Humor – Page 3 – Voices in My Head

Tell Me What You Really Think

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It’s a brand new day on which to write another page of my life. What will be written today, I wonder? Who will show up on the page? Will Julia be lighthearted and funny today? Will she be serious and introspective? Will she be a little self-deprecating, or slightly irreverent? Or maybe check all of the above? Always a mystery, always a surprise, ever an opportunity to sit back and watch as the daily script of my life plays itself out.

Today I am aware that there are multitudes of personalities crashing around inside clamoring for attention. Me. ME. No, ME!! The committee in my head is busy at work jostling for position. It’s a circus in here. The jugglers and the clowns are duking it out for top billing and the jugglers are losing. It’s hard to keep juggling while duking it out.

Last night, one of my dear friends called to share a few thoughts about Voices. She loves me. She thinks I’m wonderful. She thinks that sometimes my writing fails to express the me that she sees, and that upsets her because she believes that I am showing the world a picture does not match her view of me. She wants me to shine, to show the best of myself to the world, to show myself in a favorable light. I’m fine being in it warts and all, if it helps anyone else.

Her comments sent me off on yet another inner quest in search of motive and purpose. Why do I write? Who am I writing for? Am I afraid of vulnerability? How do I feel about being judged, or misjudged? How am I being perceived, or misperceived? Does it matter to me? Do I care what others think? If so, why?

What a gift to have a friend who loves me enough to tell me what she really thinks.

Oh, but wait. Have I interpreted her words correctly? Did I get it right? The only way I will get an accurate answer is to ask her. My perception of her comments is strictly that: my perception. Perhaps one or both of us might be wrong. Sometimes the windows through which we view life might get a little foggy and benefit by a bit of Windex.

Here’s the bottom-line question to myself. Will I let the perceived images and impressions of others stop me, from writing, or from telling my truth? Will I let the perceptions and interpretations of others change the way I write? Or the things I say about myself? Or allow my vulnerabilities to tempt me to go into hiding? No, I think not.

I had a little chat with myself about that, and conclude that whatever turns up on the page is okay with me. And whatever anyone thinks is none of my business. So, what is it today? Is it lighthearted and funny? Serious and introspective? Or maybe a little self-deprecating, or slightly irreverent? Or check all of the above? What do you think?

Whatever it is, it didn’t quite turn out the way I expected, but that’s just part of the mystery. Always a surprise, ever an opportunity to sit back and watch the daily script play itself out. We are the writers, producers, directors, and actors of each new day. We are the ones who make it up as we go, and we’re the ones who see it through the eyes of our own inner vision. I don’t know about you, but my script has a happy ending.

Note: The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

Dusting Off What Truly Matters

I read that clothing sales are down and pajama sales are up. Small wonder. A life in the day of a pandemic—wait—what day is it today? Time and waistlines are partners in expansion.

This week has brought me a case of lethargy complete with days that roll on by at both the crawl of a turtle and the speed of light. Is that even possible? I get up, arm myself with my coveted cup of coffee, park myself in my Lazygirl, and suck my thumb for a while until the caffeine kicks in. I contemplate, meditate, then write the blog du jour and from there, it becomes a downhill slide.

All of my good intentions, my stabs at creating a life of balance between inner and outer work go cattywampus as I search for the eject button on the Lazygirl. Huh. There doesn’t seem to be one. Drat. An unnerving pile of laundry grows in the night while layers of dust turn the dark hardwood floor the color of ash—evident mostly in the morning sun that shines its light on a dusty path as I make my way to the kitchen. Handy for me I have a friend who loves her new vacuum cleaner so much that she runs around our condo building looking for floors to vacuum. It’s a Teneco by the way. Never heard of it, but if I didn’t have her to do it for me, I might have to buy one.

