Self Care for the Incredibly Lazy

Howdy, peeps!

When last we spoke, I spoke of setting the bar a little higher than shitting on the toilet instead of on the floor. I am happy to report that, since then, I have not shit on the floor. Nope. Not even once.

I really should have been back before now to talk more about this, but… well… I haven’t been. Mostly because I have a mile wide lazy streak running through my soul. I’m trying to work on this, and some days are better than others. Let me fill you in on my bare minimum list of essential to-do items that do help. Maybe some of it will inspire you.

  1. Change your underwear. Even if you don’t shower. Bacteria accumulates in your panties, and a nice fresh pair will help keep the stench down. Also? It just feels nice.
  2. By that same token, put on a fresh pair of pants. Whatever hits your panties will, nine out of ten times, make it to your pants. Or… hell… if you’re in for the day, pants aren’t even required.
  3. Put on some deodorant. I promise you that lack of stench helps.
  4. Brush your teeth. If you can only manage one item on this list, make it this one. Trust and believe you will feel worse when you see the damage caused by not taking care of your chompers.
  5. Brush your hair.
  6. Try to get yourself a little fresh air and sunshine.
  7. Do not, under any circumstances, shit on the floor.

Once these items are accomplished, one of two things will happen. You will either be carried by the momentum they generate and you will engage in other productive activities or, alternatively, you still won’t feel it. In that case, provided you don’t have to go to work, park your ass on the couch and do something to grow your mind. Read a book or watch a documentary.

Hey, regardless of what our friends say, it’s helpful to know about serial killers.

My though process is that learning something new or adding to something you already know is productive.

Also, try to avoid social media. Social media only makes people in a certain frame of mind feel bad about themselves or angry at people they normally enjoy. Why do that to yourself? You deserve better.

Oh, and, hey, remember to congratulate yourself because you did some of the things, and you have the added bonus of not having shit on the floor.

stahp that…

Wow… I haven’t been here in a while. The “write” option looks kind of different. I’m not sure I enjoy it. How am I going to know where/when/how to do stuff? AND WHERE ARE MY OPTIONS TO ADD PICTURES???

Anyhow, I’ve been thinking a lot, here lately, about human nature. I’ve been thinking about this need we all seem to have to placate others, and we seem to want to do so with as little effort expended as possible. Me? I think we should be doing better.

Last weekend, my friend came over, and we drank a lovely magic mushroom tea. After all the intense “visions” phase passed, we sat in my living room, he, in my chair, I, on my couch, and we had the deepest conversations about life and humanity that I have ever had. We talked about personal accountability and how no one ever knows what that means on its most genuine level.

I feel that the act of placation does more harm than good. This need we have to band-aid the thoughts/feelings/experiences of others does nothing to help them serve their greater good. This whole “look at it another way” mentality is a real disservice to our communities as a whole. It really does nothing to contribute to the growth and evolution of the human spirit.

Our roles, as human beings, are to learn how to successfully navigate humanity, and if we’re constantly buying into the notion that we are heroic simply because we managed to shit in the toilet instead of on the floor, how are we growing? There has been indoor plumbing for years, and I think we need to set the bar a little higher.

Absolutely, the topic of mental health comes into play. I don’t like to ignore that fact because I struggle with depression myself, and I can’t even imagine having to deal with something worse than that. Life is a whole lot more complicated than the need for humanity to have a paradigm shift. It absolutely is. That’s why I believe in reincarnation. I absolutely do not believe that there is one soul that is not capable of “getting there,” wherever “there” may be. If you can’t/don’t get it this time around, maybe next time will go better for you.

I don’t say any of this from a throne of ultimate wisdom. I say it as one of you, no, I say it as one of us. I say it as someone who, some days, can barely get out of bed. Some days, I have to remind myself to remember to breathe. Some days, I can take on the world, too, though. Some days, I have the whole goddamn universe in my pocket. It’s important to remember that and not only talk about the things that bring you down.

So think about this for a while and get back to me. I’ll be back to talk more with you.

The Big Dream

So, this is an extension of my last blog that covered work.

Basically, last time, I put the vibe out there that I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the job I have that makes me money. By and large… Yes. That’s a fact.

I do have another job that fulfills me in every way a person could possibly imagine. I wish every day that it could be my paying job.

I am on the board of a non-profit organization called Crossroads Universal. We organize and host two very large community events every year: Cleveland Pagan Pride Days and The Cleveland Witches Ball. There are so many other dreams we have for the organization, but these two events are very solid, though, due to the ‘rona, we had to cancel the Witches Ball and we made CLE PPD a live-stream event.

Every summer, the weekend of PPD, I am with my true tribe, with my people. There is such a spirit of community, togetherness, and pure magic. It makes every ounce of work we put into it so worth it. Just having someone walk up to me and thanking us for all our hard work and sharing about what a wonderful time they’re having… well… it’s a very special time.

Watching children dance along with the drum circles, friends who don’t see one another often hug, laugh, and pose for a selfie together… it’s truly the most wonderful feeling, for me. I know the rest of the board and the planning committee agree with me.

