A Book Review Amidst a Trippy Couple of Years

I wanted to review the book I mentioned yesterday, but I also need to write about what has being going on in my life that strangely seemed to appear in this book about someone I’ve never met and knew nothing about. It was like a weird Vulcan mind meld kind of connection.

I started this blog after doing some soul searching. I was on this path of yoga and meditation – self care and self help, I suppose. Searching for some direction in life – looking for those doors to open as I mentioned in my last post.

I had always wanted to be involved in music in some way. When I started down this path on this blog, I had come up with an idea to develop some sort of sanctuary for musicians and artists. It was something between a rehab center and a space for healing and creativity. Even if they didn’t need rehab but thought they were slipping, they could come for a visit.

That’s where my journey began here, and as I read this book, a rehab for musicians is where the author’s story ended. I write this knowing I will sound insane. I have felt rather insane for the past 3.5 years. I feel like I have slipped in and out of people’s experiences, taking on some aspect of the person.

Crazy? Indeed. It is what it is. I’m always looking for answers, trying to understand these connections in my head to what and who I don’t even know most of the time. And the beginning of my strange little trip over the past few years I remember reading, hearing, seeing something that said, “Do you like tall redheads?” Random, right? For some reason it stuck with me.

This book I am reviewing is about (and by) a tall redhead. In all honesty, I knew nothing about this man. I didn’t even know he was tall or redheaded. In all honesty, I probably would not have picked up the book except that he collaborates from time to time with another musician who I have followed and admired since the early the 90s.

The book is Sing Backwards and Weep by Mark Lanegan. I knew of Lanegan, but he was not someone I followed or read about other that the occasional collaborations with other musicians I liked. I own the Singles soundtrack and the movie, which I find out in this book he wasn’t particularly happy about, and I may own one Screaming Trees album.

Reading this book I sensed an overwhelming connection of sorts to what was written in this book and things I had “experienced” for lack of a better term over the past few years while I assume this book was being written. I will review the book first and then tell you about the strange set of connections.

The book is a good read, especially if you are a fan of 90s bands (the real bands, not the boy bands) and the Seattle scene that exploded and died almost as quickly as it appeared. Well, the music continued, but the coverage of it waned mostly.

I read the book in just over a couple of days, which I have not done in years. Bukowski-esque in tone and delivery. Honest in the levels of “depravity” reached, as Lanegan would call it. Drug addiction, alcohol addiction, any chemical dependency is horrific when it gets to the levels that Lanegan experienced. I applaud the directness in which he wrote of his addiction.

I also appreciated the camaraderie that was apparent among the bands and musicians of that whole scene. They supported one another — even if it wasn’t the healthiest of support systems. The sad thing is that the industry supported the drug use to a large degree. In cases, they even encouraged it.

It was disappointing, too, when a band didn’t bring in the money that was expected, the label’s interest and support failed. That is one of the other connections I felt while reading this book. I had developed the idea over the past few years of restructuring the music business, where the musicians supported one another in a more “co-op” type environment and the label was there to support the artist rather than milk him or her dry.

I digress. So, yes, the book is enjoyable in a depressing, harrowing kind of way. It gives a good view of the Seattle scene and the amount of drugs being taken and the toll that takes on a person. If you enjoy reading stories of someone surviving against insurmountable odds, then you’ll enjoy this book. If you are a music geek, you’ll also enjoy this book.

If I were to rate it, however, I would likely rate it 4 out of 5. I say this only because I felt that there was a little depth lacking on the emotional side of things. He speaks of loving his girlfriend Anna, but nothing he did or said showed that. Perhaps that’s part of the point he was making, but for me I kept looking for something a little bit further below the surface.

He stumbles over and over again with his addiction, but I didn’t feel the complete depth of the reasons behind it. What was he thinking? What was driving him to find this comfort in countless, faceless women and drugs? What were the thoughts he was trying to numb or quiet in his head? I would have liked to read a bit more of that.

I’ve always had a psychological bend in my thinking. When I think back to this “healing place for musicians” that was one of the things I wanted to focus on, not just helping them kick the habit. If you don’t know what’s driving you (beyond the chemical dependency that eventually comes from addiction), you always have the possibility of slipping back into it even after years and years of sobriety. One bad though or episode can send you reeling.

