Do What You Love! If not for you, do it for me.

This weekend I was the recipient of beautiful gifts from some unbelievable friends. This weekend I gave myself some very helpful insights into my Self, my process and what it means to be of service in this world. We are, for better or worse, in it together, this magical murky yet very tasty soup called life. My life became a little richer, a little creamier, this weekend thanks to friends sharing their hearts, sharing what they love to do, with the world, and more importantly, with me. This my friends is what I believe is vital that we all do, in sharing our hearts fully, we are not only honoring ourself, we are giving those around us permission to do the same, permission to live a life filled with love, filled with joy, filled with Spirit. And it can fucking rock your world.

Wizard School has given me many amazing presents, one of the biggest is my project team, Team Bad Ass. My TBA teammates share with me all the time, in meetings, phone calls and in beautiful notes of support. We are together to assist one another in being successful with our Wizard School Year Two Project, a project of manifesting a heartfelt dream into reality. All three of them brought pieces of their heartfelt projects out of the test kitchen and into action, and I was blessed to witness all three of them shine so brightly. And that made my heart soar. That I believe is why it is so important that we all follow our hearts, our crazy beautiful seemingly nonsensical hearts. For if you are true to your heart, you give others directions to their own hearts. I for one tried valiantly to cover mine up at points this weekend, but I sit here now, the rain just starting to play her song outside my window and do what my heart loves to do. Thank you TBA!

My weekend of heart filled fun started on a very tasty note. Friday night brought me to TBA member The Optimists' home for a dinner party. She's worn many hats over the past year that I've got to know her - a super mom, a brilliant woman, funny, successful, a talented writer, a generous and loving ear, all of these things I am feel blessed to have in my life, but her light shined this weekend in the kitchen. Sure there are many facets to her I could write of, but this weekend, as I've experienced in the past, her light shined to mega-wattage sharing her culinary gifts with me and some friends. To be fed like a king, surrounded by magical classmates, I felt so loved, so nurtured. Are there two better gifts someone can give, Love and Nurturing? I think not. You can see that love of cooking as she glides through her kitchen, the praise she received from all the guests the simple manifestation of her joyfully sharing from the hearth (hey an oven joke!).

Sunday morning I found myself behind the wheel driving out to the desert, such a peaceful ride, gratitude cleared my path, making the trip a meditation on my amazing life. I was driving to see two TBA mates shine their lights doing what they love to do. First off was The Bedazzler, a singer, who's voice I've only known as a gentle guide in our team meetings and a force in our class room, sharing of herself with us freely and openly, I'd never heard her sing. Today I was blown away as she sung The National Anthem. She was so dope, I mean rad, both terms I've learned from her, both very positive. I can't wait to hear her sing some good songs. Hey I love this country, but I can think of half a dozen songs I'd chose before that one. But she knocked it out of the park, singing in a shack, on a wind swept hillside at the start of race day. Because Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!, is race day. And The Bedazzler started the day with her angelic voice and her inspirational heart, the crowd may not have been able to put their finger on it, but I saw it and heard it. She shared her gifts, she shared her heart, and they were touched, they were ready to race. They were also ready to have her back every month to share and sing, she is the new track songstress.

A race Crazy Hair, the final TBA member, does really well. In full disclosure, the track announcer gave me his nickname, and it is a positive projection as I sit here typing with a six inch afro. Crazy Hair races motorcycles and watching him slip down the straight away at 115 miles an hour, kicking his knee out and leaning the bike onto it's side to turn, you know he is connected to Spirit. Or he's a lunatic, and knowing him, his generous powerful heart, I know he's not crazy, well not suicidal crazy anyway. He seems to become one with the bike and the track. I knew he was gifted, but I had no idea how fluid, how, dare I write, beautiful it was to watch him shine. He's good. I know nothing of racing, but I do know finishing three hundred yards in front of the next guy is good. I asked someone at the track is Crazy Hair really as good as he seems to be. His simple reply "Yes" said it all. Later as we walked through the pits I noticed I was in the presence of a heart centered racing rock star, his heart wide open, people gravitated toward him for a word or two, all left with a smile and a wee skip in their step. It almost, almost, made me cool by proxy.

I love my team. I can't believe how lucky I am to get to spend time with these three amazing beacons of light. We are so similar and so very different. We are all in each others lives for brilliant reasons, some clear, some will reveal themselves as time goes on. I love them dearly, and I was so honored to be invited in to their worlds this weekend and watch them shine.

