After my evening of meeting Brenda, I could feel the rhythm of change inside me begin to beat at a hyper pace. The turbulent air was constantly swirling around me. I would no longer feel like an ordinary boy. It was as if I had seen the light and now my sun rose and set with a new purpose each day. There would never again be a calm moment for me. I began to squeeze out every possible waking moment, and everything I needed to do seemed so urgent. This pattern would emerge early in my life and still is happening at this very minute. It was all I could do to try and get some rest and sleep as I always felt that I would miss something if I slept. I felt I could get much more completed if I stayed up all night. Fatigue and body needs always won out. I would fall, totally exhausted, into heavy sleeps and in my dreams I would still be running like a crazy man.
The change in me was very noticeable to my parents. I planned innumerable tasks each day and found it miserably hard to sit still and even eat breakfast, lunch or dinner. It was an utter annoyance to my parents but I would not allow anything to break my focus and soon found myself spending quite a bit of time totally alone. It served me well to be without interruption. Most people were kept at a distance and were only allowed in my silent world pending my daily frantic schedule. I knew that I had to provide the necessary monetary needs to procure some of my ideals. The small allowance would never suffice for the things that I wanted. I knew I had to derive a plan to deliver the funds that would get me the things that seemed so necessary at the time. In those moments of thoughts it occurred to me very recently that I had asked my secret genie for a wish and as usual the universe delivered what I had asked it for.
It all happened quite by accident and it would become the start of a sustaining life career that took me way ahead of the rest of the kids my age who would have trouble deciding what career path their lives would take. I can't recall ever thinking of college as it seemed that I had discovered the exact path I would excel at.
Not quite ten yet and having had a few opportunities in helping my Mother with her hair I knew that I realized that the many trips to the hair salon with my Mother and the knowledge and skill that I learned from her hairdresser, would soon be put into good use and would become my ticket to monetary paradise. That summer of 1962 would thus begin my foray into a lifelong career that has served me well and provided not only monetary results but also invaluable lessons in people skills.
I would realize just how handy my natural hairdressing talent would be for the many young teenage girls in my neighborhood. My first "client" would be my brothers long time girlfriend , Linda. Since he had to have me tag along, much to his chagrin, I sat watching her one summer day as they talked teenage love mush. I watched her struggle to set her hair and as I sat there being ignored, I suggested that I help her with the set.
My poor brother was embarrassed that I would do such a thing and after a lot of cruel remarks about being a sissy, the guilt surfaced and she said I could give it a try. She said it with an attitude that expected an impending disaster, but a few minutes later her demeanor changed in my favor. With my trusty comb and Dippity Do setting gel, she was overwhelmed to see the end result. I explained in no uncertain terms that it was a no effort process and I could tease it out and finish it. If she liked it she could pay me two dollars and if not it would be free. I told her to come and find me when it was dry as I did not want to stick around while they continued to gush over each other, as I had other things to do. It was a summer date night for my brother and it was necessary to have the style that would turn heads and welcome comments, and I had no worry that I would not succeed.
I had to prepare for the worst outcome and then work backwards to reach the positive conclusion that I had already seen in my mind. If this turned out all wrong I would not be able to live with myself nor with my obnoxious teenage brother who already had it in for me to lose. I had no fear of what the results were to be, it was always the taunts from failure that I hated the most. In my preparation for my finale I located my metal teasing comb that Miss Bea had given me and that I had previously used on Mother's hair, I felt it to be my one saving grace to proper hair heights.
Later on that summer afternoon my skills would be put to the challenge of teenage criticism. She arrived with such uncertainty of the outcome of the hair issue that I had to remind myself over and over that it was her insecurity and not mine. I had asked my Mother to stay for support and if things should go awry, I knew someone was on my side. Out came the rollers and fastidiously I brushed the set out and began to tease her hair as if I had been doing it all my life. With my trusty can of Aqua Net hairspray in the Blue can for hard to hold hair, I swiftly molded that hair into the style of her preference and in less than fifteen minutes I was finished. With the last rattail comb lift and one last hit of spray net I handed her the hand mirror so she could see the results I had finished.
My Mother was completely surprised at the result. There was even a bit of fear about whether she would like the styling or not, she confessed to me later. In that final moment as Linda looked in to the mirror my brother appeared to see what I had done.
Silent panic swept through me as I awaited some sort of judgement. She finally stood up, I froze with fear, and she gave out with a big "I love it and can't believe you did this". My brother once again shrugged it off with embarrassment that his weird little brother, pulled off such a success. She would be my best advertisement that night on their date. It would start a maelstrom of girls at my door to have their hair done regularly and I could feel my bank account grow as I began my descent into my Hair-port. While the beginning of this situation appeared quite bleak,
I never let it sway the outcome that I knew it could be. I was not aware of what I could or could not do but I realized that through any unseen turbulence you might encounter along the way you will always have to descend in order to have a smooth landing. That day I landed on the runway toward my future.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
STAR FLIGHT
We have been following the mystery of the heavens since the beginning of time. The guidance that has been proclaimed from the planetary mysteries have given us insight into the many happenings on our earth that have occurred due to the alignment of planets. A recent conversation from a very dear friend brought up some intense questions that have had significant impacts on my life. We spoke of the current planet alignments and the impacts that have been happening and the Mayan interpretation of the end of the world in 2012. In keeping with the beliefs that soon we may all become extinct, we both agreed that there is more going on here than anyone could possibly understand or comprehend. We both knew that somehow we had been given the ability of clairvoyance and the keen sense to know when something was not right when we sensed uncertainty. It was apparent from both mind angels that the solutions to a lot of our early problems were always present and we just could not see them clearly.
I would welcome knowing that some kind of planetary interference was responsible for some of the choices that I made, that way I had an excuse for it turning out all wrong...... "The heavens made me do it"
It was all sent down from heaven alright, unfortunately I had to make a little hell out of it before I saw the heavenly light. That is not to say that life has been hell, actually quite the contrary, but when things would go a bit awry I tended to lose sight of the alignment and go off on a tangent. I know now that the planetary pull always brought me back into the alignment with myself. The awareness of this fact happens at different times for everyone. I am most fortunate to recognize it now.
