tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43636360417765435182024-03-08T07:27:33.953-08:00Wishweaver Musings From Laura HandkeWishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.comBlogger131125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-84728627189037732112015-01-01T17:27:00.002-08:002015-01-01T17:27:30.192-08:00Simply Authentic Blog Location Has Moved!All activity for this blog has been relocated to <a href="http://laurahandke.com/">http://laurahandke.com/</a>. Please check in with us there! <br />
<br />
Authentically Yours, <br />
<br />
LauraWishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-27642876021599156992014-11-09T18:31:00.000-08:002014-11-09T18:31:07.839-08:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Receiving Assistance: An Earthly Angel<u>Receiving Assistance: An Earthly Angel<o:p></o:p></u><br />
<br />
My last blog post was about requesting guidance. This one is
about receiving assistance. Remember how I wrote in that last post about the scary
4 ½ month period I went through in-between jobs? Well…I haven’t told you about
this one particular earthly angel who came to me when I badly needed one. <br />
<br />
Early in the summer of 2010 I had needed to call companies
like Portland General Electric to let them know my payment would be late. PGE
was very accommodating as I had a 20 year history of never having a late
payment, much less a missed one. Yet that was not a fun call to make, trust me.
And I had to make four of them. Perhaps some of you have been there. I never
had before. <br />
<br />
Each person on the other end of the phone was respectful,
kind and professional. This was a first for me, but it certainly wasn’t for
them with the high unemployment rate in Oregon at the time. I was certainly not
alone in my predicament. <br />
<br />
The lowest point in all of this, and it pains me to remember
it, came the Saturday morning of my moving sale. <br />
<br />
When I moved to the Portland area from Salem in September of
2007, I had a knowing the next time I moved – it would be with a lot less
“stuff.” I’d been carrying around furniture and other belongings from when I
was married for over 12 years, things I needed to release. <br />
<br />
That knowing didn’t make it any easier that Saturday at 8:00
am. I’m not going to share what I wrote in my journal that morning other than
the last line, which was “I ask for my heart to be healed and for peace to come
in.” I’ve never felt more low. All of my stuff was out there for strangers to
look at and see if they wanted to give me a dollar for it. I was relying on the
sale to pay the first month’s rent in my temporary residence. Talk about being
in a precarious situation!<br />
<br />
The weird thing is, within about an hour, this woman showed
up. I don’t even remember her name. I gave her my card, asked her to keep in
touch, and never heard back from her. She was probably somebody’s grandmother.
I will guess early to mid 60’s, somewhat heavy-set, shorter, wavy graying hair.
Warm eyes and a kind smile. Once she showed up (she ultimately stayed with me
for about four hours, and also came back later in the afternoon to purchase an
expensive bracelet), I suddenly started having fun. It was like being in retail
again, and this woman was shepherding people around my place. When someone
walked in, she would say things like, “Make sure and see the lovely jewelry in
the back room! There are all kinds of wonderful home décor items and canning
goods in the side room!” Etc. She became my co-pilot, my sales clerk. My angel
of an unremembered name. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I had almost $260 in cash by the end of the first day, and
the rest of the rent money was there by the end of the following day. I donated
nearly everything that didn’t sell to the Union Gospel Mission. This was an
incredibly freeing feeling – knowing I had the means to donate, when I had felt
so low and powerless just the morning before. And what I took with me was just
what I needed. </div>
<br />
I asked for a sign before I resigned from a horrible job and
ran into the man who would become my next manager a half a block later. On the
prize-winning lowest day of my life, I asked for my heart to be healed and for
peace to come in…and this earthly angel in a grandma’s body walked into my
moving sale and completely reframed my experience. <br />
<br />
I couldn’t make up stuff this good if I wrote fiction! <br />
<br />
Assistance and guidance are available to us at all times, if
only we ask and pay attention. And I know from my own experience angels come in
all shapes, sizes and forms. <br />
<br />
Don’t hesitate to reach out. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
Authentically Yours, <br />
<br />
Laura<br />
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-55940187797486279872014-11-02T19:03:00.000-08:002014-11-02T19:03:50.607-08:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Requesting Guidance<u>Requesting Guidance<o:p></o:p></u><br />
<br />
My last post was about listening
to the IVIN (Inner Voice/Intuitive Nature), and I gave a specific example, one
involving dear friends, from my own life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><br />
<br />
Here’s another personal example illustrating
how it’s wise to not only listen to the IVIN, but to ask for guidance. <br />
<br />
In early 2010, I was working at a
claims job I had grown to hate, while going through voice teacher
apprenticeship training with the Transformational Voice Institute, which I
loved. I was using my PTO time to attend the weekly apprenticeship meeting on
Friday afternoons, and was in the studio two other evenings a week after work –
for my personal voice lesson and to co-teach or assist with a voice class. The
job I had at the time couldn’t be accomplished in 40 or 50 hours a week, much
less 36. There were times I worked from my home computer at midnight, trying to
catch up. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Push came to shove, and I needed to make a choice. My work
product was suffering to the point where my PTO would be revoked and I couldn’t
attend the TVI meetings anymore. I asked myself, “Why would I give up something
I love to save a job I hate?” I knew I would regret that decision for the rest
of my life. </div>
<br />
But the idea of quitting my job without having another
income source filled me with fear. Terror. How could I possibly be so
financially irresponsible? I had obligations and commitments; I couldn’t just
quit!<br />
<br />
When it became very clear that choice was upon me, I took a
deep breath and went for a Godwalk, my usual walking route around the office. I
prayed. I asked for guidance as to what I should do now, what I should apply
for, what my next steps were. While waiting at a stoplight, I literally said (I
don’t recall if aloud or silently in my head), “If I’m going to quit my job, in
this economy, without having another one, I want a sign.” <br />
<br />
The light turned green, I crossed the street, and halfway
down the block I saw Paul, whom I worked with in the 1990’s at the same
quasi-public insurance company I mentioned in my last post. He runs, I walk, and
our paths would occasionally cross. But for the first time, that day, he stopped
running and asked me where I worked. I said I was seriously considering
resigning, and he suggested I send my resume as Matrix had some new business
coming on board which would mean new hires. I had to memorize his email address
in my head as neither of us had business cards, anything to write with, or
phones on us. <br />
<br />
If that’s not an immediate answer to a prayer, I don’t know
what is. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
So, I put in my notice – a long term notice – with that
company, and kept up with my voice training. </div>
<br />
I was unemployed for four and a half months—applying and
interviewing with other companies and signing up for temp work all the while—before
the job with Matrix materialized. I went through some scary times, times when I
wasn’t even sure how I would put gas in my car. But somehow money always mysteriously
showed up when I needed it, even a room to rent for 60 days; then when the job
did materialize, I was hired at a substantially higher annual income than I was
making at that shitty job I left. <br />
<br />
That was a happy day. <br />
<br />
And during that uncertain period, I learned how to trust. How
to believe if I only listen to what is true in my heart, and take a step…even
if seemingly off a cliff…I will be provided for. <br />
<br />
And now, over four years later... This job has been great
(if certainly challenging and frustrating at times – that’s the nature of a
claims job) and Paul one of the best managers I have ever had. I’ve also known
for over a year it’s time to make a change. I have workshops to facilitate (I’ve
already written and taken a “test drive” of one full two day Authentic
Expression workshop), classes to create, at least two more books to write,
acting to do, and authentic performance to teach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My first voice student in about three years
recently signed up for her first lesson. I can’t do all of this and continue to
work a full time job at the same time. <br />
<br />
Writing my resignation letter (at home) wasn’t easy. In
fact, I’m surprised how difficult it was, considering how ready I have been to
leave, and for how long. Tears trickled down my face while I was typing it and
I kept having to stop to blow my nose. It took me two and a half hours to work
up the courage (at the office) to send Paul a simple e-mail…”Do you have time
to chat for a few minutes at some point today?” I’ve given ample flexibility
for my notice period as it would be nice to see a new examiner hired and
trained before I leave. So at this point I don’t know exactly when my last day
will be. <br />
<br />
I do know it’s time to move on and more fully embrace my
heart callings. This time I’m more financially prepared, and it is not such a
dramatic need for change…yet I’m still stepping out into the unknown, ready to
take another risk. Nothing great comes without risk and challenge. There are
times we simply must leave the security of the safety net to embrace our full
potential. <br />
<br />
In fact, I would say we must continuously do so. <br />
<br />
I will see you there…where the sea-watery essence of our
colliding dreams meets the open waves and sandy ground of the sun-warmed beach.
<br />
<br />
Authentically Yours, <br />
<br />
Laura<br />
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-8515207035384139342014-10-26T19:21:00.002-07:002014-10-26T19:54:13.162-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. The Inner Voice/Intuitive Nature at Work<u>The Inner Voice/Intuitive
Nature at Work<o:p></o:p></u><br />
<br />
Anyone who knows my writing and
facilitation work knows I often use the term IVIN (Inner Voice/Intuitive
Nature) in describing the importance of intuition for authentic guidance and
direction. <br />
<br />
It occurs to me I’ve never before
written about one specific example of my own IVIN at work, in a rather bizarre
and unexpected manner. And this prompting wasn’t even for me personally; it was
about my friends Stella and Rob. <br />
<br />
I worked with both Stella and Rob
at a quasi-public insurance company in the 1990’s. I knew both of them, but
they didn’t know each other except in passing. At the same company, I was
assigned to Marcia as her claims mentor, and we became friends and made music
together. <br />
<br />
Years later, when none of us were
working for that company, I met Marcia for coffee. She was now employed with
the State, and so was Rob. Shortly before my coffee date with Marcia, I had
reached out to Rob for feedback on my burgeoning website or a flyer - something
like that - after re-connecting with him in an acting class. Stella was working
for a different company as a claims professional, and we often walked together
or batted a tennis ball around. <br />
<br />
Marcia and I met at a café right
there in the State office building, had a wonderful conversation, and – as we
were walking out – Rob walked in. We exchanged a hug and a few pleasantries.
