Thoughts

OK, so I had a typical day. The only difference, really, was that I happened to be chatting on Fb to someone during a typical portion of my typical day so I told her about it as part of our conversation. She was so entertained by what I told her that I was reminded, as I haven’t been for a little while, of just how … um … “different” I am.

I quit smoking a little while ago. So I’ve gone from having a half hour lunch break and two 15 minute smoke breaks to having an hour lunch break in the middle of my working day. Sometimes I have no problem filling that with shopping or reading or whatever as well as eating my lunch. At other times, I seem to have excess minutes to take advantage of. Today was one of the latter. I’d finished shopping and still had a half hour left. I didn’t want to eat my packed lunch in the grounds at work so I looked for a likely spot to sit in my car, eat my sandwich, and play a bit on Facebook.

I’d noticed a building that looked vacant. There had been a business sign out front but it had been removed. Near the empty sign holder there is a “for lease” sign. So I pulled into the parking lot, wound down my windows, pulled out my phone and my sandwich, and got comfy.

I was Fb chatting away with a friend and former co-worker in London when I realized the wi-fi symbol on my phone was lit. I must have forgotten to switch off wi-fi when I left home this morning. No big deal. Except that the symbol was orange, which it has never been before. So I was curious. I’m often curious. And I can’t seem to ignore whatever has made me curious. I backed out of Fb and entered settings. I was apparently connected to an unfamiliar wi-fi (which I’m guessing explained the odd color of the symbol). Of course I can’t now remember the name of the wi-fi I was connected to. But I was grateful and felt guilty at the same time. I hadn’t intentionally been stealing someone’s signal. I quieted my guilt by telling myself that they should have secured their service before closing up their business.

Then a truck pulled into the parking lot. It backed into a cargo bay and the driver got out, opened the door of the building and began unloading boxes. I looked around. Just two vehicles in the huge car park of what I’d taken for a deserted building. And of course the overactive imagination kicked in.

I studiously avoided looking at the truck any more while speculating wildly about what was going on to the friend with whom I was chatting. As I saw it, one of two things was soon to happen. Either security was going to exit the building, approach my vehicle, and ask me what the hell I was doing, neither a customer nor an employee, making myself comfortable in their parking lot and free with their wi-fi service. Or the truck driver was going to approach my vehicle with a gun and ask me how much I’d seen.

Yes, I know. Totally unlikely, both. And yet I was still half-expecting someone to come over. If the business was still an active one, where had the employees parked? There was something very weird going on here, I was convinced. So, while avoiding being caught actually watching the unloading of the truck, I kept my peripheral vision at alert. There was a lot of empty space between me and the building and, if anyone began strolling in the parking lot, my key would be turned in my ignition and I would be out of there in about 2 seconds flat.

Of course, the friend with whom I was chatting was trying to remain upright in her chair in London while laughing herself silly at my state of alert in Pennsylvania.

While studiously avoiding noticing anything further about the unloading of the truck, I managed to notice a nearby McDonald’s. Even with the windows open, it had gotten quite warm from the Autumn sun in my vehicle. A chocolate milkshake suddenly seemed a necessity before returning to work. So the mystery of the building and all things associated with it disappeared from the forefront of my mind as I drove to the drive-thru for a milkshake. Hence, for several minutes, my friend was left hanging … and apparently wondering if, in fact, I had been accosted in one way or another. When I picked up my end of the conversation again, milkshake half-consumed and back at my desk, she typed to me in rather stern capitals about worrying her like that.

I can only guess that you have to be a writer to understand the way my mind works.

I ... Kind Of ... Quit Smoking

A little while ago someone who inspires me quit smoking.

I so admired that but thought I didn't have the willpower to accomplish it on my own. So I planned it. I talked to the Health and Wellness Coach at work. I was supplied with patches for eight weeks and was given a support person at the end of a phone line. However, I was dithering over the "quit date". So I decided to take a breath and think about why.

