Have you ever stopped and watched the happenings in the small pools around the sandbars at low tide? These are called shoals according to my research and they are teeming with life at low tide.

It occurred to me as I sat and watched the creatures in this pool that they were sheltered. When we say “low” it often has a negative meaning and it dawned on me that my thought was on this pattern until I saw that these creatures were protected in this low tide recess that was gently fed streams of the cool water from a stray wave, taking back only what skimmed the top.

So, I pondered the sanctuary of a shoal and the bounty of Low Tide. It is the best time to collect shells, sea glass, coral and pebbles; it gives to us the longest stretch of beach to sprawl upon and soak up the sun; and it gives high tide to the other side of the ocean carrying marine life, ships and all matter of other creature along for the ride. And all the while, it provides shelter and protection alongside the banks of the shoals inside the pools for the littlest of creatures so that they may have a chance to thrive in the open sea.
It is up to us to see the beauty in the gift of low and release the negative connotation so that we can reach the high on the other side.

Come and let us philosophize.

Welcome to the new home of my collective musings on the world around us.  I am thankful that I am able to experience all that this ife has to offer and glad that you have stopped by to share my tiny reflections.  Please enjoy and let me know how you feel about my writing.  I welcome your feedback always.  Namaste.

This journey I have been on in recovering from a “mild” traumatic brain injury has taught me so much about my Self, relationships, obligations, hopes, balance, our social conditioning and my place within this life.  In the beginning, I was frustrated because I could not communicate adequately or function well on my own and this uber-independent woman that managed and controlled everything was now depending on everyone else to help her get by.  Then I went through denial and just forged ahead forgetting to focus on healing which led to anger because I was not healing.  When you have painted yourself into a nice corner, I have now learned, you just have to wait for the paint to dry then you can turn around, see the beauty of the colors and walk out of the corner.

That is where I am at now.  Walking out of the corner and recognizing the beauty and grace of each stroke, some are covered up in multiple coats with a few different colors that have now blended to form a beautiful collage that I could not see before.  Being able to see that masterful kaleidoscope is a very powerful thing and was only facilitated through staring so intently at that damned corner that I had no place to look other than inside myself.  Once inside there, I gave myself permission to be mad, to forgive, to give responsibilities away, to breathe, to love myself with all of my flaws and to embrace the dreams I have held dear.

I must admit, this is a guided tour where the walk to the corner was a rather misguided trip.  The guide came to me through conversations with many-a-friend over campfire, reflective reading, walks alone with the iPod and camera and reading.  The guide is a girl I know from a long time ago.  She has always been there for me and I rarely listened to her because she often encourages me to be self-indulgent.  I never have wanted to be perceived that way.  As of late, I discovered that she is also a very rational, even-tempered person that balances her encouragement for my flighty artistic side with just the right amount of responsibility to my sustentative needs.  She is a beautiful young woman and she has grown up so much while I wasn’t paying attention to her, flourishing without my interference.  We reconnected when I was in California on a walk by myself one day.  When I turned the corner, I saw her where previously I saw a weary middle-aged woman encumbered by a life of servitude.  She looked exactly like me, bathed in light, happy, relaxed and she was smiling at me like she was giving me permission to be me and nothing more, expecting me to be nothing less.  I felt warm and comfortable, like my mother was hugging me.

When I made that connection and centered my Self again, I began to see my life differently.  That is when I started to see that I had placed the limitations on my life and I am the only one with the power to free myself of the limitations so that I can pursue the dreams I had out away.  I could see where I had held myself captive by own sense of obligation and it was time to let go of the attachment to obligations that were not necessary to make room for healing, growth and love.  And, a funny thing happened.  I began to draw my boundaries and have endeavored to not over-obligate, I wanted to do things for people not because I had to and that opened a space inside so I could see the same humanity in other people.

My guide is very special to me now and I always listen to her, even though it’s hard to bring her voice forward from the din at times.  She does remind me to balance my actions between duty to myself and to others.  I understand now that she has always been with me, in my subconscious, urging me along, patting me on the back, lifting me up, fending off attacks from betrayers.  I brushed her off and steeled myself against her compassion like I did everyone else who fell short of my self-imposed unattainable expectations and just drown her out with work and “ethic”.  She has taken a mighty stand against that part of me, quieting the doubts and fears that I have projected upon others.  She is my Artemis and that is the best guide to have through this colorful journey to humanity.

Accepting the humanity of other people, well that is another journey called humility that I will write about on another day.  Right now, I am going to sit back and enjoy this train ride up the Pacific Coast from San Diego to Los Angeles to see a friend.  And to see a campfire, full of color lapping one over the other, ever changing and entrancing.  Man, I love a campfire with friends.  That is one of the best things in this life.

After the accident last year, I took a little time off because I couldn’t walk or talk. Once I was able to form a complete sentence, I begged my independence behind the steering wheel and pretty much went back full throttle. My livelihood depended on that independence. It seems there is a little hump of wellness that I just have not been able to get over. In the last month it became clearly evident that I must heed the advice of physicians and take a break. The stars aligned and I took a trip to see my uncle in California. I didn’t realize that the trip would include further alignment of stars and extreme moments of clarity.

