Category Archives: Life

Turn me on…

There are things that turn you on right?! I mean you know what they are, don’t you? Do you actually do those things though?

Years ago I learned that there are certain principles that work when creating a life you love, yet I don’t necessarily use them. It’s like knowing what turns you on and never doing it. You know the base principle, but you don’t get around to applying it. It’s a waste of the perfect opportunity for a great sex life. 

Now the stuff I learned was:

  • Focus creates reality.
  • Structure has integrity.
  • Thoughts and feelings aren’t real.
  • Act from the heart/intution.
  • What would I love to create?
  • Hang with the tension.

Do you ever act out of fear for what might happen if you don’t? I do. All the time. Only that’s not quite right is it? Because my focus is on what I fear. So what am I truly looking to create? 

What I should be doing is finding out what I want to create and act to achieve that. Now my focus is on what I want. Now I can create what I desire instead of avoiding what I don’t want and all along thinking about what I don’t want and most likely therefore creating that. 

Still, things can go wrong. 

For example, I could start to manipulate people to get what I want, instead of acting from the heart when creating it. In which case things can go really wrong, because you’re creating things that don’t ring true to other people’s hearts. Think of it this way: you know you want a great CEO for your company. That’s true to your heart. Then you realize one of your friends is looking for a job and they happen to be an amazing CEO with no passion for your business. You need a CEO and suddenly you aren’t checking in with your heart anymore — you just see this great CEO friend of yours and as you really need a CEO and need one now you’re set on getting them on board. Especially as they were really successful in their last venture so your ego is singing hallelujah. 

So you try to convince them. Then you beg. You might use tactics like provoking their guilt, or increasing the pay check. You might even make yourself sick with worry and ask them to please stand in for you while you are sick. And how could they refuse now? 

That kind of behavior can create a landslide of trouble as no one is acting from their heart so you have a dispassionate CEO who is likely resentful having to do what they don’t want to do. 

Similar things happen in dating all the time — instead of speaking from the heart people try all sorts of tactics to get people interested in them. It ranges from sexual manipulation, to being needy. Sexual exploration isn’t wrong, asking for someone’s help isn’t wrong, but using it to get a person involved with you without clear communication is wrong. 

So once you know what you want, you need to focus on that. Because the more you focus on it, the more energy you will give it and the more likely you are to create it. Sit thinking about how hopeless life feels and chances are you won’t have any energy to create.

Then you have to go after what you want with integrity — always acting from the heart, using your intuition as a guide. 

Along the way things will probably get pretty uncomfortable. To get what you never had you have to do what you never did. Most of us have wounds and scars and avoid certain things like the plague. Personally I have a strong dislike of speaking about emotions and standing up for myself. To avoid it I’ve used plenty of manipulation and aloofness in the past. Those were faulty mechanisms to try to protect myself from what I felt was uncomfortable. 

This is where you need to hang with the tension. Your thoughts and feelings aren’t real — they are projections based on your past, or simply interpretations of life. You can choose to see things differently and therefore feel something different. 

As for structure, everything in life has some sort of structure. If you want to create a certain result, you need a structure that supports it. For example, if when dating people you usually start having a lot of thoughts that it will never work out around week three, or month five, or whatever, then you will always break it up then, unless you create another structure. Say, you hire a coach that asks you if those thoughts and feelings are actually real and coming from your heart, or you’re acting from your wound. 

If you keep acting from your wound, instead of putting a new structure in place, you’ll keep getting the same results. 

Likewise, if you want to change your finances, or your work results, you need structures in place that help you do so. If you want to get fit, but was never motivated to do so, then you need a new structure. Such as a personal trainer who makes sure you go to the gym, an app that tracks your progress, a friend that keeps your accountable, or a new activity that you are actually excited about. 

In the last year I’ve also heard my coach say over and over again that the person with the biggest hard on wins (yes, that’s a metaphor) and I believe this is another principle I should be applying in my life. If you are constantly manipulated by other people’s energy, if your focus shifts from the results you wish to create to whatever energy is around you (be it a flat tyre, or an irritated boss), you will never achieve your results. Your energy needs to be strong enough to carry you through (see yesterday’s blog for more on this topic). It will help to have the right structures in place to support you, but you also have to keep your focus on things that inspire you enough to move forward. Focus creates reality. 

