Friday, December 20, 2013

Praise be to Jesus!




I am pretty liberal with my thinking and my beliefs.  I don't judge someone too harshly if they say the wrong thing.  Yes I might stop and think, "whoa that was a mouthful", but then I try to give them the benefit of the doubt.  Unless what they are saying is about me then I will bitch slap that person and judge them until the cows come home. 
 
Phil Robertson, of Duck Dynasty, the father of the family said the following things in a GQ interview;

“Start with homosexual behavior and just morph out from there. Bestiality, sleeping around with this woman and that woman and that woman and those men,” Robertson said in an interview with GQ. He went on to add that he thinks being gay is illogical because, well, “It seems like, to me, a vagina—as a man—would be more desirable than a man’s anus.”
Most gay men I know, don't want to be rockin' the vagina.  So "this woman and that woman" not likely.  And a man's anus?  I can only guess that it differs from that of say a giraffe, hard to reach too.  Just sayin'.  Only guessing though.

What is shocking are Robertson’s
comments about race in the same interview. Buried under the firestorm of media and public outrage over Robertson’s comments on sexuality is his stunning insinuation that blacks were quite happy in the Jim Crow South:

I never, with my eyes, saw the mistreatment of any black person. Not once. Where we lived was all farmers. The blacks worked for the farmers. I hoed cotton with them. I’m with the blacks, because we’re white trash. We’re going across the field .... They’re singing and happy. I never heard one of them, one black person, say, ‘I tell you what: These doggone white people’—not a word! ... Pre-entitlement, pre-welfare, you say: Were they happy? They were godly; they were happy; no one was singing the blues
Dude, just because you didn't see it does not mean it didn't happen.  Pretty sure there are 6 million less Jewish ancestors in the world that if you thought it not true, does not make it so.  Therefore African Americas were treated unjustly.  Your saying otherwise, doesn't change that.  Pretty sure the colour of your skin saved 'your ass' in the fields and you turned a blind eye, or were blind to, otherwise. 


And now, his apology, sort of....

"I myself am a product of the 60s; I centered my life around sex, dr...ugs and rock and roll until I hit rock bottom and accepted Jesus as my Savior. My mission today is to go forth and tell people about why I follow Christ and also what the bible teaches, and part of that teaching is that women and men are meant to be together. "However, I would never treat anyone with disrespect just because they are different from me. We are all created by the Almighty and like Him, I love all of humanity. We would all be better off if we loved God and loved each other."


Pretty sure you just disrespected both gays and African Americans.  Pretty sure you therefore do not love all humanity.  Just my take on your statement above, a stab in the dark really.  I know one thing about religion, I moan "oh god" at least once a week and them gays, apparently they like it more often so they are talking to our lord almighty likely daily!  "Praise be to Jesus!"

What I don't get, is Americans, and Canadians, fascination with this show that lands this guy an interview with GQ magazine.  This illustrates more what's wrong with the world than this interview ever will.  Men like this?  They do not warrant a TV show, a commercial, an interview, or a Honey Boo Boo Christmas special.  We need to stop supporting this kind of bullshit TV.

It's only ma' opinion, which I am as free to give as he is.  I don't have to like it, neither do you. 

Now that's my intelligent eloquent statement.  My redneck one is, "dumb ass hillbilly". 

What are your thoughts on this?  Like the show and everything since.  If you watch this, do you also enjoy Honey BB (we're homies) or do you draw the line at DD (Duck Dynasty)?

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Down Low...."I'm down here, no look down deeper, deeper, I'm just beyond there"


I know sometimes I come across as the “got it together”, funny as hell (a got it together funny as hell girl can only assume), harsh and scary (so I’ve been told) girl.  I am sure some times I even come across as odd due to the bi polar.  Maybe some of you haven’t even noticed it.  Lucky you, you got away unscathed.  I am strong enough sometimes, only sometimes, to push this chemical imbalance in my brain completely aside and to forge on.  If you knew the extent to the darkness, (which I hoped under these new meds I would never see again), you’d think twice about ever questioning the strength and fortitude of anyone alive with this disease.  I know all people get sad, lose people, loved ones, and that’s hard, that takes a person down lower than you think you will come out of.  I also know people suffer from plain old depression and how awful that is.  Seems never ending.  I sympathize so greatly because I can put myself in your shoes.  I just can’t control when I get to wear those shoes.  It is heart wrenching, and tears me open, for me to even step into your shoes at these times because then I remember so clearly my last low and once I think of that, it’s hard not to be frightened and stopped in your tracks worrying when the next low will be.  As anyone with bi polar knows, there will be one, just how dark and low you cannot know.


