Fakin' It

In the middle of creating and formatting today, I took a little break to eat some breakfast and veg in front of the television. I caught a little the movie What Women Want (2000) with Mel Gibson. I happened to tune in during the first ad pitching meeting they were having with the new director played by Helen Hunt. The first product they go for is Advil. Because Mel Gibson's character can hear what women are thinking, he overhears one of the women thinking that they should target women like her that take Advil when they're faking a headache to get out of sex.

So, that got me to thinking... why would any woman fake a headache? And, while we are on this topic, why would a woman fake an orgasm????

Any ideas?

Integrity: Adherence to moral and ethical principles; soundness of moral character; honesty.; the state of being whole, entire, or undiminished.

Curious about the definition of integrity, I looked it up and discovered the above definitions. I’ve been curious about integrity because of some things I’ve been witnessing for quite some time now. There are several people whom I love dearly and judge to be seriously out of integrity in several areas of their lives. They play games with money, relationships, sex and practice the form of truth-speaking that looks like: “what they don’t know won’t hurt them." All of them have said to me at one time or another, “I’m just doing what it takes to get done what needs to get done.”

Recently, I was speaking to one of these people, “I judge you to be SO out of integrity in so many areas of your life. You lie so often, you no longer know what the truth is. You cheat. You make insane, sometimes illegal, choices with your money and, yet, you always land on top. How can you fly so directly in the face of universal balance and still make it work for you?”

His answer: “I don’t know what you’re seeing, but I AM completely in integrity with every choice I make.”

That stopped me short. And the wonder started rolling in. Here are some of the things that I’m wondering about and I would love any feedback or information you may have...

*How can someone whom I judge to be blatantly dishonest feel like they are completely in integrity?

*I understand that my decision of “their” integrity is based on my own life experiences and is running through my filters and the expectations I hold for myself. Is it truly possible that people’s life experiences can create a totally different definition of integrity than the one I live within?

*How can integrity, with that concise definition above, be that flexible and provide the space to accommodate such a swing in the pendulum?

*Can I be holding myself back from creating money magic because I hold myself to too high of a level of integrity?

*Is there such a thing as “too high” or “not high enough” of a level of integrity?

*Can a strict code of ethics create limiting beliefs?

*I expect a fairly high level of integrity from myself and it's easy to become frustrated when faced with a choice that would be easier if I didn't expect so much of myself. Is it possible that integrity can become a sneaky mode of beat up?

*Can a person reprogram their integrity level – whether to raise or lower it – and be able to live within the new paradigm?

*Is it possible to have high integrity in ALL areas of life AND have money?

*Where does integrity come from?

*How is integrity interlaced with genius?

Waiting

I dreamt last night that I was back in Disneyland. It was crowded and the energy was high. The lines were long - longer than they were when we were really there. I remember weaving through the ropes... back and forth and back again... for seemingly forever. As I neared the front of the line, I realized it wasn't a ride at all for which I was waiting. I heard myself say to my friend, "I'm waiting in line to die."

I wanted to cry then. I want to cry now.

Wondering... where in my life am I simply waiting to die?

Go! Go! Go!

My pattern in life, generally, is go, go, GO, GO, GO! GO! GO! CRASH!!! #$&$%*&$%$!

I know this about myself and it is something I am wondering about. Wondering how I can go through life more easefully.

Last night it played out in my dreams. It was an uncomfortable night with very little deep, healing sleep. I stayed near the surface, tossing and turning and never relenting to the cushion of repose. I dreamt of going, going, GOING! And then I would explode into bits. The bits would land as bizarre Seuss-like animals, ironically enough, and become lodged head-first in the walls and earth. When it would be time for me to leave the room I was in, I would have to gather all the parts and pieces of myself and figure out how to reabsorb these now-alien particles. Inevitably, an important part would be buried irretrievably and I would slink out of the room hoping no one would notice the mess I was leaving behind, nor the gaping hole that the missing piece would leave. Over and over it went. Room after room, I would leave behind one piece of me until I was a tattered mess, wobbling and unable to stand.

