Life is What Happens While You Are Making Other Plans

The week has been filled with other events besides my writing. Thanks for hanging in there with me until I get back on track.

Today is Tuesday—yes, I know, I’m blogging late, but I had things in mind to write, just not time to tell them.

I wanted to talk about the takeaways I got from this past week.

Number One, The Buddhist’s Peace Walk:

 

 

I’m so impressed with the monks who make no political statements, no religious judgements, just walk to awaken Peace. And many people are responding. It is a great attention getter and people need a leader, so they rally. And so am I, for they have touched my heart.

They made me rethink the search for happiness everyone talks about. “Search for Peace.” That sounds more doable. We can’t be happy all the time, but we could be peaceful in our bodies, in thought and deed, and let happiness come as a surprise, a gift, a blessing.

The monks just walk, and Aloka, the Peace Dog, trots along, although now he is in recovery from surgery, and I’m glad they are taking good care of him.

And their walk added perspective to the hours I needed for a Continuing Education Real Estate Course I didn’t want to take.

Thirty hours were easy compared to walking 2,300 miles in 120 days.

Takeaway from my Course:

“Let’s sell the Tiny House on April 11, 2026 ,” I tell my daughter, “in honor of the Fair Housing Act of April 11, 1968.

That act was a Humongous TURNING POINT for the country and for human rights.

In 1968, President Lyndon B. Johnson pushed through the Fair Housing Act. This was when riots were happening, and America was in the midst of unrest. President Johnson called Congress and said, “Pass that Bill!”

The bill, which had been debated to the nth degree with strong opposition, passed the following day.

Now, no person can be denied the purchase of a house based on color, race, Natural Origin, familial rights (children), disabilities, or sex. Elder rights came next. And the Disability and sex (it didn’t make sex illegal, it allowed a single woman to buy a house) came a couple of years later.

Here’s our Tiny House on day one:

 

Today, the Tiny House is not complete, but it is close.

Daughter Dear has no time to complete it, although it was dear to her heart when she began renovating it, and she’s good at bashing out walls, tiling, and adding exquisite features.

A buyer with a few hours could complete it.

She worked her fingers to the bone, and we found that a small house needs the same as a big house, just everything scrunched into a small space. The plumbing is in, the electricity was professionally installed, it’s piped for water, has a wall heater, kitchen cabinets, and an under-the-counter refrigerator. No countertop. We have the sink and bamboo flooring that need completion. DD tiled a complete wall in the kitchen and a complete bathroom with a tiled shower large enough for two people, or maybe a Great Dane dog.

The wall between the bathroom and the “living room,” which will be a bedroom at night, is still studs only. A mirrored wall there would give the illusion of a larger space, if an owner could stand to look at themselves that much.

Well, this sounds like a sales pitch. I wanted you to know what we are dealing with. And that my Real Estate course made me want to honor the FHA.

Three: Surprise,

The course mentioned the vagus nerve, and that it takes up more space in our bodies than our skin. It is there to connect to the amygdala of the brain, the seat of our feelings of unease and for telegraphing danger. It has kept us alive for millennia, though not in a fail-safe way, for we have developed so much logic that we talk ourselves out of intuitive feelings, sometimes saying it is only our imagination.

Real Estate Agents go into dangerous places sometimes, empty houses, warehouses, lofts, at night sometimes. The idea is to be focused and aware.

I was struck this week by a lecture on the Native Nations of  North America—how long they have been here, and that they had some of the same social issues we have—like fighting each other, and territorial disputes.

Sometimes you know something, but then later you really get it. That was the way I was with society and culture. I wondered how people like Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Leonardo da Vinci, and Jesus could be so wise in times of barbarism.

Like, suddenly brilliance pops up.

It’s that we have cultures within our society. We have skin heads, KKK members living alongside Priests and Saints, and monks who do not proselytize, yet get verbally attacked for not being Christian. We have Southern, Northern, Midwest, Rural, and Urban inhabitants.

We have people who want to bomb entire areas back to the Stone Age, while others say, “Don’t do it.” “Your decision effects the rest of us.”

See how anger gets attention, and a soft voice hardly raises an eyebrow? Yet silence--it seems that the monks are on to something, walk, meditate, be in relaxed focus, make a statement, push yourself for a cause. 

We have progressive personalities and Conservative personalities of varying degrees, some are genetically predetermined, some are taught.

And then we try to have a Democracy where the majority rules.