So, I suppose I was looking for a little more of that in the book. It wasn’t necessarily to make the book better. It’s simply from my own hope for people in these situations to truly heal. I also think it helps others connect a little more to the situation when they can see some deeper level of someone’s psyche or see something that maybe they’ve felt themselves. I’m not talking the childhood traumas and memories, but simply the emotions that were a result of those traumas that were making him go so close to the edge.

When a man considers shooting a needle in his dick, he’s feeling something pretty friggin’ deep. I’m just saying.

Still, I would highly recommend the book.

For the weird connections, well, maybe they’re just coincidences. I don’t know. I never know how to read things anymore. Over the past few years, there was a time when I was listening to and singing Johnny Cash songs … a lot. There are scenes in this book about Johnny Cash and how much he admired him.

I had had an overwhelming reaction to the news that Anthony Bourdain had committed suicide. I had seen a few of his shows. I enjoyed watching them and I found him entertaining. Beyond that, though, I had not further connection. I cried a great deal and felt a great loss when that news broke. So much so that although I said I was leaving my blog behind on June 7, 2018, I came back to write a post about his dying on June 8, 2018.

Turns out that this book was finished because of Bourdain’s death. Bourdain had asked Lanegan to write the forward of one his books, and he had encouraged Lanegan to finish his own book. Sing Backwards is dedicated to “Tony and all my other absent friends.”

I had had a dream about Lanegan sometime in the past couple of years. He simply faded in and out of the picture, not speaking. In an otherwise dark dream, the only color I remember is him wearing a red shirt. I heard his voice in another dream. It wouldn’t have been strange if I was a fan and followed him and read all his interviews and such. I didn’t. I didn’t even know the man had red hair.

I knew nothing about him before reading this book, and yet things I had experienced over the past few years (and honestly I can’t even remember them all now) showed up in one form or another in this book.

I had similar experiences with other people over the same time period. I would have a sudden urge to write a children’s book when someone I followed closely announced his daughter was releasing a children’s book. Within a few days I had switched gears and wanted to work in music again when this same person announced that another relative was releasing a single.

I have had dreams of people that seem so real and thought there was no way that something wasn’t going to happen or that I didn’t experience some sort of astral connection. In fact, a lot of what has been happening to me, all the connections and coincidences over the past several years I thought was something coming to fruition. I don’t know that I was accurate about that, but I have experienced a lot of connections to people I don’t know.

Lanegan and I have some similarities – more so than I would have ever expected. It’s just when he goes in one direction, I go in the other. Our paths have never crossed as far as I know, although there was a guy at a show I saw in Atlanta that stumbled and I was afraid he was going to fall. It was a show of someone I know he is friends with. He’s happily married and I’ve never had a crush on him so it’s not that kind of connection. We have no personal connection of any sort. Yet, after reading this book and remembering everything I had felt, seen or done over the past few years and the connections that kept popping up in this book, I don’t know. I don’t know what to do with the information or what to think about it.

I don’t know if I’m crazy or if I have some ability to connect to people who I don’t even know. It sounds insane, but even if it’s real, what do you do with that?

Regardless, the book is worth a read.

A little bit of love

Let’s choose a better contagion

Photo by Steve Halama on Unsplash

Well, world, what have we gotten ourselves into? This coronavirus thing has us all locked up and alone with our thoughts. Some of them ain’t pretty. I’m just going to say it. But, we may be here a while and I don’t think I can take long periods of that, so I’m going to keep this short and simple … and even a little sweet.

I started the week off with my head exploding about politics. Tonight, I cried at the news reports showing all the healthcare workers doing their thing – shining like a beacon through this mess. God bless ’em all.

I’m starting to see news of people I know personally dealing with this. An old schoolmate of mine has a daughter in ICU. A daughter. Shit. She’s on a respirator for God’s sake.

So, I took down my rants about politics. I sent my love to my old friend even though we don’t really speak anymore. And I’m getting ready to put on The Cold War – an epic romance, they say. Why? Because no matter how hard I try to convince myself love doesn’t mean anything to me, it does. And the reason it does is because that’s all there is.

