Thursday, June 30, 2011

Self-sabotage, loving yourself and NOT BEING SO DAMN CRAZY.

I've done this about a hundred times--- I run my hands across the contents of my closet, touching the fabrics, feeling for comfort and weight, then gingerly, like a ballet dancer preparing her pointe shoes- I pick an outfit, the outfit that he will break up with me in.

Something easy-- something, you know, effortlessly wonderful. That skims the curves of my body just enough, in case I have to walk away. Something memorable, but not too over-the-top. Something....that says, in a whisper, "you'll regret this later." Which naturally means, "makes my ass look wonderful and brings out the bronze overtones in my skin."

I drive up to meet him and play through how it has to go; cards tightly held in my sweaty hands... no tears. Definitely no tears. A sort of calm reserve to the "way things will unfold..." a quiet surrender. A chin held high. I play it all out.

....then, he greets me at the door as loving and as ready for me and US as always and I snap back into the reality of the situation, which is; he isn't breaking up with me (you fucking idiot.) He isn't running out. He isn't harboring secrets in places I haven't found yet----those are stories in my HEAD. This unforgiving, overactive MIND that is strangling, slowly, my life force.

I do this, see?

I do this thing where--I always ask you too many questions, fishing for red flags that point to devastation. I'll extract every ounce of inflection, intent, structure of the sentence and I'll chew on it, rolling these helpless words around the sharp incisors of my rabidly hungry mind , until it's this sort of nondescript mush of what was once a simple, likely-forgettable, thought.

I'm teetering between Totally In Control and Out of my Fucking Mind and sometimes, I don't know how to stop it.

I'm realizing---sometimes life doesn't DO what you want it to, but whatever winds of change come crashing through your imaginary rose garden, I MUST refuse to be the catalyst, of annihilating something before it can be 'so good'... I cannot continue to sabotage my own evolution....and in turn, happiness.

When a traffic jam halts the flow of my day, or a check comes a week too late---when "the plan," ends up being an IDEA instead of a reality, which inevitably happens--I refuse to be the reason it all "fell apart," instead, I am a contently peaceful observer in the unexpected advances. ADVANCES= forward motion= growth.

When things are changing in unexpected ways I will think of them as subtle, UPGRADES--better than my original "plan." I refuse to perceive everything as working AGAINST me and rather, as working creatively for me and the betterment of my SOUL.

What is it that that you're hanging on to??? Do you really believe that you aren't wildly, succulently LOVABLE and LOVED---that you aren't EMPLOYABLE, INNOVATIVE, VISIONARY??? That you aren't deserving, ABUNDANT, taken-fucking-care.OF. Why don't you know that are all of those things?? Come on, child.

You ARE all of those things. You. Me. Collectively, us.

So stop that shit. STOP IT. STOP. IT. STOP. IT. You master Saboteur. The title isn't fitting on you.

You can't start trying to change yourself so that you can love yourself, or your life, or your have to love yourself FIRST, in order for the change to happen, perhaps, change isn't the word-TRANSFORMATION......that's better.

You hear that, Chels? Pretty hard to hear when your head is lodged so far up fears stinky little ass, eh?

Do you ever SABOTAGE your "GOOD?" and WHY?

Thursday, June 9, 2011


Last night, my dream mantra was "CELEBRATE."

While, I wasn't sure why I kept seeing the word everywhere, I'm never one to turn down a good party-- and the highest form of gratitude, enthusiasm and EUPHORIA is to say, "hip hip hooray!!!!" regardless of circumstance....because at the very least, I know I live in a place where.....

I've got one ticket, to a roller coaster ride where dips are there to remind me that there's butterflies inside my stomach- to keep me humble and awake- where Diana Ross glam queens belt high Cs and the likes of Babe Paley's and Edie Sedgwick's are bantering in the corner car to keep things interesting- where rolling hills of candy factories serve as a background and every dip is a varying degree of Rainbow.

Where it doesn't matter whether I'm thinking inside the box, or out because wherever I am is draped head-to-toe in swirling compositions, shining prisms and Christmas ornaments, that reflect the light perfectly.

Where shades of gray are left for the soles of my dancing shoes and the clasp on my handbags. Where we have dance parties to glam-rock, while eating blueberries naked, with the windows wide open, while we dig through the dusty boxes in our brain that remembers the Jem theme song and we draw hot pink half moons on our eyes, then tip our hat at Lady Gaga for making adult face painting cool again.

Where we make 6 batches of Lemon Bars because we FUCKING CAN and because whoever gets to touch the fleshy parts will love you anyway and they'll love you even more when they're in a sugar induced euphoria caused by YOU, you're their sugar Queen.

Where every conversation we enter into makes us feel newly polished, satiated and cosmically DIVINE.

Where once and for all seeking approval of others isn't only a distant memory, but it's a sin upon the sacred CELESTIAL spirit that is encased within that transient exterior, that you have so finely perfected for the time and we can say, "AHHHH...." because we FINALLY understand that we are and always were, SUBLIMELY COMPLETE.

