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Amusing musings…

I remember when I first started this blog — I was doing yoga in Runyon Canyon and walking around looking for topics to write about as I had challenged myself to do a post a year for a year…and I did.

When I write on here I learn. It’s where I process what’s happened. The more stressed I get, or the more happy I get, the more I write. If I’m stressed I need to process what’s happened, if I’m happy I want to share my happiness with the world.

Today I was running around looking for an external hard drive for over two hours. That wasn’t fun (esp. as I didn’t find it), but it was hilarious because I kept looking in places where I’d already looked, thinking it should logically be there. Only it was totally illogical to look again, because it wasn’t there.

It made me realize that we do that a lot, don’t we? We look for things in places where we know we won’t find them. Ever had a friend who never showed up? The kind that cancelled every coffee you ever booked? Ever been in a relationship where you break up and keep getting back together? Ever had a boss who just never praised you when you did well?

These things are structures. Those people are living according to a structure where they will keep repeating a certain behavior. So why do we still go there looking for that coffee, that love, that praise? We’re looking in the wrong place!

Our looking in the wrong place is a structure too. It’s something we keep doing. And for no good reason. What we’re looking for won’t happen.

I remember that before I broke up with the guy I was with for over three years back in my twenties, I kept having a line from a play I was doing going round and round in my head: “The wonderful thing isn’t going to happen, Thorvald.” Meaning, Hedda Gabler would never be loved the way she wanted to be loved by Thorvald (at least I think it was Thorvald and Hedda this was about…I may have mixed up the character by now…but it was the play Hedda Gabler by Ibsen).

The reason that line kept going round and round in my head was because my ex would never turn around and love me the way I wanted to be loved.

This came back to me when my coach pointed out that I expect flakiness. That I think flakiness is normal in relationships, but it’s not. It’s what’s normal to me. It’s my dysfunctional structure to be around guys where the wonderful thing will never happen.

Now, sitting thinking about your past isn’t necessarily helpful — you want to be moving towards what you want to create, not away from what you don’t want to create. I’d like to create intimacy. To me intimacy is a big scary thing as I’ve hidden in clouds of aloofness to protect myself from flakiness, but it’s what I’d love. What I’d truly love to create.

I’m obsessing about structure lately, have you noticed? Because I had some big epiphany that your entire life is built around structure. You put the right structures in place, you can do anything.

It’s like building a house: for the house to do what you want it to, you need a foundation, the proper pipes, the right electrical wiring, etc. If you don’t put structures in place, the house collapses on you, or things don’t work as they should, or keep breaking.

If you think about your exercise regime, your daily schedule, the way you plan your week, how you organize your wardrobe, etc. it’s all structures. There are also mental patterns that are structures, like the way you view situations, people, etc. and therefore react to them.

Writing this blog I was also reminded of that year when I wrote a blog a day and doing yoga and running in Runyon Canyon. It was a structure. One that I loved at that time. Challenges work for me because I thrive on them. So I think I need to make a few more challenges now. Challenge myself to put a few new structures in place.

I’ve been grumpy (and exhausted) for like a week due to the fact that I raise one kid with behavioral issues and I have to wait for him to do a program before he can start school again and having him at home all day long is driving me up the walls. Because I’ve felt like I can’t put structures in place. But I can. And I will.

I’d also like to run into someone who’d hug me for an hour. The past few months have been challenging with his issues and the schools. I’ve met so many wonderful people through this who’ve told me I’m a special soul who is doing an amazing job (incredible given how grumpy I’ve felt but considering his behavioral patterns I’m possibly a saint after all). It’s hard to reignite your own flame constantly, but compared to how much better I am at it now than a year ago, I’m well pleased with myself.

Now I’m off to look for more work, it’s an exciting Friday night…

Oh no, wait, I’m supposed to put a sexual metaphor in here as is the style of this blog…but I’m too tired…no, I can’t say that. It would be like totally rude if I said that to guy. Uhm…feed me chocolate, pour me wine and massage my feet till I fall asleep we have sex. Or just take me to Runyon Canyon and let me feel the desert wind blowing through my hair again as I run in the sun.

Dizzy blonde, over and out.

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Magical moments and painting with caramel sauce…

It was maybe three years ago I was having a conversation with my best friend about death: what would we do if one of us died? Like how do you handle the death of the person that’s been the closest to you for an odd twenty years?

I didn’t have the answer. She didn’t have the answer. All I’ve really thought about when it comes to life and death is that you have to fill your life with as much love as possible. Some people are special — we don’t have a magical connection with everyone, but out of billions of people, there are several whom we can create great friendships with.

