Finding Myself
Mood:  sharp
Now Playing: nothing it's 4am I'm humming Brenda Russell - piano in the dark
Topic: Connections
4:41am Friday 5May06
I can remember that at ten years old I genuinely liked myself as I was. I knew that I was a caring person. I liked that I could stick up for myself and I knew that I had every right to be upset when I was put second or third. It was the beginning of my dismissive years for sure.

I liked that I could out run most of the boys and I knew that I was good enough to have the boy that I liked like me in return. And he did too. His name was Dennis and he was Greek. When all of us neighbourhood kids played hide and seek, Dennis and I always chose places to hide together. If I said that I couldn't find my way in the dark, Dennis would always say, "my hand is out, reach for my hand." I would touch his hand and we would hide pressed close together. It was the closest thing a boy and a girl would get to any kind of intimacy at 10 years old. Dennis was sweet and comforting and reassurring.

At 10 years old, I was sure of myself and my abilities. I loved to draw cartoons but my brother was such a superior artist that I decided to make drawing my secondary talent. I decided that I would be a writer instead and I started to write. Back then I wasn't overly critical of my writing. I somehow instinctively knew that with time and practice my writing ability would improve. Writing was a game of finding the right words like rolling doubles while playing monopoly. Writing occupied my mind and if I wasn't that quick with mathematics when quizzed in class at least I knew deep inside me that I had something that I was quick and smart at even if nobody else knew. I knew that I had my own special something within me.

I feel myself slowly moving through the tail end of my latest transition. I'm getting through and out of the repressed anger of the emotional hardships of the last few years - jobs that I hated but had no choice but to stay at for survival purposes, mistreatment of people that didn't turn out to be friends, the death of my mother and feeling like my whole sense of family died with her.

I'm feeling inspired. I'm focusing less on annoying incompetent people and more on my individual path, who is going to travel with me, who I'll have no sadness in leaving behind. I'm starting to genuinely like myself like that ten year old - good parts and not so good. I feel less of that need to be perfect and then beat myself down because I'm not. I feel less of a need to control the outcome of every situation and yet understand that I will have times when I backslide. That's human nature.

I want to be more of that person who is passionate about things like writing and music, enjoying nature and laughing at my favorite donkey buddy. I'm finding more inspiration and am coming up to the ability to see something loving in people that I don't particularly care for.

I had a conversation with Cinnabon on Sunday that what I love about doing body work (she is a massage therapist and I do Reiki) is that whoever gets on my massage table and allows me to put my hands on them I fall in love with. It's something about how all the daily masks and walls fall away when a person is on the table with their eyes closed and I can almost see what that person looked like as a child. I can feel the sensitivity and need for approval that every human being had at one time before they found the need to disguise their truth.

What a great gift to be able to see in to someone's soul. To cut through the disguises and find that under all the layers that we're all the same. To find some sort of connection to humanity. It makes life a little less solitary.

I don't know how I'm going to fit it in but I'm going to start offering my Reiki services again. Whether it's for free or I offer my services at a community centre or for fundraisers. That ten year old who I liked being had pursuits that she enjoyed. She got some of this living thing right. To start, Cinnabon and I are going to swap services with each other. Reiki for swedish massage.

Living an inspired life.
EY

Favorites and Ramblings
Mood:  bright
Now Playing: N'dambi - Tunin up and Co Signin
30April06 Sunday 5:15pm


Favorite Theatre Company

I've seen all but maybe two productions. My all time favorite production is The Stronger which inspired my idea for a novel in research mode titled The Fold (3019)
Theatre Rusticle link
See a show and then consider donating money for more brilliantly inspiring thought provoking productions. I do!

Favorite Yearly Event
The International Festival of Authors
I'm buying a patron membership this year in order to be able to attend every possible interview, and round table discussion I can get myself to. And I'm taking the week off work.
International Festival of Authors

My Obsessions
Books
Music
The Olympics

Most People Think
I'm extroverted when I'm really introverted. I'm only extroverted when I'm comfortable with the people I'm with.

Most People Don't Realize
I don't take or ask for advice. I just want someone to listen but many people think that is a cue to tell me what they think I should do. They also don't know that I will always do what I want to do not what they think I should do.