“How low can you go, how low can you go…..”  Little GREASE dance off reference for ya.




This is the first time with bi polar that I have written while down, bottom of the barrel, it doesn’t go lower than this, down.  I figured if I can write about it when I am in a semi normal phase or manic, I can try when I am down and down I am.   Typically I just defer on Facebook to sending other people’s postings and share them with whatever snippet I can pull out of my ass on the fly.  I say very little otherwise until it passes.  Sometimes I am asked where I’ve been, and I say busy, but my heads been shoved as deep into the sand as I can, until I can come out and its clear sailing.  Sometimes I am actually busy because I am manic and have “so much to do and accomplish, and start and finish and and and”.  This writing thing has been really effective for me as an outlet and as a way to empty my brain.  But during a down, I have only done one on one with people.

Typically this is when I’ve written to friends who’ve wronged me, or I perceived it so when low, and hope they will love me again helping me climb out of the hole.  Not only is that not possible but if I feel wronged why would I go back to said person for help?  I am so much smart than that.  That, “you wronged me love me”, is a toxic rinse repeat cycle I have to try to never repeat again.   It’s awful to be low then feel kicked by someone you thought loved you, then you kick back, only to regret it all.  You end up lying in a ditch half beaten to death by your supposed friends and YOUR OWN mind at the end.  No one wins in that. 



Last night I was happily clicking away on Facebook entertaining all.  I apologized in one update for the number of updates, I knew right then as the letters typed out in front of me that I was manic, it had crept up on me unnoticed.   I don’t get manic or stay manic for long, barely at all.  I never do.  I didn’t think about that.  Least I tried not to.  You don’t want to, in happy euphoric moment, think “I am gonna crash and it’s gonna get ugly around here”.  You just want to try to control how high you go, “slow down, breathe, slow down, and breathe”.  The higher you go, the further the fall.

Here’s my take on Yesterday and Last night:

On Facebook I status updated with little to no impulse control and I made 10-12 people laugh their asses of = manic (and comedic genius FYI…why hello Robin Williams, why yes, you are the Grand PooBaa of the American Bi Polar Society).

I skipped dinner, not hungry, have things to say, too busy = manic.

Why can’t I sit still? = manic.

Take a nap in the day because I am bored to death = manic. (Oh kids, there’s enough big pharma around here, I could put down a good sized rhino for a nap).

8pm at night a bag of chips and mini chocolate bars for dinner with zero impulse control = manic.

Online shopping with zero impulse control (when ‘zee XMas budget is spent) = manic.


I went to bed happy and ready for a good sleep and even with the sleep medication they gave me, nothing.  Couldn’t shut down.  Couldn’t turn off.  Then all my limbs started buzzing, like electricity was running through them.  Didn’t want to wake the husband, off to the couch I went.  If you have never experienced or seen restless limbs, once it’s got a hold of you it’s much like receiving the, “CLEAR”, shocks they do in the ER when your heart stops.  You find yourself contorting your body and stretching and clenching to see if you can release the muscles that won’t calm down.  I knew last night my body was telling my mind the mania was short lived, I was peaking. 

Imagine a really good low point for you, driven by the environment, losing someone, having your heart broken, and now imagine that feeling for no reason at all, none.  It just happens.  One evening you are typing jokes and making people laugh and you wake up in the morning and for no reason life is worthless.  Someone says good morning the wrong way, or starts a conversation you could have had on any other given day and it rips you in two.  You find yourself sitting on the floor of your closet holding back the deepest wails you know want to escape.  You put your pajamas back on and slip into bed because the day has ended or you want it to, it’s 10am.  All you can think about is “when will this end?”  I can’t predict it, but I get a better idea of when it might be coming each time it happens.  The severity of it is still a surprise when the doctor gives you drugs that made you feel normal for a few months.  Makes it even harder.  “Oh god, for the first time in 30 years I feel normal and……shit what happened? Why am I down here?”  “This wasn’t supposed to happen”. 




I can blow happy thoughts out my ass, all day long but it’s not gonna change the chemical imbalance in my brain.  I can do something positive like write and still, not sure I feel any better deep down.  But I do it, I need to try anything and try I will.  I guess I also write in case someone out there suffers like this and they feel like they are alone, they are not.  I meditated for the past three days.  20 minutes at a time, reverting my thoughts none judge mentally back to nothing but my breath.  Today’s meditation ended when I launched the stool I use to meditate with across the room when I came out of meditation no better than I went in.  Forgot entirely to give credit to the 20 minutes I got, brain unclouded just breathing.   Perhaps next time I can graduate to no shot putting of wooden stools.  Scared the shit out of my husband.  Thank god for good aim and sturdy floors.