Marcia remembered Rob from our quasi-public insurance company days. <br />
<br />
Marcia and I left the café and
headed into the hall. And the strangest thing happened. I “heard” these words
in my head: “Rob is for Stella.” <br />
<br />
Not, Rob and Stella should hang
out. Or Stella might like Rob. Or any other linguistic combination you might
hit on while you’re getting the sense you should hook one person up with
another. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nope. It was “Rob is for
Stella.” <br />
<br />
Thankfully, I’ve learned to
listen to these inner promptings no matter how bizarrely they come worded, or
if in wordless feelings, so I turned to Marcia and asked, “Do you remember
Stella?” She did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked, “Can you see
her with Rob?” She absolutely could. <br />
<br />
Rob sent me his feedback that
evening in an email, and when I thanked him for his input, I asked if he
remembered Stella. He did and had always thought she seemed interesting and
sexy, but he had just become un-entangled from a complicated relationship and
had absolutely no interest in dating. He was single, and that was the end of
that story. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
So I certainly did not expect to
hear from Rob again the following evening, with a message that I would not
BELIEVE what had happened in the past 24 hours. </div>
<br />
After getting my email mentioning
Stella the preceding evening, Rob had a breakfast appointment with an
investigator who used to work at the same company we all met at. The
investigator asked if he remembered Stella, saying she was single now. <br />
<br />
After the breakfast appointment,
Rob had a scheduled haircut. His stylist wondered if he might want to meet
another client of hers (you know where this is going, right?) named…Stella. <br />
<br />
Talk about getting hit on the
head with a virtual 2 x 4. Three times within a 24 hour period!<br />
<br />
I called Stella for permission to
share her contact information and sent them both an email with contact
information, making it clear that was the end of my part! <br />
<br />
Stella later told me when she
opened the door for their first date and saw Rob standing there on the
landing…that was it. They both knew. They have been happily married now for
over eight years, and came to our house-warming party after George and I rented
a home together. <br />
<br />
I share this story because: 1)
It’s just such a cool story. 2) I’m so happy my two friends found lasting love
together, and that I was one of THREE people who set them up – in one day!!! 3)
It’s a reminder that your IVIN isn’t just for you…it will help all those in
your circle, and even people you don’t know yet. <br />
<br />
So listen already, right? <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Authentically Yours, </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Laura</div>
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-78689947899294726652014-10-12T18:33:00.002-07:002014-10-12T18:33:42.801-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Stormtroopers in the Office
<u>Stormtroopers in the Office <o:p></o:p></u><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
This last week at my day job (as
a Sr. Claims Examiner with a third party administrator—TPA—handling workers’
compensation claims for self-insured employers) I ran across the name of an
attorney firm I hadn’t seen in a while. This firm shall remain nameless, but I
used to deal with them quite a bit when I worked at my first insurance employer
back in the 1990’s, and – in fact – my ex-husband knew some of the partners
personally as he sold them their office equipment. The firm specializes in
cases like personal injury and, of course, workers’ compensation. </div>
<br />
I was curious as I hadn’t seen
the firm name in several years, so I checked out their website. There I
found…and I quote verbatim…<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
*<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Insurance companies are multi-billion dollar Deathstars with buildings
full of lawyers and experts, all bearing down on you with bad intentions.</i> </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
*<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Beware the Nice Insurance Person</i> (This was the title of a blog
post). </div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
*<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Your initial contact with insurance claims representatives may frequently
be pleasant. Their goal is to make you comfortable and gain your trust.
However, when dealing with your own insurance company or the insurance company
that caused the accident, this friendly attitude will inevitably change.</i> <br />
<br />
*<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Remember that insurance claims people are evaluated, receive pay
increases, and receive promotions based upon the amounts that they do not pay.
It is in their interest to not pay you everything you are entitled to receive.</i>
<br />
<br />
Uh, wow.<br />
<br />
When I mentioned this to my
fiancé after getting home from work, he said that smacked of “ambulance chaser”
to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which may actually be a nicer
term than “Deathstar”; I haven’t decided yet. <br />
<br />
I’ve never worked in auto or
personal injury claims, so I can’t speak to that. But I can say it is my job to
ENSURE injured workers receive the benefits they are entitled to under the law,
and if I didn’t make that happen I wouldn’t have a job for very long. And I
really do try to be nice to everyone…workers, employers, medical
providers…attorneys, legal assistants…wookiees…<br />
<br />
Fortunately, I am a big Star Wars
(original trilogy) fan and…the older I get, the more I find humor in things. So
I found the Deathstar analogy quite amusing. <br />
<br />
A play I worked on in my last
acting class, STEEL MAGNOLIAS, was beautifully translated to the big screen by
the playwright, Robert Harling. You’ve probably seen it. And it may be time to
see it again. George ordered the DVD and we watched this exquisite film again
after acting class was over for the term. Every time I see it (the play or the
movie), I laugh and laugh and cry and cry. It’s SO good. <br />
<br />
There is a scene in the movie
(that isn’t in the play – there are no male characters in the play) the night
before M’Lynn and Shelby are headed to the hospital for the kidney transplant.
(I can’t believe anyone reading this doesn’t know the storyline, but just in
case – M’Lynn, the mother, donates a kidney to her daughter, Shelby, who is
severely diabetic and having a baby did a number on her kidneys.) The family is
playing cards and one of Shelby’s brothers says, “Give me…all of your internal
organs!” Everyone laughs hysterically (except for the father, who is clearly
worried sick about the health and well being of his wife and daughter). And
then there’s a reference to “A Tale of Two Kidneys,” which illicits the
laughter all over again. <br />
<br />
In no way do I mean to compare
needing an organ transplant to having the industry you work in likened to
arguably the most destructive space station ever created in the history of
science fiction…I’m just saying that sometimes humor in the best place to go in
a tense or uncomfortable situation. And sometimes you just kinda can’t help it.
<br />
<br />
So…I said loudly enough that
anybody in the accompanying cubicles could hear…”Did you all know that
insurance companies are multi-billion dollar Deathstars with evil intentions?” <br />
<br />
A colleague chirped back, “Does
that make us all stormtroopers?” <br />
<br />
This is how our cubicles looked
when I left the office on Friday. <br />
<br />
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<br />
May The Force (of humor) Be With
You. <br />
<br />
Authentically Yours, <br />
<br />
Laura<br />
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-81628677484155856482014-10-05T19:23:00.000-07:002014-10-05T19:23:51.805-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway: Part 2<u>Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway:
Part 2<o:p></o:p></u><br />
<br />
If you’ve been tempted to completely
give up on your dream…remember fears, doubts, lack of self-confidence…all these
pieces of internal resistance are completely and absolutely normal. We’ve all
experienced the same thoughts and emotions. <br />
<br />
So, how do we move forward in
spite of the fears, doubts and other “alligators” snapping at our heads, as my
acting teacher Jo liked to say? <br />
<br />
I have learned from acting
classes and being on stage, embodying a character who isn’t you, from a script,
takes a good deal of courage. I’m not talking about stage fright, but about
allowing yourself to become emotionally vulnerable. As I mentioned in a
previous post, if the actor doesn’t feel anything, the audience won’t either.
That’s what I mean by becoming vulnerable. <br />
<br />
Fear of becoming emotionally
vulnerable on stage is no different than the fear of realizing your dreams. A
few common worries are:<br />
<br />
*They’re not going to like me<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
*I’m going to mess up</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
*I don’t have the skills or
ability to do this</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
*Why am I even doing this? Who do
I think I am?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
*I’m going to fail</div>
<br />
I am here to tell you, with everything
I have learned from my acting classes and experiences on stage – this kind of
thinking is all about “me, me, me.” When you are focused on your insecurities
and fears, you can’t possibly be focused on being of service and living in your
Divine Direction at the same time. Many wise teachers have said over the ages
fear and love cannot exist simultaneously. <br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fear knocked at the door. Faith answered. No one was there.</i>
–Herbert V. Prochnow<br />
<br />
You have something remarkable to
share with the world that noone else has, just like your unique fingerprints or
the patterns of the irises in your eyes. When you are getting up on stage or
pursuing your dreams while moving through the fear, you are sharing the gift of
your unique self with other people. You are living in your Divine Direction.<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">You may be good, but what are you good for? You’ve got to be good for
something. You’ve got to be about some project, some task that requires you to
be humble and obedient to the universal principles of service</i>. –Stephen R.
Covey<br />
<br />
Authentically Yours, <br />
<br />
<br />
Laura<br />
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-33063642614107551982014-09-21T19:15:00.000-07:002014-10-05T19:26:27.110-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway: Part 1<u>Feel the Fear and Do It
Anyway: Part 1<o:p></o:p></u><br />
<br />
Did you know it took Thomas
Edison over 10,000 tries before he created the incandescent lamp? I love
Edison’s story, a man who never gave up. <br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I have not failed. I have successfully discovered over 1200 ideas that
do not work.<o:p></o:p></i><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>–Thomas Edison</div>
<br />
If you feel like you’re the only
person who doesn’t have a clue how to realize your dreams, if you suffer from
self-doubt, want to give up, feel like a failure…trust me—you’re not alone. <br />
<br />
Barbara Stanny interviewed
hundreds of women in writing her books <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Secrets
of Six Figure Women</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Overcoming
Underearning</i> and found a consistent theme for high earners, ranging in
income from $100,000 to over seven million dollars annually. Every single one
of them experienced fear and self-doubt. <br />
<br />
The moral of the story? Feel the
fear and do it anyway. <br />
<br />
Authentically Yours, <br />
<br />
LauraWishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-91684785811269854122014-09-14T19:57:00.004-07:002014-09-14T19:57:56.248-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. The Craft of Acting<u>The Craft of Acting<o:p></o:p></u><br />
<br />
I was first on stage when I was
in fifth grade. I played a “very lively orphan” named Harriet in our elementary
school operetta <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sunny of Sunnyside</i> in
Clark, South Dakota. If I remember correctly, I had one line. Possibly two. I
do remember I wore a blue jumper, and underneath a polyester white and blue
shirt with a collar. I guess that was my first costume. I would later – at age
40 – come on stage in a purple cat suit with gold buckles and transparent
sleeves, a curly red wig, and chunky gold high-heeled sandals to play a Texan
ex-Yam Queen. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
I sang and played instruments
(piano, clarinet, bells in marching band) all through school and was in more
plays, musicals and singing groups than I can list here without boring you to
the point of drizzling drool. Which about sums up the level of my acting
ability at that time. <br />
<br />
After one show in college, I
didn’t get onstage again until I was living in Salem, Oregon and newly married.