Romantic love. Motherly love. Sisterly love. Spiritual love. The love of travel. The love life. The love of cold pizza. In the end, it’s all we have. It’s what our hearts can hold onto. When the body fades, the spirit still carries that into the great beyond, whatever the beyond may look like.

So, my friends, in this strange time we are living, I wish you love – whatever kind of love you need. Take care of yourself. Send love to others. We’ll get through this and maybe we’ll even be better for it.

Back from the Dead

Ok, so I haven’t actually been dead, but I’ve been buried for a little while.

Honestly, I can’t even tell you what exactly I’ve been doing or what has been going on in my life. A lot of inner turmoil. Been in the dark, cold ground for a while. Trying to figure some shit out.

I recently started a process. I bought The Artist’s Way. I came to realize I’m a shadow artist. I took the practical route to a creative life … “going into journalism or advertising.” That’s this girl, right here.

It’s been an interesting little trip so far and I’m only a week into it. What have I learned so far? Everything about me is an artist. Or at least an artist’s temperament. I have not been living an artist’s life. Thus, the meltdown you read on here for nearly a year.

There’s no light without the dark, right? Well, this little trip I’m on is opening my eyes to things. A lot of things. It’s crazy. If you are struggling in life and want to be more creative in some way, at least from my one week into it, I highly recommend getting The Artist’s Way and living with it.

I’ve been going through the process for a while, but now I know what’s happening. I didn’t know what was happening before. I just thought I was going crazy or the world was falling apart. I guess maybe it was just starting to fall into place.

I realized this morning that I didn’t have the most stable, normal childhood. So, as I grew up, I needed to give myself some stability. And I have done that, but I did it at the expense of my creativity and my joy to some degree.

So, now, I’m bringing some joy back into my life. Bringing back some of the things I love. Maybe I’ll take you on some of the journey with me on this blog. Maybe I’ll even take suggestions on things I should try next and then tell you how it goes.

But as part of this process, I’m considering writing a book. I don’t know what kind of book. I’m still ironing the details out on that. I don’t even know if it will be fiction or non-fiction or if I’ll try to do both.

I also am about ready to start teaching Pilates. I’ve finished the in-studio days. I’m a little scared of the whole idea of starting a new type of work altogether. I have to admit that. I’m still doing contract work in my current profession while I try this thing out, but still, it’s kind of scary. I don’t know why.

I don’t have a lot to say here. No profound statements at the moment. It takes some time when you come up from underground. I’m adjusting to the daylight again.

But my experience so far with The Artist’s Way has been good. Get it. Give it a try if you want more creativity in your life. It might just bring you back from the dead.

Peace, y’all.

Perspective Is Everything

I over explain myself sometimes. This is something I’ve learned about myself over the past year. I’m working on it, but I’m going to overexplain something here.

I like to think it’s my empathetic side. I can see where someone might take something I say the wrong way. This one is just as much for me, though, because honestly, I don’t know where I’m going to end up as I move through this process.

I mention several times (or I think I have) things about sitting behind a desk or a desk job. I don’t mean to belittle those types of jobs. To be honest, I have had “desk jobs” that I’ve enjoyed.

What I mean when I say this is that you have to enjoy what you are doing at that desk job. Sitting at the computer. I write sitting at a computer. I enjoy it. I don’t mind sitting at a computer for something I enjoy.

And some of it, too, is simply your attitude toward a job sitting at a desk or behind a computer. The thing I had lost track of at my last few jobs was my attitude. I didn’t like the politics or the aggressiveness or whatever about some of my more recent jobs. My life became that job, and when my job made me unhappy, I was unhappy.

I didn’t look at it as I just mentioned in my previous post. Paying my bills. There are things I have to do to have some of the things I want (like a roof and that sort of thing). Instead of simply looking at it as I’m paying my bills and I’m doing all of these other things to make me happy, I got lost in the frustration of one part of my life.

Regardless of where I end up — whether it is an office job or not — there are things that must happen in order for me to have the other things I want. Basic human things. I just have to remind myself to stay focused on the big picture.