Part of me wonders if I’d still love it the same way if it were my paying job. Part of me says yes because I could move the organization into so many different directions and do so many wonderful things for our community.

No… not part of me. All of me.

Time to figure out making this happen.

Goals Schmoals

“you just need to set goals for yourself…”

I’ve heard this, ad nauseam, since I was a child.

“you’ll feel so much more accomplished…”
“it really boosts your dopamine…”
“imagine how good it will feel to have a goal and to finally achieve it…”

I guess you could say I’ve done this on numerous occasions, and I’m still waiting on this feel-good thing to kick in.

I had a goal to make my living room useable before Thanksgiving, and it’s done.
I lost 100 pounds, give or take a few, on any given day.
Today? Most of my house got cleaned. Well, let’s not exaggerate… let’s keep it real. a lot of my house got cleaned today.

And still… I want to know… When does this amazing feeling of accomplishment kick in? When does the dopamine surge occur? When do I begin to stack my successes so that I can achieve even more?

Goals… I’ve never really been goal oriented, and I don’t know how to fix myself so that I can be. I’m not sure if the lack of this quality makes me deficient or if it makes me … me.

I hate those emails we get from work… “it’s time to set your professional goals for the upcoming year…” Ummm… I don’t know… maybe “not be unemployed?” How’s that for a start? I’m entirely certain that “not killing anyone during my perimenopausal hormonal outrages” is not acceptable, but do they even give a shit that this may be what I actually want? Nooooo…

I guess I can see how maybe it would help in building certain types of skills. I mean, I’m certain that if I had a goal of practicing my yoga every day, I’d be way better at it than I am now.

Alas, I do not.

Maybe I should make it a goal to set a goal.

Truth or Consequences

You have brains in your head and feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.
You’re on your own and you know what you know.
And you are the one who’ll decide where to go,
Dr. Seuss

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.
Ernest Hemingway

Hmmm… I wonder if I’m ready to bleed.

People talk so much about finding or knowing their “truth.” I’m still trying to figure out what that means.

For me, everything is so subjective; everything changes from day to day and sometimes from minute to minute. How can there be a “truth”?

Truth, to me, indicates yes or no/black or white or some other absolute. I have made a practice of trying hard to not engage in absolutes.

Feeling this way makes me feel like part of me is lacking, somehow. Because I haven’t discovered my “truth,” there’s some part of fulfillment/discovery/enlightenment that I’m missing out on.

Yes. A lot of times, I don’t even know who in the hell I actually am. Wanna know the freaky thing? Nine out of ten times, I’m perfectly okay with that. That leaves a lot of doors open for me, and it has given me many opportunities and put me in contact with a lot of great people.

Truth, though? I’ll let you know if I ever find some deep, meaningful truth buried with my soul. It would surprise me, though. I love the shades of grey out there.

Hmmm… maybe my truth is that there is no truth.

Why Are You Like This? Barb here, Dissy and I were discussing what we should write about for our very first Witchy Wednesday and settled on answering the main question everyone gets when talking about non-mainstream religious beliefs. Some people are nicer and more polite about how they ask, some are mind-blowingly nasty, but the […]

Witchy Wednesday: Take 1 — So… Your Friend is an Asshole

A new blog that just started yesterday by some of my favorite people. PLEASE check it out, like it, comment, share it. Help us make more of a mark on the world than some piss on a fire hydrant!!

Moving On

I’ve been really dragging my feet on the remodel work in the house I’m living in now. I ended up there as the result of a breakup at the end of April. I am hard-pressed to admit that, at 49 years old, this is my very first legitimate case of a broken heart. Sure… others have hurt, others have done their damage, but this one? Wow. Truth be told, I have never before left a relationship while I was still in love, and I was in this instance. Very much so.

I am too obstinate to not recover from this, but I am wondering when that thing is going to kick in? You know, that thing that makes you say “fuck this,” and just … I don’t know… get on with it. I know I’ll feel better and will be much happier when my environment is put in order and is as pretty as I can make it. I know all of the good and positive reasons that I should be doing this, but I am hard pressed to take the steps involved in taking action. Honestly? I’m getting on my own goddamn nerves with it. I’m not even in a place, anymore, where I’m hoping for a reconciliation. That ship has sailed. If there’s happiness out there for me, it’s not going to be with this person.

Part of me is wondering if it’s the paint I picked out for my bedroom. I chose the exact same color scheme, as I had recently painted the bedroom where we lived together, and I absolutely love that color. I’m not tired of it yet, and I want to look at it every night before I go to sleep. Then I think, “it can’t be that.” See… I didn’t associate that bedroom with him or with our relationship. I associate that bedroom with me. It was the one place where I put my true essence. Why can’t I do that again here? I can, but I’m just not doing it. Besides, my new-to-me antique furniture is different enough to wipe out any ghosts.

I think I fear life in general now. I think that I feel too damn old to start over. I think it’s time to face and unpack the baggage so that it can finally be put away. Not just the baggage from this most recent upheaval, but a lifetime of accumulated baggage. Time to breathe. Time to get back to me. Time to fucking paint.