Often our bodies give us all the information we need to be healthy, happy, and sane. 

When I have eaten enough for my needs, my body tells me it is satisfied.  If I eat beyond that point my body is uncomfortable. 

When I'm in situations that cause me stress my body reacts with surges of hormones, muscle spasms, headaches, and a host of other signals telling me to get out, slow down, and protect myself.  If I ignore these symtoms I'm at risk to develop any number of health issues from heart disease and diabetes to lines and wrinkles from my perpetual frown.

The message of the last several chapters of Eckhart Tolle's book has been to listen to your body.  Listen to what's happening.  Understand that you are not your circumstances.  You don't have to choose pain.  The fact that certain thoughts and actions provoke pain in us is not an invitation to dwell there and bemoan our fate, it is a signal to get out of that cycle of negative thinking.  Move on.  Forgive others as we wish to be forgiven. 

It's such a pwerful thought it kind of makes me wonder why no one has suggested it before ...

For me, saying, "I need a rest" is a difficult and courageous thing to do.  I fear being seen as lazy or irresponsible.  I fear judgment.  And I know precisely where this fear comes from.  I have been conditioned through a series of life events to think this way.

So I barrel on through, most of the time.  I tough it out.  I make sure everyone else is cared for first. 

Two incidents this week called to my attention just how out of balance I am in this regard.  On Wednesday night the boys and I had dinner with friends.  Our hostess made dinner and served it.  Afterward, our host cleaned the dishes while she and I discussed our writing projects.  It was everything I could do not to hop up and help with the clean up.  It just felt so wrong for someone else to be doing that chore, even in their own house, that it was a major distraction from the point and purpose of the evening. 

The second incident was this morning.  My best friend came over in time to share breakfast with me and the boys.  So I made the pancakes, made the bacon and then because Tucker is a bacon FREAK I had a second or third (I kind of lost count) pan of bacon cooking while everyone else was eating.  Finally, my friend said, "Will you just eat your breakfast?  I'll watch the bacon."  I did but enjoying my food while someone else was working in my kitchen was almost impossible.

Only almost impossible because I was pretty hungry by that time so I managed to stay in my seat.  My body was telling me that I was hungry and keeping in mind that by this point everyone else had eaten and enjoyed seconds, my mind was still telling me to ignore my feeling of hunger and keep working in the kitchen because that's what good girls do.

I'm realizing that I can either please my mind and be "good" by some warped standard that I'm not sure anyone else would recognize as "good."  Or I can listen to my body, give it rest, take my turn, relax a little, and be a lot healthier.

Come to think of it, my body and my inner child both seem to want similar things.

*******

The workshop this afternoon was fantastic.  The presenter was Sci-Fi author Laura Mixon.  We were joined in the last hour by her husband, Steve Gould, author of Jumpers which a few weeks ago was the number one film at the box office.   

Instruction on craft was excellent, and the discussion was lively.  At times we ranged a little off topic to include such things as the philosophy of the American Criminal Justice system and whether or not it's necessary for a story to always and overtly be about the battle between good and evil, but for the most part it was nuts and bolts craft talk. 

I love the Albuquerque creative community.  What a cool place to live and be.  What a cool opportunity for me. 

*******

While I was at the writing workshop, Michael and Tucker were at the Active Imagination gaming emporium.  They apparently had an awesome time and can't wait for me to have another workshop. 

It's the first Saturday of the month and that means the South West Writers are sponsoring another workshop.  YUMMY!  This one is on writing fantasy.  Sign me up!

I hope you're all having a fantabulous day.

Somewhere inside us all, there's a child. 

I met my child several years ago and discovered that she's really cool.  She laughs.  Likes to lie on the grass and look at tiny flowers as they move gently back and forth (especially purple and blue ones).  She likes to dance.  She likes colors and can be fascinated for hours by the way that light shines through stained glass. 

Like other small children, she requires safety, nurture, and encouragement. 