This wasn't quitting as I wanted to quit for several reasons.

1. I'm one of those annoying people who actually enjoy smoking. Now, don't misunderstand. I don't like what it does to my lungs. I don't like the expense. I don't like the smelly ashtrays or the offensive odor that smoking leaves in my hair and on my clothes. But what I most dislike about smoking is that I allowed myself to become addicted to it. I always enjoyed smoking the odd cigarette ... when I wanted to. I most certainly did not enjoy feeling the need for one every two hours or so. Or experiencing that my-eyes-are-sinking-into-the-back-of-my-skull feeling if I hadn't had one in, say, the past three to four hours. So I had to face that I don't really want to quit. Not entirely. What I want is to be able to smoke just one cigarette, at the end of the day, when I want to. And, yes, I am aware that having that one cigarette at the end of each day is going to make NOT having other cigarettes throughout each day far more difficult. But, hey, while I'm not expensive or high-maintenance, I never said I was easy. ;-)

2. I felt the way I was planning to quit wasn't the right way for me. I didn't want to spend eight weeks slowly lowering my dependence on nicotine that was being supplied to me by a patch on my arm. Weird as it may sound, I wanted it to be painful and horrific but short and sharp. I wanted my "quit date" to stick in my mind to deter me from ever again lighting up MORE than one cigarette at the end of a day. I wanted to be AFRAID of having to go through that again. BUT ... there was that lack of willpower thing. Was I going to be able to do it the way I wanted to do it or was I going to fail miserably?

3. That last sentence really challenged me. Once upon a time, I believed myself terribly impatient. However, over the past three years, I've proven to myself just how incredibly patient I can be. Given the right incentive. Maybe it's the same with willpower, I thought. After all, what's the difference between being stubborn and possessing willpower? I know I can be stubborn as hell so why am I so convinced I have insufficient willpower?

So I decided to quit my way instead of the planned way. It was going to be ridiculously challenging my way. But, if I didn't succeed ... well, there were the patches stacked neatly in their four little boxes and there's still that support person waiting to hear from me ...

I deliberately chose the quit day I did for very personal reasons that I'm not going to go into. But I also chose it for the day that follows it; an important day to me; one that makes me happy every year.

So ... I put out my last "I really need this" cigarette at 11:00 on Friday night.

I had my first "I'm smoking this because I want to" cigarette at about 11:30 on Saturday night.

It's now 10:35 on Sunday morning. I've been up for over three hours. And I know that I won't smoke my next cigarette until after 11:00 tonight. Because I'm just that stubborn. ;-) And because the reason I quit matters that much to me.

Count your blessings twice ...

They sat together at the campfire in the middle of the forest, the goddess and her daughter. One cried out her pain while the other sat listening in silent compassion.

When her daughter’s tears finally dried, the goddess said, “Let me show you something.”

The daughter knew instinctively to look into the flames. There were images of rape, starvation, war, flooding, murder, and terminal disease.

After a few moments of digesting the images, the daughter faced her mother, humbled and embarrassed for the tears she had shed. In comparison to what she’d just seen, her tears were the indulgence of a weak and superficial brat who’d been denied a coveted bauble.

“I understand. You’re pointing out that, while personally painful, what happened to me pales into insignificance. I feel as if my life has fallen apart but that’s vain, peripheral and totally unimportant in the grand scheme of things,” said the daughter.

“No,” said the goddess. “Your allegorical heart is broken and the pain you feel is very real. The grief you are experiencing will be felt for some time and, as you heal, you will be changed. “

She smiled at her daughter and continued, “Your life has not ‘fallen apart’; your future is merely being rewritten. You thought you would travel in this direction but have learned that you are headed in that. This has happened before and it will happen again.

“The paths of all the people you just saw have been altered by events both similar to and very different from your own. I would just like you to keep in mind that you live. Your body is intact. You have food on your table and a roof over your head. There are people you love who love you in return.