Where we buy balloons instead of lilies, or actually, where we buy both- where champagne is meant to be consumed, where the word "CELEBRATE" is instructed, just because.
Where reservations are unnecessary, because no matter where it is, they'll be delighted that you showed up. Where we always have a pen, a piece of paper and stoplight long enough to capture fleeting inspiration, or at the very least a person to say, "that should go in a blog."

Where Earth Angels appear in the form of snow days, life-elevating propositions, unexpected packages with Pixie Sticks on top, wild flowers and Chinese Fire Drills-- last one in the car gets to buy all of us a dozen sprinkled doughnuts.

Where everyone is granted a ridiculous nickname that can never be written, because it can't be pronounced and is said only by the most adoring of admirers. WHERE WE ARE REMINDED on a daily- that we are worthy, worth admiring and we are cherished as someones "absolute favorite creature."

Where I am a Kid and Life is a Candy Store.

Where you "let it go" for the sake of letting it grow, instead--it's okay for the ego to get demoted to the backseat for tonight. Where somewhere, someone is thinking of something even more fantastically mythical than a Unicorn.

Where Optimism, Random Acts of Kindness and Bravery are not virtues, they are inherent to the law of existing. Where you will strive for nothing else than to find your most AWESOME rendition of Self and you will take that Self salsa dancing, then tuck it in bed after a tipsy night of drunken-self love. Where you will REFUSE to join the Square Bears when you're actually a melange of zoo animals, all shapes and sizes.

Where you will bring SOMETHING to the table-- whatever bizarre obsession, quirk or fascination that may be and you will OFFER IT UP, confidently as you were made to....

...where I give myself authority to expect the splendorous absurdity of asking for such things from myself and from all of you and I bask in it.



Thursday, June 2, 2011


I am writing this blog from a hammock. Yes. A hammock.

As if there isn't enough of a reason to find writing from a hammock suitable, I will say that, it's also slightly dangerous for both my body and my computer...and I kind of like living on the edge...which brings me to another point entirely;

...while I'm swinging back and forth here, unsteady and a little unsure of what's going to happen next in my "story"- the weather is that perfect kind of balmy that the onset of summer teases us with, there's just enough of a breeze to cue the background orchestra of tall neighborhood trees, doing their thing, rustling in sync. Fresh cut grass, the smell of chives, English lavender and lilacs mingle in the ether and My Love picks bundles of thick purple asparagus and Swiss Chard to cook up, "look baby! We're going to eat this!" The childlike-gleam in his eye that's still amazed we can grow our own food and eat it.

My point is, I see it all. I smell it. I NOTICE. What's happening around me, right at this second that is perfect.

It would be really easy for me to get discouraged right now. To bellyache, to over plan in an attempt to find some comfort in the unseen twists and turns and ya know what? Usually, I am so Goddamn wrapped up in the "next," and the hustle, and the general lack of faith in my future that I've gotten used to surviving in this general state of, "worried."
I spend an unfortunate amount of time being absolutely riddled with this unshakable worry that I. just. won't. figure. it out. and you know what? It's fucking exhausting.

What's happening next? Who do I need to call that I haven't? Who should I be emailing? What best-seller have I yet to write? What way have I not yet considered that is going to be the key to abundant wealth and validation!? What pitch, what idea, what person have I not met, not considered, not CONJURED UP- WHAT AM I MISSING?!?!

Ah, yes- what you're missing? You aren't missing anything, but you're missing everything right now.

When you're busy talking about how "lost," how "uninspired," you aren't listening if guidance were to appear- to seeds of inspiration. When you're looking for the next destination, whether you're Googling it, or frantically scrolling through your iPhone for "Best Margarita spots within five miles" you've driven past three perfectly suitable patios, you've missed approximately 15 minutes of that story he was telling you, you've decided that the majority of your options "aren't good enough," and you've generally lost the point entirely. I know this because, I am this and frankly, sometimes I'm a pretty fucking miserable, asshole. I mean, I can be heinously difficult and discontent and it's not fun to be around for any party involved, myself included.
There's a difference between living on the edge and being the edge, especially if the edges are getting a little too sharp.

Today is about this hammock. And this weather, THE ABILITY TO BE HERE. OUTSIDE. BREATHING, eating a Costco size bag of Craisins, surprise kisses from the man I adore on my forehead in between planting new patches of raspberries, peach trees and potatoes. I see it. I smell. I hear. I'm here. Softening.

The phrases; it's just hard right now, things are difficult, I'm feeling stuck, I'm a little lost- are all banned from my vocabulary- I say them too often, thus I enforce them as fact when they really aren't they're bellyaching, they're discouraged, they're irritating- they're done.
I can be fully present, fully ambitious and fully inspired- I can exercise gratitude for the things that I have and the things I do not have, (thank you for not making me a Pussycat Doll even though this was once an actual, serious, and close goal- hindsight is 20/20.) There's a difference between persevering or being driven and being hard, which is simply, sometimes being, immovable.

I hope whatever you're going through, wherever your brain is today (thinking about tomorrow,) that you can find softness, NOTICE. see.