These Expectations!

I am feeling sad right now.  For the past few weeks, I have endeavoured to get some things done around my house.  Some things were done.  Some things will be completed in September.

What makes me sad is unkindness.  To living things.  People, animals.  And being foul.  Last week, a local restaurant hung a really foul tee-shirt up.  I can not and will not show you a photo of this.  I would be beyond embarassed and you should be, too.

What kind of people think of humor like this?  Maybe they also make ethnic jokes?  I go through spurts where I really need to stay away from some people.  And this is one of those times.  I also know we can change of foci and I am doing just that as I type this note to you.

My little granddaughter is beginning to sit up.  She is 17 weeks old.  Quite stubborn.  Determined.  And laughs a whole bunch.  I will see her soon and it won't be soon enough.

It is hard to be away from her.  It seems so much of my life is upside down sometimes.  But times are changing and people want so very much in their lives.  It comes at a cost.

I do not know how mothers can work full time.  It has to be a heartbreaker.  I know it is for me.  My daughter wants more than anything to be home with her baby.  But then, there is the balance.  She is stuck at home.  I say stuck because she can't seem to get out enough.  Naps and routines tend to take over.  So do babies who refuse to nap.  My daughter was one of them.  It was exhausting and now she has one who refuses to nap and then gets overtired and becomes hysterical.  I remind her regularly that these phases come and go.  So do our attitudes about them.

As I look at my way-too-quiet life, I am saddened by all of this.  Why can't life be easier?  Why can't we expect less of it?  Why, why, why?

I am also sad when I leave my beloved home.  Sad that I won't be in my space where I can do what I please with whom I please.  And joyful that I can travel!  See my family and come home again.

I am truly lucky indeed.

What Do You Think?

Defense is the first act of war. When people used to say, “Katie, you don’t listen,” I would immediately bristle and respond, “Of course I listen! How dare you say that! Who do you think you are? I listen!” I didn’t realize that I was the one making war by defending myself. And I was the one who could end it. It doesn’t take two people to end war; it takes only one.

The ego hates criticism and loves agreement. Actually, for the ego, love is nothing more than agreement. A relationship is two people who agree with each other’s stories. If I agree with you, you love me. And the minute I don’t agree with you, the moment I question one of your sacred beliefs, I become your enemy; you divorce me in your mind. Then you start looking for all the reasons why you’re right, and you stay focused outside yourself. When you’re focused outside and believe that your problem is caused by someone else, rather than by your attachment to the story you’re believing in the moment, you are your own victim, and the situation appears to be hopeless.

Your partner is your mirror. Except for the way you perceive him, he doesn’t even exist for you. He is who you see he is, and ultimately it’s just you again, thinking. It’s just you, over and over and over, and in this way you remain blind to yourself and feel justified and lost. To think that your partner is anything but a mirror of you is painful. So when you see him as flawed in any way, you can be sure that that’s where your own flaw is. The flaw has to be in your thinking, because you’re the one projecting it. You are always what you judge us to be in the moment. There’s no exception. You are your own suffering; you are your own happiness.

There’s no way to truly join your partner except by getting free of your belief that you need something from him that he’s not giving. Nothing can cost you someone you love. There’s nothing your husband can possibly do to keep you from loving him. The only way you can lose him is by believing what you think. You’re one with your husband until you believe that he should look a certain way, he should give you something, he should be something other than what he is. That’s how you divorce him. Right then and there, you have lost your marriage.

Of course, sometimes it’s best to physically leave. If your husband is abusive, question your thoughts about why you stay. As you enlighten yourself to what’s true, you may come to see that the only sane choice is to leave him. You may love him with all your heart and simply know not to live with him. We don’t have to be fearful, bitter, or angry to end a marriage. Or, if you’re not ready to leave, you may stay in the marriage, but with a greater awareness of how you’re abusing yourself by allowing him to abuse you. It’s like a yard with a big sign on the gate: THIS DOG BITES. If you walk into the yard once and are bitten, the dog has bitten you. If you walk into the yard a second time and are bitten, you have bitten you. This very awareness can change everything. By questioning your mind, you begin to realize that ultimately no one can hurt you—only you can. You see that you are 100 percent responsible for your own happiness. This is very good news.