Saturday night I experienced something truly profound, I went to a Kirtan lead by a Wizard School classmate, The Yuppie Yogi. He's not a TBA member, but I won't hold that against them. We all can't be members of Team Bad Ass, it would be a logistical nightmare.

For those of you not living in the fantasy world I call Santa Monica, you may be asking - What the fuck is Kirtan? I've asked myself that question a few times, and I'd been to one years ago. It'd been calling my name for a long time. I resisted for various reasons, reasons I won't go into, but will chalk up to ego. Kirtan simply put is chanting. To paraphrase Yuppie Yogi's answer, kirtan is a practice that gets you out of your head and into your heart, chants of devotion, celebrating and honoring God. Well God in her many funny sounding Indian incarnations - Shiva, Ghovinda, Hare, Krishna, Jai Ma - Nope not a Jesus anywhere. I could do some research on it, I may, but as you know, lack of knowledge has never stopped me from writing about something. It's Indian chanting, accompanied by music. And what musicians they were. I was so affected by their melodies, the planets seemed to come into alignment, I came into alignment. I had a blast, part mediation, part yoga, all God. Led by the Yuppie Yogi, who's voice and musical talents swept me away, brought me into my heart and out of my head. I took a two hour journey, going places magical and unexpected. I was hooked.

So do what you love to do. Do what makes your heart sing. Do it for yourself most importantly. But do it for those around you. Be brave, take the risk and be an inspiration. This weekend taught me that the greatest gift anyone can give to another is be true to your heart. This weekend I got to see God in action. Truly that is the clearest way I can describe watching people do what they love to do. Being around people as they let their light shine brightly, not to get the ego stroked, not to be the best or the worst. Doing what they love for that very reason, because they love it.

I struggle with this notion myself, I am getting better at it, but it's still a work in progress. So this afternoon as I post this story, I am honoring my heart. Words make my heart sing. My hope is that maybe this story will inspire another to listen and trust their heart, share it, but I've no attachment to it. In simply following my own advice, in following my heart, I feel lighter, I feel a bit more whole. Wow - I feel happy. So before I fuck this feeling up by second guessing, by some old pattern, I am going to hit publish and move on to some more writing.

I'll be back again this week for sure!

Love, Light and Laughs
BS

Acceptance Through Rejection - A Story of Love and Courage - Now With Less Victim! (But still heaps of nauseating self importance)

Greetings from the Asylum -

Life is funny. God is funnier. They both can be annoying, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Today I write this story for (hopefully!?) the last time so I can move on to new stories. I've been stuck and this post, originally penned in September, has been wanting it's moment in the sun. It's been rewritten, like myself, since then, but the story remains the same, a story of my heart, a story of love. Six months after the original draft it's a great barometer about how far I've traveled and how much my heart remains the same.

It's a story about a girl. About a boy loving a girl. About a boy loving a girl who's really not that into him. About a boy trusting his heart and trusting the beauty and the magic of life. It's a story of Acceptance Through Rejection. (And people wonder why I am Bitter?) I will tell this story as best I can through a Wizard School handout on Acceptance so that I can use this experience as an opportunity to anchor in the learning, share and celebrate.

This handout details the stages of Acceptance of an event.

Step One in Acceptance is the what, the thing that happened, the story - that's the boy loving a girl bit. Wednesday night I found myself in the lobby of Wizard School for a night of magic and wonder, otherwise known as a Wizard School sales pitch showcase. In the exact same place she stood last September, was the woman I love, the woman who in August I'd asked to marry me (her answer is clear I believe). The original drafts of this story went on about how special this love is, about the magic we share. I've edited those out, not because they aren't true, but six months of clarity inducing wizarding has given me a greater bullshit (ego) detector.

My September spotting was a trigger, I shut off, my heart sank, tears welled, I began to judge. I'm happy to report Wednesdays spotting was with an open heart and the cracks of a smile on my face. We embraced, said our hellos, we moved on (her as always seemingly easier than I, ahhh the ego). This is the point in September where I find out the guy she's schtooping is one of the graduate success story speakers (Great! Thanks God, you fucker.), February brought me none of those fantastic tidbits of information. She sat beside me (well the shut off angry version of me) in September, she sat in front of me on Wednesday.