For months I had no idea what the doctor was talking about when he told me to lower my stress level. Until I got off the plane in California. Colors were vivid. The air was crisp and breathable. I felt welcomed by missed family and reconnected with old friends. I began to explore not only the world around me but the world I was becoming acutely aware of within me.

While in Los Angeles, I supported my uncle in his endeavors and then stayed in LA to see a friend at one of his shows and continued on to my uncle’s home in San Diego for the last leg of my trip. I spent a glorious day exploring on my own down by the Santa Monica Pier taking photos, observing and reflecting on my current state. My buddy from high school was kind enough to let me crash at his place that evening and took me to explore downtown LA. He indulged my deepest desire to go to High Voltage Tattoo only to miss Kat Von D by “that” much then we stalked Yamashiro and I saw breathtaking beauty there. Then we skipped down to Olivera Street for some authentic Mexican cuisine and fall-on-the-floor-after-one margaritas.

The next morning while my friend went to work I took an iPod assisted stroll up to Griffith Park and the trails in search of the perfect shot of the Hollywood Sign. Something about Annie Lennox, the air, flowers, sunshine, the path of my choosing, beautiful sites and georgous photos made me find a place deep inside of myself that I didn’t realize I had built walls around and shut off completely. My hopes, dreams, aspirations and passions seemed to float back up to the top off the walls I had forged and began to spill over. My thoughts became clear and I realized the path that I needed to take with my business that had been slipping through my fingers for a while because I was so taxed with its management.

That evening our friend Laura drove up (picked me up on Hollywood Boulevard just in the knick of time might I add) and we went to see our friend at The Actor’s Playpen. The show is called My Three Sisters, by John Walcutt adapted from The Three Sisters by Anton Chekhov. The heavily philosophical and sometimes dark Chekhov is not an easy work to read or interpret much less bring alive onstage to entertain. Never having experienced a Chekhov or Checkhov-esque play onstage before I had no idea that it could actually be witty while exploring just what had been rattling around inside my noggin for the past few days. My buddy Jim (Vershinin) gave one of his best performances ever (and I’ve seen a few since circa 1989). I was thoroughly impressed with the intimate setting and the cast did a fantastic job on this show. Ariel Macintosh’s performance as Irina was absolutely unforgettable.

Immediately I connected with what was going on with all the players and identified with each of the three sisters in one small way or another. The show begins on the birthday of the youngest sister, Irina. She is the stag in the show, the light. She knows there is more because she has heard of it and can imagine what it looks like. She longs for the happy times everyone has talked of and the good things they all once had. If onlly she can get back to New York, that is where it was all left. Poor Masha, the middle sister. She married young, likely for comfort and stability and stays there because it is the right thing to do. Her husband is fine gentleman, loves her very much despite her cold temperament and is “happy, happy, happy”. There was Olga, the unwitting matriarch of the family who had settled into her role and long ago let go of childish dreams grasping at them from time to time only through the eyes of her youngest sister. She sees what her middle sister is suffering and wants desperately for her to have a passion and not betray her heart. There is also a brother, Andre whom has longed for Natalie Vermillion against his sisters’ wishes. She is not of the same class as the Prozorov family and the sisters are not happy with her style.

Enter Alexander Vershinin. He is the “new sheriff” in town, brings with him a tortured marriage, conflicted feelings about his children and knew these young ladies back in New York before their father died. He offers to Irina more stories of New York to fuel her desire to forego proposals of marriage by her suitors and become an independent woman who earns her own wage and make it back to her idyllic happy place. He respects Olga’s authority in the family and treats with the dignity reserved for men in that position. In return, Olga shows him kindness and opens her heart without expecting a return on the investment. Col. Vershinin shows Masha that she does have emotion after all and she opens to the idea, sparking passion within them both. He doesn’t exactly see eye-to-eye with Andre.

All of the siblings represent a different facet on this philosophical journey for me. There is labor, work, action and ultimately the human condition. Labor is that which we do to stay alive; how we make a living, put food on the table and clothes on our back. It is redundant and must be done. Our work produces something. We work at a relationship, to build a house or to craft something we give. Generally our work either frustrates or satisfies us and can sometimes do both. Our actions are what people see about us. Although there is some debate on the matter, my philosophy is that we control what others see in us. Sometimes people catch glimpses of us that we didn’t want to let slip and it can be hard to balance what our true self is and what our public image shows. The final definition character activity here is the human condition. While it is sometimes used as a collective term for the preceding three, I choose to keep it separate. You could simply call it desire.

