google wasn't too keen on something we were doing, they took away the monetization aspect of my blog for now. Irregular clicking was the culprit. They really didn't give me much else to go on, yet I am guessing a few of my fervent followers may have clicked on things with some loving regularity and Google thought it was a scam.
I've written to Google as part of their appeals process, claiming ignorance as my defense. The only thing I was sure about was that I was never allowed to click on my own ads, which I never did. I was unaware that my asking you to click, even if you weren't interested in Physic Tarot Flavored Magic Abundance Pills, was also a violation of their policies. Makes sense, their advertisers are paying to advertise, not to get clicked on because I've asked you to do so.
I would love to be reinstated with Google, yet it matters not for my purposes. I am here to write and share, not to pester you. So write I shall.
I want to thank you all for you amazing unwavering support. I am filled with gratitude. I love you guys! I am rich beyond my wildest beliefs and need no ad count to tell me that.
Love, Light and Laughs
BS
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Tuesday
Hello
When life gives you lemons, huck them at cars. And when life gives you abundance and infinite wealth, share it with your readers.
As promised our Monday update, brought to you by Tuesday:
Last 7 Days -- 153 Page Impressions -- 61 Clicks -- $18.06
All Time -- 1803 Page Impressions -- 264 Clicks -- $101.63
That's right people we have broken through, Google now owes Bitter Spiritualist one hundred clams. Thank you!!!!
Hey this week I may even write something else besides our earning report. No promises, but I'd stay tuned if I were you.
Love, Light and "Road House",
BS
When life gives you lemons, huck them at cars. And when life gives you abundance and infinite wealth, share it with your readers.
As promised our Monday update, brought to you by Tuesday:
Last 7 Days -- 153 Page Impressions -- 61 Clicks -- $18.06
All Time -- 1803 Page Impressions -- 264 Clicks -- $101.63
That's right people we have broken through, Google now owes Bitter Spiritualist one hundred clams. Thank you!!!!
Hey this week I may even write something else besides our earning report. No promises, but I'd stay tuned if I were you.
Love, Light and "Road House",
BS
Friday, September 11, 2009
8 Years
Seems like a lifetime ago (or was it just yesterday?) that my brother called telling me to turn on the television. My life changed in ways I am just learning to understand.
Today I say a prayer for all those who lost loved ones. I say hello to my brother, his journey done, he is home.
Today I say a prayer for all those who lost loved ones. I say hello to my brother, his journey done, he is home.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Abundance and Transparency Monday - The Tuesday Edition
Hello Loyal Masses
Do hope you all had a fantastic Labor Day weekend. The irony of a brilliantly underemployed fellow not working all weekend celebrating working was not lost on me.
Wrote an award winning piece on Acceptance to share with you, true genius in every word, the example a heartbreaking and uplifting story with every bite. Then the Universe texted me and I dumped the post for a minute or two. As I've detailed, I am trying valiantly to walk my walk, not just talk me talk, and if I smell fraud or holier than thou too much, I'm going to reel the post in. Any way, that's just me making excuses for being a bit lazy, I accept that and move on.
Thank you for your continued support, BS is flourishing. Wealth and Abundance are showered on me daily in lieu of daily bathtub showering. The numbers........
Last Seven Days -- 97 Page Impressions -- 15 Clicks -- $4.64
All Time -- 1647 Page Impressions --203 Clicks -- $83.57
We are approaching our first payment from Google!!! They pay on the $100s, so I'm not telling anyone what to do, yet a click here and a click there and this cowboy can have steak for dinner.
Love, Light, and the other white meat,
BS
Do hope you all had a fantastic Labor Day weekend. The irony of a brilliantly underemployed fellow not working all weekend celebrating working was not lost on me.
Wrote an award winning piece on Acceptance to share with you, true genius in every word, the example a heartbreaking and uplifting story with every bite. Then the Universe texted me and I dumped the post for a minute or two. As I've detailed, I am trying valiantly to walk my walk, not just talk me talk, and if I smell fraud or holier than thou too much, I'm going to reel the post in. Any way, that's just me making excuses for being a bit lazy, I accept that and move on.
Thank you for your continued support, BS is flourishing. Wealth and Abundance are showered on me daily in lieu of daily bathtub showering. The numbers........
Last Seven Days -- 97 Page Impressions -- 15 Clicks -- $4.64
All Time -- 1647 Page Impressions --203 Clicks -- $83.57
We are approaching our first payment from Google!!! They pay on the $100s, so I'm not telling anyone what to do, yet a click here and a click there and this cowboy can have steak for dinner.
