girl gone wild

spring has really sprung and there is mischief in the air! my clients are all talking about misbehaving and naughty cravings...what can i tell them? it is the natural rhythm of the season...after being tucked away all winter, we want sunshine and light and often that dissolves into starry nights lit up with vice.

be safe and be wise...enjoy the pleasures of the season...

life lesson

accusations are often thinly veiled confessions...

have you ever been in that situation? starting out evenly matched in a discussion and then suddenly you are on the defensive, cornered and confused because a weighty accusation has been leveled at you seemingly out of nowhere.

   are you cheating? why would you say that? liar!

   do you want to break up with me? i didn’t even intimate it! jesus- you’re breaking up with me!

   don’t you love me anymore? of course i love you; why would you  even ask that? you don’t love me anymore!

i bet you know the feeling…  you are having a normal conversation and things begin to feel not normal and then the next thing you know you are arguing and defending something totally preposterous. instead of lightly rehashing the party you just came home from, you are twilight deep into an all-nighter-woody-allen-style relationship analysis.

what the what? how did this happen?

ask a simple question and get an accusation? well, congratulations. you have probably just gotten an answer to a question you weren’t even sure you were asking.

when someone accuses us of something that is just not in the usual realm of possibilities, you can bet you just heard a confession...

“everyone behaves badly--given the chance.” 

                                                                                -ernest hemingway, the sun also rises

riding the waves

a few years ago i was vacationing in the outer banks in north carolina (i love it there by the way…) and as is not terribly uncommon, a hurricane began to brew out at sea. at first it made for great surfing and wave riding but then things got a little rougher. the day before they evacuated the area, my boyfriend and i scoffed at their warnings and went out in the water.

it was so much fun! the waves were high and we floated up and down riding them further and further out. soon we knew it was wiser to return to the shore…things were getting rough. but when i tried to swim back in, i kept getting pulled out. i couldn’t make any progress…i was stuck. my boyfriend told me to dive through the waves and let them pull me in and so when the crest was behind me, under i dove. i expected to come out a little closer to shore, instead the undertow yanked me down with force and suddenly i was being tossed and thrown below. i couldn’t see and i couldn’t get up for air. i was scared and flailing around under water. i wasn’t strong enough for the undertow that the storm created. and so…  i let go…

i continued to toss under the waves, but before i knew it i was thrown onto the beach. Thrown. my bikini bottoms were no longer on my bottom and i was splayed out like a dead pelican, but i could breathe. my boyfriend gaped at me wide eyed while i was flattened and spit out like sea weed…then we just started laughing. i pulled up my shorts while choking on salt water and we stared out at the rising tide as i caught my breath…that was all the swimming we did that day.

sometimes surrender doesn’t mean giving up. sometimes surrender can just mean acceptance. we can spend a lot of energy fighting what we can’t control and we can’t conquer. not every battle is meant to be fought. resisting doesn’t change events or circumstances; it just fuels frustration and resentment. surrendering or accepting doesn’t mean losing or taking abuse, it just means being honest about what is and isn’t in our control and making the best of it. working with the tide instead of swimming against it brings us back to safety and under our own influence and rule.

lip smacker

my mother did not wear makeup when i was growing up. although the mid-seventies, for some, were equated with glamourous high gloss lips, contoured blush and aqua net…my sensible swedish mother eschewed the artifice in favor of a more natural, earthy sensibility. one that also rejected synthetic fabrics and orange drinks made popular by astronauts.

both my grandmothers wore makeup. differently from each other, to be sure, but that is how I understood makeup; it was the markings of an individual. a way to enhance or create your idea of self; whether it be a signature or a mood, it was part of a work in progress.

i loved everything about makeup. the packaging, the colors, the smells and textures of powders and creams. i was dying for the day i could wear makeup. like so many girls before me, my early days wearing makeup were garish and exaggerated. i wore my mask of adulthood thickly and aggressively. blue and gold on my lids, glittering at 7am in homeroom, i forced my blinks to stay closed a second too long lest someone miss the masterpiece slathered on my lids.

i loved colors then, and really still love them now. i remember when i first read a blurb in a vogue essay deriding “midwestern blue shadowed lids”, i stopped confused…wait…is blue eye shadow bad? is midwestern (as i am) also seen as a detractor? how was i to know that?

i am still quite loyal to my blue lids. my green, purple and gold lids too, depending on my mood, my outfit, the season, my tan etc. i have never paid heed to make up trends or fashion. i just like to paint and painting requires color.

we always see these vivid colors in editorial. why is everyone so afraid to use them in life? if they brighten the pages of a magazine, wouldn’t they have the same effect in our real life?

i live in a quiet and rather dull mid atlantic city known for its fashion conservatism. i recently cut my long blonde hair in the fashion of jean seberg and instantly rendered myself simultaneously disturbing and invisible and yet obtrusive all at once. i love it. it draws attention to my robin egg blue eye lids all the better.