My "Star" flight began its boarding call with that little yellow slip of paper that arrived courtesy of the Western Union man. This destination point would open up many doors to the reasons and actions that would be carried with me to this day. The journey has since come full circle and is now completing it's last arc of closure.
In trying to take control of this amazing situation, I began to develop coping skills to mask the anxieties that filled my days till the destination could be reached. The mere fact of meeting the one "Star" that started and ended my day with her music was very compelling. Being someone who knew no rules and charted my own boat, I had no idea how to gain a calm sailing into the conclusion. The huge amount of daydreams and fantasies multiplied daily and I would have twenty one days of unaligned days. From a childhood perspective, suffice it to say.... an eternity. Thus began my foray into trying to take control,the inability to allow control from other than myself, and last but not least, anxiety anorexia. As it seemed to my Mother, she would end up taking a holocaust type child to this concert, because of me being such a foreign entity who could not eat,sleep,or focus. In recollection I can only assume that she was aware of why I was being this way and tried her best to assure me that all would be fine.
When the magic concert day arrived it was one of the most stressful days of my whole nine years on earth. No one had schooled me on this and all I wanted was to be "Hollywood Cool" and not have any fears there to take anything away from me. I needed control but Mother's parental rights won over anything else, besides I really needed her safety net, should I fall.
We arrived early at the concert hall and I first saw the big "STAR SPECTACULAR" bus that held all the performing artists. We were greeted by a stagehand and ushered briskly to the area where we were to be staying. The great thing of where we were sitting is that it was in eyesight of the bus where one by one, the ten artists playing the show stepped off the bus and made their way to where we were sitting. It was a big stage room and it was obviously the sitting room where each performer stayed before their performance. My heart was beating out of control in getting to meet some of the most popular rock-n-roll artists of their time. My Mother was so very gracious and when we were introduced to each performer, I transcended all space and time. One by one the autographs appeared in my autograph book, yet I had still had yet to meet the one "Main Star". For fearing the worst,,,and my anxiety completely out of control we were then summoned to the bus and were told to follow the stagehand. Grasping ever ounce of energy and holding on to the many records that I was carrying we stepped up into the bus as it was time for the meeting that I had planned in my mind for the last twenty one days.
My "STAR" shined brightly that night. She was everything and more. She was as small in height as I was and so very kind and genuine. At that meeting a promise would be made and to this very moment in time, this promise has never been broken. Nothing else existed for me at that moment and it's bright afterglow would not fade away for a very long time to come. I still light memory fires with little pieces of that memory and its embers keep me warm with love.
A new constellation formed in the sky that night. It was just for me. It may not be seen by many people or even have a scientific name, but it is there. When I look up in the sky my eyes always find it. It shines like a comet blazing its way through the universe leaving stardust trails that light the way for me to see my line of flight toward my own private planetary alignment.
I would welcome knowing that some kind of planetary interference was responsible for some of the choices that I made, that way I had an excuse for it turning out all wrong...... "The heavens made me do it"
It was all sent down from heaven alright, unfortunately I had to make a little hell out of it before I saw the heavenly light. That is not to say that life has been hell, actually quite the contrary, but when things would go a bit awry I tended to lose sight of the alignment and go off on a tangent. I know now that the planetary pull always brought me back into the alignment with myself. The awareness of this fact happens at different times for everyone. I am most fortunate to recognize it now.
My "Star" flight began its boarding call with that little yellow slip of paper that arrived courtesy of the Western Union man. This destination point would open up many doors to the reasons and actions that would be carried with me to this day. The journey has since come full circle and is now completing it's last arc of closure.
In trying to take control of this amazing situation, I began to develop coping skills to mask the anxieties that filled my days till the destination could be reached. The mere fact of meeting the one "Star" that started and ended my day with her music was very compelling. Being someone who knew no rules and charted my own boat, I had no idea how to gain a calm sailing into the conclusion. The huge amount of daydreams and fantasies multiplied daily and I would have twenty one days of unaligned days. From a childhood perspective, suffice it to say.... an eternity. Thus began my foray into trying to take control,the inability to allow control from other than myself, and last but not least, anxiety anorexia. As it seemed to my Mother, she would end up taking a holocaust type child to this concert, because of me being such a foreign entity who could not eat,sleep,or focus. In recollection I can only assume that she was aware of why I was being this way and tried her best to assure me that all would be fine.
When the magic concert day arrived it was one of the most stressful days of my whole nine years on earth. No one had schooled me on this and all I wanted was to be "Hollywood Cool" and not have any fears there to take anything away from me. I needed control but Mother's parental rights won over anything else, besides I really needed her safety net, should I fall.
We arrived early at the concert hall and I first saw the big "STAR SPECTACULAR" bus that held all the performing artists. We were greeted by a stagehand and ushered briskly to the area where we were to be staying. The great thing of where we were sitting is that it was in eyesight of the bus where one by one, the ten artists playing the show stepped off the bus and made their way to where we were sitting. It was a big stage room and it was obviously the sitting room where each performer stayed before their performance. My heart was beating out of control in getting to meet some of the most popular rock-n-roll artists of their time. My Mother was so very gracious and when we were introduced to each performer, I transcended all space and time. One by one the autographs appeared in my autograph book, yet I had still had yet to meet the one "Main Star". For fearing the worst,,,and my anxiety completely out of control we were then summoned to the bus and were told to follow the stagehand. Grasping ever ounce of energy and holding on to the many records that I was carrying we stepped up into the bus as it was time for the meeting that I had planned in my mind for the last twenty one days.
My "STAR" shined brightly that night. She was everything and more. She was as small in height as I was and so very kind and genuine. At that meeting a promise would be made and to this very moment in time, this promise has never been broken. Nothing else existed for me at that moment and it's bright afterglow would not fade away for a very long time to come. I still light memory fires with little pieces of that memory and its embers keep me warm with love.