Love, Light, and the other white meat,
BS
Monday, August 31, 2009
Abundance, Wealth, Transparency - It must be Monday!
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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.
Slainte!
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,
BS
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,
BS
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 www.souldiving.org 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,
BS
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 www.souldiving.org 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,
BS
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,
BS
Friday, August 7, 2009
BS UPDATES!!!!!
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 http://twitter.com/BitterSpirit
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!
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 http://twitter.com/BitterSpirit
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.
Chris
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.
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.
Chris
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.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.............
I asked the Universe for Trust in her infinite magical abundance.
And she gave me a rent increase and a blown head gasket.
I asked the Universe for Courage to let go of attachment.
And she gave the "it's not you it's me" talk from my tango mate.
I asked the Universe for Joy to overflow from my heart.
And she transitioned my brother over to the other side.
I asked the Universe for Strength to own my light.
And she gave me the chance to dim it with judgment.
I asked the Universe for Grace as I dance with Spirit.
And she brought a road filled with potential potholes.
I celebrate getting what I asked for, grateful for the inner peace.
Filled with Love, knowing each perfect moment unfolds as it is meant to be.
And she gave me a rent increase and a blown head gasket.
I asked the Universe for Courage to let go of attachment.
And she gave the "it's not you it's me" talk from my tango mate.
I asked the Universe for Joy to overflow from my heart.
And she transitioned my brother over to the other side.
I asked the Universe for Strength to own my light.
And she gave me the chance to dim it with judgment.
I asked the Universe for Grace as I dance with Spirit.
And she brought a road filled with potential potholes.
I celebrate getting what I asked for, grateful for the inner peace.
Filled with Love, knowing each perfect moment unfolds as it is meant to be.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Bitter Spiritualist has gone Bitter Capitalist
Hello Loyal Masses -
As you may have noticed there's been a few changes to my meanderings. As I've already posted we have taken the The out of our title. It makes for easier listening and more comic stylings.
The second change is in our ever expanding acquisition of wealth without actually getting a real job, we have monetized our website. I signed up months ago to make the change and hemmed and hawed as to whether we should or shouldn't go corporate. Well the coffers are light and the staff was bitching about another week gone by and no paycheck, so we pulled the trigger.
It is my understanding that the more times people click on ads on our site the more opportunity we have to get a few duckets for my words. And we are professionals here, and a professional is someone who gets paid for what they do. We have been called up to The Show and are in the big leagues now.
Am I being a shill? Selling out? Quite possibly, that is what the aforementioned hemming and hawing was about. Yet I am putting in a little time to this blog, making attempts to entertain and inform. Fuck, why not get paid for it? People do far less and get paid far more.
In my ever expanding empire I want you to be a partner in this experiment. No not an equal shareholder, hell I do most of the work so I am going to reap the cash benefits. But I will be letting you know how much we are making. I like the idea of transparency in business.
To date - by which I mean today - we have received (after some advanced algorithms and such) exactly zero dollars. So if you are feeling so inclined, click on to one of our sponsors and it will be registered with the good people at Google.
So click once, click twice, click and win. As always, no pressure, but remember it's for the children. Remember the children.
With pockets full of change, and a song in my heart, I remain, full of it.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
My Dad
My father was a fantastic Dad. A man I strive to be like each day. A fighter til the end. I was blessed to spend the last months of his life helping care for him as cancer took his body, but never his humor or his Spirit. My Mom asked me to write something to commemorate the July 10th anniversary of his transition to the other side. A limerick came to me so I thought I'd share it with you, the Bitter Spiritualists' loyal masses.
A man of many titles, husband, father, friend.
Fisherman, footballer, vacationer, gardener to the end.
Hard to believe, gone three years to the day.
Beautiful memories hold the heart ache at bay.
Your humor there to light up the room.
Your laugh, your wisdom chasing away the gloom.
Your generosity legendary, always there in a rush.
Your colorful language could make a sailor blush.
Today we remember not what is gone.
Rather we celebrate you, and how you live on.
Each that knew you, a better person for it.
Our hearts soar knowing the eternal garden you sit.
July 10, a day like any, you bring us a smile.
A tear may be shed, but not for a long while.
You'd want us to laugh, to share in a joke.
Husband, Father, Friend, you were a brilliant bloke.
I miss you Dad, not a day goes by I don't think of you. I love you.
A man of many titles, husband, father, friend.
Fisherman, footballer, vacationer, gardener to the end.