That’s it folks. I’m clearly obsessing about what’s turning me on right now, being in the end result of creating it. With, you know, some dude who gets me. 

Dizzy blonde, over and out. 

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Image Source: https://za.pinterest.com/pin/507780926729381962/

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Light my fire…

My coach always says “the person with the biggest hard on wins,” which I always thought sounded terribly crude. Coming from me, that probably sounds absurd as we’re talking someone who can crack fifty sex jokes a minute on this blog, without raising an eyebrow. Still, I think it sounds crude. Yet, last week I started repeating this phrase to myself till I was going dizzy. Why? Because it’s true. The penny finally hit the slot.

What my coach really means is that whoever vibrates on the highest frequency, or has the most energy, wins.

Have you ever met energy vampires? You’re most likely the worst energy vampire you’ll ever meet as your own energy affect you more than anyone else’s, but there are people close to us that affect us a lot as well.  The boy I raise is one of them for me, as he has behavioral issue and last week I was beside myself. I know what to do to handle him — I read The Kazdin Method for Parenting years ago and in short, you use a ton of energy to make everything you are about to do sound amazing and you encourage the kid for everything well-done. Bad behavior you say no to once, firmly, then ignore. You don’t engage. You don’t get angry. You are a loving storm wind of enthusiasm.

It’s just, I’m not always feeling like a loving storm wind of enthusiasm; sometimes I’d just like to say “Come sit down and have dinner,” without having to do funny voices, talk about how fantastic the meal is going to be, or perform a musical show for entertainment purposes. I want to be able to raise my voice when I’m annoyed about something without having to end up with a one hour, or day long tantrum because of it. But I know the moment I lower my energy, I’ve lost.

I sometimes forget to be this person. There are times when things are going well and it’s not needed and I slip into being a regular mom who gets grumpy when a child purposefully destroys a nice moment by doing something utterly ridiculous, or dangerous, like playing with buttons in my car. There are also times when I’m simply tired and think I can get away with being tired and, sometimes, grumpy. But the grumpier I get, thinking “he should just understand” the worse the situation gets.

For people who have never encountered these kind of issues, it often sounds foreign when you explain. They tell you the child needs discipline, or love, and think they’ll react like any other child. They don’t. You can’t just use logic and say it isn’t a good idea to do whatever it is they are doing and punish them for it. It doesn’t work. It just creates more havoc. For them the destructive behavior is a weapon. They use that weapon for a reason.  Maybe it’s to get attention. Maybe it’s their only way of feeling in control. Maybe it’s their way of keeping people away, as they’ve been hurt a lot. Maybe they have come to hate themselves and want to continue down that path. Whatever it is, they use anger as a weapon to get what they want. You have to disarm them. And you disarm them by bringing a completely different kind of energy to the table.

When I was beside myself last week as PMS set in, the babysitter cancelled and I was stuck with a toddler, an angry eleven-year old and his easily aggravated sister, a messy house and an intense need to work, I thought I’d break. I wanted to lock myself into the bathroom and cry. I wanted to hurl all the pain my kid ever caused me right back at him. All the hurt I felt at being on the receiving end of his anger for years. I wanted to take the pain he was throwing me and shove it in his face. I was so tired of not ever being able to come home and relax, I thought I’d snap.

I felt life was unfair and I was a victim of circumstance. I was angry about a gazillion different things that I felt were stacked against me and had been issues over the years. I wanted to hide inside a hug, or a bottle of wine. Or better yet: inside a hug in a bottle of wine. I wanted an energy to counteract my kid’s. I wished I was in London so I had more friends to turn to. I wished I had a boyfriend. I wished I had unlimited funds for nannies, therapists, schools and babysitters. I wished for a million things. And I felt lonely and helpless and sad and had no idea how to get through till evening, much less however long until the kid has everything he needs to change his behavior — from schools to therapists.