Which brings us to Stage Two of Acceptance, Neutral Observation. I am happy to report that this came so easy to me the other night, I never had to get there, for I was residing there, curious as to why God had brought this event back around for another gander. In September it was through blood, sweat, tears and clearly an intervention from God that neutrality, the ability to observe and not wallow, came to me. Back then I felt awful, retreating inward, shutting myself down to keep myself small, wrong, unworthy...you get the idea. Wednesday night I felt connected to Spirit and dare I write happy, happy with me and happy to see her.

Both evenings, this Observation was a reminder to me of what my heart wants. Of why I love this woman. The connection was there for me, a beautiful light of connectivity, of true magic. My perfect mirror, both of us basking in the Light, as we simultaneously pulled out our notebooks (she now writing in my brand I and my ego observed, earlier it was some frilly chick notebook), jotting down thoughts and ideas. Happened both nights. September I observed her private smiles and girlish I'm boning that guy giggles to the man she was dating (they date no longer); Wednesday I observed her rubbing her two friends, doing a little energy work on them both. One of them (the one I don't know) giving a little energy work back in the form of the thigh rub/pinch move time and again, not that I, the enlightened egoless being, would notice such things. For that would make me human. And truth be told, it doesn't really matter, but it is funny.

Very easily I moved into Stage Three of Acceptance, responding from my Authentic Self, from my truth, from my heart. I Accepted that I Love this woman. That she is the one I want to share my life with, the person I want to kiss in the morning, share my day with and hear about her day, the person I want to create with, and her warm breath the last thing I feel before I fall asleep. Waves of compassion and peace flowed over me. It was beautiful, waves of Love, waves of knowing, waves of, yes, Acceptance flowed through me. She gently rested her head on my shoulder in September, February it was her reaching out to hold hands, that spark that I know to be true, flowed through me.

In September my Acceptance stopped there, I wasn't ready to move on. The whole post was another tap dance for her to see me, now I realize it was me not seeing me, I do now. I Accept more and more of me. This week brings a new level of acceptance, acceptance that takes much more courage. Accepting that she and I together may not be part of God's beautiful dance. I've said it, written it and wished it, but now I accept it. Sure it hurts. Part of me doesn't even believe it to be true, but I accept that. I am accepting me and this situation, just as it is, not as I want it to be. Accepting and Loving me.

Which leads to the final stage, Stage Four for those of you keeping track at home, of Acceptance. Actions and Choices. I am clear that I will not settle for anything but what my heart really wants. I am so clear on that, in all of life’s uncertainties, it’s nice to be clear on that. So I will walk away from her, let her live and Love, and I will do the same. No restrictions, no judgments, simply choices. And I will continue to Love her and use that Love to take more actions, make more choices. Self honoring, self loving choices for me and me alone. Knowing that these choices are choices to Accept myself more fully, Accept and Love who I am. Clearly God thinks I can not do it with her by my side.

After my September experience, I wrote this story, but found I couldn't post it and found myself going back to her, using her even when she wasn't physically there. I would set some weak boundary, and it soon would be broken. I would re-accept her Facebook friend request (Gasp!) and start another of our beautiful conversations. I'd start right back in, believing that if only I did this I could change her heart. I was living a fantasy. It was heart aching, it was sad, it was a wee pathetic. It aches my heart, but not as much as not being true to my heart. I don't want to be her buddy, and that's what it seems she wants. Since my brilliant August proposal the one where she said thanks but no thanks, I've attempted to gain clarity on what she wants out of us, but realize it's not really about what she wants, it's about what I want. And what she was willing to give was not what I want. Maybe someday I will be ready to be pals who check in from time to time. Maybe someday she will be ready to commit to she and I being an Us. Now with my new level of Acceptance, with a new level of courage, I can and will move on.

And that is what courage means, being true to your heart. It came to me in a meditation of sorts immediately prior to seeing her this week. Then a not so subtle reminder was hammered home in a video taped message from an author as part of the presentation. That video helped me two years ago decide to go to Wizard School. Last class weekend the woman from the video came up to me to sing my praise and offer me a wee bit of authorly advice. I couldn't believe she was there in class, couldn't believe she singled me out and couldn't believe she was speaking to me again, via video tape, this week. She was talking of courage and at it's root it means from the heart (from the French word for heart, Coeur). I told you God is funny.