People die, love doesn’t. There is so much magic to be experienced in life with so many people. Sometimes all we have to do is open the door. Open the door to the possibility that someone might be magic. Open the door to our heart. Open the door to the beauty around us.

This conversation together with my constant traveling suddenly made me very aware of what I’ve often taken for granted. Like spending time with my best friend. In the past I just used to fall into the familiar feeling of being around her, now I’m aware that our time together is limited — not least because we live in different parts of the world.

Your experience shifts when you realize time is limited. It’s like suddenly you enjoy things more. You savor the moment in an entirely different way.

The other day, as a Facebook acquaintance posted about his son’s sudden death, I was reminded of this once more. That time is limited. That we really need to indulge in the moment and appreciate the people in our lives as we never know if it’s the last time we see them.

It also hit me that time with ourselves is limited. We make a point out of appreciating the time we spend with other people, but do we make a time to appreciate the time we spend with ourselves?  Do we take care of ourselves, love ourselves, indulge in the things that make us feel good? Like do you appreciate your own talents, your own sense of humor, the little things that make you, you? It’s great when others appreciate us for those things — don’t we all love hearing what makes us special — but how about appreciating that ourselves? Even if our soul is immortal, our current incarnation is not.

Fill your life with the good stuff. I was telling a friend the other day that I’ve filled my house with important stuff — like poetry, wine, art, herbs, cooking utensils, laughter and love. It makes me feel at home, because it’s the things I treasure and I want my surroundings to be a reflection of what I love. That way I get to live the magic every single day.

Of course I also have to do what I love. I write the poetry that paint my walls, I make the charcoal drawings that fill this house. I live. Even if only three people read my poems, and five people saw my art, I know I lived that poetic/artistic moment.

This house is alive with who I am. And last week I even bought a bed for my bedroom so now I can fall asleep dreaming beautiful dreams too…

Slowly, slowly we can piece our magic together, but even while we are doing it, we can live. We can create beautiful moments before “everything’s ready.” Before we are famous. Before we are rich. Before anyone else sees, or appreciates our art.

Recently life’s felt like a whirlwind blowing in the right direction. Like climbing a steep mountain to get to the top. It’s been good, but very challenging. And at night I’ve been exhausted, but I’ve lit my candles, poured a glass of red and turned on the stove to let my troubles bubble away in caramel sauce. Because I love baking. I love the scent of caramel. I love feeling like this is my home and I’m creating magic. Even in the midst of the storm, just as I said in a previous blog.

There are times when I fail and I freak out about everything at once — then slowly I bring my attention back to what’s working, to what is slowly changing thanks to the structures I’m putting in place and to what is possible. I turn on the stove and mix whatever spices draw me to them that day, write a poem, or paint a charcoal painting. I live. If so just a little bit. And a spark of magic is created…a spark that sooner or later starts a fire.

Magic. Create it.

Love. Love as much as you can. Life is short and wonderful people are magical and beautiful and utterly tremedously amazing.

Live the small moments. Create magic in everyday life. And run off to Paris or with the circus as often as possible…

“Sometimes a kind of glory lights up the mind of a man. It happens to nearly everyone. You can feel it growing or preparing like a fuse burning toward dynamite. It is a feeling in the stomach, a delight of the nerves, of the forearms. The skin tastes the air, and every deep-drawn breath is sweet. Its beginning has the pleasure of a great stretching yawn; it flashes in the brain and the whole world glows outside your eyes. A man may have lived all of his life in the gray, and the land and trees of him dark and somber. The events, even the important ones, may have trooped by faceless and pale. And then -the glory- so that a cricket song sweetens his ears, the smell of the earth rises chanting to his nose, and dappling light under a tree blesses his eyes. Then a man pours outward, a torrent of him, and yet he is not diminished. And I guess a man’s importance in the world can be measured by the quality and number of his glories. It is a lonely thing but it relates us to the world. It is the mother of all creativeness, and it sets each man separate from all other men. ” – John Steinbeck, East of Eden

So there you are. Now go paint someone with caramel, or chocolate sauce, or something. Make it good. Make it magical.

Dizzy blonde, over and out.

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Candle magic in the storm…

Do you ever wait for the perfect moment? A better home? A nicer car? And in the meantime neglect to make the most out of your current situation?

I used to be like that. I’d draw plans for a castle while living in a shack type thing. Instead of turning the shack into a castle I was waiting. Because it was just temporarily I was living there.