“Experience your pain. Feel your grief. But, as you heal, spare a moment each day to reflect on your blessings and find a way of showing gratitude for them. In this way, as you heal, you will ensure that one of the changes in you will not be the acquisition of bitterness.

“You must grow stronger without toughening. You must grow wiser without becoming jaded. You must allow your heart to heal while expanding its capacity to love.

“Count your blessings twice; your sorrows only once and as you release them.”

Behavioral Genetics in the Era of the Social Network?

I was reading an article early this afternoon on behavioral genetics that gave birth to so many questions and resultant trains of thought that it has occupied my mind most of the day. The particular question that most interested me has to do with the differences between men and women with regard to the opinions of others and where it has led.

Women, from the time we are children, seem overly consumed by the strong desire (sometimes a crucial need) to be popular, admired, well thought of, etc. Even by those we don’t particularly think highly of. It is almost as if we cannot see our true reflection; we judge ourselves instead by the opinions of others. “He says I am pretty, therefore I am attractive.” “She says I am intelligent, therefore I am smart.” Much more disastrously, of course, are the negative judgments. “She says I am fat, therefore I am overweight, regardless of what the scales read.”

Men, on the other hand, seem to judge themselves by their deeds. “I beat him in that race, therefore I am fast.” “I carried my sister on my back, therefore I am strong.” Negative judgments are so much easier to dismiss for a boy. “He said I am weak but I can carry my sister so he's wrong.”

I’m not a psychologist. And observations, unless made in a controlled way with many test subjects, are just personal opinion. But IF this is correct, I wondered WHY. Does it have to do with evolution? Is it a throw-back to a time when women, biologically weaker and given to periods of extreme vulnerability (pregnancy, for example), needed the protection of a man/clan to ensure survival? A man, then at least, didn’t need to be liked to survive from adolescence until he became incapable. A woman, on the other hand, needed to attract and retain a mate, not only to become pregnant but to survive pregnancy. Insurance was being well thought of by a clan, in case of the death of her mate. The more desirable females attracted the superior mates/clans, gaining protection during vulnerability, and ensuring her genes were passed to future generations.

Of course, “desirable”, like “beauty”, is in the eye of the beholder. What was considered a desirable woman just a few decades ago differs wildly from what is considered desirable today; imagine how much different a beautiful woman from the dawn of civilization would be from today’s version. Also, in the modern world, an intelligent or resourceful woman, despite her “desirability”, can survive and ensure the survival of her genes. Yet, it seems to me, women are still caught in this evolutionary snare. We still want to be liked, whether or not we need to be.

The real tragedy, it seems to me, lies in what some women are willing to do/become in order to gain acceptability. You need spend only an hour on Facebook to become completely nauseated by my entire gender. The pleas for attention are rampant. Some seem to have made playing the victim role their life’s goal, pouring out their hearts about how vilely they were treated by others so people will “like” their post or provide a virtual {hug}. Others seem to believe sexual availability is the ticket, posting profile pictures verging on the obscene, advertising (I can think of no better word for it) what they have done/are willing to do, (let’s not limit it to) “in the bedroom”. While in some situations, neither behavior might be considered bizarre, when it is taken into consideration that the “friends” of most of the women who behave in this way are complete strangers, I find it deeply disturbing.

Embrace Your Own Darkness

If witches can be said to have a set of commandments by which they are meant to live, arguably “Embrace your own darkness” is the most crucial. In conversation with other witches, I have occasionally wondered if some of them have moved beyond speaking the words to grasping the concept behind those words. I know for certain that the few outside of the community who have heard the expression have little idea of the depth, complexity, and difficulty of this “commandment”.

One way of fully understanding the immensity of the phrase is to begin by examining several components of it in an "it doesn't only mean" fashion.

