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Thursday, July 18, 2024

Woo Woo Alert

 

Woo, woo, alert!

What if…

Money isn’t the issue in winning the election.

What if all the money in the world wouldn’t put Trump in the White House.

What if Jean Huston is correct in saying we are standing on the precipice of stepping into our Quantum Powers? We are, she says, in the middle of a time between going on with the way things have been, or entering a new Quantum Field.

Jean explains that Quantum Power is partnering with the Universe. This isn’t the Law of Attraction; it is being a partner.

Once, Jean asked Margaret Mead, the famed anthropologist living with her and her husband, why she was so lucky.

“Because I expect to be,” she said.

New science has emerged in the last few years about consciousness, epigenetics, genes turning off and on, NDEs all that tell us that “not only do we live in the Universe, the Universe lives in us.

Aren’t we tired of dragging around our little egos while being overwhelmed by the business of day-to-day living? We are in a state of entropy—meaning falling into chaos.

So, send your mind to graduate school.

We are the people.

I grieved for a couple of days, depressed to the point of snapping at everybody. It was the Trump threat, and to top it off, Elon Musk joined the fray and gave 45 million dollars a month to the Trump campaign. I was drawn into fear. And boy, are they going to beat the drum regarding that?

What if we didn’t buy it?

Yesterday, I listened to a promotional for another course—yep, it was Jean Huston’s—but boy, she gave it to us for 90 minutes. She said that we are the ones who we came at this time for a reason, that the Universe is a microcosm that comes alive with our life, and that we are the people to usher in a new day.

You are being called. The world needs goodness and intention.

We can drop our disbelief in ourselves. We have been caught in the web of the same old feeling that there is no way out and that we are running out of time. (Hey, I’ve stuck in the Second World War.)

We have a bigger message to give to the world—and the old operating system isn’t working. When we drop that, we will feel inspired, evolve, and expand. Then we will be able to manifest our vision.

 

One day when Jean and Mead were walking along a path, with Mead complaining that she couldn’t find some information she needed for a talk the following day. She had searched and searched and couldn’t find it. Not a few minutes later, a student walking toward them stopped and said, “Professor Mead, you probably don’t remember me, but I was a student of yours.”

“Oh yes I remember you, class of 1991, You didn complete your paper.”

Well, the girl said that she went on to Graduate School, and I have been studying whatever right then, Mead needed.

Mead grabbed her and said, “You’re coming home with me.”

She’s lucky because she expects to be. (That core belief overrides her complaining. See, a little complaining won’t push our good away from us. We can stop feeling guilty about it. But don’t turn into a complainer.)

We can expect that Trump will not win this election. He will not be in the White House.

Jean used Plato’s The Allegory of the Cave as a model for the Nature of Reality—of which we know little. Long ago, Plato proposed that we all live in a cave behind a wall, and what we see are only shadows cast by the fire. We think the shadows are real. However, they are only illusions.

If we crawled out of the cave and looked back, we would see the real things. But at first the light is so bright it hurts our eyes, and we are tempted to turn back.

Don’t go back, no matter how bright the light is.

I am finally getting it. Evil is upping the ante because it is afraid it will fail.

It behaves the way our minds behave; in fear, our brains spill chemicals and put us in flight or fight mode. In time, too much cortisol can weaken our hippocampus, change our brain chemistry, and create a craving for the next high, the cortisol and adrenalin rush.

We can become addicted to it. Notice how we keep looking, listening, and reading about what happens daily in the political field. The ones who think Trump is stupid look for more to make us laugh at him. The others say, “That’s my boy.”

They’ve got us.

Women have been known as carriers of the light. Don’t ask me where I got that—long ago. Of course, the powers that be knew women had power; why do you think they punished or burnt women for the simple act of using their intuition or trying to heal with natural products, a placebo, or positive thoughts. Horrors.

Why do you think they kept women uneducated to the point of keeping books away from them? Why do you think they kept them from voting? Why do you think they kept them barefoot and pregnant? The men went to prostitutes for their jollies, then defamed them for being sluts. They grabbed women, molested them, and victimized them because they could. And women’s work? It used to be that a man wouldn’t touch a dish, a dish pan, or sweep the floor. Change a baby? Horrors.

Let’s follow our calling and say, “We’re mad as hell and we aren’t going to take it anymore.”