This is when I pulled myself up by the ears and told myself the person with the biggest hard on wins. I needed a different energy to counteract it all. I needed to be a positive whirlwind stronger than my kid’s anger and pain and strong enough to look after two more kids and work. I needed to be superhuman, pretty much. I needed energy super powers

Normally energy control does not involve dealing with people with severe behavioral problems. Normally it involves the thoughts you have around different situations. Habitual thoughts that drain your own energy. You go into a situation with the wrong energy to achieve what you want to achieve. Like thinking you want to be with someone but suck at relationships, or want a raise but suck at negotiating, or want a job but are terrified of interviews. When it comes to other people, normally it involves a grumpy boss, a tricky client, or a boyfriend who you want to reprimand for something, but instead of reprimanding should encourage to do something different. Because encouragement works. Positive re-enforcement. The Kazdin Method of Parenting. The biggest hard on. Call it what you like. It works.

Usually with every negative event that occurs and every negative action (or what we perceive as negative) a person takes against us, we lose a little bit of our mojo and our natural instinct is to punish. Soon we are caught up in whatever energy we were handed, instead of choosing our own energy.

You cannot solve a problem with the same thinking that created it.

The thing is, this isn’t just about problems. You have a lot of power. A lot. Your energy alone can transform not just yourself, but others. How you meet people every day affects them. Now, everyone has the option of choosing their own energy, but as my story hopefully conveys, it takes effort to do that. When you are met with a smile everywhere you go, you don’t need the same amount of effort to stay in a good space.

Everybody’s candle burns out at some point. Mine burnt out last week. I’ve struggled to re-ignite it and keep the flame going ever since. Last night I messaged my coach saying I know what to do. I know I’m not a victim. I know I can win this situation. I know if I can win this, I can win many other situations, because I will become a master at managing my own energy. I know it will take time to put functional structures, such as nannies in place, but that I can do it. I also know I need a hug. Because I’m struggling really hard right now to keep my energy up. And it certainly didn’t get better when the little one woke up at 5am and weed all over my bed. It’s an add on effect.

Shit happens. We all have our flame start flickering at some point. It might even go out, as we enter the dark side. As we give up on achieving what we truly want to achieve in a situation. Remember that you can re-ignite it. Also remember to ask for help to do so — hugs are awesome things (just don’t ask me how to ask for a hugs as I’m still working out how to do that myself — such as putting myself in the energy to receive them…).

You are a match and people are waiting to be lit up by your energy, just as you are a candle waiting to be lit up by your own flame and those of others.

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Image source: https://za.pinterest.com/CarnavalDuDesir/naughty-and-nice/

 

 

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It’s time to pull the zipper down…

There are moments in life that undress you. One moment you stand there fully clothed and the next you’re stark naked.

I always liked when people got naked. Usually it’s when they run into trouble, face their demons and crack open. Their carefully crafted coping mechanisms fail. The ego driven patterns they’re hiding their flaws behind crack. And suddenly they find themselves naked. Usually uncomfortable for them, but nice for the onlookers, who suddenly see their heart.

Maybe they need to wash off some of the crap they’ve landed themselves in, but their heart is right there. And it’s beautiful.

I had one of those moments the other day. Someone asked me something along the lines of: “Wouldn’t your gran like to have had one more experience? Like if you’d asked her before she died, wasn’t there something she wished she’d done?” And my reply was: “No, she’d just have wanted to spend more time with her family.”

When I said it I didn’t think too much about it, but when I came home it made me teary-eyed. One, because that side of the family is gone save from my sister and I. Two, because I’ve been driven by so many other things than my gran was — she was driven by family and she was happy and content, save from when people started passing over. That was her downfall — she couldn’t deal with that and let new people enter her life.

I, on the other hand, have had many incredible experiences all over the world, but it wasn’t until the past five odd years I started feeling remotely happy being me. And it wasn’t until last year I started taking my social life seriously. Because even though I knew more people than most could dream of, I was so scared of rejection I never focused on actually stitching it all together. And while this blog can attest to my many epiphanies surrounding dating over the years, I never truly thought myself capable of finding a man who loved me that I loved. Until possibly earlier this year.

I know I’m a bit of an adrenaline and experience junkie. And I get high on breaking convention. I also get a sense of fulfillment from film and Magique, as well as Little Angels, that I don’t think my gran got from her work. But I also know that as a child I filled my life with stories because I felt lonely — I was bullied and unhappy around my step-mom so I hid in books.

Yesterday I went to the doctor as I’ve caught the latest Cape Town epidemic: a stomach bug. Nothing serious, just an upset tummy, but you know after a week you start feeling a tad drained. The kind doctor put me on a fast — rehydration drinks for 24 hrs followed by bread and potatoes only for 24 hrs.