Hard to believe, gone three years to the day.
Beautiful memories hold the heart ache at bay.
Your humor there to light up the room.
Your laugh, your wisdom chasing away the gloom.
Your generosity legendary, always there in a rush.
Your colorful language could make a sailor blush.
Today we remember not what is gone.
Rather we celebrate you, and how you live on.
Each that knew you, a better person for it.
Our hearts soar knowing the eternal garden you sit.
July 10, a day like any, you bring us a smile.
A tear may be shed, but not for a long while.
You'd want us to laugh, to share in a joke.
Husband, Father, Friend, you were a brilliant bloke.
I miss you Dad, not a day goes by I don't think of you. I love you.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Goodbye Capital T, you've been, well, capital.
Dear Capital T,
This is Goodbye. Don't cry, we are still going to be great friends.
Big T you've been with The Bitter Spiritualist since the beginning. You and me, The Bitter Spiritualist, sharing a laugh, a thought or two, my rabid insecurities; boy we had some fun together. You were right there when I came up with this new idea and moniker and there when I decided to share my words with the world. A fucking thrill a minute joy ride, and now the ride is coming to an end.
I, The Bitter Spiritualist, am feeling a bit sad and would be remiss if I didn't highlight a few great Capital T's in my life, so you and I know everything will be okay. Two T's to make the pain a bit more bearable.
First and foremost, Mr. T, who put the Capital T in T. I met him while watching ABC's World's Greatest Bouncers, breaking through doors and ringing bells, apparently bouncing requirements. Then as Clubber Lang in Rocky. Can't remember if I knew his real name Capital T, but then in seventh grade "The A-Team" (two of you present in the title) premiered and he became Mr. T, and to a lesser degree B.A. Barachus. I'd not heard from him in quite some time until 2002 when some newly minted friends read excerpts from his autobiography. Mr. T was right, no ghost writer needed, Mr. T was back on my map. It might have something to do with the three great friends who reintroduced me to Mr. T, yet he did jump out his bedroom window clad in his skivvies firing pistol shots at two guys who may, or may not, have messed with his Daddy sitting on the stoop. It's a must read, an even better listen in your best Mr. T voice, as it was presented to me at The T Club Mexico in Santa Monica. A fantastic two Capital T pub. A place to laugh, cry, hoot, holler, hear a madman read aloud from "Mr. T: The Man With The Gold", and watch Boston sports. Now, as you know, it has morphed to The T Ranch, another great two Capital T pub, with regrettably readings less frequent.
At The T Club Mexico said friends introduced me to a fellow who I am now happy to call friend. Possibly crazier and more colorful than Mr. T, but smaller, more Italian and, as far as I know, without an autobiography. I have witnessed his genius in action, a small sampling until the autobiography is written and/or published - Came up with the slogan "It's a velour suit, get on Bitch." on the same day he showed us all how to laugh and be repelled with his patented Kung Fu grip; Full disclosure - The Bitter Spiritualist pinched the name The Avid Outdoorsman from one of his lies told to a lady. As The Bitter Spiritualist doesn't name names, I will leave this T's official Capital T nickname untyped to protect his identity.Clearly a modern day Prophet.
The Bitter Spiritualist came along years later. As he and I got to know each other, I realized he wasn't so formal, that The Bitter Spiritualist wanted to be known as the Bitter Spiritualist, or Bitter Spiritualist, or BS. He doesn't need you big "T" to open any doors for him. We appreciate all you've done, being a part of our start and our original title, but I am officially dropping you big T. As you read, there are cool people and establishments caring the Capital T torch.
Not to worry "T" I will use you in many other places; my highly paid creative writing projects; love letter to Mr. T; notes on neighbors cars like, "Your title is now The World's Biggest Parking Prick." And in sentences posted on the Bitter Spiritualist like "The Bitter Spiritualist in now the Bitter Spiritualist. The Bitter Spiritualist realizes the majority of you don't give a fuck and know that the BS is full of BS, but not about the BS name change."
So you'll be used extensively, just not formally on this site or any of the BS writings. And yes BS is so much easier and funnier than The BS.
So Capital T, I thank you. I needed you for a little while, but it's easier this way. I leave you in the capable hands of a Illinois bred gun toting preacher known to have rocked a small Italians world on film, and a Massachusetts reared, Balboa-esque, original Avid Outdoorsman.
Sincerely, I begin being,
Bitter Spiritualist
PS: Forgive the typos, I wanted to get this posted to you from 37,000 feet. Yes my first Airpost to you Capital T.
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