Inner Dialogue

The last few weeks, I couldn’t help but hear my inner dialogue screaming negativity. So much about my inability to find work, encounter a romantic partner, live in a comfortable environment, etc.   Fate brought me in contact with Louise Hay’s You Can Heal Your Life.  This book has been life-changing.  The main philosophy in this writing is re-imprinting the brain so that it thinks positively about self and self’s reflections (friends, family, employers, co-workers, neighbors, community, etc).

Re-imprinting the brain can be fun.   Throughout the day, I’ll sing songs such as “I accept myself” or “I am sexy”.   Overtime, though, a wall might be hit.   Your emotional center, otherwise known as the Will, might say, “This positive affirmation is total bullshit right now.”   What a perfect time to actually start screaming and beating pillows.  By doing so, space opens up.   Each scream and each lashing of the pillow, you are moving through the energy of “this positive affirmation is bullshit.”   This might be a judgment but we all wish to approve of ourselves.  We all wish to be sexy.  Okay maybe we don’t all wish to porn stars or supermodels but sexy, yes.  Sexy to our partners.  Sexy to ourselves as we look in the mirror.

My suggestions to all who care about healing:

1.  Pick up a copy of You Can Heal Your Life.

2.  Come to understand your limiting beliefs such as “I am not sexy” or “I need the approval of others to get by in life”.

3.  Change it to a positive affirmation.

4.  Say it over and over again.

5.  Should your emotional center say this is bullshit, get to a safe spot, beat a pillow, scream till tears come streaming down your cheeks.

6.  Say the positive affirmation again.   It should feel more true.  If not, repeat screaming and beating of pillows.

How I strongly wish healing for this planet and everyone on it.  Thank you and love to you all for reading this.


Things haven’t exactly been easy lately.   Yesterday was the end of the world, apparently.   What the shit was that?   Talk about tone setting, my God!  Imagine this, you wake up, stretch, do your morning prayer, head down to the kitchen, pour yourself some orange juice, pop on NPR only to hear, “…the world will end on December 21st, 2012.”   Excuse me?    End?   Really?

I don’t care what belief system one has, this end of the world crap had to have affected everyone in some form another.  Looking back, I was a lunatic.  Read the posts from the last few days.   Bitching and moaning.   Deleting them crossed my mind.   My greater self vetoed that idea.    The whole purpose behind this blog is to show my vulnerability.  It’s real.   It’s who I am.   I think of these posts as excerpts from some classical sonata, where all the emotions are represented in some form.

Speaking of classical music, here is the next segment of the screenplay–

               EXT. RURAL ROAD - DAWN

               In exercise clothes, Damian leaps over the cracked pavement. 
               Continues his morning run.   He stops suddenly.

               In the distance, a hunched over silhouetted figure canes its
               way through the broken road.  It's Bella.


               Bella squints, clearly confused by the distant voice.


               Damian makes his way over to Bella.

                         Mrs. Argrove, what brings you here?

                         Bird watching.   There was this
                         most unusual bird. 
                         Looked like a flamingo but it was
                         turquoise.  So darn pretty.   Well,
                         a dog bark must have scared it. 
                         Flew over here.  I had to follow

                         Just you?

                         Just me?  Of course!  Who else? 
                         Thomas has been dead for twelve

               Bella retrieves a handkerchief from her pocket.   Blows her

                         Sorry, I didn't mean...

                         Got this damned cold.   I've been
                         meaning to tell you.  Be wary.

                         No need to worry.  My immune system
                         is as strong as an ox.

                         Phaw!  Not talking about your
                         immune system.  Talking about some
                         lady.   She came into the store.  I
                         sold her a red dress.

                         Mrs. Argrove, that's not a...

                         Red because of the devil.   That's
                         right.  She's got the devil in her. 
                         Been praying ever since I saw
                         what's in that behemoth's eyes.

               Clearly amused, Damian places his hand on Bella's hands.

                         Mrs. Argrove...

               Bella yanks her hand out from underneath Damian's.  She
               trembles.   Her dentures nearly falling out of her mouth.

                         She's found you!  I can feel her in
                         your essence.

                         You insist she's a woman.

                         Because she is.  A demon woman. 
                         Come with me.

               INT. STORE - MORNING

               Damian shifts about uncomfortably as Bella pulls out boxes of

                         Where is this?   I just saw this a
                         few days ago.

                         What are you looking for?

                         It's this cassette.  You like

                         Yeah, I guess.

               Bella beams a grin.  Puts on the radio.  Mozart fills the

                         Oh, Bastien and Bastienne.  One of
                         my favorites.

                         Never heard it.

                         Well, you're hearing it now.  Ever
                         dance to opera?

                         I rarely dance.

               Bella holds out her hands.  Damian grabs them.  The two swing
               side to side.

                                   DAMIAN (CONT'D)
                         Mrs. Argrove, this is really

                         Isn't it?  Listen to that voice! 
                         How beautiful!

                         It's quite beautiful.  Listen,
                         Will's alone with that woman you
                         speak of.

               Bella gasps.  Breaks away from Damian.

                         Is he?  Well, we need to get you
                         home.  First...

               Bella turns back toward the boxes of cassettes.   Grunts as
               she pulls out a pile of them.  Shuffles through them.

                                   BELLA (CONT'D)
                         Ah, here it is.  Take this.

               Bella hands Damian the cassette.

                         What's this for?

A Peaceful Solution To Doomsday

According to the Mayans, there are only five days left before the world ends. The behaviors of the last couple of days lead me to believe that some are acting as if this prophecy’s written in stone (well, technically it was written in stone…you get the meaning).  I refer specifically to two horrific behaviors:  the Sandy Hook Elementary School massacre and the shooting at the Newport Beach mall.   As if the massacre wasn’t enough, a bomb threat against a Newtown Catholic Church surfaced yesterday afternoon.

Let’s just say the Mayans are correct.   Come with me on a hopefully fictional journey where what we know, our roads, our loved ones, our running sneakers, our childhood dog’s tombstone, our most hated buildings burn to total smithereens by some supernatural force Friday  mid-breakfast.   The days that precede this so-called obliteration of what is, could go in many directions.    It could be business as usual.   Head to the office, drop your kids off at soccer practice, bake those delicious sugar cookies, attend your reading clubs.   It could be filled with the continuance of utter hate and rage.   More gun violence.  Bombs explode at every street corner.   Mothers are raped.  Fathers are murdered.   Children are kidnapped and tortured.  Mass suicides.

I propose a totally different response.   Bury your guns.   Snip the wires to your homemade bombs.   Lock your cutlery drawer.   Most importantly, go inward.  That’s right, GO INWARD.  Go beyond meditation.  Reflect on the person you are/wish to be.    Feel that heartbreak that you continue to deny.  Instead of acting out against the person who broke your heart, cry your eyes out.   Punch a pillow. Jump up and down till you feel lighter.  Feel…

Should all this sound fluffy to you, talk to someone.  You have nobody in your life, call a helpline.   There are people out there that do wish to help.

Below is a fragment of how I dealt with my terror yesterday.   It’s a video I wrote, directed and edited all in five hours.

P.S.  This video is satirical.  It’s my hope, should Congress vote against extended unemployment benefits, nobody kills themselves in response.