Now, I’ve done a lot of juice fasts in my day and they’re fascinating, because food is one of those feel good things. Makes you happy when you taste yummy things. Also gives you energy. When you don’t have energy you get cranky and start facing your demons. Same thing if you’re bored and alone without distraction.

Today, I realized, while tired and grumpy, just how addicted I am to food. And get me right: I’m pro a certain level of food addiction. Life should be tasty, if you ask me. But I can also see how a good book and a glass of wine, or a treat and my favorite Netflix, is a substitute for going out there and meeting people. I think good books, food and Netflix are wonderful,  it’s just using one good thing to replace another isn’t a great strategy.

Co-incidentally (if there is such a thing) I’m reading Brand’s Recovery at the moment as I always wanted an excuse to attend an AA meeting so I could learn the darn steps. Now there’s a book for that. Not that I think it can substitute what you get from the group meetings, in fact I believe if you suffer from any kind of addiction AA should be your next stop (take it from one who has known and dated enough former addicts to break the rules of probability), but for us who don’t want to turn into addicts to join AA it’s a great book. At least if you’ve lived in London and are used to foul language.

Anyway, my point, dear readers, is that I realized I have my little addictions. I already knew I had patterns. Run from loneliness by creating loneliness is one of them (sounds counter-intuitive, but hey, constantly moving round the world and being a workaholic you’re too busy to get a stabile social life so you never need feel rejected). Using food and stories to combat loneliness is an addiction though. I always said that books were my drug as a kid. If it hadn’t been for stories I thought I’d ended up committing suicide or taking drugs. I never wanted to do either, but I figured that’s because I had something that gave me hope. People always look at me with incredulity when I say those things these days, because I’m no longer the shy kid hiding in my room, petrified of my step-sisters cool friends, but I still carry that child inside me. The child that couldn’t for the life of her understand why she didn’t have friends. Couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her, but figured she was seriously flawed somehow.

The truth is, I never fully opened up. I tried. Just as I tried liking myself. And it gets better all the time. I no longer want to run into walls because I hate myself so much and the experience in hospice was the latest thing that made me feel like I cracked open. And that comment about gran’s greatest desire brought it home even more — because there are few things more important than the people in our lives. I need to open myself up to those people. Unlike gran it isn’t just about family for me. I think everyone we love is family. And there are a whole bunchload of people I really love. I’d like to be fully present with them. And spend as much time with them as physically possible.

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Why wiping someone’s ass should be a dating priority…

I was speaking to my ninety-one year-old gran last night and her body is falling apart. Quite literally. She has breast cancer which came back and now her body, apart from being old and frail, is struggling with coping altogether. It was a harrowing phonecall.

It’s not that my gran is at the ICU at the moment, or in a hospital bed. She was at the ER yesterday though, because her body is filling up with fluid and she has diahorrea. It’s not pretty. In fact, it’s pretty damn horrific.

I was with my gran a year-and-a-half ago when she was first diagnosed with cancer and had surgery. I was raised partially by my grandparents and I’ve seen gran and her body in some of the most compromising positions you could imagine. I’ve also seen her struggle as she got older. Struggle to walk, struggle to get dressed, struggle to stand up… Her body is old.

My other gran, before passing away, became senile. With her I saw the struggle of remembering things, as well as fighting demons from the past. I got phonecalls about old lovers and heard of bitter regrets. I was there to help her use the bathroom. Ever since I’ve said that true love is wiping someone’s ass when they can no longer do it themselves.

My grandparents were my saving grace when I was a child. They were there through mom dying, through the bullies, through evil stepmoms, through teenage depression, they were there through it all. They were the place I ran to. They were my safe haven.

That doesn’t mean that my grandparents and I have always agreed on things, or understood one another — far from it. But I grew up with them serving me by raising me, so I always wanted to give the same back. Protection and care. And I think that’s the bottom line of any relationship. If that kind of commitment isn’t there, you have nothing.

We inherit the best and the worst from people. My grandparents brought me life, security, artistry, creativity, smarts, asthma, cold sores and vericose veins. I’ve never disliked my body, nor have I ever really understood if someone has loved me, or my body. Because, you know, I have flaws. I couldn’t breathe properly as a child, how’s that for being flawed?