I always say the hardest part about this disease is the fact that when you are good, feeling normal, you often think, “end it now, you feel good, go out on a good note”. 

Then you get manic and you are like, “do it now, you know what’s coming, an almost unbearable low”.

Then you end up here, inside the low and you were just fine and productive and happy, “end it now, this place is awful, I don’t have the strength to do this again”.

There’s really no definitive time you don’t feel like just ending it.  But you don’t. 

You stay the course.  You take stock of your life.  You realize what others don’t have and you do.  You make a list of positives, you are breathing, you have gorgeous hair, ass could be bigger, your back pain worse, you are smart and funny and beautiful.  And even if you don’t believe a one you are making an effort to sway your mind.  You think of all those that love you and need you and while you can’t think of a thing to place value on you know you cannot let those who are patient enough to love you down.  They think your special or they wouldn’t love you.  Don’t question why they do, just let them do it. 
 
 

Even saying that, “patient enough to love you”.  Makes a girl want to end it for the sake of her partner.  It doesn’t make you want to stay for her partner.  “Wouldn’t he be better off without me?”  “And those friends you can’t stop obsessing about when you are low; you gave them so much of yourself and they just let you fall, they don’t miss you?  Why stick around?  You miss them many a day, but they’ve gone on living like you didn’t exist, that hurts the most.  Damn ego.  But how much of an impact are you really having then?”

Please do not call 911.  I have a dog in my bed with me and a husband hiding around the corner saying, god bless him, “this is one of the best lows you’ve had in a long time, and you can do this”.  And I can, I’ve done it 4278 times before, sometimes alone, sometimes with friends, sometimes married. 

So trust me when I say if you are sad, I will, can, have, and will again, walk in your shoes and sympathize because I know how hard this walk is.    I am there for you if you need me because much like my foot says, “To hurt is to learn.  To teach is to heal”.

 

Well there ya go, always knew I was "special".

Be Kind to Yourself. 

Monday, December 16, 2013

SPRITZ

Whoopi Goldberg called it with the Poise commercial, (see URL below for your enjoyment UGH!), women "spritz".  I hated this ad when it came out.  Oh lord, I would lose my shizzle when it came on.  We women don't need to talk about this.  Keep this shit private.  This is no one's business.  You will find what you need at the pharmacy and it's probably labeled well enough you don't even need the pharmacist.  And I am pretty sure there is nothing you can do about it thus making it a necessity, therefore why advertise?  If you are pissing your pants, in all likelihood a girls gonna buy something to help.  The universe and those people at Poise never had to burden us with the Whoopster.


Things change.  Dramatically.

I am here to say....can't do it.

Okay this girl is going to admit....damn it!

I peed. *head low*

Whew, there I said it.  I peed.

This morning as I drove home with my coffee in my freezing car and my teeth chattering I sneeze coughed (the popular compilation of  both) and basically wet myself. 

DAMN IT this is embarrassing. 

It's happened before but I was hanging upside down drunk having fallen off my porch deck.  I was being held upside down  by a thread when my husband arrived out of nowhere at 2am and rescued me before I fell to my certain death.  At the time falling to my death seem too funny to bear, or maybe it was because my bladder was upside down, either way, I had to change the undies.  Not the pants, I haven't gotten that carried away yet.

I have a friend who always sneezes in threes and they're ridiculous sneezes FYI.  High pitch squeaks like it's coming out her ears in a cartoon so it's no surprise by the 3rd sneeze she always has her legs crossed squealing, "I pee when I sneeze, I pee when I sneeze".  I'd pee too if the only two holes that weren't clenched shut allowing air to escape were my ears and my whoo haw.  Only dogs can hear this sneeze.  I have laughed at this for YEARS!  Until this morning.  Damn her.   Karma is such a bitch, she always pays it forward.  My squeaker said it was from having babies.  She never told me it happens with menopause. 

If you print this picture you can have the children that ruined your bladder colour it in and stuff.

Apparently during menopause everything stops working or starts acting wonky.  Your uterus turns itself inside out.  Your ability to fight back wrinkles goes away (it's why Botox was invented and why women are willing to shoot poison into their face = menopause).  Hot flashes start and CANNOT be controlled.  For the record, they are not properly labeled as "power surges", you bunch of power surging assholes.  If this is a power surge then I am a nuclear reactor and I need my own cooling tower.  Oh and you might become a little testier than normal.  I just stayed the course.
 