It's a fairly blatant message, I think.

And yet, I have no idea how to do it differently. I have asked this before and find myself asking it again and more often as of late... how do I do/be something differently if what I am doing/being - is all that I know? I would think that if I had access to different responses, I would have done that long ago. Yes?

I feel sad about the bits and pieces of me, which scatter upon the crash, that are getting irreparably damaged and resolutely lodged in areas wherein I cannot gather myself back into myself. I am evermore aware of the phantom limbs and guts which pain me, mostly because they are lost and alone in the wilderness desert I am journeying.

Perhaps that is why I feel so alone right now. Parts of me are scattered from hell to breakfast and beyond and I have no way of calling them in.

Ack... now I feel scared.

120 years old?

The luring blurb posted on MSN read:

120 years old?
Israeli woman may be
world's oldest person

The picture with the blurb looked like this:

And I wondered... that woman looks so not happy to be alive still, after having lived a supposed 120 years. If I were to make it that long, would my face wear a smile or a grimace such as her face wears?

Bad and Good

Last Friday, I took a personal day and spent four hours of the morning focused totally on me and then six hours later on with my best friend. It was refreshing. During that time, I spent two hours with my Reiki Master Teacher in my own personal session. Following my session with her, I went straight to my friend's office for two hours of Rapid Eye Therapy. Then I went straight to my best friend's place to hang for the rest of the day. I felt totally fulfilled and really loved, from the inside out.

