Truer words were never said.

Never Mind the Battle of the Sexes.

We need to address the Battle of Body vs Mind.

I'll start by saying that, even though I haven't brought it up here yet, I'm very passionate about sex. It's one of my favorite topics to discuss because it's a universal exercise and yet uniquely experienced by each individual. While I'm not necessarily all about the recounting of my own experiences, I enjoy getting a feel for how others perceive sex. I like delving into the nature of peoples kinks and fetishes to get different  insights on their personalities. And I like to think I'm fairly well-versed on the subject (though there will always be more to learn). But there is one aspect of this matter that eludes me: The ongoing conflict between human sexuality and the ego.

I always thought that things were supposed to become clearer as we got older. Life would endow us with experiences and a richer understanding of the way the world works. I was, evidently, laboring under a delusion because as I get older, things get more and more confusing. And nothing baffles me more than the clash of the body and the mind.

Separated and picked apart, the two aspects that make up a human are perfect. On the one hand you have your ego, what makes you "you". All of your memories, education, emotions and personality traits combined to create a complex and unique consciousness - the part of you that loves. Your morals and values along with your preferences and plans dictate the choices you make in love and relationships. And while it may not always be rational, you have a certain level control over your "ethereal self".

On the other hand you have this equally complex collection of cells, one that governs itself - your body. Every aspect of this body correlates to another in order to form a vehicle that happens to be ideal for going about your day-to-day life on the physical plane. Keeping your vital organs working, realizing when you need to refuel and recharge, healing itself after injury or illness... It's nothing short of miraculous that the atoms of this form are held together in divine perfection. But don't be fooled. Just about every function of your being is working towards a single goal: Procreation. Even if you don't want kids, everything about sex, from hormones to orgasms, is designed to make you reproduce.

Looking at it from the outside, common sense would tell you that to put this higher consciousness inside a body of base needs could result in chaos. There's as much potential for anguish as there is for euphoria. You might have a love of your life, a match for your soul, and the sex will make you feel complete in every way. But your body could compromise everything when it sees a another body it feels unconsciously compelled to make a baby with. Your significant other could become mad with jealousy and make your life hell when you're caught eyeing up a particularly attractive person. You might have told yourself to have some dignity and stop sleeping around, but the warm-and-fuzzies brought on by a desirable new acquaintance coax you into one more tryst that will leave you feeling shameful.

And yet here we are, two aspects of a divided being, fighting for the upper hand. And judging by the number of times I've had my ego wrecked because I couldn't keep my pants on, I'd say my body's winning this battle.

At least the Universe has a sense of humor.

Doormat Complex & The One That Got Away.

 

Except that I totally am.

 I don't know how to start this one. I know there's some one out there reading this that may be hurt by what I have to say. Hurting some one I care about is the last thing I want to do, but I know it's some times unavoidable.

   And frankly, I've been hurt so much, I'm starting to think maybe it's time this person got a taste of his own medicine. (P.S.: I re-read this and shivered a little inside: some times my inner Scorpio scares me with that "eye for an eye" shit)

   I know that I can start by saying that none of what I've had to go through with particular person is new to me. My romantic endeavors tend to be quite cyclical, and while I should know by this time what is likely to happen when each new cycle starts, I'll probably follow that familiar course any way. I'm starting to see that it's rooted in the fact that I have an ideal, I have something I know I want to happen in terms of a relationship. Most of me feels like this is a great thing; having an ideal can help me ensure that I won't settle for less than I want or deserve. The other little bit of me thinks it's time to shut that nonsense down.

   Growing up, I never had a relationship to look up to the way most children had. Even kids from divorced families will more than likely get to see their parents interacting with a romantic interest or new spouse. But I never had that. After my mother left my dad, she never had another relationship so I never had anything to base an ideal off of.