Is that a turkey up her.....that might be taking "cool down" a little too literally for me.

What also makes this female journey into senior womanhood so enjoyable???  We get to pee our pants randomly.

Sneezed = pee.
Jesus that was funny = pee.
Coughed = pee.
Go for a brisk walk/run = pee.
Oh, and my personal favorite.  Just stood up = pee.

Fuck you mother nature, fuck you. 

Hey Adam, well played you miserable asshole, well played.  Like defiling Eve wasn't enough for you?  Like monthly periods weren't enough for you?  You work out a deal with Mother Nature that includes peeing ourselves later in life?  Your a gem Adam, a gem.

Hello, my name is Nicolle and I randomly wet myself.  I've been clean and dry for 20 minutes.  And yes I find this as embarrassing as you do, just thought I'd Whoopie it up today and share.  Start a healthy chat about peeing our pants.  What a way to start a Monday.

Ohhh I get it, if I slap this woman my symptoms will go away right????
 
Praise be.

Friday, December 13, 2013

SCARES ME TO DEATH

I am sorry to all you wonderful parents who play "Elf on the Shelf" with your kids.  That little doll scares the living shit out of me.  The face is over dramatic, then the arms and legs are oddly stick like.  I could draw better ones.  And then you hide the little fucker and he's supposed to be watching you?  Might as well put Chucky under my bed and say "boo" in the middle of the night from under there!

That smile says nothing more than, "I will kill you when you're sleeping...."

Then to humour me, along came, "Whore in the Drawer".  Oh how she made me smile.  Perhaps I felt a certain kinship, a bond per say between her and I, I don't know.  She's glorious and so real with her 44, 15, 22 dimensions.  Layin' all sexy like in her drawer with her Cap'n panty remover in hand.  She's all woman that one.  Maybe she's not totally anatomically correct but least she's got hands and feet, elbows, knees etc.  I will take a whore over an elf any day.

Classy wee bitch she is. 

Then tonight my friend posts this below.  I thought the Elf on the Shelf was the scariest thing I would see this Christmas and then this little bastard arrived.  According to my friend, it's Elf on the Shelf and Whore in the Drawers love child.  I am pretty sure Whore would have vetoed the pregnancy but maybe the dates got away from her.  Either way, I am not sleeping tonight, or ever. 

*shiver*  It's like ET meets, that Lord of the Ring "my precious" creature, meets Elf on the Shelf and they all made a baby aka deposits with Whore in the Drawer and this is what came out to haunt me to death. 
 

DAMN IT.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

The Hiccups

Had I labeled this post, "Meditation", I'd have lost the few that actually read this.  I am going to keep it really, really, short.  By using double words like that, short.

Today I had the hiccups and I hate them.  And I have had them in the past until I am almost throwing up because they lasted so long.  I get frustrated as I cannot get rid of them, which knots up and stiffens your diaphragm more, and keeps them going and going and going until your only (my only) recourse is some sort of big pharma knock me out pill.  Can't have the hiccups when you are passed out, muscles relaxed, cold now can you?

A hiccup (/ˈhɪkəp/ HIK-əp; also spelled hiccough) is an involuntary contraction (myoclonic jerk) of the diaphragm that may repeat several times per minute. In medicine it is known as synchronous diaphragmatic flutter (SDF), or singultus, Latin for the act of catching one's breath while sobbing.[1] The hiccup is an involuntary action involving a reflex arc.[1] Once triggered, the reflex causes a strong contraction of the diaphragm followed about 0.25 seconds later by closure of the vocal cords, which results in the classic "hic" sound. At the same time, the normal peristalsis of the esophagus is suppressed.[citation needed]
Hiccups may occur individually, or they may occur in bouts. The rhythm of the hiccup, or the time between hiccups, tends to be relatively constant.
A bout of hiccups, in general, resolves itself without intervention, although many home remedies are often used to attempt to shorten the duration.[2] Medical treatment is occasionally necessary in cases of chronic hiccups. 
Yeah, what they said above.
 
 

I've shivved someone for less.

If a pill will relax the diaphragm that much why the fuck can't I?  I am a big strong girl.  I have willpower.  I quit smoking and gained 30 pounds, that's some serious eating commitment there!  I broke up with a guy when I realized I wasn't his only girlfriend.  Do you know how hard that decision was?  I quit drinking just out of the blue one day.  Course that was a day after I had found myself waking up in the dog's bed.  I have strength of commitment people.

