I Want To Fly Away

I’m doing better than the last time. The last time I was broke, out of work and facing the abyss. The last time I was filled with angsty angst and crawling out of my skin. I had panic anxiety, shivers and shakes and more negative thoughts than a bird watching a cat slowly climb the tree. Neither of us think we’re getting out of this but the stupid bird can at least fly. My wings were clipped a while ago.

Truly, I have forgotten what it feels like to fly. I used to know and my memory of the memory is that it was spectacular. I was watching a YouTube video of Justin Timberlake with Jimmy Fallon doing some stupid rap thing and by the time they finished tears were rolling down my cheeks. ‘Cause here’s the thing, no matter what you think of JT, that boy knows how to fly. He intensely loves to do what he does. The joy radiating off those feet, that face, is palpable. And enviable. I once felt that way. I once, a long time ago, loved my life that much. 

Then I “got real” and started making all these grown-up choices, like getting a real job that paid enough to actually live. My parent’s vision of the world came true. It was either joy or food. Freedom or a roof. Self-love or love for others. No one taught me how to have it all. And now I want it. Desperately. Before I die sort of thing.

There’s a line in the movie Gravity (spoiler alert) where one of the characters muses that everyone will die but she is going to die that day. The amazement on her face at the knowledge that what, for most of us, seems a future event can become reality in an instant. Just one thing that goes awry. One car that leaps a barrier, a cell that mutates inside us, one moment of despair and it’s our time to go.

I’m not sure I’m up to it, ya know. Dying seems like an awfully big event to attend unprepared. What if I’m over-dressed? What if I under-achieved? What if I never really lived my life? I lived A life, sure but did I live MY life? 

And if the answer to that question is no, then when will I? Is it too late? Am I fucking delusional?

I’m bi-polar, we know that, but am I out of mind as well? Do other people feel this way –that their life was never intentional? 

I’ve been doing a lot of studying as I plan to open my life coaching practice. I have named my practice TruePath because that’s what I (hope) I’m finally on and what I want others to find. Who were we meant to be when we showed up? What was to be our special contribution to this life, this community, this planet?

Here’s what I’m thinking – hey, it’s my blog – I do believe we all came here with a passion and perhaps a purpose for that passion. The passion –and the innate skills we arrived with –were supposed to lead us. And some people were led. Like JT. Or Einstein or Oppenheimer. They are rooted in the joy of their particular ability to do a particular thing that gives them a sense of completeness. Of destiny.

Some of you know my sister, right? I always thought she was born too late, into the wrong century, because her skills and her passions are all about home-making. She has the ability to take a shitty little space and make it perfect. She can cook eight courses with her eyes closed. She can –and has –sewn gorgeous dresses, including a friend’s wedding gown that looked straight out of a magazine. For a while she found a place that used these skills. But it was a degrading sort of existence and not very feminist. Her skills were appreciated but they were also “bought”. Where does she fit in today’s world? We can’t all be Martha Stewart. Or JT for that matter. Is it just a sadistic twist of fate to have a passion and no way to use it?

I’d like to hear from you readers –really I would, it would help me out a lot on my journey here. What are your passions? What was/is your destiny? Could you die tomorrow? Today?

Maybe I should just start dancing and singing again. Maybe then my mind would shut the fuck up.

 I believe more will be revealed.

I believe I will blog about it.

‘Cause this feels like destiny to me.

Hell in the Hall

When God closes a door he always opens another, but sometimes it’s hell in the hall.

Have I talked about hall hell already? I don’t think I have but if so, I’m old and apparently we repeat ourselves. So give me some slack and a kind pat on the back and read on.

On one side is a glistening new future. Oooh, I can see it. Almost. It’s everything I want. Helping others. Independence. Money. Travel. It looks so nice. 

On the other side is my abusive boss and my call center job.  I get a paycheck every week and all I have to do is put up with degrading bullshit. 

What a dilemma, right?