It’s tricky.

 

Here is the Tiny House now, we had it pushed in under a high overhead to keep it out of the weather, and to allow DD easy access to materials in the garage a few feet away. The trouble is, our wonderful creative House mover, moved himself to Eastern Oregon, and now we must find a way to get the house back out. 

.

• "Life is pretty simple:
  You do some stuff. Most fails. Some works.
  You do more of what works."

  --Leonardo da Vinci

 

 

"Obi-Wan, I Need Your Help."

 

"The curiosity and connection that create the Eureka effect rely on parts of the brain that don't feel fear."—Martha Beck.

 

 

Really?

 

I thought fear was all-pervasive. Yet, as I think about it, fear comes from our primitive brain stem, the part that's into survival.

 

Martha is right; it doesn't come from the creative side. 

 

That must be why we feel happy when we are into some creative endeavor or when faced with a problem whose solution has stumped us, if we let it sit a while, Eureka, "Out of the blue," comes the answer.

 

I know, however, that while the right side of our brains is creative, and it's so much fun to be in that space, I did not know it was fearless. The other side must creep in.

 

I've been hearing more and more that scientists are trying to pinpoint where consciousness lies and, so far, haven't been able to do it. They are pretty sure it doesn't reside in the brain as we have been led to believe. 

 

Don't we think with our brains? Doesn't it feel like it is coming from our heads? Yes, but what about those moments of transcendence where something comes to us from out of that blue space?

 

The first time l experienced an out-of-the-blue thought where I got the message that we can KNOW as a teenager.

 

This is silly, a trivial little thing, but it impacted me.

 

I had taken a knit dress to the cleaners, and when I picked it up, it was wrapped in brown paper like a package. I absolutely knew the belt wasn't in that package. But I didn't want to tell them, thus committing to such boldness, so I went to the car, opened the package, verified that the belt wasn't there, returned to the shop, and told them the belt was missing. They found it and gave it to me.

 

I have mentioned I am writing a memoir. This memoir could also fit into the Memoir/autobiography/travel/adventure/special interest categories. Every time I say I'm writing a memoir, I sound arrogant. Then I remind myself I do not know anyone better than I know myself.

 

Perhaps people will want to read it; perhaps they won't. Perhaps it will inspire others to write their memoir; maybe it won't. Either way, come hell or high water, I'm doing it. I mentioned I wrote 50,000 words in 30 days, but that doesn't mean it is complete; it just means I got words on the page, and now I am faced with a mess. 

 

Natalie Goldberg (Old Friend from Far Away), my inspiration, says you can write many memoirs in your life; every time you write one, you will be at a different place. And don't write about dreary stuff; you can write about pain, for that's a part of life, but generally, write about what takes your breath away.

 

Yesterday I was writing about Spankings, and I made this statement: 

 

"I don't know why it is embarrassing to be spanked like it is embarrassing to be bullied, molested, or unloved."

 

The moment I wrote the above sentence, I got the answer. 

 

When Joseph McClendon III talked about sleeping in a box in Lancaster, California, after somebody tried to kill him because of the color of his skin, he thought, "If someone would do that to me, there must be something wrong with me."

 

That's it. 

 

As McClendon erroneously thought there was something wrong with him, kids probably think there is something wrong with them and that they deserve punishment.

 

There was nothing wrong with McClendon, as there is nothing wrong with kids who get hit for some infraction. They are kids, remember?

 

I wonder how much punishment contributes to our culture's prevailing "I'm not good enough" syndrome. I'm not good enough to be loved. I'm not good enough to find a mate. I'm not good enough to write a good book, a play, a symphony, paint a picture or start a business. 

 

"I've been bad and deserve to be hit. I am a girl, a less desirable weaker sex, and I must keep my mouth shut. Boys will be boys, you know." 

 

Auugh.

 

That's the biggest Bullshit I have ever heard. 

 

I told you I was a Badass in training.

 

I will ask for pre-sales for the book PAINTING A LIFE from a Badass in Training by Jewell D. That way, I can hit the ground running when the book is launched. Getting sales right away is the best way to get a higher rating on Google.

 

"Obi-Wan, I need your help."

 

You can tell me you're willing to join my pre-sales campaign if you want to. Pre-sales are only charged once a book is launched.

 

So, nobody will be charged if it never gets off the launching pad.

 

Over and out, have fun, be creative, do a little dance.