As an adult, I have studied with two wonderful teachers (three if you count private
coaching for a monologue), most recently completing Nancy McDonald’s (<a href="http://www.jugglingfeathers.com/"><span style="color: blue;">www.jugglingfeathers.com</span></a>) wonderful Professional
Actor’s Class at Lakewood Theatre in Lake Oswego, Oregon. <br />
<br />
I honestly don’t remember what
drove me to Jo Dodge’s acting class at the Pentacle Theatre; I think we
received Chemeketa Community College’s class schedule in the mail, I read
through it, and thought an acting class looked interesting. And it was
affordable. <br />
<br />
I felt completely at home in that
first class, much like I did in my first voice class with Linda Brice (but
that’s another story for another time.) Ultimately, I took something like 12
terms of acting classes from Jo…mainly because it was like cheap therapy and I
enjoyed it so much, difficult and challenging though it was…and somewhere along
the way I learned how to act. <br />
Let me make a distinct
distinction. By “how to act” I don’t mean “this is how you should act!” a term
many of us heard way too often growing up. I mean I learned how to become
emotionally open and vulnerable in front of a whole bunch of people I don’t
know. <br />
<br />
Even if you have no desire to act
or be on stage, I’ll bet you have certain movies, plays or performances you
enjoy watching, possibly over and over again. I certainly do. Those favorites
touch you emotionally…through laughter, tears, a facepalm moment of OMG—we all
do this stupid shit, feeling at one with the music, completely identifying with
a character or scenario, feeling like someone punched you in the gut because
it’s so real…because the people who were “performing” felt emotions you
identify with. I believe I can say unequivocally if the actor doesn’t feel
something, the audience won’t either. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
If you think this is easy (as in,
I could make 10 or 20 million dollars a movie, too – if I looked like Charlize
Theron or James Franco)…think again! Try it! Go to an acting class or workshop,
find a script at the library, and be presented with the task of slipping into
another character and feeling what that person feels with all their history,
their relationships, their hopes, fears and dreams. </div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
Consider, for example, becoming a
plumber who made a good living until his wife of 45 years died of cancer and he
was left with an empty bed and a mountain of bills. What about a pianist who
lived with fear of rejection and desire for perfection all her life until she
had a wrist injury which kept her away from her instrument? Perhaps an 11 year
old heterosexual boy who watched his older sister coming out as a lesbian, and
how his parents reacted? The crazy aunt whose mission in life seemed to be to
make everybody around her laugh? <br />
<br />
I find the process humbling,
creative, expansive, healing and uplifting. And…the skills can be translated to
“real life.” <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
First of all, many of us worry
too much about things that will never even happen or plan for things we really
can’t control. We’d be better off getting into our hearts and bodies—experiencing
what we’re feeling before responding, than spending so much time in our heads trying
to figure out what to do, how to react, or mentally creating worrisome
scenarios that don’t exist. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
Here are the five “ingredients” –
the primary tools in an actor’s toolkit – as taught to me by Jo Dodge. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
-Who am I?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
-Where am I?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
-What do I want (and why do I
want it?)</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
-What is the relationship?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
-The conflict?</div>
<br />
The WHO is pretty obvious. You’re
that plumber, the pianist, the boy, the crazy aunt, with all of the rich
history of that character. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
*The more you can identify with
the inner workings and motivations of a character, the better actor you will
be. The more you can do the same in interacting with another person in your
life – ie, walk a mile in their moccasins – the more effective you will be in
communication. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
The WHERE is important because
you are going to behave much differently in a crowded restaurant than you are
in your bedroom by yourself, on a plane going down with an engine on fire than
on the swing on your sister’s front porch. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
*If you always behave exactly the
same way whether in a restaurant, your bedroom, a crashing plane, or your
sister’s porch…well…there is reason for concern. <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
What do I WANT (and why do I want
it?) can be more challenging. This is the motivating force that drives what you
say and do, in character, on stage. Jo always said you need a strong want; if
it’s not strong enough, find another right away. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it can’t be a “don’t want.” (I don’t want
to go to work today. I don’t want you to get your driver’s license yet.) And
for purposes of improv, on stage, it should be what do you want in the next
five minutes, not a month or a year from now. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
*If you don’t want to go to work
today, what do you want to do today? Seriously? In an ideal version of the
highest and grandest vision of yourself, how would you spend today? And the
next day, and the next? And why?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
RELATIONSHIP. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A man
walks onstage. He picks up an envelope on the table, opens it, and pulls out a
piece of paper with a lot of numbers in a column and a total below a bold line.
Also on the table is a framed photograph of a lovely, smiling woman who appears
to be in her late 60’s. The man sits down at the table and puts down the paper,
upside down, with shaking hands. He picks up the framed photo, looks at it, and
begins to cry</i>. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
We have a relationship here with
noone else on stage but the man, and not a word spoken. You can see this is the
plumber mentioned above. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
*It is easy for any of us to get
so caught up in what we want that we forget what is important to the other
person in the relationship, be it our partner, parent, child, sibling,
co-worker or client. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
CONFLICT. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
There is no interesting book,
play or movie without conflict. Being born means we will experience conflict,
which probably started—if not in the womb—when our parents had differing ideas
on how to approach our crying in the middle of the might when our diapers were
wet. Fred wants to go to the 3D horror movie at the new cinemaplex while his
girlfriend Paula wants to stay home, make beer cheese soup and watch GHOST on
DVD. Again. Your aunt wants to plant marigolds; your uncle is all for ghost
peppers. You want to take a weekend for gallery hopping; your partner wants to
plan a trip for nearby B & B’s that boast haunting (while I’m on the ghost
kick.) </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
*Yep, it’s inevitable. Conflict.
How do you deal with it? Do you listen and feel before responding (rather than
reacting?) Do you know what you want? Do you know what the other party wants?
It sure helps if you both do, and you can communicate clearly without belittling
or badgering each other.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Cheers to knowing who you are,
where you are, what you want, how to develop the relationship despite conflict,
and the same of the people with whom you choose to interact! And please enjoy
the next movie or play you go to – applaud the actors madly and passionately. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Authentically Yours, </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Laura</div>
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-14436850457500302252014-09-07T18:30:00.000-07:002014-09-07T18:30:15.091-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Follow Your Own Dream<u>Follow Your Own Dream<o:p></o:p></u><br />
<br />
THE LAKE HOUSE (Warner Brothers,
2006) is one of my all time favorite movies, and very possibly my favorite
romantic movie. At least I can’t think of any I like better. In it, there is a
scene in which Kate (Sandra Bullock’s character) shares with Alex (Keanu
Reeves’ character) that her father – who whisked her away from a would-be singing
career with a musician boyfriend when she was just 16 – had a dream of her
becoming a doctor, and eventually her father’s dreams became her own. <br />
<br />
If you ask me, a parent dreaming
of their child becoming a medical practitioner is probably preferable to
persuading him or her towards…say…involvement in organized crime or a terrorist
group. And I certainly admire anyone who has the wherewithal to make it through
medical school. All the same, I would rather see every parent encouraging their
children to explore the most authentic dreams in the deepest recesses of the
child’s heart and soul. <br />
<br />
I read two things today (I am
writing this September 3, 2014) by two different writers who approach this
topic in radically different ways. To me, they are both well-written excerpts
which speak to the same overriding philosophy. I want to share them both with
you. <br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Unwatched Space<o:p></o:p></i><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> I tried so hard to please that I never
realized no one is watching. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I imagined, like everyone else at school,
that my parents were sitting just out of view like those quiet doctors behind
clean mirrors, watching and reprimanding my every move. As I reached adulthood,
the habit continued. I walked around constantly troubled by what others must be
thinking of what I was or was not doing. In this, we are burdened with the
seeds of self-conscious. From this, we trouble our spontaneity and the
possibility of joy by watching ourselves too closely, nervously unsure if this
or that is a mistake. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It is from the burden of others watching and
judging that the need to achieve gets exaggerated into the want for fame. I
remember at different times fantasizing the future gathering like an audience,
ready to marvel at how much I had done with so little. It didn’t even matter
for what this attention might come. Just let some form of watchfulness be
approving, and I would know relief.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It wasn’t till I woke bleeding after
surgery, with all those mothlike angels breathing against me, that I realized
that the audience was gone. I cried way inside, not because I had just had a
rib removed and not because I was in the midst of battling cancer. I cried
because I had not only been physically opened, but also opened beneath my sense
of being watched. Somehow the unwatched space was given air. Though I could
explain it to no one, my sobs were sobs of relief, the water of a de-shelled
spirit soaking ground. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Years have passed, and I wait long hours in
the sun to see the birch fall of its own weight into the lake, and it seems to
punctuate God’s mime. Nothing said about it. Now the audience of watchers is
gone and I can feel life happen in its quiet, vibrant way without anything
interfering. Now, sometimes at night, when the dog is asleep and the owl is beginning
to stare into what no one ever sees, I stand on the deck and feel the honey of
night spill off the stars, feel it coat the earth, the trees, the minds of
children half asleep, feel the stillness evaporate all notions of fame into the
unwatched space that waits for light. In this undistorted silence, the presence
of God is a kiss. It is here in this unwatched space that peace begins. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">– Mark Nepo, THE BOOK OF AWAKENING. Conari
Imprint, Red wheel/Weiser, Boston, MA 2000<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Barbara Stanny’s Weekly Words of Wealth<o:p></o:p></i><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Is Becoming Your True Self a Scary Thought?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ultimately, <u>Financial Success</u> is an <u>Act
of Individuation</u>.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><o:p> </o:p></i><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Individuation is a psychological task we
should’ve undertaken as adolescents, but which few of us (especially women)
have actually completed. <o:p></o:p></i><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Individuation means distinguishing what’s
true for us from what’s been artificially imposed—by our family or society as a
whole—then letting go of what no longer serves us. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What we think we are supposed to be—all the
shoulds, oughts, musts—too often gets in the way of what we actually could be.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I invite you to ponder this: <u>What values,
goals, beliefs have I absorbed from my family that no longer suit me</u>? Then
consider how these may be standing in the way of your utmost success.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Warmly, Barbara. <a href="http://www.barbarastanny.com/"><span style="color: blue;">www.barbarastanny.com</span></a><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
Let go of the perceived watchers.