   Once I was old enough to become of aware of the fact that one day I would be taking part in the whole relationship thing, I started collecting information from my respective "adoptive moms". To this day the one thing thing in common they all had to say was "Your partner should be both your lover and your best friend." This made perfect sense to me, and still does - especially because I now know from multiple first hand experiences that it's impossible to have a relationship with some one you could never be just friends with for what ever reason (lack of common interest being the main one). I'm sure most people know this - I can't be the only one who falls for her friends all the time, right?

   But getting back to the cycle: Some one came into my life, and he was different than any other. You know how sometimes you're lucky enough to have an instant connection with some one? It was that. I don't know what it was about this person, but I was immediately comfortable and open (where I would normally be quite reserved). He became very dear to me very quickly.

   We were unfortunate in taking what we had to a different level, that perilous realm of intimacy - but fortunate to be able to cultivate a friendship after the fact. But, for me at any rate, the damage was done: I had fallen in love, and a different kind of love than I had previously experienced. I decided to tell him as much and it left me feeling like hell.

   It was easy to convince myself for a long time that  I was over the idea of wanting us to be together. But every now and again I'd spend a little too much time with him and start thinking "Man, how cool would it be to have a relationship with your best friend?" But I'd just keep stamping the notion down and chalking it up to my being lonely.

   But upon deep contemplation, I realized that was simply not the case. I didn't want this person because I couldn't find any one more desirable. I wanted him because I finally felt what it was to fall for some one who felt like a perfect match rather than conceding to settle on some one who was filling a hole (and I do mean in more ways than one). I was never bored with him. He was usually the only one who could make me laugh when my day was shitty. I always felt nice when he held me, even if it was platonic. It killed me to see him sad, and it felt so good when I was able to help him in any little way. I wanted to be that person he'd turn to always.

   Any ways, long story short: my endearing habit of giving some one I love everything I have kicked in, and he loved having some one to care about and take care of him. But I mistook his need for my support as... I don't know. Something it wasn't.

   Whoops. My bad.

And you want to know the sick part? Even knowing I'll probably never get what I want out of this, I'd still drop everything to be there if he needed me, because it truly does kill me to see him unhappy.

   So that's where I am right now. I was mad - livid, really. Now I'm just sad because I never thought I'd have one of those "the one that got away" situations. I always thought that if I was fortunate enough to find some one worth pursuing the way he is, I'd never let them get away.

   Oh, Life. You kind of suck today. 

On lies and being lied to

The thing I am noticing most about these periods of happiness is that they are both a blessing and a torture. They are amazing because I feel back to my old self, and they're torture because, try as I may to remain constantly positive, eventually something will happen to bring me right back down to where I hate being.

I can remain undaunted by one emotional blow. Through a second blow, I can still look on the bright side. But there's only so many little things that can pile on before it becomes too much for me to handle and retaining that optimistic attitude becomes draining. I don't like to give up, and nothing frustrates me more than hearing some one say "Fuck it, I give up." But I'm kind of there, and it feels better than stress.

Any way, moving on. I actually had subject in mind when I started this post, so lets get to it.

Let me paint a picture for you...

 Let's say that you've met some one. They're attractive, interesting, and fun to be around and by some stroke of luck, they are displaying an interest in you. As any one would do, you spend time with that person to determine whether or not a relationship is an endeavour you should bother setting out on. You tell each other about your past, your background, your goals and dreams.

Eventually, the conversation will lead you to more unsavory topics. Let's face it: no one has had a perfect life, and every one makes mistakes. You have to take the bad if you decide to pursue the good. Say, for instance, the conversation leads to the subject of infidelity. You can relay your experiences with it, whether you've cheated or been cheated on. And when you ask person if they've ever cheated on a significant other, they adamantly tell you they've never done it.

Of course, you want to believe what they're telling you is true - you may be the type of person who has complete trust in some one until they've let you down. And of course, the more you become infatuated with this person, the more you want them to be perfect in your eyes so you can justify getting into a relationship with them.