My Prince Quirk

I only ever listen to his newest album once. I play his older stuff more frequently and save his newer music for when I feel a need for new Prince music. I always want to feel like I have something new of his to listen to.

My Take on Christmas

I was like most children that always looked forward to Christmas. Each year after all the hyped up excitement something inevitably went wrong. If it wasn't my alcoholic father destroying the Christmas tree and smashing all the presents it was my step father flipping out for some imagined wrong doing. Of course not every single Christmas was shitty but enough of them were to cause me anxious misgivings. If I could I would go to a tropical island and drink some fruity drinks and work on a tan that I don't need.

For most of my adult years I've spent Christmas as the add on at someone's house. I was the orphan that had to be grateful for being included in on the festivities when all I wanted to do was stay home and bury my head until the 26th of December. People don't want to hear about you being alone on Christmas. They think it's depressing and if they had the guts to say it out loud, pathetic. So for years I was someones guest. I had to sit through the torture of watching them open all the presents they received and worse would have to feign happiness and excitement I didn't feel. It was like being the only kid who didn't get cake in a classroom of kids who did. No body is interested in seeing that. Yeah sure, the spirit of Christmas isn't about getting presents until you have to watch your friends opening three hundred of them. Ask me if I feel like a loser?

Then something changed.

One year on my walk home from work, I went to the dollar store and bought a 12 inch Christmas Tree and gold decorations of angels and stars. Then I bought some wrapping paper, a red stocking and went home. Every day for the next two weeks, I went and bought myself some little presents, went home, wrapped them and stuck them around the tree or in the red stocking. I bought Prince's latest CD at the time, the Rainbow Children, and wrapped it. Every single person that knows I love Prince asked me, "How's Prince's new album?"
I had to say that I didn't know because I bought it as a Christmas present and couldn't unwrap it until Christmas. As I explained that in my quest to enjoy Christmas that I bought myself presents and wrapped them most of my friends looked at me like I was nuts.
"Why bother?" they asked, "You already know what you're getting since you bought them."
I explained that I was even more excited because I knew what I got and I had to wait to enjoy them. I had never been this excited about Christmas when I was a kid.
On Christmas day I cooked my own turkey with italian sausage stuffing, mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce (homemade). I also made a prime rib roast, rice and veggies. For dinner I had two plates of food: One with the turkey and the fixin's and the other with the roast beef and mashed potatoes. Two types of gravy equals two different plates of food. And wine! I had such a wonderful time that it has become my Christmas ritual.
People still try to insist that I can't spend Christmas alone and I say, "I learned to love Christmas by spending it alone!"

Okay off to do some rollerblading. Been invited for a BBQ at Hugs and Cinnabon's house. Two of the nicest people I know. I decided to nickname them Hugs and Cinnabon...
EY

Living an Inspired Life
Mood:  rushed
Now Playing: N'dambi - Tunin up and Co Signin'
Topic: Inspiration
Sunday 3:27pm 30apr06

I watched Wayne Dyer's latest PBS special recently. It was part of his new book Inspiration - Your Ultimate Calling. I got into him two years ago when he did the Power of Intention. I ultimately bought the book and all the Cd packages that went with it.

The viewing of his chat on inspiration reminded me about how I used to look for and find inspiration everywhere. Back in the days when I liked myself more and was more emotionally heallthy. ha ha. But seriously I used to have a more upbeat look on life and then it plummeted for a very long time. Part of the subsequent plummeting was that I started focusing on the wrong things, for my sanity anyway.

Since watching his program, I've been doing a few little things for inspirations sake. One of the things is getting up when I wake up way too early and writing down random thoughts in my journal. Enjoying the silent peace of 4am in my apartment building when my downstairs neighbours aren't banging their renovation and my upstairs neighbour Mr Heavyfoot AKA Fe Fi Fo Fum isn't stomping around like he weighs two tons when he is actually quite small. Why is it that some people walk so damn hard when they live in apartments? Do you really think you are the only one in the world? Do I really have to go up and knock on your apartment and show you how to walk lightly? The thing is I've already spoken to him about it and he apologized all shamefaced and has since continued to walk like he's the Giant after Jack in the beanstalk. But I digress...