As many of you, those that read anything I write, know, I have taken some meditation classes for pain (injured back) and anxiety (the desire to kill strangers especially when in Toronto in my car).  I haven't followed it totally, I am not a die hard.  However, now and again, I sit down and meditate for 10 to 20 minutes.  While I stretch after a workout, I do the exercises of breathing and focusing my attention.  And when in Toronto with the idiots, I breathe, a lot.  More than most.  "Breathe in, big breath, blow out, big breath".  Lives have been saved.
I love how she's looking at her killer hands with a grin.  "All is lovely with the world".  And I am the crazy one?

When I got the hiccups today I did a little trick the leader of the cult, oooops I mean meditation course, taught us.  I focused entirely, eyes closed, no judgement of passing thoughts and focused on the hiccup itself.  Where it came from, how it felt, where it was in the body and I breathed, big breath in, big breath out.  It was no more than 3 hiccups and they were gone.  They were gone!!!  I, Nicolle Diane Weir, cured the hiccups.  I meditated, or for the amateurs out there, breathed my way out of them.  It works with the itchies too.  Got an itch.? Focus everything you have on the itch, think of nothing else, don't judge when your thoughts go elsewhere, bring them back gently to the itch.  Breathe in and breathe out, and you may just stop an itch.  Now if the itch is caused by crabs or fleas, that's doctor shit only.  I can't cure that shit.  *shiver*

I much prefer this to drinking from the back of a cup apparently through my mouth.  Which always ends up my nose, and I almost choke to death.  3 minutes later, sitting pretty, once my diaphragm flips back into position..."hiccup".  "Mother trucker!!!!"

I like to wear this outfit when I have the hiccups.

Can't hurt to try right?  It's only breathing. If it doesn't work for you don't hate mail me.  It may only work for those dedicating their lives to a calmer lifestyle.  AKA non working lazy asses like me.

Monday, December 9, 2013

I'm Sorry

I recently met up with an old friend.  A dear friend with whom I had parted ways.  No reason beyond life and distance but Facebook being the friend finder it can be, reunited us.  To say it was lovely is an understatement.  We are kinda in love with each other.  Not in a sexual way, in a wanna be your bestie kind of way.  I think we hugged 7-8 times in 24 hours.  I am not a huge hugger.  The only reason I didn't curl up in her bed and stay up chatting was because I snore much like a logger.  I didn't want to do that to her. 

What I noticed almost immediately with my friend was her need to apologize to me, a lot.  For everything, and anything.  Whether it was a story being told in the wrong order of time, or a bump into each other in the kitchen, or maybe not having salt out.  "Oh sorry", was said a lot.

In listening to her talk, (we never shut up for 18 hours), she said the words "I am sorry" hundreds of times.  Hundreds.

Her story isn't an easy one to hear.  We've all had our life battles, mine wasn't easy and neither was hers.  Sometimes during her story I found myself stunned silent.  And then she would apologize for that.  I kept telling her that keeping the story straight, in the right order, didn't matter and not to apologize. That I would ask if I couldn't get it straight.

I had a friend who told me to stop apologizing in the last year or so.  A friend and I were falling apart and I was grasping for help, for anyone to listen, to guide me, to save me and then I would feel guilty and bad and I would apologize.  She told me I would never be truly happy until I stopped needing to say I was sorry for things I said or did.  I had to stop apologizing for my existence.

And there I sat watching someone I loved, apologize not just for content or actions, for basically anything.  She had become timid and quiet.  Reserved.  Now I get that we are adults now.  When I knew her we were in our early 30s, late 20s.  We are both now married, she has a daughter, I my step kids.  Life is different but the apologies, they hurt me every time she said one.  I now know why, I've figured it out because, as you know, I am a genius that way.

During the tumultuous time in her life she learned that saying sorry was easier than a fight.  To fight kept the tension going, kept the fight alive.  Beating someone who is apologizing isn't as fun as beating someone who's screaming "I'm sorry".  I am not saying she was beaten, not at all.  I am saying she learned how to stop a fight by not engaging, by being the fall guy, the person to blame.

What I further learned was, in repeating the words "I am sorry" you feel sorry. You can't change that unless you are a sociopath and don't feel what you say.  Saying sorry makes you feel sorry.  And with that comes guilt, shame, and a feeling of not being good enough in that moment so you apologize for it.  You degrade yourself each time you say you are sorry as an auto response from a traumatic past. You are harming yourself.