A lot of the things in my life were temporary. I was waiting for that magic moment when I had money, when I had visas, when I could settle, when I was doing what I love all day long… Then one morning about a year and a half ago I woke up and decided it was time to live life, no matter what.

So with no money I came up with things to do with the kids. I started writing poetry again. Happy poetry. I drew charcoal drawings again. I did everything I could to live, even if I couldn’t live exactly as I wanted.

Then it felt like life tested me. I got stuck in Europe with no visa. I was miserable being away from the kids. I was panicky. I’d wake up screaming in the night. But I realized that I had to find joy anyway. No matter what life presented me with. I had to enjoy the moment and put the panic and fear aside. And for the first time in years I took time to make new friends. To create a social life, even if I was just there temporarily. And I had fun. I still struggled with being away from the kids, but I created joy anyway. Because that’s the kind of person I want to be — I kept thinking if there was one thing I could teach people it would be that. To create joy and love, even when life gives you lemons. Because life will, in some way or another, always throw screwballs.

I came back to SA with a new visa plan, a great lawyer, more opportunities, but I’ve still battled. I found my dream home, but I had to live on a blow up mattress on the floor for six weeks as they did repairs (and it’s still raining in), the neighbor was loco, the furniture I ordered custom made grew mold, I finally had the kids but one of them has such severe issues my every day was taken up trying to sort him out and my work went out the window as I was running around to doctors, therapists, schools and golly knows what and the donkeys and still came home to tantrums, fights and nightmares. I couldn’t have babysitters, because they couldn’t handle him. I was never alone and I was losing my mind. But slowly things got better. Slowly my house became my home. Slowly my kid started finding his feet again. Slowly.

In the midst of the mania I decided to light candles. I was so run down — there were times I didn’t have time to shower for four days, because with a toddler and one kid throwing tantrums I couldn’t leave them alone. And at night I was so tired I just toppled over. But every night I lit candles. Even if it was only ten minutes to myself, I had ten minutes of calm and beauty. The kids asleep and only me and the candles.

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A rare shot of myself on this blog…came across this photo a few days ago and found it apt for this blog… 

Now I’m thinking I must do the same in the morning. Establish a routine that serves me. A routine that makes me feel happy.

Slowly I’m putting structures in place. Slowly my life is becoming a happy place to be. Even when it rains. Because I keep looking for the poetry. I keep looking for ways to make things work with the resources I have. And I try to be patient, because some things, like Magique have taken forever to sort out in the midst of the chaos. But for that too, I’ve put structures in place. I’ve hired people to ensure I sort out the things I’ve done wrong in the past. I’ve taken charge to put structures in place, both in my personal and professional life. And slowly we will get there.

I feel alive, because I have the sense that I’m finally living. I’m not waiting for some magic moment when I’ll receive an Oscar (though that’d be great), or Magique will be raining money on my head, or I’ll have fifty million to make a movie and decorate my home. I’m simply using my resources to create magic. In the now. And putting supporting structures in place. In the now. Because there’s so much beauty and I want to experience it. Right now.

It’s time to light a candle and crack on with today’s workload. A very happy me actually has some time to work.

Dizzy blonde, over and out.

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A letter of no sense…

Dear So and So,

It is a great belief of mine that at least half of life is made up. We read novels set in other times and what people’s days and thoughts circled around were very different from those of modern times. There was a time when it was thought that you were born into a certain position in life and that is where you should stay. Today, it is people’s belief that you make your own fortune, yet, it cannot be objected that we are all born into a certain position in life; a position where we are surrounded by different people and events who influence our thoughts and, in turn, behavior. These influences often lead us to either make our own fortune or create our own misfortune. We believe ourselves to have free will and be dictated by all we know at the same time. We judge current situations based on past ones and we are often deluded as we do so. And at any one time we are biased by our own longings and desires, friendships and enemies.

Unless we use intuition to base our decisions upon, we are basing them on past experiences, or DNA (biology), whether consciously, or unconsciously. Mentalists have a rather fun time with this as they use common triggers to play with our minds. But even when another human is not controlling our mind, other influences likely are.

We may have free will, but can we use it?

It always perplexed me how a person could live but one meter from someone else, yet have a completely different experience of life. It is no secret that people tend to fall into patterns and suffer, or rejoice in the same victories and failures over and over again. Ones very different from their neighbor, yet it must be possible to experience something else if one just chooses to change. If one engages one’s will and opens one’s eyes, but does that require a trigger? An outside fctor? A manipulation, again, of one’s mind?