I know there’s a message in here somewhere. I just need to find it. Ummm—it might have to do with how I feel about myself as I laze away the days living like a slug. Yep. That’s it. How do I feel about myself? Not good. It feels as if I’m letting myself down again by not doing the things that I know are good for me. I’m not listening to the urging of the quiet voice within myself that encourages me to get up and get moving. Life in the slug lane does not produce a feel-good sense of self. It’s depressing and I don’t like depressing. It’s enough to make me decide that it’s time to do something about my attitude. But what?

Just get up and get moving. Oh, really? Is that all? How you do that without energy, enthusiasm, or will? What am I missing? Hmmm.

Oops. Maybe I’ve lost sight of what matters most. Maybe I’ve forgotten to keep my eye upon the donut and slid headlong down into the emptiness of the hole. Maybe I have lost sight of my meaning, purpose, goals, or flunked willingness. As much as I want to clear away the dust and return to a cleaner, clearer better version of myself, there are just times when I need help. Pay attention, Julia. Ask for what you need.

Okay, God. I can’t do this myself. I need some willingness please. Like magic, willingness appears and morphs into want to. Instant presto—the fans are flamed and I’m back. When that happens—watch out world—here I come.

Forgetfulness is a mistake that I seem to repeat, but as an earnest student in the university of life, I get to retake my classes until I learn what I must. Since one of my goals is to graduate with honors, I’d better get busy and work for an A+ in Feel-Good 101.

To Do or Not to Do

Yesterday’s blog was all about setting priorities for post-pandemic life New Normal. Then as if on cue, I received a You Tube video (see link below) from my friend Pamela for the folks in her exercise for seniors class. Perfect! Just the incentive I needed to get up out of my Lazygirl and get moving.

Before diving in head first, of course, I had to see what I was in for, so I sat and watched for all of ten minutes before I had to turn it off due to sheer exhaustion. How does she do that? Where does she get all that energy? The Jane Fonda of Seniors.

Well duh. She does it because she does it. Obviously, there was a point in her life where she simply decided to do it, so she did it. She works out. I watch. The good news is that my ten-minute excursion into Exercise by Voyeurism sent me off on another round of self-exploration.

I’ve always been better at dropping bad habits than adopting good ones. Clearly, I’m better at passive activity (is that an oxymoron?) like not smoking, not drinking, and not watching TV than I am at the stuff I have to do—the aggressive stuff, like changing my diet, exercising, meditating, building good habits. I guess that my lazy nature simply prefers the not doing to the doing.

But in keeping with yesterday’s venture into creating a new game plan for post-pandemic life, a balance between doing and being was high on the list, right up there with exercise and time management. Hmm. I guess it’s no accident that Pamela’s video landed in my inbox when it did.

I am happy to say that today marks the one-month anniversary of my commitment to write and publish a daily blog. One month! That’s pretty doggoned miraculous for a reluctant doer like myself, I’d say. Kudos to me.

As Pamela keeps on exercising, I keep on writing—at least for now. Her dedication fuels mine. It gives me the incentive to keep on keeping on and to do whatever I can to improve daily, not just writing, but my life in its entirety, even if requires getting out of my Lazygirl and shaking my booty. Rats. Oh wait—I can do it joyfully, or I can do it grudgingly. Always my choice, right?

Today I’m going take a stab at exercising, even if I last less than five minutes. Today, I added fuel to my writing fire by ordering a book by fellow blogger Jessica Davidson (Free Your Pen Website). Today, I will do my best to do whatever is before me to do. As I persevere, I’ll get stronger and last longer by strengthening muscles, both physical and spiritual. The more I do, the more I can do.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life and there’s a whole lot of doing and being yet to be done. Today I will celebrate that I woke up this morning and that I have another day in which to do it. Today, I will give thanks for it all. Including the exercise.

PS: Link to Pamela’s video: https://youtu.be/MUBPOa6P8IQ

PPS: To all of you beautiful life giving nurturers out there, Happy Mother’s Day, with love!

Are You in the Audience?

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If you ask me what I am grateful for today, I have a one word answer. It’s you.