This means that I can't keep telling her, "Not know, I'm working, go play in someone else's yard" or she will become sad.  She needs me to take care and make sure that she gets enough sleep, good healthy things to eat, attractive toys to play with, and a regular bath time. 

Most of all, she needs a safe place. 

She needs a home where she doesn't have to watch over her shoulder, where anger and pain aren't constant guests, where it's okay for her to be herself without fear of criticism or mockery.  (She likes soft things, rugs, cushions, blankets, and stocking feet are good.) 

One thing I've learned to do for her is say, "no".  Not as often as she would like, but far more often than I did before I realized how important it was to her.  I say no to all kinds of demands that would leave her buffeted, stressed, and tired.  I say "no" to people who aren't kind to "us".  And I listen to her when she tells me that it's too scary and she doesn't want to do this thing or that.  (I also listen when she comes giggling and wants to climb the tree or play hide and seek, so it works all ways here.) 

I am a woman of courage.
I am loved and protected.
I use my wise imagination to create a safe harbor for myself.

Regardless of what you say or do or what face you show to the world, your mental-emotional state cannot be concealed.  Every human being emanates an energy field that corresponds to his or her inner state, and most people can sense it ...

Have you ever been in someone's presence and for absolutely no reason you could put your finger on you started feeling uptight, irritable, angry or scared? 

The Donkster today posted about emotional vampires, and they are some really scary critters indeed.  I want to talk to you about emotional cuckoos.  You know the birds who don't raise their own young but lay their eggs on other people's nests?  So the unsuspecting new parents wind up feeding the interlopers bringing more and more worms and other tasty goodies until the cuckoo baby has grown to three of four times the size of the legitimate babies at which point the cuckoo casually extends a knobby knee and kicks the other little babies out of the nest.

Well, that's what these emotional cuckoos do.  They can't handle the work of their own emotions so they say things like, "I'm not angry, I'm not sad, I'm not depressed ..." even though you kind of suspect that they might be all those things.  But when you aren't looking they lay their emotional eggs in your mind and spirit and the next thing you know you are emoting in ways that make no sense.  Your own feelings of calm, happiness, and contentment are booted out leaving you feeling their anger, feeling their sadness while they sit there and sip iced tea. 

Do you know people like that?

Live with someone like that?

May God help you. 

As long as that person refuses to acknowledge or feel his or her emotional state, as long as they continue to unconsciously emanate.  The best you can do is keep slipping them sleeping pills. 

When You're Late (Again)

All the warmth
gone from the coffee
pooled in the bottom
of the cup, or drying
in a brown splash circle
on the counter where it dripped
when I poured the second
so you arrive, with an excuse
and I'm cool as the dregs
determined not to be appeased
(this time)
I'm invested, long on annoyance,
short on being here with you
I rehearse the story 
of steam as it rose, drifted away.
You drip poems between us.  Have you
heard this one?  Listen to the phrase
turned over at that end. 
Now my story includes Jesus,
Baudelaire, and cummings
I don't remember that I'm cool
I'm drunk on words and puncutation
on the sound of the paper
giving up cleverness and
the scent of ink from your new pen. 
I warm the food, and give you
the gift I brought
before you were late
(again.)

My sister got me.  I was in the midst of being busy with work and she called and said, "Look I just want to give you the heads up that Mom and Dad have decided to surprise you so they are on their way to New Mexico."

Having Mom and Dad drop in for a "little visit" is the kind of understatement you'd have on your hands if you said that the Titanic had a little problem with the ice maker. 

On the other hand, I managed to simultaneously empty the litter box, clean my bathroom, sweep the entryway, hide the booze, and wash the mud off a pair of shoes that haven't been cleaned since I got stuck in Miss Eva's driveway two months ago! 

Good One, Cheryl.  I owe you. 

My day started off foolishly and it seems to be continuing in that direction.  I'm anticipating silliness, surreality, and surprise to be the hallmarks of the whole endeavor. 

I hope you're having fun!