To break free from the influence of your past and believe that your life can be entirely different from what it has been is, indeed, quite remarkable. I do believe it to be true though. However, it requires that you distrust your own mind. That you silence the voice inside before you act. Before you make decisions. Before you judge the person in front of you. To survive we have to make assumptions on which we act, but we do well in being aware that our assumptions, our view of the world and, consequently, that the decisions we form, may not be true. In the same instant we do well in quieting our own ego, because the ego will insist that we are right and make us feel jolly ashamed if we are not. Once the ego has been silenced, there is only curiosity left. A curiosity to truly find out what is happening.

Looking back in time there are some things that are, of course, very much like they are today. People appear as led astray by their egos as always. What people think of them matters. Their pursuits are often egotistical. And when their ego is broken they try to break others, or simply control them by gaining their like, somehow else feel valued, overpower them, or degrade them. We love people who love us and dislike us when they do not.

People condemn what they do not feel part of. Different religions have ruled lives for centuries, one often condemning another. Yet looking back it all seems a rather big folly. Everyone is judging everyone who doesn’t think like them a hedonist. This fury in turn is transfered to politics, which affects re day-to-day lives a great deal more. Yet in  few years time, the tides will have turned again. Not unlike people fallin into attraction and realizing it had nothing to do with love; sentiments change unless they’re founded in true respect.

Maybe the most bewildering thing about life is that no one knows much at all. Atoms came together to form life. We’re all stardust. But how did it start, why did it start, what is our purpose, if any, and can something have existed forever? Who knows. Not I.

I believe though, when we always search for the good in life and the good in a situation, life, quite drastically, changes.

Yours Truly, etc.,

M

P.S. I happened to read a Jane Austen novel. I was then siezed by the desire to write a letter as I saw a pen and paper in front of me, but didn’t know whom to pen it for, so I wrote a blog instead. Hence why the writing style is partially different from the rest of my blogs. I may also have been inspired by a certain Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind, my coach and The Four Agreements. My free will might not have been entirely free.

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Anyone ever been led astray from the heart by desire?

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A little bit of miracles and sex appeal…

The other day I met a former racing driver. He’d retired from that career at age thirty-three. He had procured two masters and worked as head of sales for some corporation. Then the crisis hit Greece and he was over-qualified for most jobs as they couldn’t afford him. He became unemployed for two years. Then he decided he’d had his time moping, signed up for Uber and became a driver once more. As sales and marketing is his thing he keeps popcorn, crisps, the lot in his car on Saturdays to treat his clients.

If I’d owned a corporation I’d hired him for sales right there.

A few days ago when out shopping food I stopped in the street when I saw a kitten. As I kneeled down, the kitten ran up to me and jumped into my lap. Consequently I was sat there for twenty minutes with a cuddly kitten in my lap. The kitten was quite big – I’d guess a couple of months old – but he had a cold and winter is coming.

This kitten was adorable. It stood on its back legs to be able to “kiss” my neck, it played with my hands, it curled up in my lap, purred and sneezed. I was at the point where I was ready to adopt a kitten which I was dreadfully allergic to, just to ensure it wouldn’t die from a cold.

Just then a man came. He’d passed by earlier, carrying stuff from Royal Canin. I could see a cat carrier and some food. He told me that I was holding the kitten he’d been looking for; he’d take it to his mother’s place in the countryside when going there as she looked after a large number of cats.

As I left the kitten to its fate I was happy because I knew it’d be cared for. I was sad because there was another kitten sneezing in the street too.

Life is filled with good and bad. The people with sex appeal do something about the bad, but focus on the good. They see the miracles and fight the hardships. They enjoy each precious smile and laugh; they live for the good things, because they believe time on Earth is precious and they deserve to enjoy their lives. They unapologetically go for what they enjoy in life. But they also stand up to the bad. They have a spine. Courage. And an incrediblly sexy desire to live life to the full.

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I might be bad, but I’m perfectly good at it… (a.k.a. the tiger inside)

As faithful readers will know I’ve kept this blog dormant for a while. Why? Apart from a lack of time, I got scared. I got scared of perception. You see, I have a knack for Carrie Bradshaw (OK, Samantha) style headlines (sexual metaphors) and the sense of humor to go with it. A lot of people enjoyed that with my writing, others got confused and thought my life was all about sex, when in reality I was usually working or, you know, cleaning up the house after the kids. The sex was in the headlines, metaphors and jokes. In other words: it was for entertainment purposes, not a reflection of my life, though I may at times vent my opinions surrounding the topic of sex.