A new constellation formed in the sky that night. It was just for me. It may not be seen by many people or even have a scientific name, but it is there. When I look up in the sky my eyes always find it. It shines like a comet blazing its way through the universe leaving stardust trails that light the way for me to see my line of flight toward my own private planetary alignment.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
REROUTING THE FLIGHT PATTERN
No matter how thorough we plan the route's of life, situations can occur that can alter your well planned route and lead you to a completely different destination. The determining factors of how it will affect you depend greatly on how you choose to land. You could crash land or just glide safely till you slide with bumps along the way to a stopping point. Either way it will be up to you to get your feet back on solid ground and walk away from the site of the landing, very glad to be alive. The comprehension of these life route's is overwhelming and at most times totally vague of accurate directions, but still you put it all together and hope the shape will take place. Much like a model airplane, with lots of pieces in the box and with no directions on how to put it all together. Yet you attempt to look at the pieces to decipher where they all go and suddenly you have molded it into its shape and form. Life really is similar to the box of pieces in the model kit, you just take it a piece at a time and await the results. You will just have to make sure that you have enough glue to hold it all together as it all may come apart at a later date.
It was that warm summer day, and a telegram that held the key to the new door that I would walk through.
As the last of the guests slowly made their way home that summer evening, the shock of the information that came with the yellow telegram letter had completely altered my silent route plan. Eventhough I had many directions to turn and follow in the years that lay ahead, as I had not become an adult yet, my map of life direction took a huge turn to the right that evening.
I had a direction that I started out in, totally without any guidelines,restrictions or assumed conclusions. I just did what I wanted to do and now see that I did it all from the heart. Totally innocent of what consequences could occur by doing so.
It seems that from my constant letter writing for almost two years to my P.O. Box on the back of that Decca record album had produced results that I had not been prepared for. Mother had her way of approaching things, with just a tinge of parental control to make you think you may have done something wrong but were not in any trouble. As she approached the moment to let us know what the telegram contained, I could sense that something was up but I never had a clue it would be about me and my constant letter writing to Brenda Lee. It seems the telegram came in the form of an invitation to a concert that Brenda would be doing in our hometown and I was being asked to attend the concert as she wanted to meet the boy who had been writing all the letters. Knowing that I was underage for this event the telegram would serve as my entrance into the concert and would place me in an area away from the crowd. You had to be at least thirteen years of age to attend and it was a chaperoned event. My Mother was as surprised as I and, as she would later tell me, she was as excited as I was. I can still feel the first feelings of anxiety growing deep inside my stomach. I was beginning to realize that I would meet the person whom I idolized and cherished. I guess by today's standards it would be considered stalking someone by having written so many letters but to have an opportunity like this arrive from out of the blue was a divine intervention. Reliving the memory is truly recognizing how a moment of time can change the course of anyone's life in a split second. By the end of that day, I would never be the same boy that started his day with both feet running on the ground. The end of that evening my feet no longer touched the ground and would not feel the earth for quite a while. My imagination leaped beyond the heights of a ten year old boy and the fantasies of the pending meeting completely took me to another plain of consciousness. All the people who had made fun of my incessant writing and my obsessive record playing would no longer taunt me with ridicule, as my pay off would soon be deposited into my life's memory bank.
When you have an indelible memory like that and you take the time to analyze how it felt, the gift is presented back to you as if it happened at the very moment your reliving it. The test of time only makes it more precious and the warmth that surrounds your heart is carried to your soul deep within.
On that day my flight pattern had changed and I would take a new route that would take me in directions that you can only dream about. It was at that moment in my time that I knew I was following a route predestined for me. While the logic of it all did not become evident till my later years, I soulfully feel that I was getting guidance from within. As if something or someone lifted me and put me on the correct flight towards my destiny.
It was that warm summer day, and a telegram that held the key to the new door that I would walk through.
As the last of the guests slowly made their way home that summer evening, the shock of the information that came with the yellow telegram letter had completely altered my silent route plan. Eventhough I had many directions to turn and follow in the years that lay ahead, as I had not become an adult yet, my map of life direction took a huge turn to the right that evening.
I had a direction that I started out in, totally without any guidelines,restrictions or assumed conclusions. I just did what I wanted to do and now see that I did it all from the heart. Totally innocent of what consequences could occur by doing so.
It seems that from my constant letter writing for almost two years to my P.O. Box on the back of that Decca record album had produced results that I had not been prepared for. Mother had her way of approaching things, with just a tinge of parental control to make you think you may have done something wrong but were not in any trouble. As she approached the moment to let us know what the telegram contained, I could sense that something was up but I never had a clue it would be about me and my constant letter writing to Brenda Lee. It seems the telegram came in the form of an invitation to a concert that Brenda would be doing in our hometown and I was being asked to attend the concert as she wanted to meet the boy who had been writing all the letters. Knowing that I was underage for this event the telegram would serve as my entrance into the concert and would place me in an area away from the crowd. You had to be at least thirteen years of age to attend and it was a chaperoned event. My Mother was as surprised as I and, as she would later tell me, she was as excited as I was. I can still feel the first feelings of anxiety growing deep inside my stomach. I was beginning to realize that I would meet the person whom I idolized and cherished. I guess by today's standards it would be considered stalking someone by having written so many letters but to have an opportunity like this arrive from out of the blue was a divine intervention. Reliving the memory is truly recognizing how a moment of time can change the course of anyone's life in a split second. By the end of that day, I would never be the same boy that started his day with both feet running on the ground. The end of that evening my feet no longer touched the ground and would not feel the earth for quite a while. My imagination leaped beyond the heights of a ten year old boy and the fantasies of the pending meeting completely took me to another plain of consciousness. All the people who had made fun of my incessant writing and my obsessive record playing would no longer taunt me with ridicule, as my pay off would soon be deposited into my life's memory bank.
When you have an indelible memory like that and you take the time to analyze how it felt, the gift is presented back to you as if it happened at the very moment your reliving it. The test of time only makes it more precious and the warmth that surrounds your heart is carried to your soul deep within.
