Tag Archives: life learnings

An orgasmic experience…

No, I’m not talking about OM meditation. Though some of my friends in San Fran swear by it.

Nor am I talking about tantra, though I have attended workshops.

I’m not even talking about sex at all. I’m talking about you. Yes, YOU.

I love mornings. As the sun rises, I can feel the life force beating within me. The raw force of being alive. The hunger to live. Or, at the very least: the longing for a cup of coffee. 

I have desires awakening within me and it feels good.

There have been times when I haven’t had that. When I’ve needed a soak in an ice cold bathtub to even be able to feel my own soul. But the soul doesn’t die. It just goes to sleep sometimes. 

Anyway, I see mornings as a new beginning. A clean slate. A chance to start over. 

And this morning there were some particularly beautiful clouds in the sky and I was feeling excited about the day ahead. About life. About new beginnings. 

And what hit me is that new beginnings mean forgiving ourselves. To truly let go of our past. 

You are not your yesterday. Simply, because it’s not yesterday anymore. Today is a new day. So you can be whoever you like. 

Sure, you may have scars. Bleeding wounds, even. Some of us have no job, weigh fifteen pounds too much, have a horrible relationship, are a million dollars in debt, are complete sugar addicts, or some other such nuisance we have to deal with. Beause we do have have to deal with it, but we don’t have to be stuck with it. Bury ourselves in it. It can become the past too, if only we let it.

Look upon it this way: you can think about yourself as an unfit loser who prior to today hasn’t exercised in ten years, or you can think about yourself as someone who is now exercising. The two will bring about very different feelings and, therefore, very different actions. 

Most people make their problems, perceived flaws, past mistakes, and supposed undesirable sides, their main focus. Then they freak out and do something to try to resolve the tension they feel. Like downing a bottle of wine, exercising for ten hours straight, eating a cake, binge watching Netflix, or burying themselves in work. Which only creates more problems. So when you shift your focus to think about something else — something other than your problems or flaws — your life changes. Because you stop doing the stupid shit you’re doing to mentally have a break from your problems.

Face the problem/pain. Because you have to. Then move past it. Refocus your attention.

So, even if you haven’t exercised for ten years and are fifteen pounds overweight, think about yourself as someone who exercises. Even if it’s just walking around the block. Congratulate yourself on that. What you did the past ten years doesn’t matter. What you’re doing right now, which is walking around the block, is what matters. Soon, as someone who exercises, you’ll naturally walk two blocks. This will make you feel better, so you’ll start doing small sprints. Then you’ll…

You’re free you know. Free not to think about your past. Free to create your future. Free to do whatever the hell you like. So choose to do something that serves you. Something that fuels you. Something that lifts your spirits. It may take a while for you to really feel it. No one feels great when exercising for the first time in ten years. Nor does saving a dime when you owe a million feel like much. Most likely: you don’t feel it. May take three weeks to notice a difference in your state of mind after chaning your habits. But sure as hell you’ll notice. You’ll move forward. You’ll feel better. 

And remember: it’s not about an overnight overhaul. You don’t have to stop eating sugar entirely. You can just make sure you have one cake instead of two. Or eat a salad before the cake. Or go for a run before eating the cake. Set little goals. Tiny ones. If you can’t handle the big stuff, and most people can’t over night, do the little stuff. Don’t think about it as climbing Kilimanjaro. Think about it as stepping stones.

Can’t master that? Can’t save a dime a day, or go for a run before having cake? Then do something else that you CAN do. Smile at someone. Hug someone. Donate a dollar to a worthy cause. Plant a tree. Smile at the shy girl. (As someone who used to be shy I can tell you now that a smile…it can be life transforming. That’s the power you have.) Join a charity. Do an act of kindness.

Because, you see, the more you do worthy things, the more worthy you feel. The worthier you feel, the easier it will be to forgive your past and present woes and allow yourself to do the things that make you happy in the present. Because suddenly, you feel like you deserve them. And by doing them, you become an even better person.