Yes, you. You who are taking the time to read these words, you who are consistent faithful readers, you who are fellow bloggers whom I’ve never met, you who are friends and family I know so well, you who write comments and push the Follow and Like buttons. Yes. It’s you— you who I think about every day with great gratitude in my heart for just being here, you who forgive my misuse of who and whom’s.

Writing is a solitary job. It often feels as if I am sitting blindfolded on a dark stage playing to an unseen audience who sit in chairs wondering what to expect and why they came. As I send work out into the blogosphere headed toward unknown destinations, it is impossible to know if anyone is out there reading. Push the button, let the chips fall where they may, let the results be whatever they are.

Artists have an advantage over writers, because works of art require only a momentary glance to be appreciated, but for writers, it’s different. Reading requires an investment of time, energy, and effort. For this reason, I am all the more grateful to you for your willingness to sit and read, rather than glance and walk away.

I can only guess at your motive for reading. Perhaps it is because you are a loyal friend offering support and encouragement. Or perhaps you are a fellow blogger in search of food to fuel the fire of your own inner passion. Or perhaps you resonate with some of my life experiences because they are similar to your own.

Perhaps like me, you have a desire to transform your world and your life into something better, to join in consciousness to create a mighty force of love to move higher up the ladder toward a vision of yourself and of a new world. Or perhaps you are drawn for a multiplicity of reasons obscure to your conscious mind. Perhaps. Perhaps not. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

I love you guys. I hope that you will drop by and say hi once in awhile by pressing the Follow or Like button or share your thoughts in the comments section. Be forewarned—it can take a bit of determination and perseverance to comment on WordPress, but then, isn’t life just like that sometimes?

If you’re looking for a bottom line, here it is: you feed my soul. Your presence fills up the black hole of space in an auditorium full of empty seats. I truly, truly do appreciate you and I offer silent blessings when I know that you’ve stopped by for a read.

As a small girl once said to her amused audience when she accepted a grand award, “I thank you from my bottom to my top.” Well said.

The Soup of the Soul

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Sorry to say that my highly anticipated woo-woo workshop click turned out to be a disappointment. Too bad I couldn’t fast forward and zoom through the frustrating parts about stuff I already know and scientific stuff that I don’t understand. Sad to say, it just wasn’t my cup of tea.

As I sat wanting to curl up in a ball and suck my thumb for comfort, I asked myself why I was feeling so bored, restless, and resentful of the amount of time and money that had been extracted from my wallet and life on an event that seemed like such a waste. Where is the benefit?

I don’t always enjoy asking myself these sorts of questions because sometimes I’m not crazy about the answers. In this situation, I unearthed impatience, anger, and an ego sense that something must be wrong with me for not being happy about doing something that I’m not happy about doing. If I continue thinking about it, I’m sure I’ll dig up more dirt later. Meanwhile, maybe I’ll put that search on my to-do list and think about it tomorrow. or the next day.

Oh, but wait. Is this the benefit? Did I get something that I didn’t sign up for? Perhaps a side order of discernment, or an opportunity to stop and think about inflight corrections that I can make while sitting in isolation wondering what to do with myself?

One thing that did stick with me is that there is a multiplicity of teaching/learning happening on many levels in a woo-woo workshop—and for that matter, maybe also in the content of these blogs. Different insights for different people, depending on a state of consciousness at any given moment in time. I may have nodded off a little here and there, but on some level, I got what I went for, even though I don’t know what it is, exactly.

Meanwhile, I wonder how much of my life is spent engaged in activities that I feel are a waste of my time? How much money do I spend on items and activities that do not feed my soul? How often do I say yes when no is a better answer? How often does impatience or anger cloud my vision of what’s beneath an appearance? Why do I believe that something is “wrong” with me for feeling anger or impatience?

Finding joy in life is an inside job. It comes from finding and honoring one’s own inner essence and living life according to the dictates of the soul rather than from the demands of the ego. Maybe it’s realizing the perfection of one’s own self, warts and all. I sat for two days in a state of boredom to remember that in the end, I am the source of my own happiness.