But lets say a few months into knowing this person, they let it slip they had been unfaithful to an old lover or a spouse. What happens then?

On the one hand, it's good to know that this person has been honest in regards to a subject that is touchy with you... but on the other, that person straight-up lied to your face so they would continue to look good in your eyes.

So the million dollar question is: do you continue to trust this person, or is the trust shattered?

If it was me, I'd be very confused about the situation for various reasons, the first being that, while I understand every one's entitled to omit certain information, I cannot stand being lied to. When some one lies to me, I feel like they must think I'm stupid. But I almost always know when I'm being lied to, and I have no qualms with getting to the bottom of it (normally with mad Jedi mind tricks that stun people into telling the truth without realizing). To bring my intelligence into question by lying to me would only be a detriment to the other party, so why bother?

The second issue I take with the scenario is that I don't think I'd like the other party not letting me decide for myself if this was information to take into consideration when deciding how I feel about them. I rarely have an issue with laying everything bare - I know that I appreciate honesty, so I try to be honest in all my dealings - and I don't think it's too much to expect the same.

On the flip-side, I used to be in the habit of overlooking all of potential partners flaws in order for them to remain golden in my eyes. It was really bad habit that I picked up back when I thought being in relationship what paramount and I would do just about anything to make a relationship work. So, if I made the decision to overlook this one lie, would I be reverting to old desperate tendencies?

It's a toughy, right?

The Journey

This long weekend, I made it up to Canmore to spend the holiday with Cuppy-Cake and her family. It was great to get away and spend time with an incredible group of people, and the mountains are like my recharging station. Some times, I don't even know that I need a trip until I get there, and once I do, a sense of peace settles over me, like all is right with my world.

As I noted in an earlier post, I have been feeling lately as though I have lost sight of who I am, or supposed to be. I believe I can attribute a lot of this struggle with depression to my slight identity crisis. But by chance I found myself this weekend at a little second-hand bookstore in a basement in Canmore. 

Cuppy had been raving about this little treasure for weeks: it's one of her favorite places in the world and as an avid reader myself, I thought I would enjoy it, too. Only, out of the hundreds of books there, I couldn't find a single thing I wanted to read. I looked and looked, I poked in the dark recesses and saw plenty of things that seemed interesting but nothing that shouted "Buy me! You need me!". It left me feeling very dejected - I never have bad luck finding something to bring home from a book store. Finally, once all the rest of the company had made their purchases and we were getting ready to leave the store, my hand fell onto a book by one of my favorite authors, one that I hadn't had the opportunity to read yet. I scrabbled it up and immersed myself into the book as soon we got back to our suite.

If I was feeling like I had lost my way before, it was nothing compared to how I began to feel reading this book. It was a tale of the authors personal journey of self-discovery and every word I read made me realize just how far from myself that I have strayed the last few years. It was both a shock and a blessing. A shock because I had no idea it had been happening - and certainly not for that long - and a blessing because I know it's never too late to make changes. And this book presented its self to me as a sign to do just that.

Once upon a time, I was a deeply spiritual person. The magic and mystery of the universe was always at the forefront of my mind. I prayed often and looked to signs to help guide me. I also had a very real idea of where I wanted my path to lead me. I knew I wanted to do things that would make a difference in the world, change lives and help guide me to my highest and best self. And throughout all of this, I was deeply at peace. 

I see now, more clearly than ever, that I have changed - I've become almost unrecognizable to myself. The old me would never have questioned the idea of being visited in dreams by a departed friend. She wouldn't   have let days go by (let alone years) without stopping and wondering at the beauty to be found every where. And she certainly would never have doubted that Universe was working with her and for her in order for her to reach her highest potential. 

