Alyse In Words

DIYing the Next Part Of This Life


Leave a comment

Visualizing What’s Not

Days 70 & 71:  I continue to revel in what’s not.  I smudged the house and let the wind sweep though the rooms.  Things here feel lighter and changed.  The house is not suddenly, magically organized and simplified.  However, it looks as if I have managed to set up a Spring clean-up for my neighborhood of about 400 homes.  Not my kitchen cupboards.  Not the office/craft space closet.  No.  None of that.  But I spent hours making it possible for our non-HOA’d, unincorporated village to have Spring clean-up.  Someone print me a sign that says, ‘Really?  What were you thinking?’

I have not heard about my car’s transmission issues and I am just not worrying about it.  I do have a sign that says ‘Worry is a misuse of imagination.’  It reminds me that worrying about the future is about as useful as trying to change the past.  It doesn’t get you a step further.  As a former champion worrier, I assure you this is true.  I enjoy visualizations and this is something that works for me.  Did you ever get a song stuck in your head and nothing turns it off.  Close your eyes.  Visualize the person/band performing the song on a stage.  Imagine yourself turning off the spotlight, pulling the plug.  Then say ‘The show’s over’ and visualize the dejected performer(s) exiting stage right.  It works for me.  And I am working on one that has to do with worries that crop up or old memories that don’t do any good.  I bid them farewell and tell them to have a nice trip.  Then I see them stacked onto the deck of a boat (or walking on board with a suitcase).  The boat moves away from the dock and I watch as it sails off into the sunset. Gone. It requires a little faith in yourself and practice but it can work.  If not, there’s always sangria and chocolate chip cookies. Exhale.

 


Leave a comment

Promise-Scented Winds

Day 68:  It was warm and windy outside and I invited some of that breeze into the house.  I had a lazy day on the exterior.  I didn’t cook. I didn’t eat much.  I did take some time to visualize and breathe. I’ve heard it said that we are inhaling and exhaling the same air breathed by Buddha and Gandhi, Mother Teresa and Bette Midler. I have been thinking about relationships and personal growth and I think it’s similar.  We have remarkable friendships and loves and those relationships move forward in time.  Some stay, some meander off, others we cling to for too long and still others we halt.  Then winds of life blow through and stir up feelings or memories and we reexamine them.

Today I thought about some of my relationships and change. My dad was a violent alcoholic. I remember coming home from some fete at school.  It was my 18th birthday and my parents had forgotten it. They were arguing, it escalated and I had my dad arrested.  That’s some ugly stuff.  As an adult, I poked around at family stories and learned about what happened to turn a creative, thoughtful boy into a bitter, brutal man.  I learned to put distance between kid-me and Dad so that as adult-me I could see Ted the person. I found compassion for kid-him and damaged adult-him.  I don’t sit around massaging old wounds and trying to remember the pain.  I’ve let it go.

I don’t understand why we cling to stuff and try to convince ourselves that we can change the past.  It’s like going to the cemetery and arguing with bones in the ground.  Bones don’t answer and you look foolish.  I think a lot of being content is choosing to let go.  I mean, have you ever seen anyone skipping down the street saying, “Wow!  This resentment I’ve been clinging to for 10 years makes every day pure sunshine and the future a promise of goodness!”

About a year ago, an old acquaintance from high school started chatting with me on Facebook.  Someone else contacted me and said, ‘She treated you like crap in high school. What’s with being all buddy-buddy?’  I remember laughing a little and feeling sad for the other person.  It was simple math–45 years of time and space and life changes makes one difference.  If you choose to let go.  I choose to.  I don’t pine for the good ole days.  I want to be able to look forward to the remarkable new days that belong to adult me.  Silver-haired me.  Those days were blowin’ in the wind and I’m glad they are blown away.  These days are swept with winds of change.  These winds are scented with sage and citrus and promise. Lots of promise.


Leave a comment

Balance and Serendipity

Day 56 – I really like paying my bills.  No. Really.  I don’t make a ton of money.  I haven’t had a raise in pay in 4-5 years and the cost of living in Colorado has gone up about 14%. I probably have a reason to whine and complain but the fact is, every month I am able to pay the bills. I have more than enough left to make my life.  I had the extra expense of a garage door repair and still managed to save around $100.  I am not a financial genius by any means but I do trust in checks and balances–actually serendipity and balance to be specific.

I think that if I act responsibly then the Universe or the Great Whatsis takes note and when I need a hand I get one.  I pay my bills early.  I buy food for the birds and critters in the trees around my house. I pay for boxes of Girl Scout cookies and tell the kids to give them away to seniors and people in uniforms. It’s not rocket science. It’s what I can do. In return when my computer monitor blows out (like it did on Sunday), a friend hands me the monitor she’s been hauling around in the trunk of her car for a year and Monday night I have a whiz bang new monitor.  You may think it’s dumb luck.  Philosophical folks would say that we speak our realities into existence and that what we say happens is what happens. I must admit that I have been on the ‘thoughts become things/words create our realities’ train for a long while now.  I believe in serendipitous events,too.  And I believe in balance.  There is only one part that puzzles me.  It goes like this:  If I try to sell my stuff, nobody buys it. I can help other people sell their stuff and what I tell them to do works–people buy their stuff.  If I spend money, I usually get great bargains. It’s how I’m built–someone out there got long thin legs and I got short legs but great bargaining ability. There’s some balance there.  I think. There is an asterisk:  *If I sell my stuff to use the money for a cause, it all turns out well very quickly.  For example, I bought a set of amazing handmade, artist signed vintage Native American jewelry from a wealthy person for $5.00.  Two weeks later I needed money to take donated books and clothing to the Pine Ridge Reservation.  I sold the jewelry to a collector for enough money to finance the 1000 miles of driving, truck rental and expenses. As I clear my clutter, friends keep advising me to sell the stuff.  They look at me with puzzled faces when I say I can only give it away.  I could sit here and write 50 stories about giving away something and how much joy and serendipity it has brought to my life.  I don’t know how it works.  I just know that it does work. Playing tag with the Mystery.  I like this game.


Leave a comment

Conversing with the Full Moon

40 Days In – This was a day of slow-moving goodness.  I was awakened around 3 AM by brilliant, velvety light and got up, walked out on to my deck and saw that the whole world was alive with moonlight and clouds that looked like they had been painted into the sky. Stars and satellites and a couple of jets winked at me.  If it had been a little warmer and my bones a little younger I think I would have brought my pillow and comforter out there and waited for the dawn.  I spent about a half hour  telling the moon and night critters and who/whatever else might be listening ‘thank you’ and ‘I’m grateful that everything is this good’ and ‘I want to just keep going.’  Then I went back to bed and thawed my bare feet against a warm dog and hugely overslept.  Forty-five minutes later I took the wrong turn I always take on the way to this restaurant where I was meeting my friends for lunch.  I arrived 5 minutes late to find these amazing, intelligent, wonderful women making faces at me through the restaurant window.  We drank and ate and teased and reveled in friendship and womanhood.  I listened to each of them telling stories and was soaking up just what a gift it is to have good friends.  People who form your tribe, your village.  Part of what I have read about obtaining contentment is figuring out who your people are.  Who brings the sandpaper to smooth out your rough edges?  Who holds your hand?  Who is your chicken soup? Your wine?  Who loves you warts and all?  Who nudges you and reminds you to pull up your big girl nickers?  It is worth the work and effort and sorting out to find these people.  And then tell the moon or the night critters or, if you are brave enough, these people just how much they bring to you.