I get to pick and choose what I think, and how I feel about the experiences that pepper my life with rich opportunity to learn and grow and then decide what is truly important in the overall scheme of things.

Was there a benefit? All over the place. What did I gain? A lot, with some grist for the mill for today’s blog tossed in for added measure.

For some reason, I’m reminded of story about the guy who asked a waiter the question, “What’s the soup du jour?” to which the waiter replied, “It’s soup.” The daily soup of the soul offers a glorious mix of every divinely delicious ingredient available in the infinitely well supplied universal kitchen. Dive in and enjoy!

By the way, I know there is one sweet follower who does not believe that she has a soul. To you dear friend, thank you for being a faithful reader nonetheless. I love you too.

The Seeds of Learning are in the Mistakes

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The day didn’t get off to a very good start. I was jolted awake by the realization that a 10 am meeting might wipe out my self-imposed blog deadline. Enter self-doubt. Then there were about two hours worth of a couple of dozen false starts—write, delete, repeat. Enter frustration. No matter how hard I tried to force the issue, nothing worked except that I was getting nowhere at warp speed. Enter arrgh!

Creativity on demand doesn’t always work out well. Where is the go-with-the-flow?

The answer hit me when I took a wander-around break to clear the cobwebs out of my head. Experts may disagree, but in my mind, the term ego is interchangeable with personality. It just helps me to clarify things a little when I get confused about what’s what. Or maybe with who’s who.

What’s what is that my creativity was hijacked by my ego. The crafty little devil wanted to be in charge (so what else is new?) and was doing battle with my Higher Self for control. Once I manage to to return to my right mind, that doesn’t always bode well for the ego.

After my little sojourn to the kitchen and back, I got it. In my panic and haste to beat the clock, I didn’t take the time to sit down and have a little confab with my Self. Uh oh—flunked meditation again and that means trouble. That’s always a mistake.

But here’s the good news—every mistake comes with a lesson attached. Today’s lesson is, don’t do that again! It’s never a good idea to go running off into the day without stopping to check in with in my Self first because I’ll be led astray by the tricky ego every time. It’s always comforting to remember that every mistake moves me one step closer to a happy ending.

Perhaps the worst mistake of all would be to leap back into life full-steam ahead without using this precious at-home time to delve deep within and connect with the part of me that knows and remembers that I am a Soul, not an ego. Life just works better when viewed from a higher perspective.

There will come a day when this little pandemic vacation getaway will come to an end and then it’s hi ho, hi ho—it’s back to life we go, and I wonder—who will I be and what will I have learned when I come out the other side? What will any of us have learned?

For now, all I know for sure is that it’s hi-ho, hi ho it’s off to a meeting I go.

And tomorrow and the next day too. We’ll see how that goes . . .

Charlie Calling—Or Is It My Soul?

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It’s not that I don’t like dogs, mind you. It’s just that I like them a whole lot better when they belong to someone else. Nope—no dog for me.

Get a dog.

Gee thanks, but no thanks.

And a few days later—

Get a dog.

The banter went on for weeks.

I was emphatic. NO! I don’t want a dog. Ever. I don’t want the responsibility, the expense, the restriction, the dog hair in the butter, the walks in nasty weather, the accidents on the carpet, the health issues, the suffering through the loss at the end. No. No dog for me.

Get a dog.

Finally, after several months of serious resistance, I gave up and got a dog. Surrender Dorothy.

Enter Charlie, a Japanese Chin named Charlie Chin—a caramel sundae of a fluff ball that stole my heart and changed my world forever. It would take too many words to tell you about the wonders or Charlie, or the gifts that he brought into my life, but maybe another day.

Even now after twelve years, it is difficult to fathom the profound lessons that came along wrapped in the package with Charlie. Among the many, the one that stands above all others is the willingness to heed the call of the Inner Voice that knows what is best for the growth of the soul.