Some where along the way, I lost that part of me. I moved and met new friends. I took a job where I never thought I'd find myself (but, hey, bills have too be paid). I met a man that knew nothing of spirituality other than what he had been taught in church. Now, I work a job with no meaning aside from getting other peoples paper work done in a timely fashion. I've stopped drawing. I stopped sitting under trees and contemplating  on what it was to be part of something so huge and feeling that, despite my smallness, I was an important piece to the big puzzle. And most importantly, I find myself cut off the world I knew and loved and I feel separated and often horribly alone. 

I think back to a brief but poignant conversation I had three years ago with my boss - the one from the store where we sold overpriced clothes produced in third world countries. I was trying to explain to this boss what a "hippie" I had been in Calgary. I used to pray, and have bonfires with singing and dancing. I'd paint murals of mandalas on the walls my friends houses and make wooden jewelry with my sister. I had been a vegan, and even did the raw food thing s for while. I worked at a holistic clinic where they not only treated the body with things like massage and acupuncture, but they treated the soul, too, with reiki and psychic guidance. 

At the end of my story, my boss, this woman with an elegantly put-together outfit and lips painted my favorite shade black cherry, leans back and laughs. She shakes her head, almost knowingly and sais "And then you traded it all in for makeup and pretty clothes, and lived happily ever after." At the time I laughed it off. After all, what did she know? But I should have seen right away that what she said was becoming true, and I should have made it stop right then and there.

The journey home from my trip this weekend was a wonderful time of contemplating on all the things I used to, and touching on new and ever more fantastic things to consider. The beauty of the mountains, the way the elements work together was much deeper than I had ever realized, the connectivity I feel to certain people as though we had been placed before each other for some greater reason than just to say "Hi" in passing. 

I have changed and now something needs to happen in order for me to find my way back to me. I need to find what it is help me to get to my higher self. I must have missed a lot of signs attempting to show me what was happening and how to get back on my path. I only hope I still have the eyes to see these sign

I have to sleep and pray that that something will become clearer for me in the new day.

I'm Fine (and by "fine" I mean "faking it")

Sometimes I wonder just how many people out there might be going through a tough time when we've been conditioned to be "fine" all the time. A coworker or friend will ask "How's it going?" and automatically we say "Good!", even when we're not good at all. I know that the level of enthusiasm in my own voice is a tell as to just how shitty I really am. Like if I'm having a meh day and you ask, I'll say "Meh, you know how it is." But if I'm losing my shit, I'll shove "I'M FANTASTIC" down your throat so you can't tell otherwise. I can feel the crazy-eyes happening, but I hope no one can see it. 

And now that I think about it, that isn't the only time I find myself pretending to be something I'm not. The biggest instance is when I get quiet. When I'm happy (or distracted, depends on the day) I am animated and chatty. I love interacting and laughing and being ridiculous normally. But sometimes I'll forget I'm not alone and spend a little too much time in silence. The other party will ask "Are you ok? You're so quiet!" and I'll tell them "I have a headache, weird!" or "I dunno, I guess I just lost my steam, LOL SORRY GUYS!"

If I'm having a bad go of it, why shouldn't I be able to say "Well, I ran out of clean socks today, but I unknowingly spent my last $10 on a pack of smokes so I had to do laundry in my bathtub because my coin card was empty." or "Well, I was feeling sad, but then I spoke to a friend about the passing away of her husband and now I just feel like a complete fucking douche."?

Well, of course, I know why: the first reason being that I'd make people sad or uncomfortable. How are you supposed to keep up the semblance of "fine" when some crazy woman is telling you her whole sad life story  and dragging you down?

And secondly, I don't want to worry my loved ones, and I certainly don't want anyone to think I am incapable to handling my life. Then, God forbid, some one might offer me help - and that just can't happen since, even though I'd love to take you up on the offer (because, in reality, I do need help), my conditioning and pride simply won't allow it.

C'est la vie, am I right?

I don't feel like faking it today.

Monks & Onesies

 If you have the time, watch this video:

 Among all of the articles, blogs, and youtube videos about dealing with depression, this is likely best I have ever come across. It was nice to be hear the little truths we know but tend to overlook (and it was nice to be reminded of why I got my most recent tattoo, "This too shall pass").