1. It doesn’t only mean to accept that you are human; a flawed creature who must make mistakes (perhaps the same one repeatedly) in order to learn life’s lessons. That IS a small part of it, but only the tip of the iceberg. That tip is, I find, what most non-witches believe is meant by the expression. I suppose I can understand WHY they believe that to be the case. If you just look at the individual words involved, “Embrace your own darkness” could be misconstrued as meaning “Accept there is some darkness at your core”. That sounds almost as if it is to be celebrated and is most certainly not the case. “OK, I make mistakes. I have faults. Everyone does. I’m going to embrace that fact and move on.” To embrace it, in the context of the "commandment", certainly does NOT mean to hold it in a loving way or even to tolerate its existence.

2. It doesn’t only mean that we must admit to our mistakes, apologize to those we may have transgressed against, and attempt to make redress whenever possible. ~ Accept not only that the action was wrong but also fully accept the consequences for it. Where possible, voluntarily and willingly repair the damage done. ~ Yes, that’s a part of it, too. (And, as a sideline, we must remember that a part of THAT involves forgiving ourselves as well as others. Often, even after others have forgiven us for a mistake we made that impacted upon them, we continue to feel guilty and/or to punish ourselves. We must all, regardless of our spiritual path, learn that lesson. There is no sense in continuing to flog ourselves for a wrong we have made every attempt to right.) But witches cannot meet the requirements of “Embrace your own darkness” by confessing the "sin", requesting absolution, performing the penance, and accepting forgiveness. Difficult as all of that can be, it is only the first half of meeting the obligation of being a witch. We do not believe that it is possible for anyone, divine or not, to make reparation for another. We are expected to improve and transcend by ourselves; for ourselves. A witch is on her own before her goddess; there is no savior to intercede for her. She must be the savior of her own soul. She must honestly desire spiritual improvement. She may make the same mistake over and over, continuously accepting the consequences, attempting to right her own wrongs, but if she is not improving each time, she is wasting her own potential and slowing her own spiritual progress. I saw an anonymous quote once that I believe encapsulates this part of the concept very well ~ "If it's an event, get through it; if it's a pattern, get out of it." "Continuous improvement" is not only a total quality management technique; it is the goal of every witch.

“Young” witches (and by that I am referring to those who are “new to the craft” rather than below a specific chronological age) have often asked me how to begin to recognize flaws to be acted upon. It is my own personal belief that the things we most dislike about another person ~ traits that most annoy and irritate us ~ are what we most dislike about ourselves. So, if you’re not sure where to start, begin by examining those you dislike and meditate upon the reasons for that dislike. We sometimes consciously judge others when we are subconsciously sitting in judgment on ourselves.

3. To move slightly away from the unsavory aspects of our own characters, “Embrace your own darkness” is not only about making fewer mistakes (committing fewer "sins") and improving personal flaws but also about mastering personal fears.

It is not sufficient to admit to your fears while allowing them to continue festering within. Admitting to each fear is difficult. Like recognizing mistakes and accepting the consequences for them, none of us easily admit that particular people, situations, or scenarios frighten us.

Facing each fear is even more difficult than admitting to it. To someone who fears the absence of light, being left alone in darkness is torture. It takes real courage to face an admitted fear and should never be inflicted upon another. Facing a fear must be a voluntary action.

It takes even more courage to take the final step of mastering that fear; eradicating it from yourself. A witch is not only encouraged but also expected to do so. Harboring fear, allowing it to persist within, is failure. You cannot do that which you are entrusted to do as a witch if you hold fear within. Each fear is a weakness in your armor and will most definitely be used against you. Cast as strong a circle as is imaginable, maintain as impenetrable a shield as is possible; if you are fearful, you remain vulnerable.

And I suppose the reason I’m blogging on “Embrace your own darkness” today is that writing about it is one of my ways of personally performing it. Like dissecting a frog to gain a better understanding of anatomy, writing about what it means and how to do it has helped me to better understand why I torture myself each weekend.