You can’t use our biology against us. We can bring forth new life, but our bodies are ours.  We will share our bodies under our own terms. Controllers, Priests, and Kings have, since the beginning of recorded history, kept women subservient and interfered with their reproductive rights. They drummed women out of votes, religion, education, and realistic paying jobs.

The buck stops here.

Are we going to keep a rapist, a bully, a liar, and a cheat out of the White House?

 How dare he and his cohorts treat us with contempt.

What if we don’t care how much money people or candidates have? We are the people. We can talk, we have pens to write, we have a voice, and we have a vote.

We need our sisters.

Women, we can do it!

 

“When you stop operating from an old operating system, you will feel inspired, evolving, and expanding, and you won’t feel overwhelmed.

‘You will be able to manifest your vision.”—Jean Huston.

 

 

 


 

 

 

Tuesday, May 7, 2024

"Write a Sad Story and People Will Buy It."

Really?

Sure, we like drama. We mainly want it when sitting by the fireplace, snuggling with the dog, reading a good book, or watching a movie. We can have a good cry or thrill to the music of young lovers. Does boy get girl? We can shudder while we identify with our hero snowshoeing across the 40% below zero Tundra while being stalked by a Polar Bear in competition with a pack of wolves, all vying for his tender flesh. OMG, the hero slipped into the icy water—that's sure death in that temperature. 

But in life, most people say they want to be happy. That's my wish and that of most people I know. Writing is a therapeutic experience, so I am encouraging you to write your own story.

Writing about your life is better than an after-death life review, for you can choose the moments. 

Last week, I talked of spankings, and my heart ached when I got a response from a reader who said she cried with her brother after he was whipped with a belt or a rubber hose to punish him for wetting the bed. Something he couldn't control. (She buried all three of those torture devices in rabbit holes.) Those parents would be too ashamed to go to a therapist. Whoa. I have a good friend who got whipped by her mother with a leather belt with the buckle out. I don't know for what. Being there, most likely. She grew up to marry a man that also hit her. She didn't spank her children, though. One day, she threatened her son, and he yelled, "Child abuse! Child abuse!" 

She laughed and hugged him.


Thursday, May 2, 2024

What About Your Life? Chapter 20

  

Chapter 20

What about Your Life?


My mother believed in spanking her children, but only she was permitted to do it. 

She told me that once she spanked me for so long, she felt guilty. I had scattered shoe trees my father had brought home from the shoe factory about the yard but wouldn't pick them up. No matter how much she hit me, I wouldn't do it. Finally, she took my hand, and we picked them up together. Which is what she should have done in the first place. I was so young I don't remember it.

I slightly remember being switched on the legs with a cherry tree twig, but I don't know what I did to deserve it. I vaguely remember the dancing and stinging. The only spanking I remember was when I was 7 or 8 after our move to the Dalles. I was horsing around with a cereal box and a bowl stacked on top of it. The bowl fell and broke. Mom grabbed me, and me being a big kid by then, she clumsily turned me over her knee and whacked me on the butt. It was kind of funny, really, and I realized it didn't hurt. Spankings always hurt my feelings, though, and I never believed I deserved them.

And they teach children to hit. 

Once, when I was new to Mike and Mom's family and playing with paper dolls, the cat, thinking that paper looked like a fun plaything, pounced into the pile of paper and stirred it around, as cats are apt to do. I hit the cat. Immediately, Mike hit me. 

Shocked, I ran to my room. Mom talked with Mike; he came into my room, apologized, and never struck me again. I believe Mom thought a man should never hit a girl, and I agree—neither should a woman. "Spare the rod and spoil the child" caused many a blistering.

Once, when my two girls and I had been biking, I don't remember what precipitated the tantrum, but my oldest daughter threw herself to the ground, and I smacked her thigh. 

My youngest daughter exclaimed, "Mother! How could you?!"

My mother must have been spanked. I don't know about it. She adamantly believed you should never slap anyone. And with children, you only swat them on the butt…or legs.

(Oh my, could it be that I have trouble with my lower extremities from those days?  I called my daughter and apologized for smacking her.)

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

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

When Joseph McClendon was 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 something was wrong with him, kids probably believe something is wrong with them that they deserve such treatment.

Nothing was wrong with McClendon, as there is nothing wrong with kids who get hit for some infraction. They're kids, remember? It's a quick, lazy fix for a parent. 