For me, my list of things to do in the day helps me stay focused on that. I can easily see that I’m spending as much time (if not more) on things I enjoy and taking care of myself as I am on things I have to do. Just seeing that helps. So, even if I end up in an office job, the person sitting behind that computer will have a different mindset. And I have to thank the Universe for giving me this time and circumstance to understand that.

Office jobs can be great, and even if they aren’t exactly what we want, they are probably helping us get something we want. Perspective is everything. Life and happiness are choices. Choose wisely (and sorry for overexplaining).

Peace, y’all.

In Pursuit of Living

Finding happiness through how you live rather than setting goals

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I read this article about Hunter S. Thompson’s advice on finding your purpose earlier today. I like this idea very much. Live your life in a way that will make you happy, not to obtain a specific goal. The goal bends to your way of life. I think I’m getting the gist of it right. My perceptions are always a little off compared to others, so eh, maybe I’m close.

I’ve been going through this myself. The whole question of do you target a goal or ride the tides. Thompson’s idea, though, is somewhere in the middle. I always say the answer to anything is somewhere in the middle of the extremes, so that’s why this speaks to me so much.

There are things I know I want in my life. I want to do more creative things. I want to have more freedom and flexibility in my life. On the other hand, though, I want to pay my bills. I want a roof over my head.

Can I have all of that at once? Sure I can. Any of us can. But perhaps trying to set specific goals or label ourselves in some way isn’t the right path to take. Because, let’s be honest, jobs really are only labels unless they are truly who we are. I’m not a marketing manager. I’m a writer who just happened to work in a role with that title … if that makes sense.

I know I like to get up and do yoga, meditate and then take my pilates class. Yoga and meditation give me time to focus on myself, while the pilates class gets me out of the house for a bit and interacting with people. Plus, I just like to exercise. I like being physical. It makes me feel good, energized, happy. So working towards certification in this makes the goal fit the way I want to live. Is it the end game? I don’t know. Probably not. The only end game is death. Everything else is just a move on the chess board.

After my workout, I enjoy coming home to write for a bit, so that’s what I’ve been doing since I’ve “formalized” my daily routine (I mentioned it in my last post). My days are mine right now. I can do what I want and need when I want and how I want to do it.

I hadn’t planned on writing a post about this, but it made a lot of sense and I thought that others could benefit from it. So, I’m sharing it, mixed in with a little of my own experience. An experience that’s probably a lot like others’ experiences.

For me, scheduling out the things I want in my daily life helped me. That may be goal setting for some, but I kind of need checklists to focus. Otherwise, I flit about and get nothing accomplished. That’s just my way of functioning. It’s not for everyone.

My checklist though is not about reaching some end goal. Well, maybe a little it is in places, but a lot of it isn’t. I’ve made taking care of myself and doing things I enjoy priorities. They are the first things I do in the day, and then mid-afternoon when I’m at my peak business functioning (which is the opposite of most people), I take care of the business things I have to take care of. I set aside time to do the things to pay my bills, but it doesn’t rule my life.

I’ve even applied recently for jobs like dog walkers. Not because my goal is to be a dog walker, although I love animals. The particular job I applied to, though, would let me work for a few hours in the middle of the day, giving me a little structure, a little stability, and peace of mind. I need that … at least as I transition from where I am to where I’m going. It’s an active job that doesn’t require me to sit at a desk all day. The schedule gives me the flexibility to schedule my day the way I see fit. I have time for creative work, for self-care, and to “pay my bills.”

This involuntary break from a typical 9-to-5 job has allowed me to structure my day, my life, in a way that makes me happy. I would have never experienced this had I not gone through it. So, when you think sometimes life doesn’t give you what you want or need or the universe is just dead set against you, that’s probably when you are receiving what you need most.

Try to look at it from that perspective when you find yourself in the situation that makes you unhappy. It’s not easy to see, but if you can, it lifts your spirit quite a bit. Or that’s how I feel.

Sure, I could sit around and complain that I have no job, no money. Don’t get me wrong. I have my moments where I do that, too. After reading this article, though, I’m realizing right now that I’m building or living my life in a way that makes me happy. Now if I can just work the income into the mix, I would be set.