Trust me, I’ve heard about a bazillion voices throughout my lifetime, most of them annoying, confusing, obnoxious, and just plain downright not nice. Thankfully through trial and error, I’ve managed to narrow them down to my favorites, the ones I call the committee in my head. By the way, and just so you know, I never thought of myself as crazy. Maybe a little misguided from time to time, but never crazy. Misguided would be courtesy of listening to a bazillion wrong voices. It pays to hear with a discerning ear.

Dogs don’t need to learn how to hear with a discerning ear because they already know. Charlie was wise. He knew how to just listen and be. Sometimes I called him Yoda. Charlie Chin Yoda.

I want to be just like him when I grow up. I want to just listen and be. I want to develop that inner wisdom and knowing that lives within the animal kingdom, and that also lives within us two-legged creatures, if we will just be still long enough to seek it within ourselves.

As we stay cloistered within the walls of our own homes, what better time to do just that—practice our communication skills with the wise Voice within—the voice that leads unfailingly down a path beyond fear and toward love. We’re all going to get where we’re going eventually. Guaranteed. It’s just a matter of how long we’ll linger along the way.

Me? I prefer sooner rather than later. It’s why I got a dog. And quit smoking, and knocked off the wine, and signed on for a daily blog. I guess I’m in a bit of a hurry. How about you?

Just Imagine

analysis blackboard board bubble — Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Hmmm. Day 748 of the virus shut-down and as each day passes the stack of stuff on my desk gets taller. Yesterday I was going to tackle it right after I posted daily Voices. Well, that didn’t happen, did it?

And why is that?

Well, my car died in the garage. My friends Heather and Jim jump-started it and off we went to the dealer for a new battery and regular service, which of course required a return trip for pick up. (Hint: it pays to start your car before 748 days roll by.) Then there was a walk, a nap, and excessive trips to the kitchen for exercises in refrigerator foraging. Beyond that, I can’t remember. If we all get out of this thing without becoming raging alcoholics, obsessive germaphobes, or the size of a blimp we’ll be on top of the game.

I just read a post by Tony Bologna (love the name) that talks about his fear of wasting time. Not me. I’m good at it—in fact, it’s what I do best. Practice is the key. Even as a child, I remember sitting idly on the back porch staring out into the space above neighboring rooftops and hanging out with myself just being. It was glorious then, and it hasn’t lost its magic. Maybe that’s what I was doing yesterday that I can’t remember. Maybe I just zoned out on the world for a while.

On one hand, I might call it procrastination—another one of my strong points. On the other, it could just be a matter of allowing my mind to drift off into the ethers where imagination lives, to a place where creation takes place and thoughts can be played out in the mind and possibilities explored, where futures can be written and rewritten based upon what feels like the best option, and where the mind can be used to heal, forgive, bless, and love.

So maybe I’ll get to that nagging stack of paper today before it topples over and buries me alive, or maybe not. Maybe I’ll get to those phone calls that I’ve promised myself that I would make, or maybe not. Recently, I’ve been hearing a lot of folks mumble about feeling lazy during this time, and putting off what doesn’t have to be done today because we seem to have a whole lot of tomorrows waiting in store. Maybe not.

Maybe this is the perfect time to set aside the gotta-do’s and sit on the back porch and dream a while. Dream of the possibilities. Dream about how to create a new and better world, not just for yourself but for all of us. Dream about what it would be like to live in a peaceful world where love is the leader and harmony rules. What better moment than this to just sit, think, and dream up a new and vastly improved world? As it is my assignment to write daily, perhaps it is also our joint assignment to write a new future for ourselves. We have it in us. We need only do it.

There really is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and it’s waiting for us to claim it. So what say you? Are you in? Can you be counted on to help rewrite the future and dream up a new world? Can you just imagine such a thing? I hope so, because, let’s face it, we need all the help we can get. You and your thoughts matter!

The Zig Zag Path to Enlightenment

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Good morning my Friends. I seem to be having a challenging time getting my writing act together this morning. Too many choices, too many possible directions. Aborted starts and stops, headed somewhere, going nowhere. Come to think of it, that sounds as bit like my life, doesn’t it?