You’re thinking it’s a no-brainer and you’re probably right. But as smart as I am about some things I am absolutely mentally challenged about others. Like believing in myself and my own dreams. Like believing in happy endings.

See, I don’t like endings. Any endings. I hold onto whatever piece of shit (pick one or all) job, husband, friend, that is already in this bird’s hand. I am a flaming liberal everywhere else but I am a die-hard conservative when it comes to holding onto crap I don’t want or like anymore.

One of the great little pieces of Al-Anon wisdom I love is, that if you have a glass of some old flat soda and you want some new, sparkling refreshment, you must first pour out the old. Yes, the glass will be empty for a moment and yes this can cause a woman with crazy brain to have multiple panic attacks, but nature hates a vacuum and soon the glass will be filled with the new.

Years ago I read a little book called Adult Children of Alcoholics. It was the first psychology book I had ever read that made sense of me and my insane personality. Remember I have a BA in psychology so I’ve read a LOT of psych books but this one resonated in a way that made me weep.

It talked about 13 traits ACOA’s have. The first was that we guess at what “normal” is. Growing up watching My Three Sons, Leave It To Beaver and Father Knows Best and then living through my own American Horror Story I sorta guessed there must be a middle ground. Didn’t know what that was. Still not sure, but today, I have a better guess. I don’t think it’s a normal tradition for Thanksgiving to include the annual “throwing of the turkey” or “slamming of the doors”. It’s not, is it? 

Another of the ACOA traits is that we are loyal where loyalty is no longer appropriate. In other words, we are kicked dogs who think their master is just in a bad mood today. Excuses, excuses, excuses. I got ‘em all. I’ve got me a black belt in rationalization. And a P.h.D in taking crap.

What I’m trying to tell you all is that I’m sad to be leaving my call center job. I know it makes no sense. Craigslist is FULL of crappy call center jobs. It doesn’t matter, this one was mine.  I like the people I work with, save one huge exception, and the work is easy and I’m good at it. So, why am I having to leave? Who told me to stand up for my principles? I’m gonna kill that guy.

Leaving is also bringing up some of my betrayal issues. Probably a titsch of abandonment as the cherry on my crazy sundae.

I am sad, profoundly so, that they didn’t want me enough to fix the issue. They chose the abusive asshole over me. This has happened to me before. Like, a LOT. And I know I’ve talked about how important it is to me to be ‘chosen’ before.  What if no one ever chooses me again? What if no one wants life coaching from someone like me? What if, what if, what if. We call this future tripping and it’s the only trip I have enough money to take right now. 

So, I’m in Hall Hell right now. Trying to be patient without becoming a patient. Living on friend’s good wishes and peanut butter. 

Waiting for the new door.

I Ego, Therefore I Am

I went out for a lovely dinner last night.  It was lovely for many reasons; the food was good, we sat outside on a clear summer evening and my friend was paying. Now anyone with any sense of propriety knows you don’t argue with the person paying the bill. This is standard etiquette, right? But having grown up in a barn, fallen off a turnip truck and been absent when God handed out sense (all things I have been accused of over the years) I proceeded to take my patron for a jolly ride into Nancyland.

She’d been sharing her love for The Law of Attraction and telling me about how she prayed every day to have calm clients and a wonderful, peaceful day. My inner-contrarian wanted to shout “but that’s all bull-shit” in that tactful and sensitive way I have about me.  Instead I asked if it had worked, had all her client’s been calm that day? What about the next day? ‘Cause if all I had to do was pray to get what I want, if it actually works, then whoo-hoo, I’ll be rolling in millions and having sex with Ewan McGregor tonight!

Wouldn’t we all love to have the magic formula for controlling our outcomes? Wouldn’t it be great if we got exactly what we asked for? Uh, no. My two year old longed to play in the street. He thought it was absolutely the Best place for him. Did I listen to his pleas and prayers? Uh, No. The streets are a dangerous place to play in and so is life.