Also, I watched the Hobbit (again) last night, and there's been something bothering me all day...

How in the fuck did they manage to put pony onesies on all those horses?

Another Win!

I had the most marvelous conversation with Elle today! I got such good input and came away with something that I think will really help with the whole cycle of self-loathing. I think that there's a part of me that always knew this, but the pattern of feeling unworthy and less-than has stopped me from really believing it:

The fact of the matter is that, despite the depression, I am great. There's nothing about me that makes me less worthy of good things happening to me than any one else out there - something I get to show the world all the time. I may be fickle, and often I am too honest for some people to handle. Every body's got their flaws, right? But you'd be hard-pressed to find some one who cares more and loves harder than me. I may not have much, but I'd give it all up to help a friend, and that's pretty special. I know that I greatly value that quality in others, so shouldn't value it myself as well? 

And it's not a boastful thing to say, by any means! I know that after years, a lifetime really, of feeling like I was not good enough it's hard to say things like this without sounding conceited. But I'm trying it out and finding it's not so bad. And unlike my previous posts where I was simply stating positive mantras in the hopes that I would feel better soon, this time I truly believe it. 

I'm not cured or any thing like that, but I have another tool to help me win at life and that's a start!

The little things

Sometimes, when I'm standng in the snow and I've just realized that maybe my choice in footwear was probably not a good one and my morning is looking bleak, I look to the person on my right and think:

"At least I'm not a meth-head."

And I know the day will be all right because I can appreciate the little things.

I can do this, yes? No. Wait... yes.

Ok, some how I managed to get through the day. By some stroke of luck, I didn't lose my job or ruin any relationships. I should feel accomplished for having displayed any strength at all when, frankly, I would have liked to just off myself in order to not have to go through this downward spiral again, right? Wrong. Instead, I just feel embarrassed by what a complete fucking moron I must have looked like today. 

I know, I know - can't help the way I feel, don't beat myself over it, only making things worse, blahblah whatever the fuck. I really am trying to take the tools Elle has given me and use them to beat this funk. But the lack of control over my self feels like a weakness on my part, and I abhor weakness. If I thought I could manage it, I would force myself to get better just prove I could do it (because there's not much I enjoy more than proving someone wrong), but there's no way of knowing how I'm going to feel in two fucking hours, so chances are I'll start and then give up because "it's all so pointless". Or I'll snap out this and forget there's anything to be down about till next time. Who knows? It all depends on what life and my brain throw at me next.

You see what I have to deal with? I'll be fine, amazing even, and one little thing will get me down. If I don't pick myself up right away, other little triggers will start to pile on, like a ball of shit being rolled around by a dung beetle*. Eventually I will start feel so down that I begin to resent myself, and that's where the self-loathing kicks in. Inevitably, something good will happen - like hanging out with a friend, reciting all the lines from nostalgia-inducing 80's movie ("FIGHT THE SADNESS, ARTAX!"), or pissing my pants laughing over an internet meme - that I forget there's anything wrong. And thus we come full circle. 

" I am an educated white female living in the third best rated city in Canada. I have all of my appendages plus (as a bonus) huge tits, manageable hair, great legs and bangin' eyebrows. I am laden with skills both necessary (cooking, sewing, hygiene, shoelace-tying) and inane (butter-churning, mirror-writing, song-memorizing) and I am sponge for random facts. My need to absorb new information constantly means that I am rarely bored. I live all on my own, which I understand is something many people are incapable of doing for various reasons.  I have lots of gadgets on which to read books and listen to music (which are essential to me) and I managed to score all the furniture after my first serious breakup. I have good relationship with my sister and some of the best friends any one could ask for."

