Find your happy

 Some days are grumpy days.  You are exhausted or angry or hangry or grumpy just for the sake of being grumpy.  Today, I am grumpy just for the sake of being grumpy.   My legs are tired and heavy, my shoulder hurts, and I could cry except I am not sure why I am crying. GRUMP CITY.  When I get like this, I need to find my happy. My dear friend from an old job used to say that to me.  Go find your happy.  It's sound advice.  Here's my list for finding the happy quickly:

~Clean sheets and PJs.  This is not negotiable.   Nothing is potentially more heavenly then crawling into bed for the first time with everything fresh and new.   Check.  I did this yesterday.

~Snuggles with cats.  I am very specific about this.  I don't necessarily want to be climbed on. My 13-17 pound cat is all about the climbing when  I just want  to  BE. That being said, I live for times we all crawl into bed together, and everyone is STILL. 

~A favorite TV show.   I have shows that feel so comfortable because I know them so well, they feel,  like catching up with an old friend.  Falcon Crest is one of those shows for me now. (taking it back real old school).  It's been with me off and on for the better part of 40 years.  Dallas and Knots Landing make this list sometimes as well. It's possible that I am still really in love with 80's nighttime soaps.

~Clean dishes and house.  It starts wearing on me if  dishes are piled in the sink, or if there a little too much dust, or if the house needs a really good deep cleaning.  Since I am home about 90% of the time, it's important be in a safe, reasonably clean house. Bonus points for a freshly mopped floor.

~Edibles.   I love to pop an edible and relax with my shows or a movie. It's not like in my drinking when I was a super happy drunk until I wasn't.  It's hard to be unhappy with a good edible. They have saved many a long day.  

~Yoga.  It can be hard as fuck sometimes to motivate, but I find when I am the most irritable, even a few minutes on the mat will lift my mood.  I cannot recommend Yoga with Adriene enough.  

~Lights. I have twinkle lights in the living room.  In my bedroom, I have three non-burning candles, a diffuser light, a bedside table lamp, and a salt diffuser.   It's so cozy when they are all all turned on. Pretty lights make me very happy.

~Incense.   A fresh-smelling house can solve at least 98%  of life's problems.

~Cooking.   I am joined at the hip to my instant pot.   I get so focused on chopping and mixing that I can block everything else out.  Bonus points for rollibg things in flour or corn meal.   CATHARTIC.

~Journals.  I have a collection.  It helps even when I don't think I have anything to say.

~Cozy socks and a blanket when it's cold outside.  Enough said.

~Combed hair.  It's the same feeling as having a clean house.  I feel much  better when everything, including my hair, is in its proper place.

~Fresh, warm towels from the dryer.  Delightful.

~Friends.  Many a grumpy mood has been erased by belly laughs with good people.

~Acknowledgement. Sometimes, all I need is to say the feeling to myself and give myself permission to feel it.   

What helps you find your happy?

A gift to myself

This week, I have been working through the concept of "Creativity is god's gift to us. Using our creativity is our gift back to god."

I call bullshit.  Creativity is really our gift to ourselves.

Creativity forces us to be present, listening and observing with an open heart and mind.  This is where the real magic happens.  When we have those "epiphany" moments, we try to describe it with our art.  Art is the expression of these feelings. I know as I am working to use my creativity, I see things differently. That's the real gift.  "God" doesn't need my gift.  I need it.  That idea was very liberating to me as I sat and wrote it all out in my journal.

I have been working through The Artist's Way.  I am enjoying the process. One of the center points of the program is "god", but the author is clear from the beginning a belief in god is not necessary to work the program.   On page 3 with the basic principles, I immediately crossed out all mentions of "god" and replaced with "universe" or "goddess".  I read them aloud to myself like that.  How amazing. As I have learned to question and be more confident, using something other than "god" is a tool to learn more about myself.  

I talked to a new person this week.  She is a gay Republican Trump supporter christian.  Other than the gay part, this would seem like the very last person I could have a meaningful conversation. It was quite the opposite.  There was no judgement-- just listening and sharing each other's views and learning. I said to her I believe we probably have a lot more in common than we have different. We just have different journeys and different perspectives.