Inspiration? What has inspired me lately? There was an article in the Toronto Star recently about a man that rented out Roy Thomson Hall after re-mortgaging his house. He rented it because he's always wanted to get on stage and sing in front of an audience. The guy did it and sold it out too. It was his lifelong dream. He put his money where his mouth was and did it.

My second piece of inspiration came from the documentary that was on A&E last night called The man who predicted 9/11. Rick was the head of security for Morgan Stanley and got out all of the Morgan Stanley employees safely except for 6 people. He also died in the tragedy. Now dying in a tragedy isn't necessarily inspiring but this guy was the type of person whose calling was to save people. In the documentary his biographer said that when Rick was in the vietnam war he was the head of his platoon ( I don't really know what it's called but you get the message.) In the majority of the other platoons the survival rate was approximately 50%. 50% of the people died. In Rick's, 6-8 people died only. And the thing about this guy was that it tormented him his whole life that he lost those 6-8 men. Come on buddy you did a hell of a job. But each person was important to him.

As an aside, he met and married the woman of his dreams 3 years before he died in the World Trade Centre attacks.

From the get go, he was looking for ways that the centres could be attacked. he brought in his army buddies and asked for their advice. One friend said that the best way to attack was with a bomb in a van. Rick tried to forewarn the Port Authority, the people that owned/ran the buildings and they nodded their heads, smiled and waved him away. They believed in him more after the 1993 bombing attack that went exactly as his friend predicted.

After that, he brought the same friend back and the friend said that the next time could only be from the air. Rick, believing that there would be another attack first tried to convince the Morgan Stanley people to move to another building. When that didn't work, he started regular evacuation alerts. Every three months whether you were in a meeting, in the bathroom, on a long distance phone call, you had to drop what you were doing and leave the building on Rick's say so. The employees now say that that vigilance was what ultimately got them out alive. Of 2700 employees, 6 people didn't make it out alive.

One of the big executives saw Rick before he left the building and told him, "You need to get out too Rick."
But Rick stayed in to help the EMS workers rescue the other people in the building. An impossible feat as we all know. As a character that would be what would drive the story that this man cannot bear to lose people in his care.

Every one who spoke about him said, "He would have been a hero if he'd left the building after he got the Morgan Stanley employees out."
He would have been a hero but he still would have been tormented by the lives lost. He died doing what he believed in. An inspiring man...

Living with Joy
Mood:  energetic
Now Playing: 1 Thing - Amerie
Topic: Quote
Sunday 12:40pm 30Apr06

If every single person spent time only where he accomplished the greatest good for himself and the person he was with, the world would change in a day. It is important to spend time in ways that promote your highest good. If something is not for your highest good, I can guarantee that it is not for the highest good of the planet or others either.
You may ask, what am I here to do that will bring me joy? Each one of you has things that you love to do. There is not one person alive who does not have something he loves to do. Pg.21 Living with Joy - Keys to Personal Power & Spiritual Transformation by Sanaya Roman



Imagine what we would all be like if we were doing things that were for our highest good? What kind of attitude would I have?

When my writing was my number one priority, not too many things could get me down. I can remember when I didn't get involved with petty gossip and didn't care about work politics. Even nasty customers couldn't affect me.

My saying years ago was, "If I'm noticing all the crap that's going on then I've taken my eyes off the goal." That saying really worked for me. I knew where I wanted to be. I'm not really sure where that all went. I guess I lost trust in the process. I started to worry about money. I tried to maintain many friendships and relationships like normal people. I wanted to feel more included. I wanted to be an insider.

I realize that I have always been an outsider, an observer. It's what made me want to write. I've always been the one that hears information of a too personal nature. I knew stuff about the grown ups when I was little that no other child knew. I witnessed inappropriate and traumatic things.
I always thought, "that's an interesting story."
I always wanted to write about it.

When I was 7 and 8 years old, my mother used to tell her guests,"I watch how Shelley reacts to you. If there is ever a person in my house that Shelley doesn't talk to then I just know that person isn't trustworthy. "
I truly was an observer.

Maybe writing is indeed my higher purpose. Maybe I'm not meant to be an insider surrounded by many friends living the overly sociable life. It's not like trying to be an insider ever did anything for me. In my quest to maintain friendships I made my writing secondary. I woke up to find out that their lives kept moving forward and mine kinda stood still. They became "busy" and I became the loser that still called regularly living a rather ordinary existence. What the hell was I thinking?