My childhood had my self-confidence obliterated, save from the confidence I had in my skills. It’s taken me a long time to rebuild that other confidence; the part of me that’s OK to just be a human. It was only when I pretty much had nothing going for me in South Africa that I started to realize that I needed to learn to live anyway. You know, really live. Breathe in the moment and have fun.

In my battle for visa and adoption rights I’d pretty much lost everything I had — there was a business in limbo, no money in the bank, no social life, no career successes, no nothing. There was just me and what looked like a hopeless situation fighting for the children. And somewhere I decided to take responsibility for that situation and kick life in its balls.

It worked. Wasn’t pain free, didn’t provide immediate solutions, but it worked. I still have nightmares pretty much every night about the children, business, finances and visas, but I learnt to be happy in the face of it all. It hurts with the kids. It hurts to high heavens and back again, but I let it go and I live. I cry too, but I live. And I keep fighting. I just make sure to live too.

Feeling like you’ve fucked up your entire life can be a really good lesson in learning to live and love. Love yourself.

Now, my point with all this, is that we all have a choice to take responsibility for our lives. We also all have bodies that will one day fall apart. We face events that will, at some point, break us. We make mistakes that we regret with bitter tears. And sometimes we face pain in ways we never thought possible. Like being separated from a child, or losing a husband, or getting arrested for a crime we never committed.

But the only way to conquer that is to learn to live in the face of it. And slowly climb the mountain to overcome it. It doesn’t happen over night, but it is possible. Your wrinkles, your flaws, your current pissy situation, none of that is an excuse to hate yourself, or stop finding moments of happiness. It might feel impossible, but you can and will love yourself and your life, if you just decide to do it. Little by little. So if it’s only finding one moment of belly deep laughter.

No, you probably aren’t perfect. Nor is anyone else. And everyone will annoy the hell out of you at some point, hurt you and make you mad as they come. But if you are committed to loving them and loving yourself, I think you have a fair chance of living a happy life. Even in the midst of all the chaos, unfairness and everything else that is life.

So do it. Go have fun. Because you can. Because you’re not ninety-one years-old and falling apart. Because you haven’t yet reached a point where there is nothing you can do about your regrets and failing memory. So live. Live a little.

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Gran and I. 

Want to see an inspirational woman embracing her body? Watch this! http://video.allure.com/watch/dispelling-beauty-myths-disabilities (Unfortunately WordPress wants me to upgrade my account to be able to share the video with you directly — so hence the link.)

 

 

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Love is a beautiful battle…

A few weeks ago I was having a phone conversation with my best friend. I had flown to Athens to see her and was really looking forward to seeing her, so I was trying to arrange a meeting. She launched into a monologue about what her schedule looked like, that she never came into central Athens during the weekend, or evenings, when I was free, she was so busy and blah, blah, blah.

I had had a shit week, I had PMS and the one thing that kept me going was the idea of alone time, on a beach, or anywhere in nature, with my best friend. As I did have PMS I was struggling with an insane amount of thinking I was unlovable, so by the time I hung up the phone, ready to cry because somehow I had now triggered my best friend into treating me unlovingly as well, I felt like shit.

I knew I had to do two things: I had to tell my best friend she was behaving like a twat and I had to excuse myself for, most likely, trying to provoke her into behaving like a twat. Because if you feel unlovable, you provoke people into doing things to prove you right. And you have to understand, when I have PMS you can tell me I have coffee on my nose and I will think you hate me, or that you are the biggest idiot alive, the world has come to an end and we can all just prepare for doomsday.

So I wrote my best friend a funny message about PMS where I pointed out the above. As it turned out, she had turned around and just yelled at her boyfriend a few hours later and he had calmly picked up the calendar and told her she had PMS.

She had had social demands on her, for a week, so when I told her to come into Athens she lost it, because she had PMS.

I didn’t enjoy messaging my friend to sort out whatever weird “actions” (drama school language for mental as well as physical actions we have towards people) and purposes (drama school language for what our psychological gain is for doing something) we had during that conversation, but my relationship with her is a lot more valuable to me than my discomfort is discomforting.

Which brings me to the next point.