*photo credit linde evangelista, via weheartit.com

hey mr. dj...

we all have a life soundtrack. not just our Spotify account or our Pandora stream, but a real soundtrack. think about a time and place in your life and i am sure you know exactly what you were listening to at that moment.

in high school and college, each heartbreak i suffered was accompanied by weeks of the Supremes, then tossing in some Ronettes as the pain subsided and then getting back to whatever dance track (“Crucified”, anyone?) was hot hot hot then. the one exception being my very first heartache, when i spent a long weekend alternating between watching "A Room With a View” and blasting Puccini’s "La Bohème" on my vacationing parents' stereo. my poor little brother had a kegger in mind, but my despair destroyed any chance of that…he fled to a friend’s house to leave me wallow in my adolescent agony.

i have spent hours exhausting anguish to the thrash of Minneapolis’ holy trinity of Husker Dü, the Replacements and Soul Asylum. in college i would get dressed to go out jamming to the Clash’s “Train in Vain”; later replaced by Britney and other mindless pop that i came to love as i grew out of my indie obsessed youth and just wanted to feel good. Jay-Z’s “Give It To Me” will still get me moving no matter where i am…cleaning the house falls to Motown and vintage Little Stevie Wonder...and the time i fell in love the hardest my sister threatened to smash my cd single of Madonna’s “Don’t Tell Me” remixes…i had a song for every single moment and i played the hell out them.

this is the first time i am unsure what i want to hear. obviously, when i am walking the streets or getting ready to go out, Robyn and Rebecca Fiona are what i am rocking on my iPod…but i spend most of my time engaged in other things. my life is in an uncomfortable place, my emotions are strange and unfamiliar to me…i have never been here before and i don’t know what the defining song is.

as a therapist/trainer, i spend much of my time listening to others. when i am alone, i often crave silence most, but sometimes that is just creepy. classical music fills that void. it soothes me and often moves me. it encourages held back tears to fall and can make me skip with joy. this is a thorny time in my life and my moods are unsteady…some days i just cannot bear words but i need something in the air around me.  

chains that bind

admit it, we’ve all played this game…

it stars out harmlessly with someone unsuitable/inappropriate/or similar expressing admiration/affection/desire/ or similar and we’re naturally flattered.

it feels good and it appears safe to accept. and what is there to fear anyway? there is, of course, no chance of anything real developing with someone so clearly unsuitable/inappropriate/ or similar.

but our acquiescence is a powerful message however passive it may be; we accept and this excites and encourages our suitor. upping the ante is the response and maybe we continue to accept. we laugh at it but still it is titillating, enjoyable, ego-boosting and still safe…so we engage in “harmless” flirting.

but there is a pit in our stomach, a drop in our heart… we are playing…

now we are jerking the chain…and let’s face it, in the games of love and sex, jerking someone’s chain can be fun…

the ante continues to rise and we stay in the game but you can only play for so long until you wake up one morning underneath this totally unsuitable/inappropriate person attached to the chain.

you knew better but what could you do? this poor s.o.b just liked you so much, wanted you so badly and hell, was even very funny…now you feel guilty, so maybe you continue so you don’t hurt their feelings.

you remember why you felt your stomach sinking at the start because now you are chained to the jerk whose chain you were jerking!

the upper hand is all about perspective. sometimes we lose strength by flexing certain muscles.

this is the very real risk of jerking the chain…

*photo still from belle du jour, luis buñuel

et tu, brutus?

they smile in your face, but all the while they want to take your place, the back stabbers...
                                                    the o'jays

some of the ties that bind us to our friends are our shared secrets and insider jokes; episodes or incidents that we have experienced with each other. knowing we have these in common makes us feel close and give us a sense of belonging.

sometimes when someone feels lonely, they may believe they are alone. this feeling of isolation can incite insecurity. often when we feel insecure, we are desperate to claw our way back to feeling welcome and loved. what better way than to share a secret...reveal something juicy...encourage interest and maybe even admiration from those around us. a tidbit of gossip sometimes seems like an easy ticket to the party.

the problem is that gossip is a cheap way to gain entré and more often than not it is an illusory one. friends bound by gossip and malice are not genuine or true. tables turn and power changes hands. don't be surprised if the knife in your back once belonged to you...

