September 29, 2013

No More War of Art

Was watching Super Soul Sunday this morning. Great program on Sunday mornings showcasing critical thinkers, motivators and people who speak from the soul.

Today's show presented The War Of Art author Steven Pressfield. 

He has a theory about resistance. Maybe I should capitalize it; RESTISTANCE because he says it's big.

He states that every dream has a shadow, Much like the pepper tree he and Oprah were sitting under. To get to your dream  or your goal, your individual Art, (the pepper tree) one must get through the shadow of resistance.

He compares it to St. George slaying the dragon. 

I am very familiar with this shadow. Procrastination...doubt....fear....laziness are some of my less desirable companions in the shadows of my dreams.

I have promised to write 10 paragraphs a day towards a book I am writing. I found that it was easy to write more than 10 paragraphs daily so I upped the minimum to two hours of writing each day. I am pretty good about it most days but there are those days where it seems the shadow around the keyboard is very thick and murky; getting through it is almost impossible. Not that I try (being honest here!).

When Pressfiled mentioned St George slaying the dragon I was thinking how much time I spend slaying the dragon. I can be in the living room thinking I need to go back to the compute and write but then I see that the rugs need vacuuming.  Then I think, time to write; "oh look, the vacuuming has raised dust, I need to polish the furniture. Okay, okay, I'll write as soon as Rex (Border Collie) and I return from a walk.

On the other hand...when my goal is to exercise and take Rex for a walk, I remember that the dishwasher needs to be emptied or how nice it would be to sit in with my feet in the shady side of the pool and read.

Hey, I live in Redding; we live for shade when it is 110 outside.

What if we skip St. George and his over exuberance of manly testosterone and desire for slaying and mayhem and approach the shadow with St. Martha in mind. She befriended the dragon, they became pals.

Tomorrow, when 9:00 a.m. rolls around and I'm rinsing out my raisin bran bowl, stirring my tea, I'll be thinking I need to crank up Word and get back to the book. As I head back down the hall and the Shadow Dragon of Procrastination steps out of the closet, I am going to wrap an arm around her shoulders, let her sip some of tea and invite her to sit next to me while I type. I'll even propose that if she has any ideas about plot or sentence structure she should speak up.  I'll promise any idea will be considered, unless the idea includes leaving the seat in front of the computer until at least 11:00 a.m.

I might even ask her if she would like the name Shadow, which I think isn't so bad for a dragon.

Illustration courtesy of Deviant Art

Brene Brown Quote

"Every time someone watches Jersey Shore a book commits suicide!"

Haven't ever seen Jersey Shore but I've heard about it and seen pictures of Snooky and can imagine whole libraries bombing themselves up with each episode.

Photo Courtesy of Ignorance

September 27, 2013

Random Thoughts

Courtesy of
How did the smoke get to my bedroom ceiling fan, all the way at the other end of the house, when I burned the green beans .....OR.....were the fans really dirty and I never noticed? 

The City of Redding has parking meters on every street downtown but we don't have enough police officers to read the meters any more because of cuts backs. The only time you can get a parking ticket is if you haven't donated your nickel the one day of the month that someone comes by to collect the coins. Parking downtown is just a less lethal form of Russian Roulette.

Captain Crunch Cereal....WTF?

If I bought an old in Chrysler, Plymouth or Buick....and put a small, 4 cylinder engine in it, could I still get the protection of all that steel and good gas mileage or would a small engine be unable to move the behemoth?

If I go with Plymouth, do I have to have a Mopar ignition?

Why are Conservatives and Fundamentalists so proud of being narrow-minded?  Can you be a Conservative or Fundamentalist and be claustrophobic or are they cozy is tight spaces? Why do they want to pull you in to such close quarters?

In English, inanimate objects such as boats, cars, planes, etc. are referred to in feminine pronouns, so why were all the high powered, fast cars in the 60's and early 70's called "muscle cars"?  What muscles were they referring to?  My recollection was that "fast girl" wasn't a compliment in those days.

Why is it if one person makes a statement of a political or religious nature (especially on FB or Twitter), people jump on to blame, point fingers and contradict the statement with a regularity of 27 to 1?

In the same vein; when in a conversation, when a person makes a statement why do so many people  argue the statement and very, very few will ask, "Why do you think that?" or "What makes you feel that way?"

When in life does a human being decide they know everything or, at the very least, everything they know is the absolute gospel truth?  I can see a two year old and a fifteen year old insisting that they are 100% certain that the world is as they see it and closing their mind to any other lines of thought but what about intelligent adults?   Am I venturing into the oxymoron world?

Imagine you are attending a yard sale and trying to barter a large piece of furniture down from $60 to $30. Part of your argument is that you can't afford more than $30 because you don't have more. Imagine that the nice lady, playing the vendor, feels sorry for you and agrees to $30, would you hand her a $100 bill and ask her if she has change?  Would that person be considered having cojones or brain damage?

Why does the urge to do heavy cleaning always rise up like a monster as soon as you have applied fingernail polish?

Why is it that after the heavy cleaning there seems no time to repair fingernails and/or polish for at least a week?

Why, when a puppy chews up one of your shoes and comes back for more, he never comes back for the partner but attacks a completely new pair?

Why, does someone you really want to visit with, holding two large Dutch Bros coffee ring your doorbell the day you decide to lay in bed and read until 10 a.m.? So when you answer the door your hair is not combed, teeth not brushed and the blouse you threw on is inside-out, ?

Why does your friend not tell you that your shirt is inside-out and that your hair looks like you slept plugged into your Chevy truck's battery? Would a true friend tell you that you looked like hell or would she not notice at all because she loves you for you?

Finally, when you are awake early, you've showered, combed your hair, brushed your teeth, polished your nails and then remembered to wash the ceiling fan in your bedroom, no one comes to your door and you have to get in the car and get your own damned coffee?

September 14, 2013


Cancer is ugly.

My grandson lost his loving, supportive step-dad to it.

Dear friends have succumbed to it while other friends and family have fought the fight or are fighting it now.

I know that when I got a recent call, and was told that someone I dearly love has cancer,  I was totally paralyzed. I sat dazed, afraid and crying.

All that happened is that I heard someone HAS it. I wasn't the one receiving the diagnosis.

What happens to the person being told?  How do they continue to breathe? Do the words, "you have cancer" paralyze you? Do you want to reach across the desk, slap the doctor and call him LIAR!

To protect those close to you from the fear, do you ease the pain for them with a little white lie, "it's just pre-cancerous!"  Do you tell them the truth?

If you tell them the truth, does it make it too real for you.  Can you sit in denial as long as you don't verbalize it.

To state "I have cancer" must overwhelm one's heart and soul. To tell someone you love, knowing  your announcement is going to cause them pain, again, must overwhelm.

When the additional tests come back and the "all clear" is given, do you fully rejoice or is there a part of you that sits in doubt? Do you feel like the viewer in a dark theater; the protagonist inching down a dark hallway, expecting that any moment the villain will leap out?

I love you. I wish I could wrap you in my arms and protect you, not that you would allow that, but just the same.

Don't go anywhere. Stay here. We need you. Please.