This courage may not be the stuff of action movies, but it is a big step for me. Sharing my heart on a deeper level with myself and with you. Realizing that courage is not hiding my heart, not being "tough", but rather being sweet (see Bitter to Sweet) and open and loving. Sure my ego did resist that, just ask the two college kids who cut me off in the Ralphs parking lot that I threatened to slap, after I walked away from my new definition of courage to get some Ben & Jerry's - Hey it's better thank a cigarette and some dope!

The courage to say I do have an ego. The courage to trust my heart. The courage to say if you don't like it, I hear you. Hello or Goodbye. And that's what I've done. Said goodbye. I wrote this love letter before and didn't have the courage to post it. Now I do, the courage to say hello to my heart, the courage to say goodbye to my love, the courage to accept the beauty and the sorrow of life. And Love them both.

So I love a woman. Big deal, lots of people have loved and lost. I know this, I accept this. In that meditation, the one about courage, what I had discovered was a fear of being seen as a coward. A misunderstanding I created that to know and show my heart was weak. A base fear, a fear that I believed on some level to be true, that I was weak and that I was a coward. Not easy things to look at, not easy things to share. So I am treating this post as an example that I am not a coward. A sucker in love maybe, but not a coward. It that gives me more strength to dig deeper, to reveal and heal. That however sappy I can be, I am brave. Brilliantly deranged, but brave.

I do want to thank my friends, you know who you are. The one's I bitched to in my victim state about how wronged I was. It wasn't true, it was perfect. How much I love a girl who just wasn't that in to me. It was exactly what I needed. She loved me, she loves me, it wasn't meant to be, there's no need to judge or resent, not to protect me anyway. I am moving on, done playing the victim poor me role, moving on with a song in my heart. You were good sports, great friends, and for that I am filled with gratitude. You may never have understood my love, you may have even tried to call me crazy, but I know you always loved me. That is something I cherish, something I hold sacred.

And I will take a moment to thank her (funny the whole post and no nickname) in the silence (and apparently on the internet). She got me to Wizard School, and now God has pushed me from the nest so I may fly. I Love her today more than ever, and I accept that, and move forward. Knowing. I don't fully understand why I love her so, I don't fully understand why she has always resisted my love, but I am done trying to understand, I am accepting and moving on. I am surrendering to my life and my beautiful process, and diving deeper into the river's current, seeing where it takes me next. So to you, Lady, I write the five words that sum it all up - Thank You. I Love You.

My love letters continue, now they are to God and to you lucky pricks. I release this story so I may reconnect to The Great Story In The Sky. Thank you for reading. Thank you for Loving.


Love, Light and Laughs
BS

PS: Next post I will write about the mediation technique that helped me get this story posted. I call is Write and Burn. It's got tears and fire, perfect for boys and girls!

Jolly Tuesday To You

Greetings-

Been a busy week here at the home office. Two pieces of news to report before the rain comes, so I'll make it quick.

First I had a brilliant learning opportunity on Thursday. Yes my streak of not getting high came to an abrupt end. I had a weak moment on Wednesday and texted my connection. He said he'd be around later. Well I did some great things, reached out to a friend and didn't get high on Wednesday. I even wrote to you all about being strong, and about not getting high and about how I wasn't going to con you, or myself. It was beautiful, heartfelt and I truly meant every word of it. The white knuckle part was over and I was on the other side. I went to bed, happy with myself.

Then Thursday afternoon rolled around and my connection contacted me again, a series of miscommunications. Him not understanding I didn't want anything, and a text glitch. I literally got six text from him telling me he was around. It was a sign I said and I went out and scored a little hooch. And I smoked it and initially I liked it, then I hated it. I hated that it clouded over my heart and mind. But I didn't beat myself up, and that is a huge step. And I am not hiding out from you all. Sure I did while I was high, but as I told you, I am not here to paint a picture of how cool I am, or how strong I am, but rather a portrait of a formerly Bitter angry man on the road to Sweet happy days. And fuck yeah I am going to take a step back every now and then, and a step forward while taking a step back. I am learning and practicing, never promised myself anything else. I can't believe how good I feel today, I Work My Process and am out here at my coffee shop sharing with you all.

And I am smoke free once again. See I justified cigarettes with the drugs. In for a penny, in for a pound. In the past this choice would last for months, years. It was one day, one choice. I'd be kicking back smoking everything I could get my hands on. No more. If I go against my intentions for a day, so be it, but that doesn't give me permission to give up on them, or myself. I am in this for the long haul. Fuck yeah I'm worth it, and this journey is worth it. I'm chalking it down as a great learning experience. I've learned what doesn't work; I've learned what does work; I learned that just because I made a choice I didn't love, doesn't mean I have to hate myself; I learned what I must focus on and what I must not focus on; I've learned come a fucking long way; I've learned I don't have to go it alone;. Heaps and heaps of brilliant things. Sure I'd rather have learned them and not used drugs, but I did. So be it, I'm done judging myself, I'm moving on from that inch by inch, step by step, day by day.