Although I remember a group of mothers, a continuation of a childbirth class, who got together for a time afterward. One said, "Maybe a swat isn't worse than being yelled at."

Indeed, are those the only choices? 

I wonder how much spanking contributes to the prevailing "I'm not good enough syndrome," which is rampant in our culture. I'm not good enough to be loved, find a mate, 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 must keep my mouth shut. Boys will be boys, you know." 

Auugh.

That's the biggest Bullshit I've ever heard. 

When Joseph McClendon lived in the box, a man gave him a book.

The book was Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill.

He read it and returned it to the man who had given it to him, understanding that when someone offers you a gift, you should give them something in return.

The man said to pass it on, not the book specifically, but the principles. Now McClendon is a neuropsychologist in LA and a presenter at some of Tony Robbin's events. "It isn't the motivation," he says, "it's the 'Do."

When you have the idea—take immediate action to make it work. 

 Okay, here goes:

I have an issue with asking people for money. I want to write professionally, and I'm happy to serve readers. Yet, given how much hype, pressure, cajoling, bribing, and trickery (like fake fonts that look like you have gotten a personal letter when it's an ad, for heaven's sake), I have the impression that people pay only when they get cajoled into it, or have to.

I, too, pay for things because I have to. You don't get a beer at a ball game without paying for it. If I order a meal, I must pay for it. I buy groceries, pay the mortgage, pay the electric bill, the phone company, the Internet service, and the garbage collection company because those things would disappear if I didn't pay them.

But what about giving freely? 

Once, I got $100 from my dad and decided we should do something outrageous with it. So,  a pile of kids climbed into my daughter's Rabbit convertible. She drove us to La Jolla, California, an affluent community—because we wanted to support abundance. I had purchased A Course in Miracles Cards, and we stapled a dollar bill to a card, drove down the street, and gave away all 100 one-dollar bills.

The kids had a blast and said, "When you feel like doing something outrageous again, call us."

They probably wanted that money but gave it freely and had fun doing it. 

I notice I strayed from my process by saying something contradictory to my previous statement that I wouldn't pay unless I had to. It's fascinating how the mind wants to distract us. 

Giving my writing away for free lets me avoid rejection. That's my belief, but it's only a belief. Beliefs can be rock-solid, so the trick is to replace them with a different one. 

The trick is to let go of tired old excuses and to go for what you want.

Now, what about your life? 



Here is what to expect:

 

Table of Contents

    1. Your Story Matters     

2. A Tweety Bird, A Father, and a Water fight

      3. Meeting My Father    

 4. Reboot

          5.  Stories

      6. On a Zig of Was It A Zag?    

 7. And Then Came the Day  

 8. A Mentor

9.   Hog Heaven

10. Silver

11. Boots

12. C-r-a-c-k

   13. My Mother Kept Hiding Anything Sexual from Me

14.You Can’t Edit a Blank Page

  15. Green Apples and Salt

16. Tomatoes

17.  You Know What

18.  Ode to Tuna Fish

19.  Licorice

20.  What about Your Life?

21.  The Grand Canyon of Your Mind

22.  We Aren’t in Kansas Anymore

23.  Can I Hold Fred?

24.  Type Faster

25.  Getting Published

26.  Ten Thousand

27.  A Blubber of a Balloon

28.  What a Difference 40 Years Makes

29.  Thursday

30.  Judgments

31.  Wordlessness

32.  What in the Heck is a Channel?

33.  Bizarre Thoughts

34.  On the Road

35.  On Davis Mountain

36.  A Star Fell on Junction City

37.  This Was a Real Nice Clambake*

38.  A Six- Foot Rattle Snake

39.  Funny

40.  Hi Jack

41.  Why is The Sky Blue?

42.  Did the Big Bang Bang?

43.  What On Earth Have I Done?

44.  Death by Morphine

45.  What? Hawaii Again?

46.  Fleeing the Island

47.  Stand Up

48.  A Typo

49.  June

50.  Bill Fisher

51.  Jewell

52.  A Well-Written Miserable Story

53.  Sunday, May 28, 2023

54.  I Named Him Gabriel

55.  What We Need is a Wise Grandmother

56.  The Chicago Book Fair

57.  Art is anything You Can Get Away With*

58.  Prince Charming

59.  Aloha

60.  May 31, 2023, 50,000 words and a P.S.