With my depression diagnosis I had to face that my thoughts put me there and my thoughts would also get me out. I had to make time to focus on what I wanted and come to terms with myself as an outsider. I'll probably always be on the fringes, some one that doesn't totally fit in. I am the product of that little girl that went to a new school every year. Although I have lifelong friends, there is most likely going to be a revolving door of acquaintances. Is that bad? Do I really need to feel like I'm in the center of some great big community that I can turn to? How much of this living have I done by myself anyway?

With the wrong friends comes the influence that makes me want to keep up with the Joneses when that's not even my personality type. I don't want to live in a condo. I've never been interested in owning a house. As long as I have the things that I need, I could care less where I live. Being an insider puts me in line for the lectures on why I should want more of what they have. Why I shouldn't be single. Why I should feel inferior because I'm not pretty enough, rich enough, quiet enough, loved enough and all the judgements that I never paid attention to when I kept my eyes on the goal -- being a writer. Plus my real friends would never make me feel like that.

My higher purpose is my writing. My gift is my writing. It's a gift to people who want to escape. People who want to survive. People who want to be inspired. People who want to learn something about how others live, love and whatever else I want to make it. My writing has to be my priority, my focus, taking me step by step by step to my highest good. It's the only time I've ever truly been happy within my life.

Wayne Dyer calls it living an inspired life. I want to feel good. I want to live an inspired life and dammit I'm going to do that starting today. ha ha

Well my above thoughts are more than a little rambling but a start on the focus of what I want for the EY Page. Writing2live. Living an inspired life. Living my dreams. My mistakes in the process and past failures in my mind. What I've learned and what works for me now. Who says I know anything anyway?

Oma's Advice
Mood:  bright
Now Playing: Anthony Hamilton - Float
Monday 24Apr06 10pm

I always believed I would marry. My dream was to have three children - two boys because I really like boys and a daughter as a middle child because every woman should have a daughter. I wanted her as the middle child so she wouldn't really suffer from middle child syndrome sandwiched between two boys. The older boy would be special because he was the first boy and the youngest boy would be special because he was the baby. I had it all figured out.

Now at 42 years old and no biological clock to speak of, I believe I may eventually live with someone and children are not in the cards unless I adopt. I still wish I made enough money to adopt Justin ( a child I worked with when I was a Child and Youth Worker) 13 years ago. Justin is 25 years old now and I've lost track of him.

As a child when I said I wanted to be a writer my family told me that it was a nice hobby but I needed to choose a career. I've wandered aimlessly trying to find a career that could support my writing hobby. Through the stress of dysfunctional co-workers and often borderline abusive bosses I'd nearly given up on my dream. People, friends, family members, will tell you things to help you to avoid the pain they've lived through. They tell you things because they love you. Most times they are best to follow their own advice and stay the heck out of your dreams.

My mother always wanted to be a country singer like Charley Pride (first African American to play the Grand Ole Opry). I know she wanted me to be financially secure. She couldn't have known that I would feel broken, not knowing what I wanted to do other than writing of course.

My Oma (Dutch for Grand mother) was the only adult that liked that I wanted to be a writer and she encouraged my dream. She gave me my first writing magazine at the time called, "Canadian, Author and Bookman." She told me that she had to give up her dream to be a housewife and care for her husband and children. There was a sigh that said that despite the joy her children and grandchildren gave her , if things were different, things would be different.

With her biological grand children she always encouraged marriage. The discussions were about what jewelery would be passed down to them prior to their weddings. She encouraged me, on the other hand, to wait until later in life before I got married. There was more than enough time. "You don't want to give up your dreams because of a man."

Considering how old fashioned her beliefs were her advice to me was like she could see into my future. I was going to be a late bloomer or better yet I was going to follow my own self imposed norm. I never could understand the expectation that a woman should be a constant follower to her husband's every whim. I couldn't understand how a woman had to subtly manipulate a man into believing that he had come up with an idea that she had actually come up with. All those games were tiring to me. I couldn't stand that my brother got special privileges because he was a boy there was no way that I was going to live with a man who made all the decisions.

Had I married young I probably would have given up on writing altogether. Had I started out as a writer without the multitude of jobs and experiences I've had I definitely wouldn't have the ideas I have now.