She said to me at one point "You're a believer, right?" I immediately took a deep breath and answered "No".   She then quoted scripture that when god puts his hand on us, no one can remove it, even ourselves.  She believes someday I will come back to god.

I really thought a lot about it this week.  On the one hand, a huge piece of me bristles with this kind of teaching.  She was nice and warm and welcoming, but there is still this idea that I will need to change something about myself.  It's the same old religious bullshit I have heard all my life. I think it came from a place of sincerity so I am not going to be offended by it.  Instead, I used it as an opportunity to explore and put my thoughts down on paper.

Not that I won't  change and grow as I age because with age comes experience and wisdom, but I never see myself going back to "god".   Certainly not the "god"  I was raised to know.  I believe "god" exists in the universe as the energy life-source. I use "goddess" because I believe in the feminine nurturer but also the ass-kicker when shit needs to get done. I can say there is something out there bigger and more expansive than me, but I believe it is energy, constantly moving and evolving.  I don't need the label of "god" to be in awe of this life and the power existing in this life-source.  

The leftover part of my life from the church days is the need to pray when things are going south.  There are many times--- certainly less now than when I was younger-- I just need to believe there is something that can take care of it when I can't do it myself. I think a lot about this because it seems hypocritical to me to pray when I don't believe in a "god".  I do, however, believe in the power of  the spoken word. It creates energy and movement. Ths is how prayer has evolved in my life. I need to be able to know I can take care of myself . Saying it out loud gives it a face, and that is what I need when I have hit a road block.

I am grateful I am using creativity as a gift to myself.  I am working to be confident enough to call myself an artist. I am important enough for this gift.  Using my life and talents is as much a gift to me as it is to anyone else.  It's when I am fulfilled with myself that I am really able to give back.

This journey is long and short and beautiful and ugly and frustrating and wonderful. About 89% of the time, I can say I have this and really mean it.  If I keep using the energy of the universe to propel me forward, I will be just fine.

morning

first light

cat paws

plant

books

journals

colors

pens

dishes

water

black coffee

phone

floor dirt

melodic refrigerator

grey

laundry remains

twirling fan

blankets

cannibas

ease

yoga 

photos

uncombed hair

peanut butter

clock

broken statue

memories

art

chakras

love

heroes

muffin tins

empty vase

unfinished projects

flower pattern

messy

pillows

paper bags

windows

dust

movement

 bottles

prayer candles

ashes

magic

wind

skulls

teapot

heirlooms

twinkle lights

buddah

One Big Puzzle

I am sitting with a cup of my morning Earl Grey tea and added a new journal to the rotation.  It's called "Life is Short.  Buy the Shoes".  It was given to me years ago by a lovely friend.  It exactly fits where I am in life right now. I love those moments when I find something that exactly fits.

I have big goals for today that include just being. I plan to not stay in my bed and watch Netflix all day (that's tomorrow's goal). I am on my couch, and I have been journaling and writing.   I've already done some yoga, and I will definitely attack Netflix later with a vengeance   I am going to try out a new recipe in my Instant Pot for an enchilada casserole.   I have to venture out for some cat litter. My stack of books  and water is at the ready. 

My default is to stay in bed and watch TV and end up sleeping a huge chunk of the day away.  Most days, this is not even because I am depressed, but because I really like it.   The cats and I will curl up,  I will have edibles, and the day is glorious.  I don't think there is anything at all wrong with this. I do think, however,  it is important to occasionally switch it up which is why I am taking the day to shift my scenery.

I like the routine I have developed during the pandemic.   Mondays and Tuesdays are my movie night with my platonic life partner.  Wednesdays are trashy soap opera FaceTime nights with two of my other platonic life partners.   Thursdays are movie night or traveling down south to spend time with the rest of "my bubble".  I really look forward to the nights of cocktails and pizza and discussing religion and/or politics until even I am surprised I have stayed up that late  Fridays are open.  Saturdays are stay in bed days.  Sundays are productive days:  Cooking, cleaning, putting shit together around the house, socializing, and more FaceTime with the boys.  This routine is so solid, and I look forward to all of these days.

