pissed off

Do Your Mood Swings Have a Message for You?

nong-tinh-gian-du

I’ve been noticing something interesting lately. I’ve been starting out my days on a high vibration, fiercely grateful, mindfully approaching every task with presence, joy… All ooey-gooey and overflowing with love. And I move through my day, completing tasks. Or not. Bouncing around from one priority to another. One diversion to another.

And then, at some point, BAM. I crash. I don’t just crash. I plummet. My mood shifts dramatically. I go from “joyous bearer of light” to “bitch on wheels”. Just like that. Or so it seems.

I look at my sweet Facebook posts from the morning and roll my eyes at myself. I think bad thoughts. I make careless mistakes. I’m stressed and tired and off-kilter.

All that overflowing, ooey-gooey love has coagulated and turned into something much less appetizing, viscous and dry. I am hard and closed and cranky. I dislike. I complain. I judge. I worry. I feel overwhelmed and feral. Not fit for human interaction.

What is this shift? Why does it happen? So suddenly it seems, yet maybe if I look closely, not so sudden at all.

For a while I thought it was a sugar crash. Or a hormonal imbalance. Or demon possession.  But today, I’m realizing it’s something way more subtle and insidious. And really, quite simple…

I haven’t checked in with myself.

All tangled up in the doing, going, creating, replying, forwarding, posting, planning, I’ve wandered away from myself.

It makes perfect sense. I start my day with ritual. I make my coffee. I light candles. I journal. I read. I pray. It’s no wonder I’m full of love and light!

And then, little by little, I disconnect from myself, from Source. I forget to check in. I ignore the desire to stretch. I hold my pee for ridiculous lengths of time.

I’ve decided here and now to take up a new daily practice. A simple practice called stopping. Remember lunch hours? I used to have them in corporate America. I kinda miss those.

I will check in. Ask myself what I want, feel and need. I will tune in, jump off the grid for a few minutes. Refuel.  Start my midday the way I start my morning. Wow. What a concept. And why not?  I heard a woman say to another woman who was complaining about her back-breaking busy schedule… “Wow… Who on earth is responsible for treating you that way? Who’s the tyrant that manages your schedule?” Yes, it was sarcastic. In a loving sort of way.

“You get out of balance because you aren’t listening to your inner life, because you aren’t meeting your challenges of your life with any input from the inside. you haven’t given yourself enough time
to know what you think or feel.”

– Jennifer Louden, “Comfort Secrets for Busy Women”

I’m ready to try something new. To restore my balance midday in order to experience more joy.  And this epiphany I am gifted with when I stop to check in with myself.

What shifts or changes are you ready to make? What truth is waiting for you, if you simply check in with yourself?

What if during your next mood swing, you took it as a message from your soul to check in with yourself, to step aside, stop, recalibrate, reset, turn inward?

I’m off to restore and renew now… See you on the other side of my day. Most likely, in a much better mood.

 

 

The Opposite of Funny: Enough with the Body-Shaming “Jokes”

7c9187e61f2c00fd5c3778b79949e139I’m fed up this morning and I’ll tell you why.

I have cringed over many a meme that shames a woman for her fat that is exposed. A woman who is oversized by our culture’s standards has no business showing off her body, as we know. If she does, she shall be subject to our modern day hounds of hell in the form of cruel viral memes, vicious comments and ugly body-shaming messages. Perhaps even thousands of them. Hundreds of thousands.

It’s not just women who fall victim to public ridicule. Men are often the subject of these “humorous” pictures that circulate the internet and show up on my Facebook newsfeed. Pictures of women, men, with their butt cracks, or bellies exposed, most certainly unaware that photos are being taken of them and shared on the internet.

Imagine finding that a picture of you, that you didn’t even know was being taken, had gone viral and someone had made memes making fun of you and the social media world was making fun of your body or the way you dressed or the way you looked.

Can you imagine how painful that would be?

We seem to forget one important fact.

These are PEOPLE we are making fun of. There is a person whose image that belongs to, who lives with her self, her body, her curves, her “unacceptable” shape every single day. She has a soul. She has a heart. Feelings, emotions, the ability to hurt, to cry. Just like you.

Turning someone’s body into a JOKE? That is not funny. That’s the opposite of funny.

Can’t we all just wear want we want and be who we are without the wrath of a million judges laughing and making fun of us?

It’s like a giant schoolyard bully session. Having been made fun of most of my childhood, and the ‘star attraction’ of plenty of schoolyard bullying-sessions, I know it hurts. We are grown now. Shouldn’t we be evolved, compassionate adults by now? Why are we still acting like schoolyard bullies?