Embrace your individuation. Follow your own dream. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Authentically Yours, </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Laura</div>
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-9935531889969560632014-08-31T22:32:00.000-07:002014-09-01T18:57:10.968-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. When Others Doubt<u>When Others Doubt<o:p></o:p></u><br />
<br />
Lately I have had several conversations
with different people for whom what they have been doing (specifically in their
job/profession) simply is not working anymore. These people have all known for
some time that change was inevitable; it’s just a matter of time. Two of these people,
both colleagues I met in a work environment whom I also consider friends, have
opted to leave their current situations without what many might term a “safety
net.” Both have long term partners who are wonderfully supportive, yet they are
in different stages in their careers and work life. One plans to temp while she
identifies a job she really wants in the right environment with the right
people, and the other will take her nursing and business skills in a different
direction that is more heart fulfilling. <br />
<br />
I have taken leaps of faith like
this myself, at least three times, throughout my career so far. I don’t
consider myself a particularly courageous person. Some of the motorcycle rides
my brother has gone on would probably make me throw up. There is no way I am
jumping out of an airplane with a parachute, as my fiancé has done. <br />
<br />
Yet I do know it takes courage to
leave your comfort zone. The thing is…for most people the comfort zone has
become so uncomfortable it feels like change is the only choice if you are to
get out of bed in the morning and not pawn everything you own for a one way ticket
to anywhere but here. <br />
<br />
AND! Then you have to deal with
other people in your life when you tell them, or they eventually learn, about
your decision. If making the decision to take the leap of faith is difficult…say,
like trying to photograph a giraffe in the wild in Africa…trying to explain why
you have done so to people who profess to care about you (and probably really
do)… can be like trying to saddle and ride the long-neck. <br />
<br />
Very often people who come across
as negative simply want what THEY feel is best for you. They don’t want you to
be hurt if you fail. They most likely haven’t read Wayne Dyer’s 10 <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Secrets for Success and Inner Peace</i> and
learned about the myth of failure. As Dyer says, there is no such thing as
failure. Everything we do simply produces a result. <br />
<br />
If you make a chocolate soufflé and
it falls the first time, do you whine and cry about being a failure as a
chocolate soufflé maker? Or do you simply try the recipe again, a different
recipe, or create your own, until you’ve made the soufflé you had envisioned? <br />
<br />
If I had gone by the first batch
of garlic dill pickles I made with my ex-husband when we had a garden and baby
cucumbers, I’d be a lifetime failure as a pickle maker. They were so salty and
soggy, I dumped all six quarts down the garbage disposal…except for the one I’d
brought the neighbors, and they were grateful when I suggested the same to
them! The next batch wasn’t salty enough, yet was crisper. The third batch was
nearly perfect, if a tad heavy on the garlic.<br />
<br />
Each batch was closer to the “dream
pickle”, so to speak. <br />
<br />
The same is true of whatever
change and next move is calling to you. It doesn’t have to be perfect at the
onset. Just take a step. Experience how it tastes, smells, and feels. If it isn’t
quite right…tweak it. And then tweak it again. <br />
<br />
I believe in you. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Authentically Yours, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Laura</div>
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-29284078170336653172014-08-24T19:16:00.001-07:002014-08-24T19:16:51.704-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. The Three Time Rule<u>The Three Time Rule</u><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
One philosophy I live by is what
I sometimes call the Three Time Rule. We receive little nudges, often
unbeknownst to us, meant to bring us another step closer to realizing our
dreams and creative potential. I’m thinking back now to a day in college
towards the end of my senior year. I majored in broadcast journalism my
freshman year at South Dakota State University. One of my classes entailed an
assignment doing radio spots and editing (at that time, literally splicing) the
tape with a partner. My partner’s name was Marilyn. Marilyn and I had the best
time doing that assignment, laughing our way through most of it. As you can
imagine, we had to tape over and over again because of the laughter, so we were
in the studio the entire afternoon. I don’t remember what kind of a grade I got
on that assignment, but I do remember the fun Marilyn and I had together. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p>I switched majors to psychology
and eventually sociology after that term and didn’t see Marilyn again for three
years. Then in the last few days of my senior year, I ran into her three times
in three different locations in one day. We were both astounded. Had I known
then what I know now, I would have invited Marilyn for a cup of coffee—or more
likely, at the time, a beer. This Three Time Rule philosophy has proven itself
to me over and over. If I see or read about something more than just a couple
of times, I look into it and virtually always find some gem of inspiration I
needed to move another degree or two closer to my dreams. Sometimes three
different people will recommend the same book to me within a short period of
time, and reading that book gives me an entirely new perspective, an
alternative route to accomplishing my dreams I hadn’t seen before. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? Some things
are too strange and strong to be coincidences.</i> –Emery Allen</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Authentically Yours, </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Laura</div>
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-13194624046286971202014-08-10T20:05:00.000-07:002014-08-24T20:22:05.573-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. One Good Thing<u><span style="color: black;">One Good Thing<o:p></o:p></span></u><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">If you’ll excuse my “French,” this week started
off shitty. I felt like crap all day on Sunday and didn’t leave the house once.
I typically don’t watch much TV; (truly, I don’t; just ask my fiancé and
roommate who hates it when I call him “roommate” – he’ll vouch for me.) But I
sat on the sofa with my cat and watched three back to back movies on the
Hallmark Channel that day. I was grateful when my voice teacher suggested
rescheduling our planned afternoon get-together. In fact, I didn’t even shower
until right before I went to bed (at 8:00 pm, no lie) and that was just to
rinse off in cool water because the weather was hot and I was miserable. </span><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">I didn’t feel much better going into the office
the next morning, but not bad enough to stay at home again and take a sick day.
I was crabby. Slightly depressed. And it was a MONDAY by all accounts. I
seriously considered rescheduling my phone consultation with my web diva Monday
evening as well. But I’m eager to get going on my new website, had already
postponed one appointment in the preceding 36 hours, and don’t have a lot of
free time right now. So I decided to forge ahead.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Something happened about a quarter way through our
talk. I started to get excited. I remembered what great collaborators Amy and I
were when she was designing my Wishweavers logo and website something like a
dozen years ago now. I got enthused about moving ahead with the writing and
workshop product offerings I feel drawn to put out into the world in a bigger
way. I started imagining the color scheme, design and what the site might look
like. By the time we hung up the phone after 45 minutes, I was so happy I
cried. Literally.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">And then I thought about something a co-worker
said to me last week. She got married a few months ago after being engaged for
something like eight years. I may have asked her how married life was, or some
such thing. She mentioned how shocked she was by her husband’s regular practice
of coming home from work and laying down to rest. “He does this, for 15 or 20
minutes, every day!” she said. I thought, “How cool. Good for him!” She
continued, “When I get home from work it’s always something with the kids, the
pets, the groceries, laundry, putting dinner on; I never even sit down until
8:30 at night.” <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">My co-worker certainly isn’t the only person in
the world (I’ll go so far as to say amongst mothers in particular) who could
honestly, and perhaps unfortunately, make such a statement.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">How many of us make a practice of doing something
we want to do, something that makes us happy, every single day? Do you? Truly?
I’m paying attention to if I do and so far the answer is no. But I sure feel
better when I do. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I’m not talking about what you do for a living
(even if you really love what you do for a living), watching TV, any household
chores even if you really enjoy a particular chore, or going to the gym. And we
should throw parenting out of the mix, too, no matter how much you love being a
parent and love your children. I’m talking about the kind of good thing that
sings to your “essential self” or “inner nature,” as author and life coach
extraordinaire, Martha Beck, would say. We all have an essential self who knew
this stuff before we were like, say, five. Or started school. Or whenever other
people started telling us all the reasons why we shouldn’t or couldn’t engage
in something that made us happy, or all the things that we should like and do
because that’s the way it’s supposed to be. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">For me, for example, one of those things has
always been hanging with animals. Mom tells me my first word was “kitty.” My
best friend at age nine was my horse. To this day, I see the dog walking before
I see the person at the other end of the leash. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Also, singing and playing piano. And walking
outside in nature. Drawing was one, too. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">In fourth grade (before I had even first been on
stage in fifth grade) I was writing little plays, based on the TV show I DREAM
OF JEANNIE, and performing them with my classmates on the playground during
recess. Noone taught me to do this – I just automatically did it because it was
fun and Julie or Shelly agreed to play/act with me. (There’s that instigator of
mine from the last post.) Is it any wonder that acting and writing both bring
me such joy now – even though I’ve made no money from acting to date – and not
all that much from writing yet either! </span><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">Thank goodness I had the sense (and not the kind
that comes from your head) to start taking acting classes and get back on stage
again in my 30’s. And I did receive, out of the blue, a $2.19 royalty check
from my first book last year. I asked my CPA if it would pop me into a higher
tax bracket. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">For a lot of people, gardening is one good thing.
(Note I haven’t mentioned Martha Stewart. I’m not sure which library would have
enough room for all of her good things.) Not so much for me, especially the
pulling weeds part, but I do love hanging out in gardens and eating fresh
produce from my or anyone else’s garden. Maybe for some people, going to the
gym is. But I doubt it. Dancing, horseback riding, swimming, yoga, golfing, tennis,
etc., is for a lot of people, though. You know the difference because of the
way you feel when you think about, or are engaged in, the activity.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">At the present time, I have two non-negotiables. I
read something inspirational every single morning, first thing. I go to the
bathroom, make a cup of tea, and go back to bed and read before I start my day.
(This year it is Mark Nepo’s THE BOOK OF AWAKENING.) And I Godwalk typically
five days a week. This morning I started making myself happy while I was
shaving my legs as I started writing this blog post in my mind. I took my
Godwalk mid-day. I sang Lorde on the way to the office. And I took a break at
the office mid-afternoon to start working on this post. When I got home, I
poured a lovely glass of pinot noir and am flushing out the writing now before
heading into the kitchen to make tacos, which are fun to cook and I immensely
enjoy eating. I will hula hoop later too (which I am darned proud of myself for
learning to do at the age of 47) because that sounded like more fun than going
to the gym. Which I will likely do tomorrow before…acting class!!!! </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I am challenging myself to do one good thing for
my essential self every day, starting with through the end of this month. But
really forever. I challenge you to try it for a week! Let me know what you
discover!!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;">Contrary to
what you may have been taught, there is nothing frivolous or superficial about
what you want. It isn’t a luxury that can wait until you’ve taken care of all
the “serious” business of life. It’s a necessity. What you want is what you
need.”</span></i><span style="color: black;"> –Barbara Sher, WISHCRAFT<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;">Laura’s
Home Movie Popcorn Recipe<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Put 3 tablespoons cooking oil into a heavy four
quart pan and add 1/3 to 1/2 cup popping corn kernels. Cover, slightly ajar,
and heat on medium, shaking occasionally, until popping slows. (Yes, microwave
popcorn works in a pinch, but this is better.) Put popped corn in a large bowl
and add two tablespoons melted butter, sprinkle liberally with grated parmesan
cheese (try real fresh cheese rather than from the green can – I buy the
already grated kind and stick it in the freezer) and add some ground sea salt.