I have never really been a girl with a routine for anything other than school and work and shows.  My personal life has always been fly by the seat of my pants.  I like that spontaneity, but I also realize a lot of this was because I wasn't confident enough to find a routine I liked and stick with it.  I was waiting for that perfect thing that would come along every day that would fill me up. I still find myself doing that a lot of days, but less days are like this.  Sometimes, less is okay.

When I started working from home in 2008, I was living in my parent's house by myself. I first started toying with this idea of  a routine.  I would get up and have my morning tea and read and journal and work my through TV shows that I loved.  When I stopped working from home at that time, I very easily went back to flying by the seat of my pants. I have spent a lot of my life floundering or rushing from place to place rather than taking the time to really enjoy the moment.

I am going on 4 years now of working from home again, and the pandemic has really brought those routines back.  The morning routine is usually some variation of the same:  I get up, great my hungry cats with some sarcastic comment, pee, feed the hungry cats, do yoga, heat up water for tea or coffee, make breakfast (or order Door Dash which even I will admit has gotten to be a bad habit), fill up my water bottle, turn on all the mood lights, sometimes fill up the diffuser, take my medicine, and settle in for work. Some days, it changes a little where I may not do yoga, or I may shower.   It's having the things I know I do in the mornings that bring comfort and joy to me and brings me much less anxiety.

I am really trying to work on an evening ritual. This a real struggle because when the day is winding down, I want to collapse in my cozy bed.  I am trying to add reading here and yoga and some journaling   It's hard, but I am officially working in it. 

Notice even though I have a lot of things plotted out, there's also a lot of room for flexibility in my schedule.  I can still fly by the seat of my pants if I desire.   It's trying to figure out how all these things fit together, like pieces of a big puzzle, that I find brings the most stability to my life and really gives me the opportunities to delve in and establish a solid personal relationship with myself.

I have spent a lot of years trying to have those personal relationships with god or with other people.  I still think human connections are vital.  I am pretty fortunate to have a lot of fun and quirky and caring people on this journey with me. The relationship with god not so much.  All that energy I have spent trying to connect with other things I am now spending in connecting with myself.  It's fabulous, and I found I really, really enjoy myself.  The world has opened way up. The more I learn about myself, the more I realize I am capable of doing anything I set my mind to do.  Example:   A few weekends ago, I wanted to put a bookshelf together.  I have never, ever seen this as a strength so I have avoided buying anything I have to assemble or I convince someone else to do it for me.    I made up my mind I was gonna do this one myself.  And I did. I still need to put the little plastic things on to cover the screws so it looks nice and pretty, but it's up and functional, and I did it BY MYSELF.   It was liberating.

I have found I can have all the things:  I can have my routine, I can have my work, I can have my friends, I can have my cats,  I can have my TV shows and be really happy and content. It's all a balancing act every day, I am always working at finding that balance.  Like working out a big puzzle.  I pat myself on the back when I find that big piece that has been staring at me all along.  

I don't have it all figured out yet, but figuring it out is part of the fun.

When the Rain Starts Falling

 I love everything about a good storm especially I don't have to go outside.

I love sitting in the house and listening to the rain hitting the windows. I love the wind screaming from the heavens.   I even love the downed tree branches as ling as they don't do any real damage. I feel safe and protected inside in my cozy little house, knowing the rain is going to stay out there. I can just sit back and enjoy it.

Being from the south, I am used to A LOT of storms.  When I was a kid, tornado season would freak me the fuck out. I would spend all day watching the Weather Channel and track storms as they moved across the country. I would wait for that tornado watch or warning.  I would be so scared when I heard the sirens start blaring.   I still get a little nervous now anytime the sirens go off even if I know they are just being tested. That being said, I lived in a world where nothing bad could ever happen to me (the good old days) so I really don't think I was THAT scared. I think a lot of it was liked the excitement.  Now that I have gotten older, I would give anything for a good storm chase. I say that NOW.  Seriously, I do miss a good storm. We don't get so many of those in California, so I am always thankful when they come my way.