On that day my flight pattern had changed and I would take a new route that would take me in directions that you can only dream about. It was at that moment in my time that I knew I was following a route predestined for me. While the logic of it all did not become evident till my later years, I soulfully feel that I was getting guidance from within. As if something or someone lifted me and put me on the correct flight towards my destiny.
Friday, January 22, 2010
TOO MUCH BAGGAGE
When you are born, you enter the world with an unseen empty, very large suitcase. In my case it was an unseen empty huge steamer trunk with a hundred compartments. All just ready to be filled with ..........! You really have no idea that it even exists and little by little it becomes filled with all the things that make up YOU. It is sort of apropo considering that you do need some of your baggage to make pertinent decisions that affect your life no matter how they may turn out. All of us are aware of the things that are being put away in the cases yet very few of us clean them out often enough. When it overflows and you can't seem to shut the top then you know that a limit has been reached and it must be emptied. It must be emptied in order to clear the way for new incoming baggage yet to be discovered. Perhaps the word "baggage" is inappropriate but it still is carried like luggage with you day after day and gets heavier and heavier as the years go by. If we opened up each compartment and looked at what we socked away we would end up just throwing it all away because you can't drum up the reason as to why it was there in the first place. However there are certain things that we hold and cling to as the answers to the whys and the wherefores. Once again they are just pieces of some distorted past reasoning for why you felt the way you did, as in the past. PAST, being the main word. As in over and done with, never to be again, etc....etc....Remember PAST and DONE....
In conclusion ask yourself why did you hang on to the past reasoning in the first place. Was it familiar, and made it easier not to move forward? Or were you just afraid of having to take a look at yourself and accept the role you have created for yourself. Whatever the reasons it's time to dump the past and sanitize the suitcase from all the crap that has been rotting there for the longest time.
My baggage came with so many options I could not even keep up with them all. Funny thing about the options they were never utilized because I just kept stuffing more in the trunk. The options were always there but they were just pushed aside and unrecognized until later and then it was way to much to handle in one clean out. Removing all the past debris allowed the options to surface and be seen more readily.
My first cognitive packing day was in the summer of 1962. It was that year that I would really start packing that steamer trunk. Being not quite ten yet I was well on my way to begin the packing process that seemed so innately born.
This summer day had begun like most childhood days and as always Saturdays were the best. Everyone was home and the neighborhood bristled with activity and the sound of lawnmowers and kids playing resonated through the air. My record player was cranking out the repetitive songs and the home activities fell in step with the music. A sunny summer Saturday it would always would end up with an outdoor barbecue, or as us southerners would say "a cookout". With the house getting cleaned and the laundry on the line all we had to do was just pass the time being kids. The excitement of those days reigned supreme and the summer days went on forever. On this one special day it would have a surprise attendee that would alter the course of my life for many years.
Enter ....the steamer trunk.
He did not wear a logo like "Samsonite" or "Louis Vuitton" but alas he came packaged in black and yellow with a shirt that read "Western Union" and a funny black hat that had a place where a letter stuck out from it. I had never heard of Western Union and the somber quiet that fell on my parents suddenly changed the mood of the day. It seems that when a man appeared that dressed like that, he was bringing news that something bad had happened and he was bringing the letter that would detail it all. He had a pad with him and that required a signature. My Mother nervously signed the paper and then he handed her the letter, said Thank You, and turned and left as quickly as he had arrived. The moment of reckoning would be staved off till later as she realized that she did not want the day to be ruined by this yellow letter. She went inside and left it and returned, and told my Father they would deal with it later.
No one explained it to me, but it was emotionally obvious that something ominous lingered after the Western Union man left. I could not let it go and pushed the limit of too many questions, each time being shot down and told it was nothing to worry about. Ergo.. first mind trick object to place in its compartment: WORRY
After some time had passed other neighbors joined in our festivities yet all the commotion did not detract from what lay in the yellow envelope. I remember going for a "bathroom" break and curiously holding the letter and trying to figure out what magic information was written on the inside. BUSTED!!! Reprimanded to go back outside I left and on my way out I subconsciously slid in another mind trick in its compartment...CALCULATING
The repeated calculating trips to the bathroom that day produced no results as the letter vanished from view. Geez...it was like I was being drawn and possessed by this letter and had no reasons except a foreign gut feeling that I had to know what it contained inside it's paper walls. As the evening wore on my Mother had disappeared and I had not noticed her disappearence,as I was easily distracted with the happenings in my own back yard. I tripped over a croquet ball and as I picked myself up I saw my Mother approach my Father with a smile unlike I had ever seen. I could not hear what was being said at the time but I had a vague sense that bad news did not arrive at all. Still I was curious about the letter and had no idea that it would change the course of my life. Intuitively, feelings were vibrating within me and I had no knowledge as to how to recognize exactly what was happening, but I can tell you it was really powerful. The evening would end with a surprise that would stun my Mother, my Father, the neighbors visiting and spin me completely out of control.
POST IT NOTE on trunk....don't forget to take "CONTROL"
When you take moments of time, void of distractions, the transparent views of how your world became created becomes in full focus. Albeit hard to accept and not easy to swallow. My cognitive medicine was voraciously vile and hideous and as time has passed it has aged into a vintage wine with still a bite to every sip.
When opening your private suitcase remember what you put in it years ago you can no longer wear and it must be thrown out or given away. I have chosen to throw it all away and each day my trunk is getting smaller and my reality suit fits much better. I no longer carry the weight of the past as it no longer has room in my carry on.
In conclusion ask yourself why did you hang on to the past reasoning in the first place. Was it familiar, and made it easier not to move forward? Or were you just afraid of having to take a look at yourself and accept the role you have created for yourself. Whatever the reasons it's time to dump the past and sanitize the suitcase from all the crap that has been rotting there for the longest time.
My baggage came with so many options I could not even keep up with them all. Funny thing about the options they were never utilized because I just kept stuffing more in the trunk. The options were always there but they were just pushed aside and unrecognized until later and then it was way to much to handle in one clean out. Removing all the past debris allowed the options to surface and be seen more readily.