Stir well. Don’t make this when you’re on a diet, but it’s really good on a
shitty Sunday when you’re watching back to back movies on the Hallmark Channel.
<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;">Life is not
intended to be simply a round of work, no matter how interesting and important
that work may be. A moment’s pause to watch the glory of a sunrise or a sunset
is soul satisfying, while a bird’s song will set the steps to music all day long</span></i><span style="color: black;">. –Laura Ingalls Wilder<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Authentically Yours, <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Laura<o:p></o:p></span>Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-18624214621807276012014-08-04T19:49:00.000-07:002014-08-04T19:49:17.747-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. I Give You My Word<u><span style="color: black;">I Give You My Word<o:p></o:p></span></u><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Was there any one particular word you were labeled
with as a child? Was that word true about you? <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I remember a handful of words placed on me. Motor-mouth,
for example, was one I heard on the school bus. Apparently I liked to talk a
lot on the bus. (No wonder I’m a writer and actor now.) But that’s not “the
word”…I’ll get to that in a bit. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Recently I facilitated a “practice run” weekend workshop.
As providence would have it, the participants able to make it that Saturday and
Sunday received some pointed insights from the process, while giving me hugely valuable
feedback. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">One of the most poignant exercises was sharing our
“word.” This stemmed from something I read in Julia Cameron’s THE VEIN OF GOLD
(G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1996) wherein she shared a story about composer Michael
Hoppe (<a href="http://www.michaelhoppe.com/"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.michaelhoppe.com/</span></a>).
I have read Cameron’s books before – but, interestingly – didn’t pull this one
(a gift) out again until after I had met Mr. Hoppe personally. I sang one of
his songs at the Transformational Voice Institute graduation ceremony, after I
had completed the apprentice voice teacher training. I find Michael Hoppe to be
gifted, gentle, insightful, and basically a wonderful man. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Paraphrasing Cameron, Michael Hoppe was denigrated
a “dreamer” as a child and not encouraged to take his music and composition
dreams seriously. As a result, he became an executive in the record industry,
representing other artists’ works. One “happy” day (Hoppe himself was mortified
at the time) his own work accidentally came up at the end of the reel of music he
had presented sharing the works of other composers. But that accidentally-at-the-end-of-the-tape-composer
was precisely what that particular film producer was looking for. And the
“dreamer” began to embrace the dream. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">For one of my workshop participants, the word was
“sensitive”, feeling everything, it’s like I need to walk on egg-shells around
you. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">MY word was “instigator.” Always the one starting
things. I knew how to get things going. Yet I often suppressed that gift because
I had a feeling it was a “bad” thing. Thankfully, I came to embrace my
instigator as an innovator and connector later in life. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I encourage you to identify your word, whatever it
might have been. And then turn it around…what are the innate strengths in that
word? In you?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;">I want every
little girl who’s told she’s bossy, to be told instead she has leadership
skills.</span></i><span style="color: black;"> –Sheryl Sandberg, CEO of Facebook<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Authentically Yours, <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Laura<o:p></o:p></span><br />
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-60987982528651563802014-07-20T20:12:00.000-07:002014-07-20T20:12:09.811-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Authentic Expression in the Home<u><span style="color: black;">Authentic Expression in the Home<o:p></o:p></span></u><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I knew from a young age I needed my surroundings
to reflect how I felt inside. I was fortunate to have a bedroom of my own
growing up, and I always decorated it in ways that made me feel good.
(Never-mind that for much of my adolescence that meant many posters and
magazine pages of a sometimes shirtless Erik Estrada—whom I did meet in my
30’s—my first really big dream come true!!) <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Authentic expression at home is so crucial to me I
don’t think about it; I just do it. Whenever I move (which seems to be fairly
often, something I didn’t expect when I was that adolescent in my personally
decorated bedroom kissing posters of Erik Estrada or pretending my pillow was
his lips) the first two things I do are start to unpack and decorate one space,
and then find a walking route. This happened again when I rented a house with
my fiancé early March, and this time it wasn’t just my space but his, the cats,
and ours. Yikey Crikey.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I have certain ideas of a color scheme, pieces of
furniture, etc., but I also just go by how I feel and what calls to me. I avoid
clutter and buying or hanging onto items other than those which are useful or I
find beautiful, “things” that lift my spirit. Often with little expense. Here
are a few examples. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A3xr0O1p5FU/U8X0765ha8I/AAAAAAAAAhQ/stOd9QxPXYc/s1600/Rug2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A3xr0O1p5FU/U8X0765ha8I/AAAAAAAAAhQ/stOd9QxPXYc/s1600/Rug2.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jFEpcjjOJos/U8X08YZIqmI/AAAAAAAAAhY/iE2MXbaJhJQ/s1600/Rug1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jFEpcjjOJos/U8X08YZIqmI/AAAAAAAAAhY/iE2MXbaJhJQ/s1600/Rug1.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">I wanted red and gold in the living room, after
years of green (my favorite color) and releasing the furniture I brought with
me from my marriage after my divorce. Note the round wool rug in this photo. I
found it at Cost Plus/World Market for three hundred bucks. (Actually $299.95,
and I sometimes wonder if the world of retail will EVER get over this deceptive
and pointless routine.) I waited until it was on sale, and I had a coupon, and
brought that rug home for $63 about four months after I first laid eyes on it.
It’s still one of my favorite purchases, over three years later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qmLxi0I3AD8/U8X0l401WCI/AAAAAAAAAgo/L0VU-8mUhIs/s1600/B41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qmLxi0I3AD8/U8X0l401WCI/AAAAAAAAAgo/L0VU-8mUhIs/s1600/B41.jpg" height="320" width="181" /></a></div>
<span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">I found a long, low dresser, nightstand, and
bed-head-and-foot-boards by the side of the road, while I was walking, for $20.
When I called, I found the $20 included delivery (because I asked)! Turned out
the quality wood furniture (finished in an unfortunate shade of almost green
ivory-ish) had been in the family for three generations. After our move, we
repainted the dresser and nightstand deep brown, via spray cans from Home
Depot, for approximately $30 and not a whole lot of our time. The
waiting-for-it-to-dry time was more than the painting time! (George removed the
hardware beforehand and put it back on when everything was dry.) </span><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">George wanted to take photos of me through these
arched openings at the El Morro Fort in San Juan when we spent a week in Puerto
Rico late February. A girl and her singing brother (whom I found myself singing
with) were running through while George was trying to take the photos. However
this happened, each photo ended up with a slightly different shade, which can
only be explained by clouds shifting outside or mystical forces. Or perhaps a
camera glitch! But they were all taken so close together it’s odd. You can see
the girl in two of the photos, running in and running out. I am in love with
her. And her brother I sang with who is not in the photos. When I decided to
have these photos enlarged and framed, I ran across a 40% frame sale at Aaron
Brothers. </span><br />
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<span style="color: black;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">Five tapas I bought in Tahiti in 1998 are still
with me. I don’t remember how much they cost, but they didn’t sell in my last
moving sale, and I still have them and still love them. But this one was way
too small over the dresser for my aesthetic sense. I considered a number of
things, including taking my own photos, looked at the Saturday Market, etc.
Then I remembered this painting by my Aunt Barbara that my mother had hanging
in the hallway. I mentioned it to George and he suggested we take a photo of it
while we were in South Dakota visiting my family over the week of July Fourth,
and then make the print into a canvas transfer. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I thought that was a great idea, and mentioned it
to Mom when George and I were there. Wouldn’t you know it? Mom had taken down
all of the artwork in the hallway. She wasn’t using the painting anymore; it
was being stored in the basement. She said I could have it. My heart leapt – I
had wanted that painting for years. Cost of shipping: less than $16. This is a
priceless piece of artwork in our bedroom, created by a woman I love dearly who
is now on the other side of the veil. She must have laughed from “above”,
knowing how many stops we made at UPS stores and USPS outlets the day after the
Fourth of July, until we finally found one open in a grocery store in Sioux
Falls. </span><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">Cheers to Aunt Barb, a woman whose home (from her
in-house hair salon, to her paintings, to the kitchen where she made
screwdrivers to drink and cooked delicious foods to eat) reflected her
awesomeness. I hope someone remembers me one day as fondly as I remember Aunt
Barb. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Authentically Yours, <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Laura<o:p></o:p></span><br />
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-20971562992328004672014-07-13T22:21:00.001-07:002014-07-13T22:21:20.591-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. The Spice of Life<u>The Spice of Life</u><br />
<br />
I am now back to writing after my trip to South Dakota. And this isn't what I was planning to write.This is a letter to one of my favorite authors and an invitation to spice up your life! <br />
<br />
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<em><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Dear Kate, </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></em></div>
<em>
</em><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><em><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now that I’m back and somewhat
recovered (bah-ha) from my trip to visit family in South Dakota…here is a
cross-country package from Portland, Oregon to Portland, Maine! Ta-Da…the
seasoning packets with recipes from Cuisine Mentor I mentioned to you on
Facebook. I decided we should drive across the bridge to Sellwood and find some
nice salt and pepper for you at Savory Spice Shop as well. I would have gotten
some of the olive oils, vinegars and/or hot sauces, but I didn’t want to mess
with packing and shipping anything liquid. <o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
<em>
</em><br />
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<em><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Let me know how this stuff works for
you, if you will, as I’m planning to do much of my holiday shopping this year
through these two companies, both based here in the Portland area. I never
really need an excuse to go to Sellwood anyway. It’s a cool area of town, and
when I decide to go hiking at Tryon Park (which we didn’t today) that is right
on the way. Sellwood is filled with older, every-one-looks-different (rather
than the whole neighborhood being erected a few years ago by the same developer)
houses, antique shops, one store dedicated to soaps, another to creative
collage, a couple cool art galleries, people leave water bowls out for dogs on
the sidewalk…I’m sure you get the idea. </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></em></div>
<em>
</em><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><em><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Today George (my fiancé) and I drove
over there after an amazing service at the COEXIST Celebration and had lunch at
the Grand Central Bakery, one of my favorite places in the Universe to get a
mocha – with REAL whipped cream – in a cup the size of a soup bowl, on a saucer.