So these are the things I need to focus on, although it's exhausting to put that much effort into positive thinking when half of my mind seems to be fighting against it. I'm told that eventually it'll become second nature to look on the bright side automatically, like remembering to put on deodorant every morning. I sure as shit hope so, because I like depression as much as I like B.O..

Which is not at all.

*(I realize that I could have just as easily gone with the snowball analogy, but that's just the kind of day I've been having.)

These are a few of my favorite things

"God grant me the serenity

to accept the things I cannot change;

the courage to change the things I can;

and the wisdom to know the difference."

It's easy to get down on myself, taking on the mentality I have in some way failed. Truth be told, I am proud of myself for being brave and trying to change a situation I believed I could control. I'm proud that I could see past the potential for heartache and tried to do something I thought could make me happy. I wish I could say that I was successful and didn't end up in pain after all. But I guess, in wanting so badly, I forgot that things simply cannot be in my control when another party is involved. 

I tried my best, though, and I have to believe that counts for something. 

I would like to say I had a good day and, to an extent, I did. I laughed a lot and worked just hard enough to feel accomplished. But I still have lot on my emotional plate I have to move on from. There's still this undercurrent of melancholy inside threatening to drag me down. 

I need a pick-me-up. Let's see if Julie Andrews knew what she was talking about. In no particular order, things that I love and that I am grateful for:

• Coffee
• Conversation
• Laughing
• Singing
• My phone full of music
• Reading
• Harry Potter
• Drinking
• White wine
• Eating
• youTube
• T-Rexs 
• Sausage
• Sex
• Kissing
• Men's scruffy faces
• Cooking
• Baking
• Thunder storms
• Sex during thunder storms
• Shoes
• Magazines
• Gem stone jewelry
• Letters (real ones, not that e-mail shit.)
• Movies
• LOTR
• Mountains
• Kaslo
• Colors
• Red Velvet anything
• Photography
• Silver
• Organizing
• Sisters
• Men (when they're behaving.)
• Ladies (when they're nice to look at)
• Tits ('cause, hey, they're fun)
• Camping
• Swimming
• Pizza
• Pasta
• Dark Chocolate
• Art Galleries
• Concerts
• Road trips
• S'mores
• Peacock feathers
• Owls
• Tattoos
• Trees
• Gerber Daisies
• Pianos
• Lakes
• Swear words
• Graphic t-shirts
• Slumber parties
• Restful sleep

Back on Track... ish

Pretty amazing what a slumber party can do for your mood. I love my Cuppy-Cake and her Hubby-Boo, and I feel fucking fantastic.

Now, when I feel slightly more alert, I will be sure to write an actual post...

Ok, I am feeling much more alert, and not nearly so high as I was before. This shitty feeling is caused by two things and, on top of being a little crazy, I am apparently also a masochist.

At the risk of sounding really hoakey, I have a serious problem with empathy - meaning that peoples emotions affect me on a very visceral level. It's something I've always been aware of but up until recently I had no idea how negative an impact it could have. Don't get me wrong, having compassion can be an amazing thing. Being able to put yourself in someone else's shoes can lend great perspective. And getting a sense of another's happiness can lift your own spirits. But on the other hand, feeling someone's despair and grief so clearly that you can't tell if it's your own emotions you're feeling can be unbearable.

So when someone I care about very deeply is in pain, it can hit me like a ton of bricks. I know that I can't carry burdens for them, but I wish with all my heart I could.

On a completely different note, I tend to let myself get confused in my feelings towards people. I wish I could say after ten years I've learned a thing or two, but I have had no such luck. And now I'm in a weird place where it kills me to be see a loved one in distress - almost as much as it kills me that I can't be enough for them. It's a helplessness coming in from two sides, and I stand the chance of being completely consumed if I can't be strong.

So, here's an epiphany: it's my turn to be strong for no one but myself. It's time to care about me as much, if not more, than every body else. 