My first cognitive packing day was in the summer of 1962. It was that year that I would really start packing that steamer trunk. Being not quite ten yet I was well on my way to begin the packing process that seemed so innately born.
This summer day had begun like most childhood days and as always Saturdays were the best. Everyone was home and the neighborhood bristled with activity and the sound of lawnmowers and kids playing resonated through the air. My record player was cranking out the repetitive songs and the home activities fell in step with the music. A sunny summer Saturday it would always would end up with an outdoor barbecue, or as us southerners would say "a cookout". With the house getting cleaned and the laundry on the line all we had to do was just pass the time being kids. The excitement of those days reigned supreme and the summer days went on forever. On this one special day it would have a surprise attendee that would alter the course of my life for many years.
Enter ....the steamer trunk.
He did not wear a logo like "Samsonite" or "Louis Vuitton" but alas he came packaged in black and yellow with a shirt that read "Western Union" and a funny black hat that had a place where a letter stuck out from it. I had never heard of Western Union and the somber quiet that fell on my parents suddenly changed the mood of the day. It seems that when a man appeared that dressed like that, he was bringing news that something bad had happened and he was bringing the letter that would detail it all. He had a pad with him and that required a signature. My Mother nervously signed the paper and then he handed her the letter, said Thank You, and turned and left as quickly as he had arrived. The moment of reckoning would be staved off till later as she realized that she did not want the day to be ruined by this yellow letter. She went inside and left it and returned, and told my Father they would deal with it later.
No one explained it to me, but it was emotionally obvious that something ominous lingered after the Western Union man left. I could not let it go and pushed the limit of too many questions, each time being shot down and told it was nothing to worry about. Ergo.. first mind trick object to place in its compartment: WORRY
After some time had passed other neighbors joined in our festivities yet all the commotion did not detract from what lay in the yellow envelope. I remember going for a "bathroom" break and curiously holding the letter and trying to figure out what magic information was written on the inside. BUSTED!!! Reprimanded to go back outside I left and on my way out I subconsciously slid in another mind trick in its compartment...CALCULATING
The repeated calculating trips to the bathroom that day produced no results as the letter vanished from view. Geez...it was like I was being drawn and possessed by this letter and had no reasons except a foreign gut feeling that I had to know what it contained inside it's paper walls. As the evening wore on my Mother had disappeared and I had not noticed her disappearence,as I was easily distracted with the happenings in my own back yard. I tripped over a croquet ball and as I picked myself up I saw my Mother approach my Father with a smile unlike I had ever seen. I could not hear what was being said at the time but I had a vague sense that bad news did not arrive at all. Still I was curious about the letter and had no idea that it would change the course of my life. Intuitively, feelings were vibrating within me and I had no knowledge as to how to recognize exactly what was happening, but I can tell you it was really powerful. The evening would end with a surprise that would stun my Mother, my Father, the neighbors visiting and spin me completely out of control.
POST IT NOTE on trunk....don't forget to take "CONTROL"
When you take moments of time, void of distractions, the transparent views of how your world became created becomes in full focus. Albeit hard to accept and not easy to swallow. My cognitive medicine was voraciously vile and hideous and as time has passed it has aged into a vintage wine with still a bite to every sip.
When opening your private suitcase remember what you put in it years ago you can no longer wear and it must be thrown out or given away. I have chosen to throw it all away and each day my trunk is getting smaller and my reality suit fits much better. I no longer carry the weight of the past as it no longer has room in my carry on.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
AN UNCERTAIN FLIGHT ITINERARY
Isn't it funny how much work goes into getting away for a vacation and how much work there is to do when you return? Why is it you have to create a morbid anxiety of preparing for a trip that is badly needed for mind and soul healing. I have always had a problem with the anxiety of giving myself the well deserved time off. I have wondered on many occasions as to how all that came to be for me, and at what time and place did all the trepidations start to sneak their way into my mind. When referencing my past to come up with some kind of logical reasoning for this very real problem I can see the beginning of the fears. Having had several childhood family vacations for two weeks at a time I remember when arriving back from a trip how everything seemed to have changed during the time away. The time space away had left me out of some unknown happenings that I felt I should have had prior knowledge about. I always felt so very disjointed and associated the trips to uncertain, unconscious, and unnerving secret events that seemed planned without my consent. It was total illogical thinking due to the inexperienced mind of a young boy yet it seemed to have carried over to the present. While all the signs pointed to needless assumptions, I now, really have to work hard on releasing the desire to conjure up the fears of being away from my daily environment. The awareness of acknowledging these happenings the first time should prevent future repeat performances, yet somehow they get seeded inside the mind and show up just when you think you mastered the art of stressless trip preparation.
It would seem to me that most of it stems from second guessing the decision to leave in the first place, like your not entitled to leave it all behind because your mind is addicted to the chaos and hates the quiet time of nothing to do. I never knew the realm of nice-n-easy I always gravitated toward the chaos. Hell, I don't know why, it just felt right to have a million and one things happening and to never be able to sit still.
I can't even imagine how all of this must have seemed to my parents. Most kids would dire to get a vacation and go somewhere fun, but not me. If it did not have a jukebox and a place to plug in my portable 45 record player, I had absolutely no interest. The visiting of family was the worst. UGH! How boring and mindless. To sit around and drink coffee, cocktails, play cards and smoke their cigarettes was just not on my agenda. They would find out soon from my constant harassing and complaining of wanting to visit the local record store. After all it was all about what I wanted to do and the rest of the world could just wait. The inability to drive myself was however a determining factor in achieving my way, so I would just strike out on my own and and find them myself. It was enough to make a Mother panic when her son disappears and leaves no information as to where he may be. After several hours of getting lost in an unknown town and hunting for the local record store I would somehow manage to find one and loiter there as long as I could before I would make my way back to where we were staying. I never did understand the need for the local police that appeared on a couple of occasions. As I casually strolled up to ask what the problem was, I would be violently reprimanded for not leaving any information as to where I went. I do however recall letting the police know that I had been ignored and that all they wanted to do was drink and smoke and ignore my pleas for help. It left my Mother in a precarious position to explain to the police about the neglect of her A-D-D child. Those evenings were hungry ones, to bed with no supper, (hmm..should the police know?....) NOPE...I didn't care for I held close to me the purchases that made it all worthwhile and all those records lulled me to a blissful night of total solitary confinement and no family around. AAAAAAAHHHHHH!