I find the rain and wind unbelievably cozy. I have a stack of things I like to do to celebrate this coziness.  Here is my list:

*Bundling up in my coziest clothes.  Today, it's my RBG SUPER DIVA sweatshirt, my Gap sweatpants which are too big, my new sleep sweater from Torrid (Trust me on this, everyone needs a good sleep sweater), warm socks, and frizzy hair pulled back with a bedazzled clip.  Everything on my person right now is super cozy.

*A cat (s).   The rain and wind were made for cats. I find nothing better than a good feline snuggle buddy at times like this.  I have an enormous black fluff ball at my side right now.

*Low lights.  Today, I turned on my LED candles, my diffuser with soft green light, and the fairy light in my living room.  When I settle in to watch TV later, every light in the living room is going OFF.

*A good book (s).   I am not sure that I will get to my stack today, but I have them out just in case.

*Blankets.   These are essential.  Today, I am piled up with the cat blanket, a beautiful pink furry one, a blue one that was a gift from work, and I am a hot second from wrapping all the way up in my Star Wars blanket.

*Warm tea and/or coffee.  French roast was on the menu for this morning. 

*Movies and TV shows.  In particular, Falcon Crest "Stormy Weather" is a favorite.  I plan to put this on later as I am settling in my bed for the night. If I had planned this out better, I would have spent the day watching Harry Potter.

*Waking up in the middle of the night or early in the morning and listening to the rain hit the windows.  Today, the wind sounded SO ANGRY, and I loved everything about it.  I especially love it when I know I don't have anywhere to be.

*Soup.  Today's menu:  Tortellini and mushroom soup made in the Instant Pot.  HEAVEN.

Talk to me, world.  What are some things that make you happy and cozy during the rain?

Happy Wednesday!

We only have 2.5 more days of Donald Trump's presidency, or how I became an atheist

I never planned to leave the church

I never planned to be an agnostic.

I never planned to be an atheist.

then life happened.

My break from the church was actually pretty anti-climactic although it was a process .No real planning.   When I moved to California, I knew I wanted something different from how I grew up.  I half-heartedly went to a few churches, but realized I didn't just want something different. I didn't want anything at all. I was okay with that.

Although didn't plan to leave the church, I can think of three very specific things that lead to my eventual exodus: Being terribly hurt and disappointed by a leader in the church, the death of my mother, and the suicide of a then friend's brother.  I started to question and look at things and think that everything just did not add up. The whole process took about 5 years. I am still working through it some days.  At first, I didn't feel the need to put a label on it.   I was okay with being agnostic.   I am much more willing to call myself an atheist now, and I think that just has to do with time and life experience. I am just at peace with my life now in a way I have never been.  That doesn't all have to do with church, but a good portion of it does.

I was never sad about it.  I never missed it. I never wanted to go back.  I just felt this overwhelming peace and an eventual realization that I could be whoever I wanted to be.  I was able to figure out who the hell I was, and what motivated me.  I had opinions, and I was not afraid to share them. I found myself, and I just would not trade that 

I have also accumulated a great number of amazing friends over the years since I have left (and still a few friends left from the old days). Friends who text me just to tell me they love me.   Friends who text me not to panic that Betty White is trending because it's her birthday.  Friends who talk politics  and religion with me and drink wine until the wee hours (I now consider anything past 10 pm "the wee hours"). Friends who share my love for a good 80's soap operas.  Friends who understand the importance of watching Keeping up with the Kardashians. Friends who bring me the non-dairy ice cream bars  we both like. 

Many of these people I may have never met if I had stayed in that narrow, rigid world.  

Even though I never regretted for an instant leaving the church, I will admit that organized religion does strike a tense cord in me.  I have spent hours talking about this at nauseam with my friends.  Now that I am on the other side, it seems to be that it should be so clear.  To be perfectly honest, that's pretty judgmental of me.  I have never really been able to strike that balance between realizing that every "christian" is not how I was raised and just immediately be turned off as soon as I hear the word.  I am working on that.

