04 May 2008

saturday night's alright 4 putting it down


I'm watching Forty Year Old Virgin on HD Cable tonight. I am happy to be sitting on my throne, MacBook on lap, puppy close by. All the essentials are present. I noticed that's the second time today I've used  "essentials." An appropriate word for these days of simplifying.  

So, I'm watching one of my all-time favorite movies that can still crack me up. The first 2 times I saw it, I guffawed through the whole thing. I do not exactly know why. Does it even matter? Perhaps, the innocence of the main character ... and enough silly naughtiness in the film sparks me up for some good belly laughs. 

My inner 11 year old just loves to cut up, be saucy. She is my child on the inside who is inexperienced (my, that's a bit of a stretch) and a fearlessly curious tomboy. That can be a dangerous combination, and at times it was.

A therapist once told me that "it is a wonder that (you) are still alive." Then she said something about my having had some "suicidal behavior as a child." To that I replied, "(expletive deleted) ... I don't think so."

I may have been on the wild side, but more like a young filly who tosses her mane and often gets into mischief.  She loved being alive, and at times required a tighter rein than at other times. If only for her own protection. I get that now, although the environment in which I (survived) was, for the most part, in-freakin'-tense. 

I always loved, and still do love to soar. Who doesn't? But, the difference in me today (besides having had some dozens of years in which to mature) is that I'm pretty well disciplined, with a decent sense of awareness about balance. Most of the time, or at least a lot of the time, or some of a lot of the time.

That was the first and last session with the "therapist" who held up fear to me, and looked ready to give me an Rx. I promptly changed therapist's.  Good lord! If she saw me for only one hour and had that strong of a reaction, one of us was fucked up. I did not think it was me. (which I now believe to be one of my healthier thoughts in those days!)  I may have been a mess, but I was not a lost cause. The woman only heard what amounts to 'dipping a toe in the water' of what I had lived. I wonder what she would have prescribed had we continued to work together and had she heard more of my story. 

 "Freedom is what you get when you let go of your stories," say I.  (a follow-up thought just trickled in: hmm, i guess that's what i'm doing here ... letting it go ... on to another page, and out of my head where i get to experience that divine emptiness for awhile. like the blonde in me. oh, shit ... there she goes again. let's take a quick break here.) 

With great fortune, I was guided to a woman, a spiritual psychologist, that was not so quick to lay judgement. In fact, I never experienced judgement while working with her. That's what I dearly love about my "spiritual mentor", Colleen. She taught me with the greatest of patience about ego, fear vs. love, self-forgiveness, and guided me in the direction of learning to love myself. 

I have not seen Colleen since she move away some years ago. I grieved when she left, yet, after 7 - 8 years of studying with her, I think she helped me onto some pretty solid ground. I loved that there was someone in my life who "got" me, and who did not make presumptions about who they thought I was, nor who I should be. That was/is balm to the loneliness, the feeling of separateness, in which I had lived most of my life. Not so much today. Whatever may remain is more likely to be on a cellular level. Don't misunderstand, I'm not pretending to be finished with my soul-work. If I were (finished), I wouldn't need to be here anymore (done with Earth-school). "There is no finish line," said Colleen.
 
... to be continued one day, maybe. I heard Bossy say to me about writing -  "the trick is just to keep pushing forward!"  I get it. Thank you, Bossy, wherever you are.

It's Saturday night, and as I was saying earlier ... a light movie, cuddling with Puppy, my pretty white MacBook, and some old memories that give me cause to smile. Life is good.


1 comment:

Bonnie said...

I love his geeky collections. The Million Dollar Man!

Your throne sounds just lovely - peaceful, comfortable and companionable - just like you!

xoxo