Other people got offended by the headlines and the metaphors; people who view sex in an entirely different way than I do. I have had men touch me up and give me indecent proposals over the years when traveling the world, so trust me, I know that not all associations with sex are pleasant. Yet, I’ve been spared from the really bad stuff and for that I’m grateful and I’m very happy about the current #metoo campaign because awareness is important, but Confessions isn’t about sexual abuse. It’s about playfulness and having a twinkle in the eye.

With sex some people also think that because you speak about sex you have no morals. To me morals are about honesty, ethics, etc. and I have been acused more than once of being stuck up with my morals as I won’t cut corners, but I can write a joke about Jesus and threesomes without feeling the least bad about it. It’s a joke. I’m not degrading the teachings of Jesus, I’m cracking a joke. Likewise, cracking a joke about a toe is one thing, a vagina another, apparently. Yet, why is a part of our body taboo?

Here’s a not so big secret for you: I was the most inhibitied person as a child. I was so shy I didn’t speak unless spoken to. I was scared of what people thought of me no matter what I did (usually they were only thinking of themselves, of course) and I fought like a tiger to break free of my self-imposed prison (or well it wasn’t entirely self-imposed, it arose as a result of mental abuse, where my reaction was to create a prison to keep the bad out, but also keep the good in so no one could take it away from me; no one could bully me for the real me if I didn’t show it). Not being able to be yourself out of fear is hell. Truly. I want everyone to be able to break free and I want to talk about the shit people consider taboo. Because not having the confidence to be you makes for a nightmarish life. And usually one filled with resentment as you will resent people if you think they’ll judge you for who you are.

When it comes to this blog, some people also fell in love with my writing and didn’t realize that my writing is like 3% of who I am. Sure, I’m very honest in my blogs, but it’s still a very small part of my life and I didn’t necessarily like some of the attentions I got. Nor did I like when people read something and completely misunderstood it. It was very annoying to have my thoughts turned upside down. Whatever you say truly can be turned against you.

Then there were the people who said I degraded myself by having this blog. I, an intellectual, goody-good girl who works with children and charity, couldn’t possibly put my reputation on the line by writing about sex. And of course, I didn’t want people to get the wrong idea. As I want to adopt kids, this scared me maybe more than anything else.

Lastly, there was me. While I loved expressing myself and loved hearing the comments I got about how my blog helped and inspired people over the years, I also knew that some of the headlines I came up with were taking things too far. I got numb. You do after writing over 900 posts, of which more than half have some sort of sexual connotation. I mean I can make anything sound like sex, trust me. Really. Give me something to talk about and I’ll turn it into a sexual metaphor, which usually cracks me up, but there is a point when you take it too far simply because you want to sell something. You want to come up with something more sensational just to get the views. Your ego is now running the show, not your twinkle in the eye, or sense of humor.

Of course, as you can see, there was more ego in the mix, because I was thinking about what people were thinking about me. Cue my childhood.

Ego is a bitch. Seriously.

Now my point, dear readers (as you know, it always comes…eventually), is that I miss this blog. I miss it terribly. It was the place where I used to gather my thoughts and laugh till I cried over my own jokes (I know, I know…). So if Caitlyn Moran and Bridget Jones can talk sex and swear like true Londoners, then so can I.  It’s OK to be me, so long as it comes from the heart, not the ego.

And the moral lesson, or deep insight that I so love to share in my blogs? Today, well, today I was thinking that there is no greater strength than openness, vulnerability and honesty. It’s the only way of getting what we want, because we can only get what we want when we are true to ourselves. Just as I have to be sure not to use sexual metaphors and stilettoes as shields (esp. in my love life), we all have to make sure we open our hearts. Otherwise, first of all we attract the shield (ego), not our heart. Secondly, when we wear armor, we trap all the bad things inside as well. Face the hurt and let it go. Face the joy and allow it to fly, or it will only be you holding onto memories and not living in the present.

When our life is a reflection of who we are, we know we are living from the heart. Letting go of the shield to get us there is sometimes painful, but I do believe it’s worth it.

Right, that’s it. Confessions is back. (And for those who are wondering: yes, I made a lot of old posts private because…well “up the ass” was maybe not one of my finer headlines…but I will keep my Carrie Bradshaw jokes about the subject, as seen in the humor section. The Jesus jokes too.)

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