I believe that in the cosmic scheme of things I am two years old. I long to play in the street, have my cake and eat it too and have sex with Ewan McGregor (I am a sexually precocious two-year-old.) Luckily, I have a Higher Parent who says no (let’s call her Mimi) and if I am smart I listen to Mimi. If not –giant trucks roll over my life.

But Nancy, you say, you’re a 12 stepper, doesn’t your 11^th step tell you to pray and meditate to a higher power? Why yes it does, you clever person you. But finish the step –it tells me to “pray for knowledge of Mimi’s will for me and the power to carry that out.” (Not all the signs say Mimi, but you get the drift.)

My job is to put aside my Ego, my “want-a-nator” and ask what Mimi wants for me and power to do that shit. But, you ask again because you weren’t born yesterday, on a turnip truck or in a barn and so have the natural skepticism of the discerning mature adult, what if Mimi wants you to do something you find boring? That would be a problem, I agree. 

But Mimi wants what’s BEST for me, not what’s easy. I trust Mimi and not out of “faith” but because of the cold, hard facts. The life my ego chose for me was not so good. My ego still wants to lead me a merry dance and it never ends well. When I listen to Mimi I cruise the Wu Wei with Pooh on my way to happiness. (For those not getting the last reference please read “The Tao of Pooh” it will clear a lot of things up.)

In Taoisn the Wu Wei means “without doing, causing or making”. It means, to me, flowing With the river instead of Pushing the river. I have a black belt in river pushing, making things go MY WAY!! I want it so I will MAKE it happen.  And though as a member of the human race it is very difficult to admit this, I am usually wrong. Not that I didn’t learn something from my three failed marriages, my bankruptcy’s, losing my house, my car and my shit (literal and figurative). I did learn valuable lessons. The biggest one; don’t listen to Nancy, she doesn’t know what she’s doing.

 Does it mean I no longer make ego mistakes? Au contraire mon ami, it just means I recognize it a little earlier than I used to. It now takes 4 days to recognize my ego at play rather than 4 years. In other words, I no longer marry the mistake.

Recent example; the web series. I pushed that river right around the bend. Did it work? Nope. Not even close. I’ve been down about it, can’t lie, but then I realized I didn’t really like shooting film stuff. I love the thrill of an audience. I want to make people laugh, cry, think and be there while they do it. So why did I push so hard to make the web series happen? Ego. Pure and simple. I thought more people would see it, I would be discovered, ink a 3 picture development deal, move to LA and have sex with Ewan McGregor. 

In other words, I had no Good reason to do it. I didn’t like filming it. I didn’t like writing it in choppy segments. It wasn’t giving me joy.

That’s how I can tell if my Ego is running things or if Mimi is. Mimi is a lot of fun. She gives me joy and passion. My Ego gives me hurt feelings, massive fuck-ups and bruised –well –egos. When I’m cruising the Wu Wei things fall into place. It’s like magic and we all love magic, right?

Recent example; I’ve been thinking, seriously, about becoming a Life Coach so I started asking Mimi for some sign about what was next for me. I’m pretty demanding of Mimi but she doesn’t seem to care, she indulges my little whims, my need to have proof of her existence.  So I do my 11^th step prayer work, ask for knowledge and let it go.

So I’m looking for some sign about the coaching thing but instead on Sunday, one of the guys I work with tells me he wants to stake me in putting together a dinner theater here in Wilsonville. He wants to know if $20,000 would be enough. He’s serious. Now Mimi (and Boyce) could just be yanking my chain but hey, if that ain’t a sign, I don’t know what is. And as I told my friend last night I could not have planned to start a theater company this way. Can you imagine if I had told any of you that my plan was to start a theater company but working at a Toyota dealership where I would meet a guy who loved the theater and wanted to give me money. You would have rolled your eyes. Am I right? I’m right. I would too.

So he wants to do something for Christmas. Anybody got some good ideas? Bonus points if it includes me having sex with Ewan McGregor.