Really, the solution for an orgasmic life is love. Because if you love yourself you automatically do things to create what you love and give love to others. Your life’s pleasure level will be on top. But most of us don’t love ourselves inside and out, so it helps with, you know giving a flower to a homeless person, even if you don’t feel like it. Because even if you messed everything else up that day, at least you know you did something good. And it’s that one good thing you need to hold onto.

So even if you don’t feel like getting out of bed in the morning for your own sake, do it for someone else. Do it for something beyond you. Something bigger than you. Failing that, hire someone to kick you out of bed every morning. Create a structure you can’t get out of.

Life is about two things: your thoughts and your habits; your structure. If you change your thoughts, you change your structure. If you change your structure, you change your thoughts. And if you change either, you change your life.

You’re free. Today is a new day. A clean slate. An orgasmic opportunity. So look upon yourself as a present opportunity, not a past mistake. Look upon yourself as someone who has the power to transform lives. If so, only with a smile. And I can tell you right now, that while a smile to a stranger may change their lives, or at the very least: make their day better, a smile to someone who loves you means the world to them.

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Do you have faith? Faith in a higher power? Faith in your own abilities? Faith in the people in your life? 

When I travel I always have faith I’ll find somewhere to live that suits my needs. I have absolute faith that it will pan out. Because it always has. Even when I stood with a broken credit card no money in Paris at the tender age of nineteen, it panned out. 

When I travel I have faith life/God/the Universe will provide me with what I need. I also have faith in my own abilities. I know that if you ask enough people, someone will have what you’re looking for and I will find it. 

Moreover, I have faith that I’ll get through storms. I’ll get through them because I never give up. Even if I end up with one more scar, or one more wrinkle. I’ll win. 

Other people tend to admire me for this. Just today, my doctor was talking to me about this, as she knows some of what I’ve been through with the kids I help raise. A lot of people find me inspirational. Few see the pain that I’ve gone through with a lot of the “inspirational” things I’ve done. My doctor knows the pain. She’s the one dealing with my over worked immune system.

While I have faith I’ll get through storms, I am petrified of calm and quiet. I have very little faith I can live a happy life without a million storms. But I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of being overworked. I’m tired of caring for others when not being cared for myself. I’m tired of facing crazy ass situations that are mentally and emotionally draining.

I’m not tired of challenges. I thrive on them. But I’d prefer working out how to spend the millions of dollars I’m making from movies instead of working out how to survive on a dollar a day. I’d like different kinds of challenges than the ones I’ve faced in recent years. 

You know what I want? I want to have fun. I want to enjoy myself. I want to go on dates where I laugh till I cry. I want to dance till I’m spinning through the air. I want to crawl on the floor to get the perfect angle for a shoot (yes, I know, we all have different ideas of happiness). I want to laugh with my children. I want to bake cookies and have whipped cream wars. I want to drive with the wind blowing through my hair and the sun tickling my skin. I want to come home to a happy home. I want to be happy. 

This scares me. I’m scared the moment I relax all hell will break loose. Bizarrely, always worrying makes me feel safe. Being in the middle of a storm makes me feel safe. I’m scared of letting go and relaxing when things are quiet.

In the twelve steps in AA one of the steps is giving up your power to a higher source. When I sat in a hot tub in LA bawling my eyes out and asking a higher power for guidance as I was so depressed I couldn’t feel anything and didn’t have a clue what to do, I surrendered to that power. That way my depression started to lift as my reason for having it became obvious. And from there, what to do to move forward became obvious. Likewise, when I travel I have absolute faith that the journey will reveal itself. And it does. 

Having faith doesn’t mean you don’t have to take action. You do. It’s not like I don’t have to look for accommodation when I travel. I do. It’s just I have faith I’ll find it. I feel safe in the hands of God or whatever powers may be. Then I move my ass. 