***photo credit: george cukor, the women

e=mc2

sometimes time moves so slowly and we ache to get on with it. sometimes time moves so quickly, we are left stunned to catch our breath and absorb what just happened. time is relative.

when we want something, time can be painful. we can be anxious, angry or full of fear while we wait for something we want to come to us. crossing out days on a calendar, tapping our feet with frustration, snapping our fingers to get someone's attention. trying to control what cannot be controlled.

when we are patient, we can see the horizon. we notice what is unfolding around us and we can be prepared.
everything comes in its own time. sometimes we are ready, sometimes we are surprised. either way, it is happening...now.

there is no reality in tomorrow or even yesterday. they are as a dream...hopes or regrets...sweet memories or anxieties...they are unreal. real is now. right where you are...what are you doing with it?

***matisse, the acrobats

equality

fem·i·nism   

/ˈfɛməˌnɪzəm/ noun 

the doctrine advocating social, political, and all other rights of women equal to those of men.

 internationella kvinnodagen

supersisters

with respect to march being women’s history month i want to start a new post thread honoring a woman worth notice and admiration.

when i was little and just starting to read, my mother enthusiastically encouraged and supported me and she worked especially hard to introduce important women in my reading selections. by the time i was ready to start school, i had already ripped through all the books our public library held devoted to the toddler women’s studies offerings of of hellen keller, amelia earheart and my personal favorite nellie bly.

as years passed and i was left to re-read the same biographies over and over my mother’s frustration grew. she made sure i read "stories for free children" from her Ms. magazine every month, i already memorized "free to be…" where were are all the books about women?

and then she gave me supersister trading cards. from then on i drew from the pack and tracked down as much as i could about each amazing and accomplished woman. my own women’s studies 101 before i even finished montessori!

this week, i want to celebrate the first woman to really inspire my ardent attention and obsession…the amazing nellie bly…

learn a little about Nellie here

what i loved most were the chapters in her biographies when she went undercover in bellevue. i think she may have inspired my career in psychotherapy. an exciting pioneer, she meant the world to me as a little girl and her bravery and achievement deserves more attention that it receives.

*photo from nellieblyonline.com

mind your manners

i am always saying "glad to've met you" to someone i am not at all glad i met. 

if you want to stay alive, you have to say that stuff, though.

-jd salinger's holden caulfield,catcher in the rye

*photo breakfast at tiffany's

along the lines of courage

courage doesn't always roar.
 

sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying,  

"I will try again tomorrow."

                                             -mary anne radmacher

* painting more edvard munch

braving the blues

not every day is a good one. 

sometimes we just want to hide away, shirk responsibilities, stay in our pyjamas and lie around and wallow in our sorrows. sometimes as bad as this feels, it feels good to allow yourself to feel awful.

strength is not just about soldiering on in the face of adversity. there is courage in displaying your vulnerabilities. if you are feeling scared or blue or just floundering, it is okay to let people see that part of you. 

we are not judged by our loved ones in a single moment but rather in all our moments, good and bad, soft and hard, pretty and ugly. we are the sum of all these equal parts.

sometimes outside the sun is shining and the sky is clear blue, but inside us there is a tempest brewing…it may even feel like we are stuck under an umbrella of grey rain clouds that follows us around our day. courage is believing that even our storm will pass and we can and will get through this darkness and be all the happier for what lies ahead.

 

that is what I am telling myself today anyway...

*painting edvard munch girls on a bridge

social grace

 weirdos

sometimes we encounter awkward or gawky people. sometimes their manner makes us uncomfortable in return.

unless this person is some creepy guy relentlessly hitting on you in a bar, give them a break. 

instead of cutting them off and drifting away to other clusters in the party, why not introduce them into the fold?  problem solved. offer them entré into a group, make them feel at ease and fully a part of the action and relieve yourself of the burden of carrying the conversation.

people often treat others the way they have been treated themselves. set a good example. maybe if you treat an unusual person like a usual person they will react in kind.

maybe not, but at least you are not aping the weirdo…

xoxo

a kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.

-ingrid bergman