You have to ask for the whipped cream light if you don’t want it on your face
when you take a sip, and if you stir it in with a spoon it flows all over the
sides and onto the saucer. Which is perhaps why they use them. You could use a
straw. Anyhoo, I digress. <o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
<em>
</em><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><em><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I mentioned briefly on FB that I
have a personal story in regards to Cuisine Mentor. It all started at the
Portland Saturday Market. Well, no, it actually all started at Lake Grove
Chiropractic Clinic in May of 2010 when my back – especially the left trapezius
– was bugging me so badly I absolutely had to book a massage or I may have
climbed a wall. Well, no, rather I would not have been able to climb anything because
of the physical discomfort I was experiencing. And I remembered this
chiropractic clinic across the street from my apartment offered massage
therapy, naturopathic medicine, acupuncture, etc., I called them, and was told a
therapist named George had an appointment available that evening right after my
work time ended.<o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
<em>
</em><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><em><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I booked that appointment and kept
going back every time I needed a massage because George helped me – his touch,
skill and energy were therapeutic. Before your mind even goes there (it already
has, right?) I will tell you George had never dated a client and had a personal
philosophy that he never would. And I never thought of him in a romantic or
sexual manner either, anymore than I would my dentist or my gynecologist. I was
usually the last client of the day because I would go after work and the gym…so
everyone would be gone in the clinic but us, and George would close up after I
left. We got to talking, with him behind the reception desk and me on the other
side. Sometimes for up to a half hour or more at a time. I developed a sort of
friendship with this really nice and cute guy who helped me feel better,
physically. We both liked music and became friends on FB because of a music
link I wanted to get from him. <o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
<em>
</em><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><em><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And then one day around the time of
the US open tennis tournament, during or after a massage, it came up that we
both had played tennis in the past and would like to again – but just for fun
and exercise, without keeping score or serving or being competitive. George
found his tennis racquet, I replaced mine that had been stolen from my car
several years prior, and got a pair of shoes and a can of balls. <o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><em><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There is much more to this story
surrounding a minor uterine surgery I had already scheduled, that George took
me to the hospital for at 4:00 in the morning – not insisting, rather making it
very clear he was available and wanted to – when I was planning to take a cab.
But the deal is we went to the Saturday Market after batting the tennis ball
around twice. That’s when I figured out he was asking me on a date, and we
weren’t just tennis buddies after all. <o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><em><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We found the Cuisine Mentor booth
and I tasted several of the wonderful samples. I bought four seasoning packets for
twenty bucks and rifled through them as we walked, wondering which one I would
make first. I decided on the Moroccan chicken, and said so outloud. George
asked, “Is that when you are inviting me over for dinner?” I said yes and how
about next Friday and he said sure. <o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
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</em><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><em><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I admit I was a little skeptical. Green
olives and dates along with everything else? I chopped and diced and prepared the
night before, so I could just make myself pretty after work on Friday and stick
it in the oven before George came over. The Moroccan chicken was sublime, and
the rice and salad as well. We became boyfriend/girlfriend that night – 10 days
after our first walk to the tennis court. We’re engaged now, since 10/13/13.
When people ask if we’ve set a date for marriage, the response is “One of these
days.” I like that. We like that. <o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
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</em><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><em><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Much like these wonderful
seasonings. <o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
<em>
</em><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><em><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ah, ah, ah….the spice of life!!
Enjoy, Kate. <o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
<br />
Authentically Yours, <br />
<br />
<br />
Laura<br />
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-17303994431290485912014-06-28T18:13:00.000-07:002014-06-28T18:13:17.561-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. The Loincloth<u><span style="color: black;">The Loincloth<o:p></o:p></span></u><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I head out on vacation (to see my family in South
Dakota) on Sunday and won’t be writing for a couple of weeks. After I get back,
I will be interviewing Barry Dennis (<a href="http://www.barryadennis.com/"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.barryadennis.com/</span></a>),
a truly inspiring speaker and remarkable writer and musician. Barry, one of the
most multi-faceted and talented people I know, founded the COEXIST Celebration
in Portland, Oregon, which I now consider my spiritual home. I’m thrilled to be
a member of the COEXIST visionary group, which I will write more about after I
interview Barry. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">For now, here is something of particular interest
for any of you who – like me – often look at the massive consumerism in our
society, shake your head, and go WTF…? (Or something along those lines,
especially when you find yourself actively engaged in it!) This is an excerpt
from Barry’s Book, THE CHOTCHKY CHALLENGE (Hay House, April 2012), a book I
highly recommend. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Loincloth<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In the 13<sup>th</sup> century, a
great master lived in a cave near a small village in Nepal at the base of the
Himalayas. Today that village is known as Katmandu. At this time, however,
there were fewer than 500 villagers. The master had renounced everything of the
world. He had need of nothing other than his robe and sandals. He took only one
new student every ten years. When the time came for a new student, several
young men from the village made their cases but only one showed true promise.
His name was Fu.<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After a year of tutelage, it was
time for the student to denounce all things of the world. He was to learn to
trust the universe to provide, as did his master teacher, who proudly presented
his student with his own humble, flowing garb. And so it began. The student
found a cave nearby to be his home. He was to do nothing but meditate until the
master returned from a spiritual trek for an undisclosed amount of time.<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Fu was quite content. The universe
did provide, and he was happy. He lived in harmony with nature and was greatly
loved by the villagers. One day some friends came for a visit, and there was
Fu, sitting blissfully on a rock in his cave. <o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Fu, you would be much more
comfortable with a loincloth,” one of the villagers remarked. <o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Fu replied, “I have renounced all
things of the world. I am content and happy with nothing but that which my
master has given me to wear.”<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“As you wish,” his friend said.
After they left, however, Fu began to consider a loincloth. Maybe it <u>would</u>
be more comfortable. But then he remembered his master teacher’s words and was
conflicted. It is said that he meditated on this idea for many months: to get a
loincloth or not to get a loincloth.<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Finally one day he thought, <u>What
could it hurt</u>? So he went to the village and, because he was so loved by
the villagers, the cloth maker gave him a loincloth.<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He used his loincloth religiously to
sit upon as he meditated. He <u>did</u> have to go to the river every so often
to wash it, which cut into his meditating time, but it seemed to be a fair
exchange. <o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then one day he came to get his
loincloth off the branch of the tree where he hung it to dry, only to find
several holes. It appeared as though rats had found the loincloth quite appetizing.
He considered letting it go. However, he had gotten used to it. It was cushy.
So, he went to the village to get a new loincloth, but this time the cloth
maker wanted him to pay. He didn’t have any money, so the cloth maker accepted
an IOU.<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Fu also got a cat, with a similar
arrangement, to chase away the rats. This worked beautifully. The cat chased
the rats so the monk could have his cloth. However, the cat became scrawny. He
needed more nourishment than the occasional caught rat, so Fu got a cow for
milk for the cat who protected the loincloth so Fu could sit on it and
meditate. Soon, however the cow became scrawny. There wasn’t enough grass
around the cave for the cow to graze upon. So Fu began to work the land to feed
the cow that fed the cat that kept the loincloth from getting eaten by the rats
so Fu could meditate.<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Working the land, of course, cut
greatly into his meditation time. He was making a little profit on the extra
grass, so he hired his friends who had recommended the loincloth to work the
land so he could get back to meditating. Soon there was so much grass he had to
hire more people from the village. It became quite an enterprise. The villagers
worked very hard and became strong. They made up songs and even danced as they
worked the field. However, over time, they grew unhappy. They didn’t like the
working conditions and formed a village union. They made many demands. Fu spent
most of his time now dealing with the unhappy villagers. He built a kind-of
office and what today would be called a “break room” for the villagers. He also
hired a manager.<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Fu was stressed, but had very little
time to meditate for release. At least when he did, he had a loincloth to sit
on. The cave no longer seemed appropriate, so he built a home next to the
office and the break room. He didn’t sleep very well, though, because he was
concerned about his loincloth. Each day he milked the cow that ate the grass
that fed the cat that kept the rats from chewing on it.<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The next season there was a great
drought. They could not grow the grass that fed the cow that fed the cat that
kept the rats from getting into his house and chewing up his loincloth. The
business went under, and the villagers were very upset with Fu. Under so much
stress he had forgotten to pay back the IOU for the cat and now he barely had
enough to reimburse the cloth maker. When he tried to return the cat, it ran
away while chasing the rats who had just absconded with his loincloth. He ended
up paying back the cat lady with his sandals and the robe off his back. He then
became known as the naked beggar. Cold, dirty, and hungry all the time. A few
years later, the master returned. He barely recognized his student, there in
the street, nude.<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He said to his apprentice, “My son,
what happened?”<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With great remorse, the student,
unable to hold eye contact, finally confessed, “Master, I got a loin-cloth.”<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The master shook his head in grave
disappointment and said, “You Fu!”<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">--Barry Dennis (Mythical, from THE CHOTCHKY
CHALLENGE)<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Authentically Yours, <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Laura<o:p></o:p></span><br />
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-57649786419213924412014-06-22T19:38:00.002-07:002014-06-22T19:38:56.301-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Some Authentically Good Recipes<u>Some Authentically Good Recipes<o:p></o:p></u><br />
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I recently received an invitation for an e-mail recipe
exchange. I care about the person who sent it and wanted to respond, while
knowing it would be challenging to find 20 people willing to take the time to
share a recipe. I thought about just ignoring it, but to ignore anything from
someone I love feels less than authentic. </div>
<br />
It had been a challenging day at the office when the
invitation came in. I stayed late without having moved my undone tasks to the
next calendar day. I wanted to go to the gym before my 5:45 chiropractic
appointment. I reallllly needed an adjustment, and I don't mean just in my
spine. Doc Harrington did a great job getting my spine adjusted in more places
than ever needed before. It took longer to adjust my mental state. <br />
<br />
Writing down these recipes and passing them along to my
friend, while declining to participate in the recipe exchange, helped. I hope
you enjoy them. <br />
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<u>Robert Duvall's Mother's Crab Cakes</u> (from Oprah)<br />
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-1 lb crab meat</div>
<br />
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-2 heaping TBSP mayo</div>
<br />
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-2 eggs, lightly beaten</div>
<br />
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-1/2 tsp Worcestershire sauce <em>(my "secret
ingredient" for everything from meat marinade for grilling to sloppy joes
to baked beans)</em></div>
<br />
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-1/2 tsp cayenne pepper</div>
<br />
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-1/4 tsp salt</div>
<br />
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-1/2 small onion, grated <em>(don't try and dice or food
process it - grate it)</em></div>
<br />
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-1/2 TBSP mustard powder</div>
<br />
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-18 Ritz crackers, crumbled</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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***See possible additional ingredients below.</div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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Combine all ingredients except the crackers. Add cracker