I have nothing profound or poetic to add to this philosophy of Thompson’s. I think it’s a productive way to look at your life and your purpose. Lord knows it is a hell of a lot less stressful. I hope you can take something from it.

Peace, y’all.

Rise and Fall

As quickly as I rise up, I fall down. Suddenly, I feel ordinary. It happened in a flash. Are these swings creativity or instability? Are they temperament or depression? I’m not sure I’ll ever know the answers.

There is a chasm between the two sides of my soul — between what I want and who I am. And rather than connecting the two, I suspect I will fall into the crevice someday never to be seen again.

Perhaps normality and routine are my calling. I should accept it rather than swinging across the divide, barely grasping the other side of my soul. Some day I will lose my grip.

Settle and be done.

The Stray

Is faith or knowing the best route for your journey?

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Today is a weird day. I had already written one post, went to my Pilates class and then came back home with another thought I wanted to share.

Why do I want to share? I don’t know. I give up trying to figure out what is propelling me to ramble incessantly to no one online. It’s like drinking alone, but with an audience.

Anyway, I’ve always considered myself a bit of a stray. I don’t really have a home. I do. That practical character in that other story I talked about in the last post bought a condo years ago and has lived there forever. I don’t really consider it home in some ways, though. It’s shelter. It’s not home. Does that make sense?

Don’t get me wrong. I like it. I enjoy it. I appreciate it and am grateful for it. But is it my final destination? I don’t know. I don’t know where home is. I’m not sure there is a place called home.

I think maybe home is a feeling. I’ve read that. I’m not the first to say it, but I think it is a feeling. I don’t quite have that feeling. I’ve never felt settled. Do I want to feel settled or do I prefer to be restless? I don’t even know, to be honest.

I took the photo for this post of the neighborhood cat. I don’t know if the cat actually belongs to anyone. Perhaps it does, but I don’t know. She’s always outside. Some of the homeowners put food out for her. But, she’s been here longer than those homeowners, so I’m guessing she’s just milling about because we feed her.

She’s skittish. You can tell she’s not petted often, which lends to the stray theory. I relate to this cat in ways. I think I envy the cat really. She’s just out there living. Focusing on the day, the moment she’s in. Avoiding things that need avoiding. Finding shelter in the rain. Enjoying the sun when she lays out in the parking lot, stretched as far as she can stretch. Eating the food we provide for her. She’s not worried about the future. The universe is providing to her everything she needs.

I don’t really know where I’m going with this. I felt the need to talk about this cat and how I relate to her. How I want to be like her. But how do I release that security-based creature in that other story to become the stray I think I was meant to be? How do I unlearn what I taught myself over and over again?

I don’t know. I don’t have the answers. I mean, looking at everything as an opportunity is a step in the right direction. Filling my heart with love so that I don’t fear and fret as much is a start. Be more like this cat. If the food goes away, then I move to a new neighborhood.

Is that aimless or is that faith? Is one better than the other? Right now I envy this cat. I want to be a stray.

Peace, y’all.

The Big Surrender

Re-telling our stories and finding a path without the logical mind

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Do you ever feel like you’re living someone else’s life? I never had until today. I woke up at 1:39 a.m. and I thought this isn’t my life. Who am I?

I don’t feel like an imposter. Not at all. But perhaps I’ve been listening to the stories I tell myself too much. I’ve read a lot about that over this past year. We tell ourselves things about ourselves. Good or bad, and we believe them.

I read a short little post this morning by an author I follow, and I had this epiphany of sorts. Or my mental stability went right off the tracks.

I’ve been telling myself this story all my life. That I’m practical, level-headed, grounded. Honestly, though, I’m not sure that’s who I am at all. Obviously, it is part of who I am now, but at the core of me, that is not who I am.

I’m flighty. I’m a dreamer. I am also a hopeless romantic. I became practical out of necessity. I raised myself a lot as a child. There are no bad feelings around that. It is just a fact. I’ve taken care of everything in my life on my own. Now whether that is the result of some trauma as a child or just survival instincts, I don’t know.

I’ve told myself this story until I believed it. I’ve built my life around it. On the one hand, it has grounded me. Made me responsible. I take care of myself and my bills. Those are all positive things, and I am grateful for having that. Who knows what kind of a messy life I’d be in if I hadn’t developed that side of myself.