If my husband were to have an affair and that were not okay with me, I would say, “Sweetheart, I understand that you’re having an affair, and I notice that when you do that, something inside me tends to move away from you. I don’t know what that is, I only know that it’s so; it mirrors your movement away from me, and I want you to know that.” And then if he were to continue his affair, to prefer to spend his time with another woman, I might notice that I was moving away, but I wouldn’t have to leave him in anger. There is nothing I can do to stay with him, and there is nothing I can do to divorce him. I’m not running this show. I might stay with him, or I might divorce him in a state of total love, and think, This is fascinating; we promised we would be together always, and I’m divorcing him now, and I would probably laugh, love that he has what he wants, and move on, because there is no war in me.

It doesn’t take two people to end war in a marriage; it takes only one. And if two people have ended it, life can be twice as beautiful.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/byron-katie/it-only-takes-one-to-have_b_9810602.html

Cheap, Cheap!

Cheap!

There is one coffee shop I visit regularly.  The owner is well nigh known for being cheap. When she first came to town, her arrogance overwhelmed, hurt a few of the shop owners.  People were not impressed with her food.  Some offer a nick name "Chitty xx" for the store.

It is rare to enter her store where she would come over and offer a kind gesture.  Ask a customer to sample a food.  I let that go easily enough.  But what is really interesting is that she doesn't see herself.   She wears a shirt that says," Let's Make American Kind Again."  I try not to laugh.

Just the other morning, I was at the coffee shop at 8 a.m. when they are due to open. They are almost always open on time.  It was 8:20 a.m. until the woman arrived to open the shop. A home emergency made her late and I surely would never say a thing.  Life happens to all of us.  But I would honor my customer when those things occur.

It was well after 8:30 a.m. when she finally made me a vanilla latte.  $3.15.  I waited over thirty minutes for a latte.  Most of it outside.  I even encouraged her customers to wait because this was an unusual occurrence.

But what the clerk did made me think.  Most shops would comp a regular customer when they are this late.  Not this woman.  Not this shop.  $3.15 please.

A day later, I used my coffee card to get my FREE latte.  After ten lattes, the next one is free.  While the clerk was preparing my latte, I picked up a blank coffee card for my next visits.  I am a very good and consistent customer.  I bring friends here for coffee and for lunch. But this time the clerk asked what size latte I usually get.  I stopped to think a bit about this and told her I mostly get a small, but sometimes a medium.  I told her a medium would be fine.  They should incent their loyal customers with an occasional treat.  I do buy small because I don't like a lot of caffeine.

For five years, no one questioned the size of the free latte.  I have coffee cards for other places I visit in other towns and cities.  I am a good latte customer.  This all has changed.  Yesterday I handed them the blank coffee card and they punched it.  I didn't notice until last night when I was cleaning out my wallet that they marked the top VAN LATTE, SM on the top.

Cheap, cheap.  You are teaching me very quickly where I want to spend my money. Yes, LETs MAKE AMERICA KIND AGAIN.  Look in the mirror and start with yourself.

Thank you for the lesson.  cheap, cheap.

Excuse Me!

Excuse me!

Since when did a newspaper access the right to share my personal e-mail?

Apparently, my subscription online as well as the subscriptions of other online folks was due to expire.  So rather than bcc their customers, they chose to share them.

Once you share my personal e-mail or any of my personal information, any relationship we had ceases to exist.

But it won't end there.  I will share your behavior to this end, too.

Film Families

A heavy rain last night forced the tree pollen to the ground.  One fallen Bradford pear along the road near my house spoke of strong winds again last night.  The freshly scented air revealed blue skies and cloud puffs and lots of sunshine. Temperatures are much cooler with lower humidity.  A welcoming treat this Friday morning.

Another welcoming treat was the film crew who has been in town for a couple of weeks.  They are in town filming a story of murder in a small town.  And police more involved with the foul treatment of black citizens than finding the culprit.