My inability to bend and go with the flow was a very difficult thing for me to do. The uncertainty of most things leave me uneasy. Time away from anything can be most rewarding if you see it through mature eyes and not from the eyes of youth. I realize now that to return to what you left behind gives you a whole new perspective. To leave things behind for the need of relaxation should yield a whole new personna as it slowly unravels the tightly knitted sleeve of stress.
If we take the time to recieve the gift of holiday then we can appreciate better what we left behind. In my game of life, my itinerary is usually packed full of "WHAT IF'S and the SHOULD I's and of course the IF I's...they all have attachments that I have created in order to complete my step out the front door to wherever. My reality is learning to let go of those hectic days before a trip and the fear of the return trip and the quest to fly high while I am gone.
It's not just the mind that needs the holiday. You need the holiday from the "SELF" that is "YOU" during the weeks of normal home life behavior. Whatever that may include on a day to day schedule.
I realize now that an uncertain flight itinerary can result in unimaginable results. Some of my best findings came from being lost.........and of course, guidance from the local police department.
It would seem to me that most of it stems from second guessing the decision to leave in the first place, like your not entitled to leave it all behind because your mind is addicted to the chaos and hates the quiet time of nothing to do. I never knew the realm of nice-n-easy I always gravitated toward the chaos. Hell, I don't know why, it just felt right to have a million and one things happening and to never be able to sit still.
I can't even imagine how all of this must have seemed to my parents. Most kids would dire to get a vacation and go somewhere fun, but not me. If it did not have a jukebox and a place to plug in my portable 45 record player, I had absolutely no interest. The visiting of family was the worst. UGH! How boring and mindless. To sit around and drink coffee, cocktails, play cards and smoke their cigarettes was just not on my agenda. They would find out soon from my constant harassing and complaining of wanting to visit the local record store. After all it was all about what I wanted to do and the rest of the world could just wait. The inability to drive myself was however a determining factor in achieving my way, so I would just strike out on my own and and find them myself. It was enough to make a Mother panic when her son disappears and leaves no information as to where he may be. After several hours of getting lost in an unknown town and hunting for the local record store I would somehow manage to find one and loiter there as long as I could before I would make my way back to where we were staying. I never did understand the need for the local police that appeared on a couple of occasions. As I casually strolled up to ask what the problem was, I would be violently reprimanded for not leaving any information as to where I went. I do however recall letting the police know that I had been ignored and that all they wanted to do was drink and smoke and ignore my pleas for help. It left my Mother in a precarious position to explain to the police about the neglect of her A-D-D child. Those evenings were hungry ones, to bed with no supper, (hmm..should the police know?....) NOPE...I didn't care for I held close to me the purchases that made it all worthwhile and all those records lulled me to a blissful night of total solitary confinement and no family around. AAAAAAAHHHHHH!
My inability to bend and go with the flow was a very difficult thing for me to do. The uncertainty of most things leave me uneasy. Time away from anything can be most rewarding if you see it through mature eyes and not from the eyes of youth. I realize now that to return to what you left behind gives you a whole new perspective. To leave things behind for the need of relaxation should yield a whole new personna as it slowly unravels the tightly knitted sleeve of stress.
If we take the time to recieve the gift of holiday then we can appreciate better what we left behind. In my game of life, my itinerary is usually packed full of "WHAT IF'S and the SHOULD I's and of course the IF I's...they all have attachments that I have created in order to complete my step out the front door to wherever. My reality is learning to let go of those hectic days before a trip and the fear of the return trip and the quest to fly high while I am gone.
It's not just the mind that needs the holiday. You need the holiday from the "SELF" that is "YOU" during the weeks of normal home life behavior. Whatever that may include on a day to day schedule.
I realize now that an uncertain flight itinerary can result in unimaginable results. Some of my best findings came from being lost.........and of course, guidance from the local police department.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
WINGING IT
When you are given a gift you have the choice to accept it,give it back or totally refuse it. In life, well at least my life, the gifts came in multitudes. I know now that everyday there were more things given to me that I was totally unaware of. The amount of things that came my way went unannounced and snuck in in their own, without any acknowledgement. These gifts were not always of the physical realm that you could play with or hold and touch. No, these were the gifts of awareness that arrived and did their magic to your brain. One of the first gifts of memory to me was realizing that if you kept your hands under the water long enough and the soap was completely rinsed off you would not have to taste a soapy sandwich after washing. Sound silly? Yes..........but it was a gift of awareness. It may be dumb and insignificant but it really was a defining moment to connect the dots from soapy unrinsed hands to a nice peanut butter and jelly sandwich void of soap residue. When you think about those little moments, do you ever realize the amount of information that was given to you? No,of course not, because at the moment you are just taking your daily journey to growing up and there wasn't enough time to pay attention when so much is happening to you.
I see now that we really do go through our lives, just winging it. I would run to the edge of my mountain everyday and leap, naively unafraid of the fall that may occur. I was secretly frightened though and wanted no one to know of my fears. In keeping that side of me hidden I would become belligerent and on the offensive to distract the insecurity. Your peers can be cruel and can instantly point fingers and I wanted no part of that. School was to become,for me, a challenge for the fittest. I learned how to maneuver around the obstacles that were supposed to be "friends and classmates". All the while dodging the bullets that were fired if you didn't agree with the "in" crowd. The "in" crowd was the only way to stay quietly afloat without being noticed as different. The fraudulent thing about that was the "in" crowd was really "in...secure". Great cover up though. Stands to reason as to why we all hid the deepest secrets we NEVER shared with anybody. To this day, I would say that those secrets still lie within us, never to be shared. Instinctively I knew how to stay ahead of the pack but I first had to recognize the gift of intuition and answer the incoming call. When I finally made the connection it became the source of many mental conversations that are still being sent on a daily basis.