Last night I came home after a long day. I had been rockclimbing the day before (amazing!) and spent all of yesterday out with friends. You see, last week, I decided that it was time for me to do what I love in order to build my spirit and regain my strenght, so as to have strenght to work and get back to the kids after visa hick-up number four. I had an incredbile weekend, but I was physically spent. That’s when I received a message from my baby girl in Cape Town.

As some of you know I help raise a pair of ten-year-old twins and their now one-year-old baby brother in the township and I’ve fought visas and adoption rules for about four years; having known them for five. This journey is the hardest journey I’ve ever had and I’ve been on the brink of emotional collapse more than once.

Last night I got all these messages saying she loves me, the baby has taken his first steps, and then she sent me this crying emoji and I asked her why. She’s like “it’s just the baby ❤ ❤ ❤ ” and I said I wish I was there to hold him and she sent the below picture. Cue me bursting into tears. She even found an image with the right skin tones. I don’t know why that made me more emotional, but it did.

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I had just been thinking of how tired I am. I have spent you don’t want to know how much money setting up a business and going round the world on a visa mission to be with these kids and I’ve messed up my career, my social life and my life in general and I’m beyond exhausted. Sometimes I don’t know how to keep going.

At that moment, all I wanted was a hug. Not from a friend, but from a man. It’s all I’ve wanted since I started helping the kids, because I’ve wanted someone to be there for me. Support me. Not do my job for me, just be there. Just hug me. And it’s the kind of intimacy you’ll never get from a friend, because it feels different. Friends help, but a relationship is intimate on a whole other level.

Yet, a few weeks ago when I was talking to my coach and he was giving me “love goals” I was telling him I didn’t understand how to achieve them, because let’s face it: I might know a gazillion things about relationships, and I might get 800 men swiping right on Tinder in a few weeks (true story, ego hallelujah), but falling in love makes me feel so terribly uncomfortable (unlovable and not good enough) that I spend most of my time trying to become perfect (impossible) and end up giving up on the whole thing because it’s too uncomfortable feeling like I’m not perfect.

This is when my coach told me that he’s seen me with the kids for five years and no matter what life threw me, I didn’t stop. Nothing stopped me.

I remember thinking when gran got senile and I was helping her in the bathroom, that love isn’t pretty, but it is beautiful. Love isn’t easy, but it is worth it. And my childhood didn’t make it easy for me to accept love, instead I strove to be perfect feeling I wasn’t good enough. I’ve often felt my adult life has been a long fight of not giving into the demons of my childhood; a long fight of opening myself up to love and joy and letting go of depression and self-hatred.

The question maybe I should ask myself is this: if my kids and best friend are worth me overcoming my demons, my fears and my discomfort, maybe my own happiness (a.k.a being loved by a man I truly have a connection with) would be worth the same? It’s a question of will.

I’m not perfect. My best friend isn’t perfect. My gran wasn’t perfect. My kids aren’t perfect. But we are all perfectly lovable. And it is perfectly possible to create great relationships. You just wade through the discomfort, is all. Because it is worth it.

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The milk and cookies rebound…

We’ve all had one right? A rebound. The restoration shag, or date, or…just about anything goes so long as it’s not Him or Her. It’s like milk and cookies when having a bad day: it restores your mind and heart by giving you a rush. You’re no longer down in the dumps, you’re functioning again. You might even see the rainbow after the rain.

For that reason, I am all pro rebounds. You went from being down in the dumps to functional. Realized there were more people to date than your ex. Marvelous. Or if you were onto the milk and cookies rebound, you found some energy and realized the world wasn’t half as bad as you thought half an hour ago. Again: marvelous.

Restoration shags/dates/cookies, if you so like, are one way of getting out of the dumps and back into the world of the living. The problem (you knew that was coming, didn’t you?)? The problem is that if you’re constantly living your life in reaction to events, you are no longer the captain of your ship (mind and body).

You had a bad day, so you call your friend to go for drinks, to take your mind off the day. That means you aren’t going there to enjoy the company of your friend and the bar; you’re going there to get away from your thoughts about the day. Which means you aren’t likely solving whatever problem is bugging you either.

In other words, what’s your end result for the evening? Moping about your problems, running away from them, or having fun with your friend?