Even though I talk a lot about religion and the damage I believe it has the capacity to do to individuals and to society, I am not really often confronted with looking at my past right in the eye.

That was until this week.

We had an insurrection at the Capitol.  That's another whole blog post.  It just has disgusted and enraged me in a way that I cannot even put into words.   Then, someone I went to school with posted a video from the last Sunday morning service of my former church.  The preacher prays "curses" over those who unfairly stole the election. He cursed them with poverty and with the worst year of their lives.   Considering the year we just came from (fuck off, 2020), that's a pretty hefty curse.  It was absolutely cringe-worthy.   I was angry and sad .   How can you still have such love for a place and for a period of life and simultaneously just think that everything about it is really fucked up? I am having to confront that is happening a lot as I am working through my past: The church, my parents. I have love and anger all at the very same time.  

As my past religion came right to the front of my brain this week, I had to do some examining of myself. I didn't exactly like what I saw.  I had to ask myself how I sat through that for so long. If I were still there, would I believe the election had been stolen? Would I be cheering the pastor on with his curses?  I would like to think not, but I really don't know.  Sometimes, when you are right in the middle of a belief that is so dangerous and divisive, you can't always see through it. This is the true definition of a cult which, even now, is hard for me to say out loud.  It makes me uncomfortable so I can't say it right now. I really started to get down on myself and think what a hypocrite. Here I am spewing righteous fury now when I was once sitting in those pews.   I had to tell myself  STOP and just to be thankful that now I am on the other side. My therapist and I talked a lot about it this week. Dwelling in the past serves me no good now.  I learned.  I moved on.  End of story.  That's what I will continue to tell myself every time this tries to rear its ugly head.

Another interesting thing happened this week.  I had been talking to several friends about reading the Bible again as a book of literature now that I am an adult and an atheist.  I decided I was going to pull out my old Bible, the one the church has given me when I graduated high school.   It had an Al-Anon bookmark tucked in it, and there were lots of passages that were highlighted.  I loved that Bible because it was so easy to understand, and it was my "good" Bible. When I pulled it out, I had an immediate visceral reaction.  I started to be afraid and panic.  Also, I was always taught the Bible should  be on top and nothing on it.   This totally fucked with my OCD because it was the biggest book and should go on the bottom.  I had to tell myself I was being ridiculous and made myself put it on the bottom so my OCD could be satisfied.  I continued to swirl and panic.  I finally decided I  am just not ready for this right now and had to put it back in the closet from whence it came.  I talked to therapist about it.  She said it could have triggered a PTSD reaction because objects do have meaning.   Just picking up that book and trying to remember who I was at that time triggered that reaction in me.  She suggested if I ever did decide I wanted to read it again that I start with a neutral Bible and not one that held such memories.  That's a great idea, but I don't have a desire to pick one up again anytime soon.

I still hold to that my leaving the church was anti-climatic with a little touch of the dramatic as I had to look at some of it again this week.  I had a bad exchange on social media with a dude I went to high school with.  My moral compass is "broken", and I very happily announced I had no qualms about my moral compass thank you very much. I also had a couple of really positive conversations with old friends and mentors. They represent a special and complicated time in my life.  I was reminded again of how fortunate I am to have such loving people from both eras of my life.  It gave me some hope that Christians and non-believers can co-exist together peacefully.  They weren't judging but loving.  Isn't that what a Christian should be?  Isn't that what a good human should be?  I am thankful (man, I hate that word, but it just fits right now) that I still have people in my life from that time who have watched me grow and thankful (there is is again) that I have friends who never knew that part of me.  Both sets of them love me which I think is a huge accomplishment.  

Leaving the church has done a lot for me.  Or maybe it's just getting older.  Maybe a combination of both.  I am more opiniated, sassier, trying to be a good person because it's the right thing to do and not because I am afraid of going to Hell, bitchier, more fiercely loving, more willing to question, more willing to learn, more willing to admit I do not have all the answers, more determined to not end up like either of my parents, more determined to never live a narrow life again.   I am me, and I like that a lot.