Thing is, during my sessions that morning, I hit up against my story that I am bad. I felt sad and angry about that. My RMT suggested that I write about my Bad vs. Good as part of the process of going from who I was to who I am. Here's what came out in the form of a letter to her...

~~~

As I contemplated this exercise all weekend, I was consciously aware of how much I was fighting the labeling of who I am, what I do, how I think, what I say and how I feel as being either good or bad. I even devised ways to reword it so that I didn’t actually use those particular labels but, rather, something like “serves me” and “doesn’t serve me.” In the end, I decided to stick to the simple “bad vs. good” labels even with as sad and as scared as I felt while doing so.

For as long as I can remember, I have somehow “known” that I was a Bad Girl. I am fairly certain that this knowledge came into light the very moment I got caught in that cardboard clubhouse 35 years ago. As I worked through the exercise, I began to see more clearly that, deep inside, I believe my self to be innately good. The judgment of “you are bad” has come from outside of me. I have been viewed as and judged by others as being “bad” when I have just followed my own natural instincts and curiosity.

I compiled these lists in my mind over and over, hundreds of times over the weekend. I thought about it until I thought I would go mad with the repetition of it. Yet, if I kept it in my mind, then I wouldn’t have to look at it in stark black and white. I wouldn’t have to see the truth of what I had been living.

I realized that the lists I was compiling in my head were interchangeable. I saw items on the bad side that, to some people, would be viewed as being good and vice versa. I also discovered that some of these items are both bad and good, depending on how the line item is read. It also became crystalline clear that these “bad” and “good” traits of who I am, when labeled thusly, are simply that – labels. They are labels put on me by other people that I have chosen to accept as a reality for myself. When I mentally viewed these lists, I could see only a few, small items that I would consider, for myself, things that are truly handicapping me and need to be adjusted. I also noticed that the items under “good” were more of how I view myself and things I want to believe about myself. While the items under “bad” were more of what others have said about me and things I don't like about myself.

And, by the way, those two pieces of paper I mentioned that I needed to have for the process of qualifying for my house? Yeah, those showed up today in a manila folder which was laying atop a pile of other folders and papers, a pile which I had rifled through a hundred times last week during the mad search for the required documents. At the end of my day today, that file appeared out of the middle of nowhere, just innocently laying there as if it had always been there. The lost has been returned.

Thank you for the opportunity to delve into who I am, what I think, how I feel, what I say and what I do. I have compiled a pretty hefty list below of the bad and good of all that. And, while I can guess that I have left off a lot of items (probably items I don’t want to look at or am not ready to, yet) I feel confident that this is a really solid start.

With love,
Angie

BAD
Lying in situations where I am too embarrassed to tell the truth
Having sex with a married man
Swearing
Taking God’s name in vain
Leaving the Mormon religion
Having sex while being single after going through the Temple
Pornography
Erotica – writing and reading
Fat
Speaking out snidely when I am upset
Being “scary” when I am angry
Had sex before I was married
Curious about being with a woman as a lover
Endlessly loving a man who is not mine to love
Questioning and finding spirituality outside of religion
Easily give up
Pointing fingers at others when I am unwilling to own my wrongdoings
Judgmental of those whom I view as being judgmental
Critical instead of loving when I have been treated harshly
Quick to jump to a conclusion, usually on the negative side of things
Drinking alcohol occasionally
Witch
No risk taking
Insecure and unconfident
Sexual
Sees, hears, tastes, feels, smells things that aren’t readily observed by others
Lazy
Despises exercising
Overly critical of the Mormons
Tendency to not give some people a second chance after they have treated me poorly
Willing to hold on long after it is necessary or healthy
Closed and too private
Inaccessible
Incomplete; too many little Angies everywhere, each Angie being a concoction of my own doing based on what I perceive the person in front of me wants me to be
Working really hard, yet never allowing myself to land in completion
Procrastination
Settling for something because something is better than nothing
Viewing everything as criticism
“Not enough”

GOOD
Being open for other sides of the story
Accepting of many different lifestyles
Loving mother
Ability to laugh easily and often
Look for the lesson in situations
Creating a sacred space around me
Healing hands
Gifted writer
Dancing is a part of me
Endlessly loving a man who is not mine to love
Questioning and finding spirituality outside of religion
Continue to come back, time and again
Willing to look at myself, accept my responsibility
Curiosity
An immense love of learning
Vision through the eyes of God
Willing to stand up for who I am
Willing to tell my story
A leader who knows how to follow well
Free from all chemical substances
Never smoked anything
Developing psychic gifts and excited about that
A pure channel
A consummate teacher and student
Elaborate imagination
Smart, witty and charming
Sound body, mind and heart
I give my heart fully when I love
Trusting
Intuitive
Witch
Sexual being
Sees, hears, tastes, feels, smells things that aren’t readily observed by others
Continually forgiving of some people
Love of music
Willing to look you in the eye
Untapped sense of adventurousness
Warm
Nurturing
Love embracing
“Hands On” sort of person
Open in bed
Learning to gracefully receive feedback
Attractive
Gentle
Tender, kind heart
Belief that humans are all good at their core
Willing to honor you for your own beliefs
Curious about self and learning who I really am, or rather, who I really want to be

The In-Crowd

Excerpt from my upcoming book Above the Clouds...

~~~

It was fall, 1978 and I was, once again, walking into an unfamiliar school in the middle of the year. I was bombarded with all the same fears I had dealt with so many times before. Will they like me? Will I find a friend? Will the teacher be nice? Will they tease me? Will I be lonely?

After getting my classroom number from the secretary in the front office, I turned toward the indicated hall. The sun coming through the glass doors at the end of the hall blinded me as it reflected off the recently polished floor. The hall was quiet, yet I could hear the murmur of voices from behind closed doors. I could have sworn my echoing footsteps were actually the sound of my heart pounding unsteadily in my chest.

I stopped before the appropriate door and glanced down at the paper to assure myself that I had arrived at the correct place. Trying to calm myself, and stalling for time, I deliberately and carefully folded up the note, “Mr. Peterson room 6,” I stood silently staring at the door. There were no sounds coming from within. I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.

Biting my lip, I made a thorough inspection to verify that every button and zipper were properly clasped. Then I placed my hand upon the cold doorknob and said a little prayer.

“Heavenly Father, if you are listening, please help me be brave.”