Let’s stop perpetuating cruelty. What do you say?

When I was a kid, being made fun of or picked on, once in a while a loving, aware grown-up would intervene on my behalf. She would step in and stop the bullying, stand up for me, protect me, and get me out of an awful situation. She would shut it down.

Now we have grown up and become a giant schoolyard of grown-up bullies. Where’s the loving aware grown-ups to step in and intervene? Who’s going to shut it down?

Let’s do it.

Will you perpetuate meanness by sharing body-shaming memes or even “liking” them? Or will you join me to intervene on behalf of the people whose images are being riduculed.

It’s time for the loving, aware grown-ups to step in and intervene.

I’m tired of being quiet about it so as not to offend, as I continue to be offended.

I’m tired of my own complacency.

I fight the fight every day to love and accept myself, and have built my life around helping others love and accept themselves. Yet, we still struggle. And it’s no surprise. A social current that ridicules, degrades and shames in the name of humor is hard to swim against. But we can do it, if we swim together.

I dare you to stand up for the anonymous victim of the next body-shaming meme you see.

I dare you to delete people from your friends list who perpetuate this type of riducle.

I dare you to voice your offense when offended, instead of staying quiet, as to not offend.

I dare you to take a stand against this bullshit.

Excuse my French, but I’m fed up. Our schoolyard bully days are over. It’s time to evolve, to grow up. Enough, already.

 

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Originally published July, 2014

A Football Season Rant: Pissed about the P-word

Does that look like weakness to you?

It’s football season again. Ahhh… my favorite time of year. Just kidding.  I know some of you love football, and I love you anyway. Do you love me anyway, even knowing that I can’t stand it?  Or that hearing the sounds of a football game on TV is an instant trigger for a mandatory nap? Or that I’d rather go to the dentist than watch a game?

Sometimes I loosely wish I DID like it. I’d be able to participate in more conversations, and anyone who knows me knows I love conversations. I’d be able to share an interest with my fiance’ Matt, and they say that shared interests are a good thing for couples to have… but mostly I just hate it. This year, Matt is playing fantasy football for the first time, so it’s time for me to develop a new hobby. I’m thinking of taking up weekly spa pedicures. Can those be considered a hobby?

But this blog is not about football. It’s about something that’s always around, but really gets fired up during football season, so it’s been “in my face” a bit more since the season started last week. Insulting the other team, or certain ineffective players is part of all the fun, or so I gather.  Now with social media and do-it-yourself memes, everyone’s a comedian, and the insults are aplenty. Whatever, have your fun, guys, but listen…

Can we stop using the word “pussy” as an insult? As the worst thing you can call a guy? Or joking that a guy has a pussy where his balls should be?

I saw a meme the other day that had a football player on the ground, his pants torn in the crotch and someone had photoshopped a vagina where his penis would be.

I’ve seen lots of other memes and posts and comments using the word pussy to cut down the other guys, using “pussy” as a symbol of weakness, of impotence or disgrace.

It pisses me off!

If anyone needs me to help clarify, the pussy is not a symbol of weakness. It is a symbol of power, of life, of creation, of strength.

I assure you, there is nothing weak about my pussy.

I’m saying out loud what I’ve been thinking on the inside for many, many years. And I will continue to say it out loud. I’m not allowing it– in my conversations or in my feed.

It is not okay to refer to my parts as an insult.

As long as we keep perpetuating this stupid joke, will it be any coincidence that our daughters will grow up feeling less than? That women are still paid 78 cents on the dollar for the same work their male counterparts do?  Calling a guy a pussy is not the cause of sexism. But it certainly isn’t helping.

Can we just stop with this nonsense?

Our language is vast and there are thousands of less insidiously-damaging, yet still fantastically insulting words we can use instead…

coward
crybaby
caitiff
chicken
daisy
jellyfish
loser
milksop
pansy
yellow belly
chicken liver
cream puff
lily liver (my favorite, perhaps)

Get creative guys, use your heads!

Imagine (not that we ever will, but it’s fun to imagine…) if we used “pussy” as a symbol for what it really represents…

Wow, great art piece you created, what a pussy!

You are so powerful, you pussy!

He’s such a pussy, isn’t he? So strong and resilient and good-looking, too…

Now that I think about it, though, I DO use the word “dick” to describe a real jerk… maybe it’s time to stop that, too.

What if we stopped using our sex parts as symbols of degrading insults, all together? After all, our sex parts are pretty damned awesome and powerful and beautiful!

End rant.

You may safely resume your football season. But leave my pussy out of it.