Speaking of journeys, I have a new partner to share this amazing ride with. He's sitting at my feet now, a little pissed that he can't go say hello to everyone here. Jolly has finally arrived from Boston. We are doing great. It's a learning process for both of us. I am so grateful to have him in my life, it's going to be fun, a challenge and an adventure. It's a big step for me, for years I wanted a dog, but felt unable to take care of myself, let alone a furry friend. At some point it dawned on me I was ready, a few trial runs later and Jolly showed up on my door - well I brought him to my door.

The rain has come and we are outside. No dogs allowed. I don't like to write to you guys inside anyway. I'm off to do some writing at home, out of the rain, the greatest dog in the whole wide world by my side (or wherever he wants) and a knowing that today is a Jolly Tuesday. I wish a Jolly one to you.

Love, Light and Laughs,
BS

Happy Steps!

Good Morning People. Dare I say great morning, sure why not. Great Morning People.

First I want to thank you all for your Love and support. Today is day 16 (not that I'm counting) of my drug free Second Year experiment. I've had three cigarettes in those 16 days. I can't remember ever being so clear headed, focused, feeling good and happy to be feeling good. Not too shabby Bitter! Thank you, I could do it without you all, but you guys make it easier and heaps more fun.

Another weekend at Wizard School, another step closer to getting my wand. This is real Wizard School, not Harry Potter make believe wizarding. I mean come on, who gives out magic wands to students not ready for them? That's just silly, unbelievable even. If I got my magic wand a year ago, I would have quit school, waved up a pile of blow and a cadre of hookers. Problems solved! (Or at least misplaced.) Hogwarts West, my Wizard School, is teaching me to find out what it is I want first, or what I don't want, and giving me the tools to manifest. Then I get the wand. Well, I assume there's some kind of wand involved anyway - there fucking better be or I'll be manifesting a six pack of whoop ass and sharing it with my professors.

I know one thing I want. Actually today I am going to claim that I have a big slice of it sans wand. Courage. Nobody said that becoming a wielder of magic was going to be easy, nobody said it was going to be hard now that I think about it. It takes some big brass balls to do some of things I am doing. Either that or a touch of lunacy. Let me be more specific for those of you who aren't at my school, who chose to study elsewhere - I'm a firm believer we are all studying somewhere, willing or not.

To become a wielder of the light, to be able to wave my Wizard School wand, I must clear out the judgments I've created. And boy were there heaps of them. It can be fucking scary. And I am doing it. Looking back at moments in my life that I've judged myself as less than perfect, times when I shamed myself, ran off to the corners of my mind, made a decision that that was just too scary and clearing them out. Wizard School is learning the skills to become a Self-cleaner, or a Lover of my dirt. Out with the old beliefs, old misunderstandings so I can see what is really there, so I can own what has always been there. Not what I have to get to become happy, more what I have to get rid of to remember that I came in to this world happy. And loved. Remembering that all of the "shit" that makes up me is fucking perfect, it's my judgments that cloud that perfection. I am not my shit! Sounds like a t-shirt.

I have the greatest example of perfection, of the divine we all are, in my life right now, and for that I am filled with gratitude. A true wielder of magic, a perfect divine being, swaddled in Red Sox (Yes God is a Sox fan) gear. Hugs (named because rumor has it that's what she loves), a beautiful eight week old girl who lives up the street. I met her on her first day here amongst us and have watched her grow. I think she's been watching me grow too. It's been amazing, a blessing. Brings me back to sixteen years ago when another amazing little girl was brought into my life while I was nearby. She's a brilliant wielder of magic, a powerful wizard who with her sisters teach me heaps every moment I'm around them. But sixteen years ago my eyes were much more clouded with my own judgments that I couldn't see as clearly as I do now. Today I see the perfection in a little one hot off the presses. Today I can see the beauty in her reflecting back at me, and owning it a little bit in myself.