crumbs as close to sautéing as possible so they don't get too moist.</div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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Form into desired size patties. Sauté in butter <em>(oil
isn't going to work)</em> on medium to high heat <em>(turning it down low isn't
going to work)</em> 10 minutes per side. Crab cakes should be crispy outside
and moist and juicy inside. </div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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Easy tarter sauce: mayo, grated onion, lemon juice, and
maybe some sweet pickle relish.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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<em>***I have to add these suggested ingredients after
having my friend Chris Kyle's crab cakes, while I haven't made crab cakes
myself since: Red bell pepper, fresh basil, fresh lemon juice, hot sauce. The
basil especially added a fresh flavor I just loved. I'm guessing cilantro might
work, too. Chris serves his crab cakes with a fresh rosemary aioli sauce</em>.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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<u>Kale Smoothie<o:p></o:p></u></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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<em>I recently purchased a Vitamix and am now making my own
smoothies. Here's one of my favorites so far. I love the fresh, green taste and
all the nutrients I am getting in a glass. I have added banana,
strawberries...really, I think you could add just about anything in the fruit
or veggie arena and it would work fine. (Maybe not tomatoes, but I might try
that too!!)<o:p></o:p></em></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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-1/2 apple</div>
<br />
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-2 C kale leaves</div>
<br />
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-1 C spinach</div>
<br />
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-Fat free vanilla yogurt to put in the bottom</div>
<br />
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-1 TBSP ground flax seeds or flax seed oil</div>
<br />
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-1 C ice on top</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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Blend until smooth. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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<u>Fresh Corn Succotash</u> (no lima beans!)</div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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<em>I Googled a recipe for corn succotash after falling in
love with the dish at The Cheesecake Factory. (It comes with their spicy
chicken tenders called "littles", along with amazing garlic mashed
potatoes.)<o:p></o:p></em></div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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-Kernels cut from four ears of corn</div>
<br />
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-1 red bell pepper, cut into fine half inch strips</div>
<br />
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-1 yellow bell pepper, cut into fine half inch strips</div>
<br />
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-1/2 onion, diced</div>
<br />
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-2 cloves garlic, finely chopped</div>
<br />
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-1 TBSP fresh thyme leaves</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
-1 TBSP fresh bay leaves, chopped</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
-About 1/8 C olive oil</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
-About 1 1/2 TBSP butter</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
-Salt & pepper</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
In a large skillet, heat oil and butter over medium high
heat. Add garlic and onion, cook until translucent, about four minutes. Add the
corn and bell peppers, season with salt and pepper, and cook, stirring
occasionally, until the vegetables are just tender, about 10 minutes. Add the
herbs a minute or two before the veggies are done. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<u>Potatoes Deluxe<o:p></o:p></u></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<em>Now for something truly fattening, not healthy, and
really good and always a hit with dinner guests</em>...</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
-2 lb. bag frozen hash brown potatoes, thawed</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
-1 C diced onion</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
-16 oz. sour cream</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
-1 can cream soup (chicken or celery for vegetarian)</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
-1/2 C butter, melted</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
-8 oz. shredded cheese</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
-Salt & pepper or other seasonings to taste</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
-Crushed potato chips (1 C) for topping</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
In large bowl combine all ingredients except for topping.
Spread into 9x13 cake size pan, top with crushed potatoes chips. Bake at 350
for about 45 minutes. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<u>And two last tips</u>: for either chicken salad or tuna
salad (the kind made with mayo to spread on sandwiches or tortillas)...add some
diced jalapenos (I'm talking pickled from a jar, not fresh in this case),
shredded cheese, and in the case of tuna salad, two boiled eggs, diced with one
of those wonderful egg slicers that cost like three ninety nine at your local
store. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Enjoy cooking, putting love into the food, and eating with
loving appreciation!! </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Authentically Yours, </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Laura<span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-69099402392804601852014-06-15T19:53:00.000-07:002014-06-15T19:53:48.253-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Encrypted Patterns<u><span style="color: black;">Encrypted Patterns<o:p></o:p></span></u><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">In Don Miguel Ruiz’ important book THE FOUR
AGREEMENTS, the third agreement is “Don’t Make Assumptions.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">This is not necessarily easy. In fact, I suspect
most of us make so many assumptions, so frequently, about so many things –
without even being aware of it – if we can get to the point where we even
question whether or not we’re making an assumption, that is gigantuous progress!
<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I’ll choose one particular scenario as an example.
Some people seem prone – if not to flat out road rage – to becoming easily
irritated or angry with other drivers on the road. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">“Learn how to drive!” Honk, honk. “He cut me
off!!” Honk, honk, hoooonnnnk. “You a**-hole!!!” Flip the bird. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Sound familiar?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">It seems to me one of the easiest places to make
assumptions is from behind the wheel. But what if the guy who cut you off in
traffic just left the airport en-route to the hospital, where his wife is in
premature labor with their first child? <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Another is in hearing and reading about
celebrities. “Yeah, I’d look like that too if I made a million dollars a movie,
and had a personal trainer, and a plastic surgeon, and a nanny. (And you know
that picture was photoshopped anyhow.)” <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Sound familiar?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I’ll readily admit I think there is way too much
emphasis on celebrity and physical appearance in our culture. And, of course,
anyone is going to look better after two hours in the chair with the makeup
artist and hair stylist. That said, noone can know the schedule of and demands
on another person’s time without being in that person’s life. Even the best
personal trainer can’t exercise for you. Personally, I love to exercise and
don’t feel good when I don’t. But working out two hours a day every day…? No
thanks. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Yet perhaps even more destructive than the
assumptions we make about others are those we make about ourselves. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I am not a person prone to road rage. My
tendencies lean in the opposite direction. Someone honks and my first thought
is “What did I do wrong?”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I remember once when I was in the Transformational
Voice Training Institute Apprenticeship program, in between jobs, and short on
money. My voice teacher left a voice mail asking me to call back as soon as I
could as there was something she wanted to discuss. In the moments leading up
to my return call, I felt concerned, even panicky, wondering if I had made some
colossal mistake, offended someone, or if I was behind in my studies, etc. It
turned out Linda was losing a roommate and was calling to offer me a place to
live!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Whatever experiences and socialization led to our
individual encrypted patterns (or ingrained tendencies, or old shit, or
whatever term you want to use), being aware of them is helpful. Knowing they
exist, and to look for them, can help avert assumptions and open up authentic
potential for a new way of looking at things, a new choice. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Authentically Yours, <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Laura<o:p></o:p></span><br />
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-33043333341625859152014-06-08T18:38:00.000-07:002014-06-08T18:38:25.645-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. The Stupidest Thing I Ever Said<u><span style="color: black;">The Stupidest Thing I Ever Said: The Duck Story<o:p></o:p></span></u><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">When I told my fiancé I was writing a blog post
entitled The Stupidest Thing I Ever Said, he kindly reminded me about something
else I recently said that could equally be categorized as stupid. That would be
the question: “Why is the water so wet?” <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I don’t think that really counts as stupid,
though. See, we were at the park on a sunny day, about to toss a Frisbee; I
took my shoes off, and when I removed my socks they were wet. It hadn’t rained
in days and the grass looked dry. What I MEANT to say was “Why is the ground so
wet?” <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">So, that was really just one word coming out when
I meant another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">The duck story is another matter entirely. My
friend Natalie kindly reminded me of this today after I had made a trip to the
duck pond, as I call it. (A little man-made lake—with a fountain in the
middle—where Mallards and Canada Geese flourish and have babies, near an office
building across the street from where I work.) It has been a couple of years
since this happened and I had completely forgotten about it. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Natalie is a walking buddy and there was one
particular street where this duck couple hung out. The people in this one
particular house fed them cracked corn or something…Natalie and I saw the
couple (the ducks, not the people) several times in front of the same house. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Then one day we were walking on a different
street, several blocks away, when I spotted the same Mallards. (And here is
where I write like a novelist—and not a very good one): <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Look!”
I said, pointing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It’s the same ducks
from that other house, way over there!” <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sure
enough; it is!” said Natalie, smiling.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Gosh,”
I pondered, watching the ducks waddling along, “I wonder how long it took them
to walk all the way over here.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Natalie
quizzically raised her eyebrows as she looked at me and responded, “Perhaps
they…flew?”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">My reaction would have made a good movie moment.
Boy, did I feel STUPID.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">God’s Honest Truth. I temporarily forgot, even
while looking directly at the wings on their bodies as they did the walking
waddle, that ducks can fly. All I could imagine, in that particular moment, was
them waddling on the sidewalks and streets all the way from Lehman Avenue to
The Street A Block Away From The Elementary School. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">That’s funny. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">What’s not so funny (see bubble bursted) is how we
limit our sense of our own potential in the same way. <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">In E-SQUARED, Pam Grout writes that the brain
receives 400 billion bits of information each second. It would take nearly
600,000 books just to print 400 billion zeros, to give you an idea of how much
information that is. Geez Louise, as my friend Nancy used to say. So what does
our brain do? It narrows down and screens to something like 2000 bits of
information per second. (Gosh, that doesn’t sound like so much, huh? Yikes!) So
what we actually choose to take in is only one-half of one-millionth of a
percent of what’s out there, as Grout says. And then she goes on to talk a lot
about neuro-pathways in the brain and how we are programmed to think a certain
way and only see certain things…and rather than get into that any further I
will simply recommend her book. It’s great. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Can I just say, well for God’s sake, no wonder I
forgot for a few minutes that ducks fly! <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">But I’m making a commitment to remember that I
can. Maybe not with wings, but with my spirit, my imagination, my heart,
thoughts, words and actions. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">You do the same, okay? Because I’d hate to see you
waddling all the way from Lehman Avenue to The Street A Block Away From The
Elementary School, forgetting that you can fly. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Authentically Yours, <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Laura<o:p></o:p></span><br />
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-9239609032666595762014-06-01T19:31:00.002-07:002014-06-01T19:31:29.013-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Stop Fighting Yourself<u><span style="color: black;">Stop Fighting Yourself<o:p></o:p></span></u><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;">Learn to
listen to the messages your body gives you. Rest when your body feels tired.