Similarly, you have to have faith in the people in your life. Faith that they’ll do right by you. Faith that they can handle what life puts in their path. Faith they’ll do the right thing. Some won’t. But if you have faith, you know the wrong people will fall away. Because they won’t get what they want from you if you let faith guide you. They won’t get the payoff they seek. You also know that the right people will reveal themselves. That they will show up when you truly need them. That your life will be blessed with the right people. 

I want to have fun. That means I have to take the necessary steps to get there. I know I’m happy when I’m dancing. So it’s really obvious to book a class. Then I have to show up to that class. Faith is just knowing that it’ll be alright. That I’ll find the right teacher — even if it’s not on the first try. Faith that it will pan out. Faith that I’ll be happy on the dance floor once more. 

The truth is, I’ve avoided dancing for a long time. Just like I’ve avoided being in a stable relationship. Just like I’ve avoided having a stable home. Just like I’ve avoided having a straight forward career. I’ve avoided things where I feel I need to let go. Things that would make my life stable. Simple. Things that would take me out of the storm. Things that would allow me to relax. Because that’s my fear. Relaxing. The feeling of being relaxed and unguarded. Unprepared. Vulnerable. 

I want to be happy. I want to have faith I can be happy. I have faith. I have faith that if I truly hand myself over to a higher power, the necessary steps to be happy will reveal themselves. All I need to do, is take the obvious action. And it’s always obvious when you tune into yourself and allow intuition/a higher power guide you. You know what to do. What you truly need to do to get there. 

You might not like what you need to do. It may be uncomfortable; painful even. It’s not like showing up to a dance class for the first time in three years is without pain. I’m nervous. I’m scared I’m not good enough. I feel old. That’s part of the journey: facing your own inner demons and the growing pains you get from taking action. But if you follow through, you’ll get to where you want to be. To that place you truly desire. And I desire being on a dance floor. 

Life is in our hands, but for it to truly be so, you have to surrender. Surrender to not knowing. Surrender to a higher power. Surrender to faith. Then you fucking move your butt. 

Image Source: https://za.pinterest.com/pin/507780926736064341/

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Filed under diary, human spirit, life lessons, Musings, relationships, Spirituality, Thoughts, travel, Uncategorized

Shhh, don’t speak about it: mortifying humiliation and bikini shots…

I did something incredibly blonde for my birthday, which involved uploading a bikini shot to my business account on Instagram without explanation, as I fell asleep by my phone. I mean the account where I normally post poetry for my business and refuse to do the “selfie promotion” thing. That. 

You see, the day before my birthday, I went to bed late, as I was up preparing a GoFundMe campaign for my child who has PDA (pathological demand avoidance disorder, which falls under the autism spectrum and he is in desperate need of expensive treatment — you can read about it and watch my video in my birthday blog). Which was well and all, but on my birthday I was tired and got into bed around 8:30pm. But my sister was chatting to me on the phone for a long time and then I was trying to upload this video I’d made for Instagram about my fundraising efforts…and fell asleep.  

When filming the video, I thought no one would click on a blurry image of a windblown person. So I thought I’d upload an image from a birthday two years ago where I’m standing on a beach in Athens, which looks a hell of a lot nicer than the windswept me (wearing a cooking apron to boot — my late gran gave it to me and I needed a moral boost that day while cooking) of the other day. You know, using the nice pic as the first part of the story and using the video as the second part. I also thought it was brilliant as I could crack a joke about this blog being naked and all that and I wanted to link the video to the blog I wrote on my birthday about fundraising.

Now, the problem was that my video was longer than the stories permitted on Instagram. So I realised I’d uploaded a bikini pic and half a video. I immediately pressed delete, then tried uploading it as a regular post instead, so as to be able to keep the entire video — but fell asleep while it was “sending.” 

I woke up this morning to the unwelcome news that 50+ people had watched the story I’d “deleted.” 