Her Dad and Mom are two of my best friends, two people who love me and, at times, think I'm crazy. I can hear Hugs' Dad laughing at me already, I look forward to it actually for he is one of my bullshit detectors (I have several). He is one of the people I've created in my life to help me along my path, to show me where I am. Before Hugs was born I wouldn't have been as comfortable using him as an example; my own shit, my own insecurities that I've moved beyond. We've both grown. And tell him now that there is no such thing as a divine being, he may not like the God speak, but I can see it in his eyes. Tell him his daughter isn't perfect. I dare you because he knows that she is and I'm fairly certain he'd punch you in the nose moments after you lied and said she wasn't. Not that I want you to get punched in the nose, but sometimes that's what it takes to get a point across. And my point is we are all perfect, we are all divine.

There are no accidents in this world. None. And I've been blessed to be shown, to be near, a perfect example of what I am doing for myself. Being a parent to myself, loving and nurturing myself, reminding myself that I am a perfect divine being. Like Hugs, nowhere near as cute or huggable, but you get the picture. I just forgot, and told myself that I wasn't. I bought into some misunderstandings I picked up along the road of life and forgot what it was to be a divine being. I blame nobody, because it's all perfect, there's nothing to blame anyone for. Nothing. We are all perfect.

We all are. I know, Bitter is becoming sappy. Bitter is trying to become happy again. And Bitter is writing about himself in the third person, maybe Bitter has gone off the deep end. So be it, I am happy most days. And bitter some days, the days I forget how brilliant I am, how brilliant we all are. As I've written before I could focus on all that's not going right in my life, but more and more I'm choosing to focus on gratitude for my life. That's not to say I don't want to make changes, clear out cobwebs. That's why I'm at Wizard School, to remember who I was when I came into this world. To reclaim that power and all my light. Hugs does it so easily, she is a beacon of remembrance for me. For that I am so grateful, I thank her every time I see her. That's why she's in my life, I wont speculate why she chose the parents she chose but I will say she has excellent taste.

This weekend I celebrated myself and my classmates taking giant steps toward that goal, the goal of living a joy filled life. It really is quite simple, I just forgot, we all did, and started packing away judgments up in the attic to keep us separated from God. One day it got so cluttered up in my attic that I looked up and couldn't see her, I only could see all the shit I had collected. Let me tell you, that kept me from wanting to look for a long time. Now I am cleaning out that attic. Some days the window is open, my aim is perfect and the shit flies out. Other days I get half way up the stairs, realize I forgot something in the kitchen and never get back up to do the cleaning. It's all great. I don't beat myself up (much) anymore, and that is a big step forward for me. Being hard on myself just doesn't work, well it's worked perfect when I wanted to be Bitter, but now I'm wanting a slice of happiness.

This is my journey, I hope you know I am not preaching, not selling you that my way is better than your way. Things that have been struggles for me, come easy for others. I know this, I've seen this, I love this. I do know we are all perfect. Yes even the douchebag who doesn't use his directional or the loudtalking prick at the coffee shop. I may not want to spend a great deal of time with those people, but that doesn't make either of us less than perfect. One man's annoyance is another man's love. Hey another T-shirt - I smell a BS clothing line.

Tomorrow I may want to strangle those folk, I'm not here to tell you I have it all figured out, you know that I trust. What I do know is what works for me. It does take work, and I'm off to do some.

Love, Light and Laughs,
BS

Greetings People -

Been busy here at the home office. Actually was working an away game - away for me anyway, I did get out of the house. And I don't get out much. Making Hollywood magic.

Just checking my email and fucking off, so I thought I'd chirp in with a quick progress report. I continue to find myself annoying, yet exceedingly likable. And I did have two cigarettes this week. Gasp. Just needed to put that on the record as I intend to operatewith micro-honesty and integrity. Yeah you, my lucky readers, are like my support group. Yes lucky you.

My intention is smoke and drug free, and if I stumble I'll keep you posted, even a smoke or two. This way, if I go on a four day crack binge I will report it. I am crack free! I mean I was prior to the new year, but I figured I'd celebrate victories for battles not fought. Why not make shit easier.

Okay. Battery dying. Sun blinding my vision. Homeless folk lovingly pestering me - not for a cigarette anymore! - it's time to get some work done.

Wizard School this weekend. Maybe we get our brooms this weekend.

Love, Light and Laughs,
BS

Authentic! The New Cool.