Andre marries Natalie and they produce children. He works tirelessly at his marriage to keep her happy and satisfy his sisters. Olga labors through life caring for the needs of everyone on the family. She seems settled to her role and we catch a glimpse now and then of what her dreams once were; a husband, children, maybe a nice home in New York. She is our laborer. Masha, poor Masha, she is such the actor. She plays the role of wife to the husband that is so happy and so fond of her. All the while they are both denying the fact that they are smothering the other’s flame out. Masha and Vershinin had a spark and it was a betrayal of their vows to their respective spouses. When they decided to give in to the betrayal, Vershinin was deployed and Masha was left. Ah, Irina. She is what everyone has saved up. She is full of desire, ready to work, labor and act upon her goal. When she is finally convinced that the only way to achieve that true desire is to accept Baron’s hand in marriage, that betrayal of herself is paid back with his death.

The human condition. Desire. We want what is just beyond our reach; what is imagined but not yet fully real. So, what happens when desire is realized? Where do you go from there? You go back to your labor, your work and your action. Desire is what lies within in us and we have to choose to act upon the desire, let it develop more before we act or to let it go so that we can carry on without hinderance to our labor and work. Desire can consume a person wholly if it is not either put to rest or allowed the chance to become reality. Therein lies the indivdual debate. Do I defy my dreams, debate my dreams or drive my dreams to reality? Judging from this play and my experiences leading up to and thereafter: move over, I’m getting in the driver’s seat!

Have you ever really thought about this English language conundrum?  It is the forefront of my mind these days with all of the goings on in politics.  I knew if the the administration that got elected did so, there would be some drastic changes that would not bode well with the middle-class everyday American public.  I had no idea that it would be this bad.
Every day I hear something else that just simply shocks me.  Being a marketing person, I respect the administration for being a marketing powerhouse.  Quite honestly, I am in awe of their muscle.  As an honest tax-paying, American car driving, Coca-Cola drinking, worried-how-to-make-ends-meet American, I am scared to death of the effect on our culture.

This brings me to the dilemma of the day.  Do I support the machine because of their awesome weilding of demographic data and techno-advanced marketing tactic?  Or do I stand in defiance and say, “Cut the bullshit and the tactic, give me something real!”?  I am leaning toward the latter.  I have not been a very active politico until as of late.  I have just been incensed what with bowing to the Prince of Saudi Arabia, touching The Queen, a portuguese water dog and KUMAR as a liaison to Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders?

Come on, cut the crap.  When are we going to wake up and see that The White House is now a farce with the blind leading the blind.  The government is now the largest marketing firm in the US, hell the world.  And we keep getting suckered by the ads.  They’ve got our number, for sure.

I remember a story where a government gave people numbers; they tattooed them on their arms.  Is this where we are headed?  I think I’ll try to escape before the Nazis start coming for me.

I woke up on Friday, January 16 and decide to face my problems head on and just fix them and move on. Feeling as though God obviously thought I was Wonder Woman, I steeled myself and got out of bed to ready for the day. As I was washing my face a sudden wave hit me that this was the the tenth anniversary of the day my mother was essentially sentenced to her death with the Ovarian Cancer diagnosis. After getting ready and starting out my day, first tackling the PCs, it was obvious that I could not overcome what had been boiling inside without letting it just boil over and I had to just leave to breathe. I decided that I would just take a break from the worries and the PC fix would “come to me” or I would find a source for some free PC advice. In the face of my self-pity, I attended a high-school friend get-together to which I had previously committed.

Low and behold – I met the husband of one of my friends that owns an IT business and after we talked for a few minutes he gave me pretty much the answers I had been needing and we worked out a barter arrangement for further work should those fixes not hold me over. Then Saturday I spent the day helping a friend around her house pretty much all day and it felt good to see our accomplishments at the end of the day. Long story short – I learned two lessons over the weekend. Sometimes it helps to walk away from your own worries and be with or help a friend. It’s amazing that the answer to some of your problems can be stumbled upon by helping someone else with theirs. The second is that whatever the situation ~ giving it up to God may actually be the answer. Call it fate, faith or divine guidance; Mom’s magnet most likely has it right: “Where God guides, he provides.”

“When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Natures God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.”

Read the paragraph one more time and think reflectively after each beat. It is very deep and very relevant to the current status of our government. During the elections it became quite clear to me that the outcome of the election was of little consequence.

My fresh perspective on this excerpt is this: Perhaps it is time that our society take note of Thomas Jefferson’s intent and we take stand against what has become a puppet show. Perhaps if we band together against the media controlled figure heads and demand accountability for the decisions made with backroom pork slid in to appease this that or the other high power people, then quite possibly we won’t need China to bail out anyone. Maybe, just maybe, we can stand again on our own two feet and re-establish this nation as the power house our forefathers fought so dearly to make it become.

To that end, and because I believe the change starts with me, this is where I start. This is my Declaration of Independence signed again today, December 31, 2008:

I choose to be happy and take responsibility for my happiness, I choose what happens next and hold no one else captive by that choice, I will endeavor to release my fears and I will no longer allow the decisions made by others to dictate my life, instead I will choose my path taken in reaction to his or her decision and will feel no remorse for what my choice causes anyone other than myself or my child.