I fretted about this for a couple of hours, then I started laughing. You see, we’ve had electricity problems for months and while the City of Cape Town has come to fix it, I think three times now, it’s still not working. As my landlords also pulled out our electric water heater, but failed to install the gas one, I don’t have hot water either.

So today, I boiled myself a pot of water to pour over my head as a “shower,” then legged it as I couldn’t blow dry my hair and my son was coming home and if he were to see me leave, he’d have a meltdown and refuse being left with the nanny. Of course, where we live in the woods, the GPS sometimes gets confused, so my Uber driver wasn’t parked by my home, but at a nearby estate. Fearing my son would make it home in time to see me, I was hiding behind a palm tree outside the neighbour’s (whose address does work on a GPS), with soaking wet hair. 

I think back to the time I walked past the lines into Hollywood nightclubs…or for that matter, standing on a beach in Athens feeling glam…and I think about hiding behind a palm tree, waiting for an Uber, sporting clothes I’d put on without buttoning up properly and soaking wet hair…and I laugh. As I was standing behind that palm tree I found everything amusing, including weird bikini shots on Instagram.  

When I recorded the video for GoFundMe, I felt like I spoke about the problems in our family openly for the first time. Putting it to words yesterday in a blog on here, even more so. It was a big step for me. And honestly, I didn’t feel I could do that until Friday, when a psychologist explained to me what’s going on. Prior to that, I’ve had so much self-blame and felt so embarrassed, that I didn’t know how to phrase it. Where do you start? With him stabbing the wall with a knife when asked to have a shower? With me holding him down and screaming on top of my lungs that he’s never going to hurt my family again? With him trying to teach his almost three-year-old brother that I’m a bitch and a cunt and…? 

Yesterday, I started seeing the comedy in it all. Now that I know the most likely diagnosis. Now that I know he doesn’t hate me, nor that he’s not psychotic, or mean. Now that I know that there’s hope for him to be the kind, loving, child that I love. Now that I know that it isn’t my fault that he’s aggressive. Now I can speak about it. 

And when you think back to all those times…him crawling on the floor in supermarkets, him turning the doctor’s waiting room upside down, him breaking the flowers at my favourite coffee shop, him swearing at random strangers… All those times I felt mortally humiliated…they are funny. The suffering he’s been through — the reason he’s behaving like this — is not funny. Nor is the damage he’s caused to people emotionally, or the amount of furniture he’s broken. But, I’m sure you can see the humour in trying to explain to some hot guy why your child just had an absolute fit in their shop. 

My former principal at drama school, Sam Kogan, used to say that when you can see things through the lens of humour, you know you are no longer affected by them emotionally. When you can crack a joke about the trauma you’ve been through, you are free. I used to think you couldn’t crack jokes about the bad things in life. That you had to take them seriously. But, by the end of the day, when you see your own ghosts and ghouls that haunt your mind as hilarious, instead of frightening, or sad, apparitions, you are, in fact, free. You are no longer dictated by them. I’m very thankful Sam taught me that.

I’m not saying I will never again be mortified by something my child does. Most likely I will. But if I can learn to let go of how society thinks he should act, if I can learn to have sympathy for his condition, instead of being frightened of what others will think, then I will be all that much stronger dealing with it. We have a long road ahead where he learns how to handle his condition and overcome the anxiety and emotional misconceptions holding him back, but there is light. There is hope. And there’s me in a bikini on Instagram. 

(Update: yesterday he had a really, really bad fit with the nanny which resulted in him taking it out on himself in the most destructive manner possible and I was mortified. Once again I didn’t know what to say to people. But I explained. And they understood. And we got help. Because it’s all quite understandable and logical once you understand his condition. Now the emergency plan is being put in place for his treatment. And thanks to friends and family donating funds, we may come out it without financial disaster.)

Image Source: https://za.pinterest.com/pin/507780926731818628/

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Filed under autism, autism spectrum, blonde, Comedy, diary, Family, Humor, Special Needs Children, Thoughts