The door’s creaking hinges challenged the sound of a gunshot in a silent meadow and, of course, everyone focused on me. Each student had a book before them, explaining the silence and the teacher was hidden behind a stack of papers upon his desk.

“Come in,” said the man as he stood and stretched to his full height, towering over six feet tall. I studied him, trying to deduce if I had found a friend or foe. His thick, wavy brown hair stood haphazardly upon his head as if he had failed to use a brush that morning and his auburn beard and mustache were long and unkempt. I smiled at his belly, thinking of Santa.

Then he said, “I’m Mr. Peterson. You must be Angie. We’ve been waiting for you and saved you a seat right over there.”

He grinned the friendliest smile I had ever seen and I knew I had an ally.

Never having been the class clown or overly outgoing, I had never been part of the “in crowd.” I was quiet, inward and liked to read. That didn’t go over well with kids my age, so I usually stuck to myself and stayed in the background. I was quick to learn who was ‘in’ and who was ‘out’. Which girls copied and which girls were to be copied. I also quickly learned that Mr. Peterson and my guardian angels had set me at the “in crowd” table and they took me under their wings. For the first time in my life, I was the girl that other girls wanted to be with, be like and do for. Yet, I was still able to be friends with everyone. Every day was like a dream come true. I had found my bosom friends. I would run home bursting with tales of “The Gang.” It was the happiest time of my life.

~~~

This morning as I drove to work repeating my new mantra I commit to being open to self-awareness, ease and flow in all areas of my life... I had the thought pop up that I have been spending my entire life trying to fit in with the In-Crowd. Other than the year I spoke about above, I have always been on the outskirts of that crowd. I am not exceedingly ugly, crippled, stupid or boring. I am, however, usually quiet and waiting for others to draw me out, shy upon meeting and have a propensity for introspection and inward-focused activities like reading and writing.

There are reasons for why I am this way and there are reasons for why I have never really fit in anywhere. There are also reasons for why I have chosen, since I was fourteen, to partner with just one person to the exclusion of all others. These reasons are rooted deep in my childhood and are patterns that I am looking to unearth and redo.

I choose to be healthier in my relationships, all relationships - money, health, sexual, spiritual and in the area of my genius. This choice creates an uncomfortability at times as I wiggle my way out of the old and into the new. And, as I do so, I am becoming painfully aware that I still don't fit in anywhere. I am part of a community that is primarily gay/lesbian, while being heterosexual. In this community of artisans, musicians, deep-thinkers and comedians, I am inward, yet longing to be noticed for who I am. I am in a state that is predominantly Mormon while I am decidedly not. I am quiet in a realm where noise is required to get noticed. I am noisy in places that require quiet. I am excluded where I want to be included and included in things that I would rather not be a part of. I am a singer who cannot really carry a tune and lacks the balls to get in the spotlight and even attempt to belt one out. I am a writer afraid to publish and a teacher without a class. I am a wealthy person without money. I am the "Other Woman" in several non-sexual partnerships. Sadly, I am a misfit in practically every area of my life.

The interesting thing is that even when I am participating in activities that would appear to outsiders as being "In Crowd" activities (i.e., high school drill team, high school dance teams, college dance troupes, professional belly dancing troupes) I was still not included in that crowd. In fact, in high school, I specifically remember being the only girl without a roommate for summer drill camp. The team captain sighed loudly and said in a tone I judged to be the epitome of martyrdom, "I will be Angie's roommate."

And while all this could be viewed as me being unique, that is only a softer way of saying you are weird and don't belong here.

Please note, I am sharing this to out myself. The voice I hear in my head as I write this is calm and introspective, lacking the nasal-tone whining of one who is groveling for attention. These things are my noticings and I am wondering how I turn around this pattern of continually putting myself outside the circle. I am wondering how to become the person who gets invited, who people want to be with, maybe even long to be with. I am wondering how I find the natural knowing of when to stay, when to go, when to switch, when to stand still. I am wondering how to become open to self-awareness, ease and flow in every area of my life...