Also, Donald Trump is only in office for 2.5 days  Thank gawd. I might need a cocktail later to celebrate.  

THERE WAS A FLY ON PENCE’S HEAD, or how I became a feminist.

Oh wow.  It really has been a long time since I posted. My at least 5 faithful followers reminded me of this very thing.  Hopefully, now the election cycle is *almost* over, I will get into a regular schedule of posting.  Hopefully, Donny is going bye-bye after today so I will have to find a whole new list of things to talk about  I think I am up for the challenge   

Yup. That’s right. It’s Election Day. I have been waiting four years for it to come around. Now that it’s here, it feels a little surreal.  I feel much more disconnected from it than I thought I would. I can’t really tell you how I feel.  I didn’t sleep well because I woke up thinking about it,  but now I’m just meh.  I really don’t have any idea at all of how I expect tonight to go.  Probably some kind of shit show, knowing the current asshole-in-chief but if I have my way, his shit show days are numbered. 

I don’t have anything real pithy to say about the election other than I am just so glad that if anything good comes out of this nightmare, it will be it started me on the path towards really becoming a feminist and embracing it fully and being DAMN PROUD to be one of those “nasty women”.  Watching that asshole stalk Hillary Clinton across the stage four years ago or listening to women who have been sexually assaulted by him or listening to that Access Hollywood tape or watching time after time after time his administration try to suppress women’s rights (and for that matter, anyone’s rights they don’t agree with) has ignited a fire on me. I won’t be told what I can and I can’t do, and I won’t just exist for the sexual gratification of some man.  I will go down with a fight, and I don’t plan to go down at all   

I haven’t always been able to say this about myself.  For a long time, I associated feminism with being a bad thing.  I saw these women as militant and “bitchy“ and not necessarily just trying to advance women’s rights but putting themselves above men.

How fucking ludicrous is that?

A lot of that comes from how I was raised. You know the man is the head of the household, right? Bullshit.  That’s bullshit right now.  My dad was a drunk who came home and passed out each and every night.  If something needed to be done around the house, my mom did it.  If something broke, my mom fixed it or made a mess trying, but goddamn it she still tried. He was in no shape to be head of ANYTHING, and so my mom kept us all together. 

I think some of also comes from me thinking a man needed to charge as a crutch.  I didn’t have the confidence to ask a guy out so I waited for him to do the asking.  I didn’t think I was capable of fixing things so I thought I needed a man to do it.  I didn’t think I could take care of myself so I was waiting for that man who was going to come in and fill my life and do all the things I couldn’t do. 

Also bullshit.  

I do remember I admired my grandmother because she took care of herself and my mom, long after her divorce and long after her second husband died   She didn’t take shit from anybody  When I look back on it, I can see my feistiness has some deep-seated roots. Only  now am I really starting to embrace it.

If there is anything the last decade of my life has taught me, and in particular these last four years, is there isn’t a damn thing I cannot do if I set my mind to it. I get up every day, I got dressed, I work, I take care of my animals, I do my things.  All by myself. Because I am fully damn capable of it. 

Finding my own strength and my own voice has propelled me to action. During this campaign, I have called and moderated and searched social media and gained A LOT of confidence along the way.  I plan on keeping doing something once this campaign is really over.  Since I have the voice, I don’t mind using it.  I also LOVE talking to other women who are on that path of finding their own voice as well. Because after all, isn’t life all about the journey and sharing it with people who matter?

Women are strong and powerful and beautiful all on their own. I encourage everyone to find that voice in themselves and do with it what you will. You don’t have to do things my way. But make it a priority to find and listen to that voice. I did. And I’m not looking back.  

Also. FUCK YOU, DONALD TRUMP, you morherfucking narcissistic ASSHOLE.  I hope your ass gets smeared from one end of this country to the other tonight.  I hope it’s such a divisive, humiliating defeat.  

Wow. That felt good.  

Don’t piss a woman off.