This story, though. This practical, dependable story. It has kept me on career paths that have not made me happy. Still, I’m sort of staying on that same path now. It’s the most difficult part of this transition I’m trying to make. Can I really walk away from what I’ve known? The world I have built for myself? Can I jump out of this book that I have written for myself and start a new one?

I don’t know, but I think it’s time to give it a try. Over the past year I’ve learned there are a couple of ways to determine your path and purpose. You either know it, identify it yourself, own it and work toward it. The other option is to totally surrender to some higher being.

The practical me has always followed the first route — at least in terms of career and purpose. Know it, own it, do it. And when I didn’t know it, I pushed and pushed to identify it just to come up with a logical answer that in the end didn’t serve me.

So, I’m going to take a leap, I think. It’s the big surrender. I’m going to keep doing what I know I need to do, but I’m approaching it differently. I’m going to look at everything that comes my way — meeting a new person, hearing about a job opening, everything — as an opportunity. As a new path.

I realize this will likely take me down some wrong paths. That’s OK. I can cope with that.

As for the post that prompted this whole idea, I feel the same way the author feels about love. It is the one thing I’ve always wanted. I will break my heart 5,000 times over to find it. But, perhaps I’ve been telling myself stories there, too. Stories that I believe. Now, I need to crawl out from the pages and slip under another cover. I keep telling myself I’m not right for most people. That I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. That no one is ever going to understand me and like me for who I am, just as I am.

I think I’m pretty awesome as arrogant as that may sound. Obviously, I’m not for everyone, but I’m right for some. Some is all I need. One is all I need. Instead of focusing on the ones I’m not right for, I need to focus on the idea that I am right for others.

The other thing I’m surrendering to is who, exactly, I’m right for. I’ve never had a checklist of characteristics — physical or otherwise — that my dream guy should be. I always felt that was too limiting in the manifestation realm. I want certain things, of course, equality, freedom, respect, love, caring, understanding. Those things, of course, I want. I want positive attributes, knowing that bad things come with those. Arguments happen. It’s life. It’s not a relationship with some pitfalls and disagreements.

But, I have honed in on one thing that I’ve always wanted. I wanted someone creative. Smart. Preferably an artist, a musician or a poet/writer. Free-spirited. I think I wanted this because part of me thinks that’s who I am truly at the core of myself. I’m not this practical, grounded person. I’m overly emotional, erratic to some extent … not to stereotype creatives. But I think that’s more of who I am and that I’ve denied myself all these years. And I think that’s why I’ve looked for that in someone else because I didn’t allow myself to be that.

So, perhaps this type of person is right for me. Perhaps they aren’t. I don’t know. I’m surrendering to the Universe. The Universe will bring the right type of person to me — whatever that person may be like.

As for my career, who knows where that’s going to lead? But, I’m taking a different approach this time to everything. I’ve tried the practical, logical route to this point. It’s time to surrender to something bigger. Everything now is an opportunity. Everything could be the happiness that I’ve been seeking.

The big surrender. It’s kind of scary. I’ll admit. But it’s time, I think.

Peace, y’all.

Rump-shaking Mood Enhancement

Using dance to find your inner strength

girl in Superhero's costume

This post was going to be about the importance of shaking your booty. I love to dance. I wanted to be a dancer when I was a kid … back when I had some balance.

Dancing is cathartic. It connects you to your body and mind, as well as to your heart and spirit. Obviously, from my last post, music means a lot to me. Dancing is a way to connect to that music beyond just singing it or hearing it. You feel it.

I’m actually considering adding in at least 30 minutes or so of dancing to my routine. If not every day, at least once a week.

In addition to that connection to yourself and to music and to everything that is, dance gives you a sense of power and freedom. Or it does me. I don’t care if you’re flailing about or if you’re as graceful as a swan. My body changes when I dance. The way I hold myself. Plus, it just feels good. It makes me happy.

But today, I went to Pilates class. We had some folks in from out of town. One woman, I suspect she was in her mid-20s at the oldest, but everything about her felt so much older. She was rail thin. You could see every bone in her body. Now, this is not coming from a place of judgment so much as a place of concern. I told myself perhaps she’s ill or that’s just her body type or perhaps that’s the weight that makes her feel strong.