I have recognized my greatest fear. I have taken the next step of facing it. In fact, I have been facing it, on one level or another (sometimes superficially, as if glancing upon it quickly; sometimes profoundly, as if staring challengingly into its eyes to see who blinks first), each weekend for far too long a time.

I have, however, been steadfastly avoiding mastering it. I know, you see, that mastering this particular fear may have repercussions along my entire emotional spectrum. Like dropping a pebble into a pond, I’m not sure how far the ripples will radiate or what might change as a result.

What I have admitted to myself today is that, no matter how often I face my greatest fear, or how deeply I look into its eyes, tolerating its existence is an unforgivable weakness. Mastering it cannot be avoided by a change in circumstance. It will continue to fester in my soul, making me vulnerable, even after the current situation changes. No matter what or how much is affected by the obliteration of it, it must be vanquished. Otherwise, even after my currently slightly overcast path emerges into bright sunlight (as I have absolute faith that it will), my own darkness will continue to dart from the forest on one side to the forest on the other, counting coup on me each time it passes, causing me to stumble each time it strikes, until I finally fall, at which time it will ruthlessly sink its rabid teeth deeply into my exposed jugular.

I have learned to kayak!

I have been having such a great time!

It started last night with a visit from Wendie.  We stayed up until 3, talking and doing a little bit of light drinking (beer for her, wine for me).  And I do mean little and light.  I was only finishing my second glass of merlot as she was leaving.  I really enjoyed our time together!

Then this morning, the lovely Dana texted me to ask if I'd like to go kayaking with her and Dave.  I was a little reluctant.  I love swimming but hate most other forms of exercise.  Unless there's a much better reason than physical fitness, I don't like to sweat!  Paddling a little canoe around a body of water sounded like work to me.  It only took her assuring me they had no intention of doing laps ~ they do it more for the fun and relaxation than exercise ~ and I was hopping into the shower to get ready.

A brief stop at Sheetz to pick up a lazy picnic lunch and off we went.

It was very hot and very sunny when we arrived at Canoe Creek.  As I watched them readying the paddles and kayaks, I acknowledged to myself that I would most likely be righting the thing several times after tipping it over.  I mean, let's face it, I am not the most graceful of creatures.  I am normally fairly conversant with balance but grace? Passing acquaintances, at best.  But, what the hell, right?  If you're going to make a fool of yourself, it may as well be with people you love and know well.  ;-)  (Just for the record, I didn't tip once so apparently you can compensate for a lack of grace with a good sense of balance in a kayak.)

There were so many beautiful sights and I really minded not being able to photograph them.  Sure I was going to end up upside-down, I left my camera in Dave's truck.  There was a huge turtle floating on the water's surface, basking in the sun, for one thing.  As I approached it, it took a gulp of air and began to dive.  The thing's shell was about 3 feet in diameter!  It was wonderful to see!  And there were pockets of flowering lily pads.  Although I didn't see any, I could certainly hear the frogs.  There were mallards on the water and, that, too was a welcome sight I hadn't seen in a while.  And finally, the underwater plants and fish were so lovely!  The plants were tall and green with red tips on their leaves.  The fish were brightly colored and very pretty, although I'm not sure what kind.  (About the only fish I recognize are rainbow trout and catfish; these were neither.)

Of course we stopped at the beach area to swim.

After eating, we decided to head home.

Thanks so much, Dana and Dave, for gifting me with a new passion!  I absolutely loved kayaking!

On the way to my house from theirs, I made another stop at Sheetz, this time for a frozen drink.  The drink waited for me in the freezer while I was having a second shower and then slathering moisturizer on my sun-burnt skin.  Now, drinking it while I blog, I'm planning a nap before getting back up to enjoy what I hope will be a cool evening.

And, yes, one of my plans for this evening is to look online for an inflatable kayak (the first kind Dana bought while learning).  I guarantee I'm going to be spending a lot of time in it over the next several weeks.  ;-)