That’s not to say that venting, getting love and encouragement from a friend, or taking your mind off things, isn’t a good idea. It can be a great idea. If that’s what you want to create. If that’s what your heart desires.

The thing is, we do all sorts of shit just because of how we are feeling in the moment. We try to release whatever tension we’re holding around something by doing something else. If what you truly want is to create a relationship with your soulmate, going to a bar to find someone to shag is not going to get you any closer, unless intuitively you know that going to that bar that night will take you closer to your goal.

Rebound techniques are similar to simply unleashing our frustration. Like, you know, wanting to create an amazing relationship with someone, only to yell at them when they say, or do something that hurts you. Do you really think you’ll create what you’d love (an amazing relationship), by trying to hurt them because you feel hurt?

Whether you’re feeling frazzled, or happy, stop. Ask yourself what you’d love to create right now. What would you truly love to create? Then take obvious action.

If you’re feeling lonely one night, then curling up on the couch with a movie and a bucket of ice cream might make you feel better, but what becomes obvious is that you should find something to do where you meet people. Possibly not that night, but for the future. Open Google and do some work on that, then you can have the ice cream and the movie.

Quick fixes are sometimes brilliant solutions as they get you in the right frame of mind for creating what you’d love, but remember that if you want to create long term highs, you need to ask yourself what you’d truly love to create, not just resolve the psychological tension around whatever’s bugging you at the moment.

Aniston and Butler in a photo shoot for W Magazine. Unfortunately there are no cookies in there, but see, I found at least one sexy picture with milk… 

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Life’s a bitch and then you have an orgasm…

Do you ever complain about life? I do. Life can be a bitch sometimes. Seriously. And there are times when you despair. You’ve banged your head against the same wall for what seems like an eternity. Every door that opened got slammed in your face, or led to a dead end. Your thoughts start circling in a negative downspiral and life starts feeling like it sucks.

This year I decided to pull my head out of the gutter. However, there have been a few slamming doors this year too and after walking head first into a door rather recently I started despairing. I thought I’d be stuck in the same situation forever. And as one thing was tied to another, that was tied to another, that was tied to another, I felt trapped. Like I’d never find a way out. The kids I help raise are in Cape Town, so I need to get back. For that reason I can’t change jobs, can’t do this, can’t do that, am financially strapped…and I have felt very stuck for a very long time.

Have I felt like a victim and pitied myself? Oh you have no idea. Have I gotten angry and wanted to punch a number of government officials? Hell to the yes. Have I panicked and felt like the lousiest extra parent in the world and hated myself for it? Gosh, you have no idea what a terrible person I am and how much I can possibly hate myself. Have I awoken in a state of panic from dreams of the kids, screaming, hyper ventilating, or crying? Way too many times to count. Sometimes I’m scared of sleeping.

Have I wanted to give up? Yes. I’ve felt like there is no strenght left in me. Like I’ll never win this fight. Like there’s no joy left in life. Like there is no way out of this blooming visa-adoption-career nightmare.

This year I decided to choose art. Choose poetry. Choose magical moments. Choose to believe that what I can do for the kids is a blessing, not that what I can’t do is a curse. In general, do what I can to enjoy what I can. When a door closes a window opens. It is all about that window. About the moment. About what you can do.

Some times are harder than others. It’s inevitable…and sometimes we invite it by doing something utterly stupid. We need to forgive ourselves. Give ourselves the gift of allowing ourselves to enjoy the moment. Give that joy to others. And slowly change our life and that of those around us simply by growing flowers in the mud. As the story goes, I prefer satin and Egyptian cotton sheets, but there’s nothing saying you can’t have an orgasm on whatever you picked up at Ikea. And I’m talking about the sheets you pick up there, not the men. Should Ikea come up with an invention for “easy-to-put-together-Scandinavian-men” that included the perfect user manual maybe I’d consider it, but Scandinavian men are generally not my type. I prefer the more exotic version…

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Poem No. 69: Desire of Life. Writing poetry for Magique is one of the things that’s resurrected my spirits this year. Poetry, to me, is like growing flowers in the mud when you focus on the beauty of life. This poem was written today. More poetry can be found here

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Filed under Insights, Inspiration, Inspirational, Life, Musings, poetry, the beauty of life, the journey of life, Thoughts, Uncategorized