It sounds quite a lot like your life, and like many others, We might add.

Shakespeare got it right when he said that all the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players. So true. So many roles, so many parts, so many characters.

Recently someone asked about my career. That’s a tough question and the answer is elusive because I never really had a well-defined career path. I just kind of zig-zagged my way through life selling whatever came along that I believed in enough to sell. I usually lasted for about six years in each venture, and like a butterfly that sucked the essence out of each flower, I moved on to the next available role as soon as the essence had been extracted. I didn’t exactly appear to be the pinnacle of stability. In my defense I will say that my references were always outstanding—except for my three-month three-month stint selling prearranged funerals. That was the pits and earned me my first and only mutual bye-bye experience. Always in each role though, there was learning to be done, skills to hone, a craft to master. Juicy essence indeed.

Though “Flaky” may have been my middle name, there were three constants that were the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, three passions that moved me forward on the path in spite of occasional zig-zags and side trips on my disjointed career path. Whatever the job du jour, I always kept my eye upon the donut and not upon the hole. The donut was writing, cheerleading, and the search for enlightenment, not necessarily in that order.

There are so many roads to travel, so many choices, so many options to explore, so many possibilities, each one with its own set of consequences, with its own unique outcome. Which one to pursue? Decisions, decisions. Not always my strong suit.

Hmmm. Maybe there’s a way to toss my three passions into a blender and have them come out as a delicious smoothie. Or maybe I’m confusing the blender with the holy grail.

Huh. I started out quoting Shakespeare and now I’ve morphed into Donna Quixote.

Well my Friends, it seems I’ve done all the talking here. I didn’t leave any room for You. In closing, is there anything that you would like to say?

Indeed, we would. We are delighted that you are choosing to do what makes you truly happy. Your willingness to overcome your misgivings about your writing commitment is a major step up the ladder toward enlightenment. It is an assignment, and you are fulfilling it. That you are doing so makes Us happy. You have our continuing love and support.

And that makes me happy. Thank you for being my cheerleaders, dear Friends.

Follow Your Heart Home

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This morning I found myself asking why I have suddenly decided to renew a commitment to write a daily blog. As I sort through the myriad of answers, I discover that yet again I experience some of the same-old, same-old hitches in my git-along that I thought (hoped) were long gone. Guess not. An intertwined mixture of altruistic and egotistic reasons drift by. I don’t always like what I see, but if I can see it, I can change it. Again. Sigh. I thought I already had.

This morning as I sat struggling with today’s blog and asking myself the eternal “why” question I pondered whether or not my efforts are worth it. It was just about then that I received validation in the form of an email telling me that someone had just pushed the “follow” button on Voices in my Head. Ah. Maybe the effort is worth the effort after all. In case you are wondering, Christian, that was you. Thank you.

Part of my wondering process brought to mind another question—or maybe more of a concern. Is a daily blog too much? Does it clog up an already-clogged inbox and incite one to delete, delete, delete? Egotistically, of course, I’d love it if everyone would read and hang on to every word I write. Realistically, however, that ain’t never gonna happen and understandably so, because there is not a blog in the world that will appeal to everyone, most especially the type of which I write.

I speak to you from the heart because I know that beneath the skin, we are all one in spite of the appearance of our differences. And yet in spite of our many varieties, inside we are part of the same family, brothers and sisters living together in the vast universe that we call home. We need to take care of each other, and we need to take care of our home.

I guess that I just answered my own question. Yes, it’s worth the effort because you all are my family and I love you. I want the best for you. I want you to love yourself as much as I love you. Ah. There’s the altruistic part. That’s the part of myself that I love the most.

As you navigate your way through this strange and baffling time in which we live, I hope that you know that you are loved and supported by a myriad of people in the world who carry a torch to light your path and help you find your way through the dark to your true home.

Follow the light and it will lead you to boundless love and irrepressible joy.

Love and blessings to all!

Note: The beautiful image and meme above are courtesy of New Waves of Light (nwol.us).