It was a dancer’s body in many ways. Sinewy. Birdlike. Slightly on the frail side because of the small bone structure. There is obvious strength in her body.

My concern came from her posture. She kept her head down. He shoulders slumped. Her tail was tucked underneath her. Everything about her curled into herself.

If you’ve ever seen an animal that’s been beaten and abused, that was the posture she had. It made me sad for her. Of course, I didn’t know her and I am jumping to conclusions but body language says a lot. You can tell when someone is not fully connected to their inner strength.

I wanted to give her a hug. I wanted her to hold her head up high. I suppose it’s wrong to say that. We women have it bad enough as it is. In my defense, my intention is good, even if it sounds judgmental. As someone told me on here, good intentions don’t always have good results.

To be honest, she was stronger and fitter than I am … and I’m no slouch. I was the one being corrected on my shoulder blades moving, not her. But her stance, her posture made me feel sad. I don’t normally claim this, but I sensed how she felt. Or at least I thought I did. Her demeanor made me feel like curling into myself or projecting some of what’s inside of me out to her.

And I’m shy. We’ve had this discussion. But my shyness doesn’t necessarily come off in my posture … not generally anyway. It depends on the circumstance. That’s probably why people say I seem cold and aloof. I’m quiet, but I have some strength in my posture.

But my intention was to uplift her. To give her some strength … when in reality she may not need it. It is just a perception based on body language. Let’s face it, though, our brains are wired to notice those things first and notice them more than what is said.

I wanted her to strike a Wonder Woman pose. Back straight, legs set apart, hands on hips. I stand like that more than I should. In fact, I took a ballet class earlier this year. I stood like that in class as the teacher was giving instruction. He told me my stance was aggressive. Well, I guess that’s who I am. I dropped my hands at the request of the teacher, but I didn’t go back. Nobody puts baby in the corner, I suppose.

Part of my whole thing about this mind-body connection is that we should feel stronger in our bodies. When you feel stronger — whether physically you are or not — it changes your posture. It changes your outlook. I could be entirely wrong and this woman is the strongest person in the world. I will never know that. But, her posture will never present that either. For me, that’s unfortunate. For others, it may not matter.

This, however, does bring me back to dancing. I recommend dancing for that reason. Do it in private with no one watching if that gives you your power, but find your power. Even if your power isn’t noticeable to everyone else, you will feel it. When I dance around, I feel more like Mick Jagger on stage. Or if I’m bold I try to be Baryshnikov.

It doesn’t matter how I’m dancing or how well I do it, it connects me to my strength. Even if I spin until I’m dizzy or trip over my own feet — yes, I do all of those things — I feel happier and stronger.

So get your booty on the dance floor … or the living room floor. Wherever. It’s amazing what a little rump shaking can do for your mood and your confidence.

Peace, y’all.

A Brief Hiatus

To those of you who read and occasionally comment on this blog, I want to thank you for the encouragement you have provided over the last few months after I was laid off from my job. Unfortunately, I have reached a critical stage in the process, and now I must devote as much time as possible to finding a new opportunity.

I have searched for freelance, part-time and contract work unsuccessfully, hoping to make ends meet until I earned my Pilates certification. Regretfully, that is no longer an option. I will be taking a brief hiatus from this blog until I can find a new stream of income.

I have tried my best to use this opportunity to change my life. If you find yourself in the same situation, please do the same. It is a rare opportunity to re-evaluate your life. I know now that I want to make a change, but the Universe has determined it is not quite time for me to do that. So, I will re-focus my efforts, find new work, and earn the money to pay my bills. Then I can begin my move in a new direction once again.

I pray, and honestly, I don’t pray very often, that this will be short-lived — the search. I hope to find employment soon. I hope it will be something I enjoy and perhaps even help me move toward my direction.

In the meantime, I hope you all take care of yourselves and each other. Find love for yourself and those around you. Believe you can make the world a better place even with the smallest of changes. It is possible. It truly is. I believe.

Peace, y’all … until we meet again.