Sets are unique.  Often a strong comaraderie exists.  Lots of encouragement from producers, directors and the crew.  The encouragement is both top down and bottom up.  Of course, everyone knows there is no 'bottom' only lots of talented people choreographed to bring to the big screen a story. Albeit, a big budget one.

Warm hugs, pats on the backs and handshakes abound.  The crew is full of smiles, appreciative of our small town and continually thanking us for being so gracious to them.  We are a gracious town and that is what attracted me here.  People genuinely care about one another.  We genuinely care about the crew and their comfort level here.

A location manager told me he is pulling together a group of crew members for a trip down the Tuckaseegee River this weekend.  He wants people to get out of their high stressed work and feel the goodness and nature here in the Nantahala National Forest.  He said he is staying locally and enjoys the quiet of the mountain.  A huge change from busy Los Angeles city living.

We are thankful for the heavy rain.  We hope it reduces both pollen and stress level.  And, we are grateful to see such loving film families enjoying the abundance of western North Carolina.

Tasteless Restaurant

One of the things I enjoy about small town living is getting to know the people who work and frequent it.

Just the other day a friend who works in a restaurant told me a story  The friend was hired full time.  The owner has a beautiful home and enjoys the fruits of an abundant lifestyle.  The worker, however, does not.

All too often we hear about the CEOs and upper management in Fortune 500 companies.  We hear the executives of these companies make enormous salaries, with enormous bonuses.  The people working in the lower tiers do not.  We complain about it as though it is a crime.  It is no different in a small business. For some reason, we don't hear very much about these environments.  It is no different and it is time we realize what goes on there, too.

This friend who was enjoying full time work had their hours cut.  They were cut 30%.  The worker told me they had not been able to go to a grocery store in two months.  They can't afford gas and their car is not working too well, either.  

Of course, I do not know the other side of the story.  I suspect there is some disharmony.  But I have to wonder what kind of owner would do this.  Knowing the owner as I do, I see another side.  A wealthy lifestyle, going like a bat out of hell to make a lot of money and forgetting the customers who frequent their restaurant.  For my part in this, I rarely go in their establishment anymore.

This one way ticket has grown old. Business owners need to realize their customers are their lifeline. Some of them even care about their employees.  But this place has lost its appeal.  The food never had much taste and the owner has even less.

I won't be going into this tasteless restaurant for a very long time.  Maybe never.

Night Visitor

Last week, I wasn't sleeping well.  A myriad of things went through my mind.  It had been a week of knowings.  Premonitions.  For friends.  For family.

If  you are blessed with psychic ability, you know you have to be careful with what you share.  Most people don't have a platform with which to accept new information about themselves and their future.  So you store it.  Stored for that time when it is safe for them.  Safe for you to remember.

Nearly sound asleep, a presence in the room awakened me.  From under the covers the presence felt huge. Solid.  Benevolent.  I wasn't scared - they was no reason to be.  But I was absolutely exhausted.   With little energy, I pulled the covers completely over my head.  I had no time for this.  Sleep kept calling and I dozed off.

Suddenly, the presence felt commanding.  Like I was being summoned.

I had learned lifelong to pay attention to senses.  Knowings.  Intuition.  Whether I could see anything did not matter.  I could feel that.  I readjusted my head. It was time.

Peeling back from the white, organic top sheet, I lifted my head off the pillow.  A large dark presence was visible at the foot of my bed.  It was just after midnight. A new moon would ensue in a few days.  It was a time of cleansing.  A deeper one now. Letting go in huge ways.  There had been reminders for the past few months.  But time was quickening.

In weeks before, I would hear the crinkling of my comforter yet I wasn't moving.  Once, I even crinked it to see if I could duplicate the sound.  I could not.  It required a hand and body larger than mine.  And,  I was especially tired that time.

Earlier in the day I had been working outside, moving flowers and transplanting them to a better location.  More light.  More drainage. More releasing.

Then there were the chimes, the bells, sounds that came from the direction of my LLBean Moonbeam clock.  Except it doesn't make those sounds.  Nor does my cell phone. But this isn't the first time I have heard these sounds.  It happened three nights before this time.

Then there have been crashing sounds outside my home at night. Not a thing was broken.  No evidence.  Nada.

Something is watching me.  A night visitor.