Eat when your stomach tells you it’s empty. Drink when your throat feels dry.
Cry when your eyes sting with tears. Laugh when you’re bursting with happiness.
Dance when your feet feel the urge to move.</span></i><span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">–from MOMENTS FOR MYSELF, a calendar by Blessings Unlimited<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Stop fighting yourself. You know what you need.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Authentically Yours, <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Laura<o:p></o:p></span><br />
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-12618743469068150092014-05-25T17:46:00.003-07:002014-05-25T17:46:45.055-07:00Express in the World What is Held in Your Heart: Part Four<u><span style="color: black;">Express in the World What is Held in Your Heart:
Part Four<o:p></o:p></span></u><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">In FINDING YOUR OWN TRUE NORTH, Martha Beck
examines how when the essential self and social self are not communicating and
working in conjunction with each other (which is likely true of virtually all
human beings to a certain extent) inner and outer conflict result. This is from
chapter 1: The Disconnected Self. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;">Melvin
worked as a middle manager at IBM and a miserable middle manager Melvin made.
If clinical depression had a phone voice, it would sound just like Melvin’s did
the morning he called me to see if I could take him on as a client. He’d been
feeling sort of flat and listless for a while, he said – no big deal, just the
past couple of decades. <o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">After checking into Melvin’s current life, and if
he might be a good potential client (because she doesn’t want to waste their
money and time if not) Beck got to some of the questions which really interest
her. These questions are like: When you were a kid, did you have an imaginary friend?
Is there anything you do regularly in which you find time passing without your
noticing? Tell me everything you can remember about the best meal you ever had
in your life. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Melvin didn’t realize he would need to answer such
questions, didn’t feel prepared, and decided to hang up the phone. Beck never
heard from him again. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">He couldn’t answer the questions because he didn’t
know. His essential self, the one who knew what he loved and wanted to do by
the time he was in about second grade, was so disconnected from his social self
– the one who presents in the world – that the two weren’t talking to each
other or on the same page about how to move forward in life. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I don’t know about you, but I really like the idea
of my essential and social selves speaking to one another regularly. Let’s get
the game on!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Authentically Yours, <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Laura<o:p></o:p></span><br />
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-30391839403566858602014-05-18T18:01:00.001-07:002014-05-18T18:01:12.881-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Express in the World What is Held in Your Heart: Part Three
<u><span style="color: black;">Express in the World What is Held in Your Heart:
Part Three<o:p></o:p></span></u><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">In THE BOOK OF AWAKENING (I am reading one
reflection per day this entire year), Mark Nepo speaks regularly of the need to
be honest about one’s own feelings (whether it be sad, angry, hurt, light
hearted, filled with love) to ourselves and to others. To voice,
compassionately, what one is truly feeling inside. To express the truth of who
we internally are, instead of creating a facade to present to the world. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">My writing is not as poetic as Nepo’s. He words
things like this: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;">As the sun
cannot withhold its light, we cannot what feels real. As the Earth keeps going
by turning itself toward the light day after day, we have no choice, despite
all forms of etiquette and training, but to keep turning toward what we feel is
real. Otherwise, we become cold little planets spinning in the dark. </span></i><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Don’t withhold your light. Share it. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Authentically Yours, <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Laura<o:p></o:p></span><br />
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-57998793138152092492014-05-11T19:30:00.000-07:002014-05-11T19:30:08.306-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Express in the World What is Held in Your Heart: Part Two<u><span style="color: black;">Express in the World What is Held in Your Heart:
Part Two<o:p></o:p></span></u><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">In THE WISDOM OF MENOPAUSE, Christiane Northrup
describes not only the physical, but also mental, emotional and spiritual
changes a woman goes through in mid-life during perimenopause and menopause.
This must be the Menopause Bible of the world – it is almost exhaustingly
detailed in health related areas (hormones, bones, thyroid function, etc.) of
the physical body. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Where the theme aligns with the other books is how
in mid-life (which I can vouch for from my own experience) women are simply not
willing to put up with crap anymore. Divorces tend to happen during this phase,
after years and years of marriage. I personally know two women who have
divorced their respective spouses after having been together for around two
decades. Both are just a few years younger than I am. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">After years of putting their own desires on hold
to raise families, provide emotional or other types of support for spouses,
keep the household running smoothly, etc., there comes a time. A time when hormones
are changing, it’s not about nesting anymore, and a woman simply must start
saying “no” to the demands of others and “yes” to those from deep within herself
to take care of her own needs. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Early on in the book, Northrup describes a
gentleman who was utterly shocked when his wife uncharacteristically stood up
and threw a plate of roast leg of lamb (or some such thing) right out the
window at the dinner table. He blamed her “craziness” on hormones and the
emotional charge of her change of life. More likely accurate is his wife –
after years of simmering frustration and anger – simply reached a boiling point
wherein enough was enough and she simply wasn’t going to keep playing her prescribed
role anymore. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">If the woman doesn’t change, she will wind up
miserable and ill, and noone around her will be happy either. So either the
marriage stays the same with everyone miserable until death does someone part,
it changes, or it ends. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">This transition is an opportunity to move into a
new future, with clear intentions and nurturing of self. I say CHEERS to that!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Authentically Yours,<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Laura<o:p></o:p></span><br />
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-71858770414396765052014-05-04T20:00:00.000-07:002014-05-04T20:00:29.984-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Express in the World What is Held in Your Heart: Part One
<u><span style="color: black;">Express in the World What is Held in Your Heart:
Part One<o:p></o:p></span></u><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I used to be a finish-one-book-before-starting-another
kind of gal. I’m not anymore. Often I like to have one fiction and at least one
non-fiction book (more and more on my Nook) going at the same time. Now I
prefer to spread my attention around a bit, yet focus on each directly while I
am there. In fact, I am reading more books right now than I remember ever
reading all at once before. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">And I am struck by how the same theme keeps surfacing
in different formats, by different authors. It goes something like this: Let
your outer and inner lives be congruent. Express in the world what is held with
love in your heart. You knew what you wanted when you were 7 years old; don’t
let the world stop you from recovering and doing it now. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">With all this richness, a four part series has
presented itself! Here is part one. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">In THE VEIN OF GOLD, Julia Cameron describes how
she nabbed the title and concept from interviewing the now deceased brilliant
film director Martin Ritt. Here is my paraphrase of what Cameron wrote: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It was Ritt who directed NORMA RAE, the film
that changed our impression of Sally Field from Gidget to an actress of depth
and stature. Ritt had a theory about actors and brilliance. He called it the
vein of gold. He said that all actors have a certain territory, a certain
range, they were born to play, and that is their vein of gold. If you cast an
actor within that range they will always give you a brilliant performance. As a
writer-director myself, years afterwards, I found my mind circling back to Ritt
and his theory. I saw evidence of its validity everywhere, and not just among
actors. </i><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I have noticed the same thing, within myself and in
observing others. Some things we feel like we “have” to do. Some tickle our
interest and we think we wanna try. Others we feel we “must”, or we aren’t
truly living. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black;">Should is
how <u>others</u> want us to show up in the world—how we’re<u> supposed</u> to
think, what we <u>ought</u> to say, what we <u>should</u> or <u>shouldn’t</u>
do… Must is different—there aren’t options and we don’t have a choice. Must is
who we are, what we believe and what we do when we are alone with our truest,
most authentic self</span></i><span style="color: black;">. –elle luna. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I send cheers and congratulations to all who
choose to mine their inner vein of gold, who decide to live in the must. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Authentically Yours, <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Laura<o:p></o:p></span><br />
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4363636041776543518.post-4317654053381438532014-04-20T19:30:00.000-07:002014-04-20T19:30:41.181-07:00Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. The Best Relationship Ever<u><span style="color: black;">The Best Relationship Ever<o:p></o:p></span></u><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I am simply overcome by feelings of love and
gratitude for my partner and the relationship we have created together. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I wrote this segment weeks ago, and am now posting
it on the day of our housewarming party, Easter Sunday, 2014. George and I
moved into this home together March 8, after signing a year-long lease. Today
we celebrated with beautiful friends, delightful new neighbors, and delicious
food. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">My heart is overflowing. <u><o:p></o:p></u></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">There was a period of time in which I had little interest
in dating and was convinced I would never – ever – live – with – a man – again.
Ever. As long as I lived. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">But then something changed. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Into my life, at age 48, came the best partner I could
hope for and by far the best relationship I have ever had. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">We had both been married before for 12 years and
divorced for several years. When neither of us were looking for a relationship,
but both were open to one if it was a great one and Divinely inspired, the fire
erupted and romance blossomed. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I feel so full of joy, grateful, hot, taken care
of, happy to take care of, in sync, that I wish I could give everyone the magic
bullet. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I’m sure everything George and I have both gone
through in past relationships, and the inner work we have done on ourselves,
brought us both to this point with Divine timing. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Yet all I can come up with for the magic bullet (after
you get past the pheromone part and how you just want to curl up into the
other’s body) is this. Two things. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">1) We speak honestly and compassionately with each
other from our hearts. About virtually everything. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">2) We each care deeply about the other’s feelings.
<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">(And then there’s that little thing about how our
astrology charts synchronize so nicely, but you would want to connect with
David Mohler about that.)<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Cheers to YOUR magic bullet in whatever area of
your life you want it in. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="color: black;"> I wish you all the happiness in your romantic relationship that I have
in mine. It was worth the wait.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Authentically Yours, <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Laura<o:p></o:p></span><br />
Wishweaving Laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01341595148156600795noreply@blogger.com0