With a fervent passion I still "instinctively" wrote my daily letters to my special P.O Box and mailed them everyday on the way to school. My goal was to lick that stamp every morning and have it in the mailbox by 8:15am. After that feat was accomplished, I would take my leap into the day and endure whatever the day would bring.
Funny thing about repetition, it can create amazing outcomes, unknowingly. Little did I know what I had begun to draw to me. The biggest kind of gift that you could never have imagined. The kind of gift that takes years to create and seconds to destroy. The gift that loves and hates, can make you happy and make you cry. The gift that can break your heart and make you soar. You only get a few of these gifts in your lifetime and very,very few last a lifetime. That gift is called FRIEND.
I prefer to call them ..................WING MATES.
Their energy presence helps to keep the air moving under my wings as I fly throughout my life. This gift of a friendship comes with no price tag, but it is hugely valuable and comes with it's own oxygen tank when your plane starts to spin out of control which is a vital thing to have when you need more air to keep gliding.
I see now that we really do go through our lives, just winging it. I would run to the edge of my mountain everyday and leap, naively unafraid of the fall that may occur. I was secretly frightened though and wanted no one to know of my fears. In keeping that side of me hidden I would become belligerent and on the offensive to distract the insecurity. Your peers can be cruel and can instantly point fingers and I wanted no part of that. School was to become,for me, a challenge for the fittest. I learned how to maneuver around the obstacles that were supposed to be "friends and classmates". All the while dodging the bullets that were fired if you didn't agree with the "in" crowd. The "in" crowd was the only way to stay quietly afloat without being noticed as different. The fraudulent thing about that was the "in" crowd was really "in...secure". Great cover up though. Stands to reason as to why we all hid the deepest secrets we NEVER shared with anybody. To this day, I would say that those secrets still lie within us, never to be shared. Instinctively I knew how to stay ahead of the pack but I first had to recognize the gift of intuition and answer the incoming call. When I finally made the connection it became the source of many mental conversations that are still being sent on a daily basis.
With a fervent passion I still "instinctively" wrote my daily letters to my special P.O Box and mailed them everyday on the way to school. My goal was to lick that stamp every morning and have it in the mailbox by 8:15am. After that feat was accomplished, I would take my leap into the day and endure whatever the day would bring.
Funny thing about repetition, it can create amazing outcomes, unknowingly. Little did I know what I had begun to draw to me. The biggest kind of gift that you could never have imagined. The kind of gift that takes years to create and seconds to destroy. The gift that loves and hates, can make you happy and make you cry. The gift that can break your heart and make you soar. You only get a few of these gifts in your lifetime and very,very few last a lifetime. That gift is called FRIEND.
I prefer to call them ..................WING MATES.
Their energy presence helps to keep the air moving under my wings as I fly throughout my life. This gift of a friendship comes with no price tag, but it is hugely valuable and comes with it's own oxygen tank when your plane starts to spin out of control which is a vital thing to have when you need more air to keep gliding.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
POINTS OF INTEREST
Obviously at some point in your life, you have asked the question, "What if I was switched at birth and my real parents lived somewhere else". I wish that I could take back all the time wasted on that thought and the pondering of that question as a younger person. It seems so wrong to speculate on something that never happened or might have happened. Humans have this tendency to always want what may lie on the greener side of their own fence. Whenever my reality went awry all I could think about was that there must be greener fields than in my own yard. My secret castle was hidden in the air. I know I dreamed that on a daily basis. I wanted to jump the fence and take off running so that no one could ever find me and my life would be fabulous grazing that greener pasture. I often believed that someday I would find that green space and all the fame and fortune that went with it. It was to be all that I asked for and I would have all the bells and whistles that came with it. I suppose that being young gives you a certain amount of fantasy based on your lack of life's knowledge, but I was given an abundance of dreams. The fantasies grew daily in my head like a seed that needed to bust through the ground in order to get to the light of the sun. For me that was daily, an urgency that I did not know how to squelch. I just ran with it, for, at times it would become my salvation when all else seemed bleak.
While the dreams and fantasies were good they lacked a lot of information that comes from having everything that you want. Reality is the hard lesson to learn when you really get what you want.
When you begin your ascent into your hopes and dreams make sure you have thought everything through. It's the things that come along for the ride that will trick you up all the time.
My wishes have pretty much all materialized but the added unknown extras that came with them made the reality price go up tremendously.
I began to become more aware of things more in the spring of 1962. I actually got a bit of notoriety for my shows at the center and did a few more singing shows for local day clubs around town and actually made a bit of money. It contributed greatly to my ridiculous vinyl habit. I also became more enraptured in the hair salon my mother went to. I seemed to have developed a thirst for hair knowledge and my ability to understand all of it came very easy for me. A huge opportunity would come for me in the form of a cancellation from "MISS BEATRICE" Mother's hairdresser. She was ill and would be out for two weeks. This was unfortunate for Mother but afforded me an opportunity to show off what I had learned from those many trips to the salon. All the questions that were answered for my understanding surprisingly paid off, much to my Mother's happiness. I suggested that I do her hair for her. I told her that I could set her hair and all we needed were the rollers that "Miss Bea" used and the setting gel for curl support. She laughingly brushed the whole idea off as if I couldn't really do it. She finally gave in and off we went to make our purchases of the things needed. I was overwhelmed at the huge inventory of hair items at the store as I never ventured beyond the record department in any store before. LADY CLAIROL christened me that day as I made my first color application of "Coffee Brown" to my Mother's hair and whipped out her set in 10 minutes after the color was washed off. It was a total shock to my Mother's system as she asked for her bottle of Miles Nervine. While she was unknowingly giving me a huge ego boost, I guess her nerves were just beginning to realize that I really was one those "SPECIAL" boys, she heard talk about. Now mind you that the color and set was not that big of a deal, it would be the final comb out that would make or break the situation. It was also nice that my brother was out of town with my Dad as they had gone fishing and I would not be tortured with remarks about my opportunity.