On Living Fearlessly

"Living Fearlessly" is perhaps not an apt title. Fear is inevitable - especially where you and your feelings are concerned. No one likes to be hurt, so most of us make our decisions based on what we think will cause the least amount of pain. But this is a big problem. You see, if you're making choices or - maybe worse - choosing inaction  based on fear, you shut yourself off from the possibility of so much happiness.

So, you want to quit the lucrative job you hate and pursue a fun career that pays less? Sure, you may struggle with money a little if you do, but doesn't being "happily employed!" sound so much nicer than just "ugh, employed"? 

You think you maybe you'd like to try to make things work your ex - but it blew up in your face once before,  who's to say it won't happen again? Or worse, what if you put your heart out there and are flat-out rejected?  Sounds awful, right?  So rather than making any choice at all, you just sit in limbo and see what happens. 

You struggle with negative thoughts and depression. You know you can ask for help, but there's a niggling fear that, even if you seek the help you need, you'll fail and never get yourself out of this funk. Surely not trying at all feels better than failure?

You know what you need to do. What are you waiting for? Quit that job, profess your love, ask for help! You could be successful in more important ways than financially, missing out on the bliss of a mended relationship or letting altogether new happiness pass you by. You'll never know, because you never tried. 

It can be hard - believe me, I know - to follow to your heart to happiness when your brain is doing this: 

But you have to fucking power though it. The bumps along the way are well worth the reward.

Hobo Soup

Note to Future Self:

Today, I made hobo soup. It sounds a lot worse than it tastes (which is pretty yummy, if I do say so myself), it's nutritious and it's cheap as fuck to make. All you need is:

1 onion 

3-4 cloves garlic

3 carrots

3 celery stalks

1 lb potatoes

1 lb ground beef (but pork is cheaper)

1 can red beans

1 can crushed tomatoes

Oxo cubes

Salt, pepper, Italian herb blend (or whatever you've got on hand. Get creative, bitch)

In a big-ass soup pot, brown meat. Sweat mirepoix. Dump in remaining ingredients with enough water to cover the veg. Cook that shit for an hour, eat like a boss for days.

Total: $15.81

Number of servings: Infinite (seriously, I'm pretty sure this shit regenerates its self nightly...)

It blows to be broke all the time (trust me, I know), but you're a smart cookie. You know you will always have every  thing you need, if not every thing you want. You're always good for paying rent and bills (not always on time), so kudos to you. So as long as you have $15, you can feed yourself for a week. 

Remember, you will not be a broke-ass joke forever. This too shall pass.

PS: Future self? Go easy on the canned tomatoes next time. You know they give you heartburn...

Will Power

When I was 21, The Secret told me that if I wanted to attract a man into my life, I had to act as though he was already there. I should try and sleep on one side of the bed instead of the middle.I should empty out half of my closet for his clothes. And in a strange way, it worked. That is, I spent a lot of time in my bedroom with a particular man. It didn't turn into anything, but it did work...

I am a firm in believer in a Divine Power. Being raised by an atheist mother, I was never exposed to the religious portrayal of a bearded man in the sky, watching over us all and judging. When I think of "God", it's not an entity separate from the world, but in every part of it - or rather, it is every part of it. It's the molecules and the force that causes them to group together to form the physical and it's the energy that makes up our egos and souls. So, in my opinion, we are all connected to the world and each other on much deeper levels than "we're all human and we inhabit the Earth" because we are all, in essence, "God". And as such, we have it in us to change the world. This is will power and prayer in effect, and when you  become aware of the power you have to bring things into your life, it's a wonderful liberating feeling.

Often times it feels as though the world is working against you, it's deliberately stopping you from achieving your goals or finding your happiness. I truly believe that this is not the case. The world is actually conspiring to bring you all that you require to live your  life to its fullest. If you're not being given exactly what you want, it's probably because it's not the right time for it, or maybe what you think you want is simply not what's best for you. And frankly, you have to work hard and experience suffering to get what you want. After all, how will you know you've got a good thing if you've never had the bad?