Now I am not saying not to say sorry when you are being an ass or when you've made a legitimate mistake eg: bumping into someone, a Canadian favorite, "sorry eh".  But what I am saying is, if you are an auto apologizer, you need to stop every time you go to say it and ensure there is something to be legitimately sorry for. 

Make sure when you say sorry you have something to be sorry for or else you are doing yourself self harm and you know our motto around here;

Be Kind to Yourself.

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

THE ROOM

For pain suffering, both mental and physical, one needs to find time to be calm, to breathe, to just "be".  That's not easy with ADHD, OCD and all the other perks of being crazy as a loon.  I mean in the past my brain just never stopped, least now I can stare blankly at something but even then, my focal point typically is on something I can't shake out of my head.  So how do you turn off? 


This is genius.  Do you walk your dog or your thoughts?  Think about it. *snicker*

Seriously, how do YOU do it?  (A curious mind wants to know).

Last winter I took a course which basically, and entirely, ended up being about being in "the NOW".  Right now in this moment as I type to you. 

Fingers are typing.  Check.
Fast. Check.
No pain there.  Check.
Brain functioning.  Check.
Body is warm and comfy.  Check

I am going to stop there because that's all I really need in "the NOW" isn't it?  Do I need to go into that I am not hungry, I have money in the bank, a roof over my head, a husband who adores me, kids who are the loves of my lives, a dog I don't want to live without.....I mean, that's all just icing on "the NOW" cake. 

Now, I understand as you read this, you could have tears rolling down your eyes because your now isn't "all that". Then I want you to remember this;
 
It is what it is, only while it is, then it isn't, then it's something different.

It won't be "all that" forever.  Maybe a minute, a day, a week, it will be something entirely different if you allow it to be so.

Yes it simplifies life but life isn't meant to be as hard as we make it out to be.  We focus on tragedy after tragedy barely scraping by them and forget that in between those we could have let go of it and lived happily. 

Look at a cancer patient.  I have a friend battling it right now.  And I know in between treatments she is angry and frustrated with how sick she feels but she is also, "ENJOYING EVERY SECOND OF LIFE" because.....  What if we didn't wait until we had cancer and just remember in between every crack in the road we just let go and tried to smile about nothing?  A bird, a flower, a dog doing something silly.  Just bask in that moment of peace.  Ever seen a sick person just smile and catch yourself wondering how?  Because they have put aside that illness and got into the now of some moment we aren't a part of but probably could be, if we allowed it. 

Stop and smell the roses.  They did.  You just walked right past them.

Could you pass this right by?  There, by itself, in someone's yard.  Would you stop and smell it?  I would.  Now.  Not the old me.

I took a meditation course this past summer and along with remembering life is less stressful in "the now" it teaches you how to calm down, be with your breath only, nothing else, just "there", "present", "in the moment".  I hadn't done any practise of it since I left the course.  I learned enough I thought. 

WRONG.

I caught myself lost in a negative moment of history with a past friend the other day.  Again, I was told something that wasn't true, maybe it's his truth, but it's not mine.  And it hurt, and it made me mad and I started to obsess about it.  So I went online and found some things to watch with him on them and I remembered my admiration of him and some things he is doing and found a positive place again.  I even sent him a positive twitter message.  I could not have climbed out of the "why did he do that to me" place this fast, if I hadn't of meditated this morning.

This morning I did a meditation called "The Room".  A beautiful voice takes you into your "ideal room space".  You design all your favorite things in your head and you walk into your room.  In this room is you.  You greet you.  And you just be in the room with yourself.  And as I always do I find myself comforting myself.  Telling myself how special I am, how beautiful and smart.  Worthy.  I smile.  Sometimes I cry even, tears of happiness.  I am in my favorite place with an amazing person.  Why wouldn't I be happy.  And when I come out, I want all things negative to be positive again.  I remember how honestly worthy I am and don't often allow myself to see.  It's a beautiful head space to be in. 

How they got in my head I don't know.  Only thing missing is green palm leaves, sand and ocean in the view out the curtains.

Whether you believe in meditation or not, matters none.  What matters is, right NOW.  It's all that really matters.  Then there will be another NOW and one after that.  And what is, only is, while it is, then it won't be. 

Do you meditate?  Do you live in the now?  Try it sometime, it's a nice place to be when you remember to visit.  Imagine living there!  No wonder that Dalai fella is always smiling.