As the moment of truth was prevailing, I brushed out the rolled set and took that styling comb and took my first stab at teasing hair. In my minds eye and for all the pictures I had seen of the bouffant styles I eagerly attacked with no fear that I could not make it look like those pictures that I had seen. It seemed a little awkward at first and then I remembered how "Miss Bea" would flick her wrist and push down and then I quickly maneuvered the comb to copy her technique. I completed the teasing. I delighted in a giggle from the pain that was caused by my hanging onto her hair for dear life, but let me assure you it was teased. After her quick cigarette break and the drying of the hairspray my moment to shine was just around the corner. It was as if I had done this many times before as Deja-vu spun out of control and I duplicated what I had seen Bea do on many occasions. With no mirror in front of us, I awaited my Mother's viewing results from the bathroom. If there ever was a moment in your life when parental approval was needed this would have been my moment. As an exclamation of "Jesus Christ" loudly expelled from her mouth, I feared the worse but was amazingly surprised as she lauded my creation. "How in the Hell did you do that" she asked.......I had absolutely no idea......I didn't know I couldn't.
Mother had seen me in an entirely different light after that afternoon and it gave me an assurance that I really was not like the rest. I took pride in that knowledge as it would become an indelible part of me. That afternoon took me to a new place that I was totally unprepared for. I had spun ideas of being switched at birth but I knew from that moment on that I was with the right parents. What mother would have let their nine year old do their hair and give him the chance to prove he could succeed.
The greener pastures still would beckon me in my youth but on that day the other side of the fence was not the least bit enticing. It was in my own yard that the grass gleamed. Whether is was from my proving something to myself or the gratitude from my Mother, I was more aware that I was following my path to myself. I would still get caught up in the throws of fame and fortune but it would be some time yet before I understood just how really green my grass was all the time. I don't expect the shooting stars to arrive when those awareness moments occur, I just quietly revel in them. I can feel them....... as they are just points of interest along my sky way.
While the dreams and fantasies were good they lacked a lot of information that comes from having everything that you want. Reality is the hard lesson to learn when you really get what you want.
When you begin your ascent into your hopes and dreams make sure you have thought everything through. It's the things that come along for the ride that will trick you up all the time.
My wishes have pretty much all materialized but the added unknown extras that came with them made the reality price go up tremendously.
I began to become more aware of things more in the spring of 1962. I actually got a bit of notoriety for my shows at the center and did a few more singing shows for local day clubs around town and actually made a bit of money. It contributed greatly to my ridiculous vinyl habit. I also became more enraptured in the hair salon my mother went to. I seemed to have developed a thirst for hair knowledge and my ability to understand all of it came very easy for me. A huge opportunity would come for me in the form of a cancellation from "MISS BEATRICE" Mother's hairdresser. She was ill and would be out for two weeks. This was unfortunate for Mother but afforded me an opportunity to show off what I had learned from those many trips to the salon. All the questions that were answered for my understanding surprisingly paid off, much to my Mother's happiness. I suggested that I do her hair for her. I told her that I could set her hair and all we needed were the rollers that "Miss Bea" used and the setting gel for curl support. She laughingly brushed the whole idea off as if I couldn't really do it. She finally gave in and off we went to make our purchases of the things needed. I was overwhelmed at the huge inventory of hair items at the store as I never ventured beyond the record department in any store before. LADY CLAIROL christened me that day as I made my first color application of "Coffee Brown" to my Mother's hair and whipped out her set in 10 minutes after the color was washed off. It was a total shock to my Mother's system as she asked for her bottle of Miles Nervine. While she was unknowingly giving me a huge ego boost, I guess her nerves were just beginning to realize that I really was one those "SPECIAL" boys, she heard talk about. Now mind you that the color and set was not that big of a deal, it would be the final comb out that would make or break the situation. It was also nice that my brother was out of town with my Dad as they had gone fishing and I would not be tortured with remarks about my opportunity.
As the moment of truth was prevailing, I brushed out the rolled set and took that styling comb and took my first stab at teasing hair. In my minds eye and for all the pictures I had seen of the bouffant styles I eagerly attacked with no fear that I could not make it look like those pictures that I had seen. It seemed a little awkward at first and then I remembered how "Miss Bea" would flick her wrist and push down and then I quickly maneuvered the comb to copy her technique. I completed the teasing. I delighted in a giggle from the pain that was caused by my hanging onto her hair for dear life, but let me assure you it was teased. After her quick cigarette break and the drying of the hairspray my moment to shine was just around the corner. It was as if I had done this many times before as Deja-vu spun out of control and I duplicated what I had seen Bea do on many occasions. With no mirror in front of us, I awaited my Mother's viewing results from the bathroom. If there ever was a moment in your life when parental approval was needed this would have been my moment. As an exclamation of "Jesus Christ" loudly expelled from her mouth, I feared the worse but was amazingly surprised as she lauded my creation. "How in the Hell did you do that" she asked.......I had absolutely no idea......I didn't know I couldn't.
Mother had seen me in an entirely different light after that afternoon and it gave me an assurance that I really was not like the rest. I took pride in that knowledge as it would become an indelible part of me. That afternoon took me to a new place that I was totally unprepared for. I had spun ideas of being switched at birth but I knew from that moment on that I was with the right parents. What mother would have let their nine year old do their hair and give him the chance to prove he could succeed.
The greener pastures still would beckon me in my youth but on that day the other side of the fence was not the least bit enticing. It was in my own yard that the grass gleamed. Whether is was from my proving something to myself or the gratitude from my Mother, I was more aware that I was following my path to myself. I would still get caught up in the throws of fame and fortune but it would be some time yet before I understood just how really green my grass was all the time. I don't expect the shooting stars to arrive when those awareness moments occur, I just quietly revel in them. I can feel them....... as they are just points of interest along my sky way.
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