Good Morning

Was just reading some of the dribble I've shoveled the last few days and wondered who the fuck is that guy. He seems happy go lucky, full of hope and promise. An optimist dare I say. Certainly not Bitter. Worst of all someone I loathe - a whore spreading his legs for all the world to see. Look at me! Look at me! See what I'm doing! See how hard I'm trying! See me! Love me! Blah fucking blah.

Not cool. It dawned on me - I'm not cool. Tough to take. I'm not sure I've ever been cool, but I know I've tried to be cool. I'm giving it up. I don't want to be anything but Authentic. Does that make me cool? At times I know I've thought I was. I have a great picture of me from my New York City days. Dressed in black, a wee splash of color, strategically placed lower lip hair. You know the prick? The cool prick. I was a man about town. A would be ladies man. I was an artist!

Last night I watched three artist talk of their art, their craft. Watching "It Might Get Loud" and it came to me - I'm giving up ever attempting to be cool. Jack White is cool. A creative genius. And cool. Sure he works at being cool, the shite he does just doesn't come natural I'm convinced. It's just not worth it. I'm not giving up living, just trying to get anyone to think anything about me. I'm striving to be Authentic. Fuck cool, it's not worth my effort. Does that make me cool?????????????

It may shock some people who know me. "You tried to be cool?" Yes I have. That practiced indifference. Seen it, know it, done it. Let me talk about my art, keeps me from being a craftsman. Let me be cool, keeps you at arms length. Cool kept me from being Authentic. Cool kept my focus on others, not on what matters to me. Right now what matters to me is being true to myself. And clearly what matters to me right now is sharing with you, my screaming stark raving mad fans. Legs they be spread.

I woke this morning feeling very uncool, very unloved, desperate for a hit of an old tonic. I could go on, but whining is not what I want to do. Ever. Nor do I want to blame someone else for my heartache. So I thought I'd come write about how uncool I was to make myself feel better - and I wonder why I'm fucking bitter? Full disclosure, I didn't even come to write about how uncool I am, I came out to see if my tonic would be around to see me. Fucking uncool, but true.

I want to go up to the fellow smoking on the sidewalk beside me and punch him. For no reason other than I feel raw. Exposed. Alone. Fuck am I whining? It sounded like it. I suppose I'll stop then. Move forward with my day. Part of me wants to write about how much it's going to suck and part of me wants to share beautiful heartfelt intentions. I'll split the difference, I'm going to be Authentic. That's all I can ever hope for, true to myself in each moment.

Here's to great moments. Tragically uncool, wonder-filled Authentic moments.

Love, Light and Laughs,
BS

My Loyal Masses -

I'm not sure if any of you care, I'm not sure who you are. And I like that. Perhaps this is a report to me from me. It streamlines the meetings anyway. Only the arguments of the idiots to slow me down.

Can't believe the energy I'm waking with each morning with these new choices. Yes I am only on day five, but what a difference five days makes. I'm a little nervous about this weekend - A little smoke won't kill you - Ah that's the voice that worries me. Because he's right, it won't kill me, but it will kill my Spirit. That's what I am nurturing right now, my spirit, my zest for life. Things I've tried to dampen in the past. No more.

Tis a grand morning. Lots of scenery here at my away game writing spot. Now that I'm working on new writing projects, I'm not sure what to do with my blog. I'm not too worried, again this could be just a letter to me. Okay I know there's a few of you out there who read this from time to time. Hello there!

I met with a writing coach, my writing coach, last night. First time for everything. My project(s) have come in to such clarity. Loving discipline! That's it, that's all it's going to take to give myself the life I want to live. I am giving it to myself. Sure I've got a mountain of debt; I'm an addict; I'm in love with a woman who drives me crazy and at last check wants to be my buddy; But I am loving life today, in this moment. I just looked up and the fellow on the table in front of me has a book titled "The Magic of Believing". I believe brother, I believe.

I mean come on, what's not to be filled with gratitude for? A little bee just zoomed by me, I've got The Pogues filling my ears, a little dance in my step, it's sunny and 70. I have a great life and it's only getting better.

Has Bitter Spiritualist turned into one of these annoying blogs? Or was I already? Hey I'm not smoking and off the dope, so give me a break. I have some extra energy. Instead of putting it toward editing and discerning what is appropriate for my bitter baby, I'm just putting it out there. At least I'm not bitching about how bad my life is - or would that be more palatable than how grand my life is? Hmmmmmm.......I find the grand life guy more annoying.

Okay I'm off to do some work.

Love, Light and Laughs
BS