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Hi- What this Blog is About

Welcome to my blog. Thank you for reading.

I’m sure that many of you are asking the same questions that I have asked at times, ” Who are you and why should I read your blog???”

I’m just a woman trying to learn how to live the life of my dreams, and I’m aware that after reading my writings you might think I’m arrogant, or silly, or just downright stupid. For a long time, the thought of not being accepted has stopped me from doing the one thing that I love to do most: write.

You know what I realized, though? One day I’m going to die. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe ninety years from now. And nothing anyone thought about anything I did will matter. What will matter is whether I lived my life doing what I thought was best.

So I think it’s best that I write this blog…

Where This Comes From

In about January 2010, after yet another break-up with a man I thought I was going to marry,  I had a major breakdown. Nothing in my life made sense any more. I didn’t know what to do or where to go for help. I was crying every day. Over something. Over nothing… I felt like I was just floating in the middle of a vast ocean.

I really don’t know how I made it through that time, but about a year later,  in January 2011, I realized that I had made it through the hardest year of my life without dying and so I decided that it might be worth the effort to learn how not to cry every day, since I was gonna be here for a while.

I told a good friend of mine that I was going to do a self-experiment with becoming un-depressed, and he suggested that I write about it while I’m going through it, noting that most people forget what it was like over here when they get to the other side of happy. Sounded good to me, so for a while I did that. I wrote my friend a journal-esque entry every day about my adventures in not crying. That worked out at first, but then it didn’t. So I stopped. In the meantime I learned some things…

We write in our journals and hide them in the deepest, darkest places, closets, drawers, even under our beds, pretending all the while that we don’t want anyone to read them, when truly it is the only thing we really want. For someone to care. For someone to clean out the drawers and find out who we really are…

Why This Comes

My hope for this blog is that it will help. Both you and I. I think the world will be a better place when people can be honest about who they are and get over this notion that we have to be ashamed of the struggles we have been through. We’ve all had issues and oftentimes, our struggles are the greatest catalysts for our forward transformations.

It makes me happy to share my life with others and feel connected to people, and, since I mostly eat dinner by myself these days, I hope that I can come home and tell you how I’m doing.  Your interest helps me to be accountable for continuing on an authentic path of integrity …


This blog started out with two categories, but has since evolved to many sections.  It starts with “How Not to Cry Every Day Then”, which are the original writings I sent to my friend when I embarked on this adventure in January 2011, and  “How Not to Cry Every Day and then Some”, which are written in real-time. It then continues on to “How to Live With Integrity” “How to Blossom” and on. The topics change as major shifts are made in my life and the current topic is “The Initiation”.

It is organized by days. Although the most current blog is on the top of the page, the story begins with Day 1, and I invite you to read whatever interests you. I started off writing an entry every day, but I have stopped crying every day a while ago, so now I just write when I am inspired, but they are still numbered by days. Every blog heading is titled with something I learned on that particular day, and they are in order from Day 1 until Day…

If you are interested in being updated on new posts, please subscribe.

There is a place in the in between. The space between a thought and an action. The space where you know that the thought you just thought will come to pass. Insha’ Allah this is going to be good…


Day 489 – Untitled

Almost three months later… I am still feeling sad. LOL. I just read my last blog entry, which I made almost three months ago. It has been a while. The sadness got worse, but has lifted a bit today… Don’t even know where to start with this post except to say that the winter has been cold and harsh.

I am tempted to lay over and go to sleep. Put the pillow in place, but I am forcing myself to sit up and write something and push “publish” before I go to sleep. It’s 2:21am. What have I been running from? Why have I written so many unfinished posts in the past few months but published none? There has been too much going on and I was sick of my sorry life. I went from sad to bad to worse.

And now, after getting assaulted by someone close to me down south, and then coming back to LA and getting verbally assaulted by a man who demanded that I slap my own face (I didn’t do it) before telling me what a piece of shit I am (in so many words), I am officially done with this part of my life. It has all gone too far. That’s all I have to say about that.

The bed beckons me again. I pulled my blanket out and almost leaned over, but didn’t. It means I’m trying to run from something painful. What is it, God? I am willing to face it. I am willing to face it. I am willing to face it. Please carry me through to the other side. I am willing to go through it.

My heart has been broken. It has been breaking for the past three months. I feel sorry for myself. I feel sorry for so many people like me. Us sensitive souls who are born into the most harsh of situations. It’s like it’s some kind of cruel joke. Take the most sensitive and kind of empaths and place them in a families of narcissistic, abusive, controlling, egomaniacs who don’t give a shit about them and see how they turn out. I am angry a bit, but not that much. I don’t understand it all. I don’t understand why my life has been so painful.

I don’t understand why someone assaulted me or why a man was sitting across from me yelling and trying every which way to break. me. down. Oh, there goes the bed again. Ooooh, wee. Is it because I’m a smart alec? I don’t say too much, but people always try to test me and I am good at knowing the words that cut. I always see people’s bullshit and lies miles away. Have a harder time seeing my own. It’s my gift and curse.

So, I think I’m trying to go to sleep and not write this blog entry because I have nothing profound to say. I have no answers to anything. A lot has happened since my last entry, but mostly it’s been me fighting people and people fighting me and me feeling like shit. Oh, I also wrote a new script with a writing partner and that process was fun and tormenting. Met men. Someone offered to pay me to be his girlfriend. He was gonna whisk me away and move me to the rich part of town, pay all our bills and buy all our food, and give me a hefty monthly allowance. I had to put in up to 14 hours a week doing housewife type stuff: cooking, cleaning, giving him a massage. Sounded like a grand plan. Except he wanted me to slap my own face. And when he did offensive stuff, he just wanted to not address it and say “It’s a new day. That’s the past.” And he wanted to tell me that I can’t sell my scripts to Hollywood. I think that’s what did it. I know. Him telling me to slap my own face wasn’t enough. Him lying about stuff and being mean as hell wasn’t enough. This bitch told me that I can’t sell my scripts to Hollywood and then started talking about odds and statistics. And when I think of it, on our first date, I remember when I told him I was a writer, he opened up his mouth and asked me how I made money. By writing, bitch!

Can you tell I’m a little upset? There’s a lot of curse words in this entry, and I haven’t even been around a lot of potty mouths lately. Please forgive me. I do believe I’m a little angry.

My mom just came out of the room to ask me if I stay up this late writing every night. Yeah, my mom is here. Don’t ask. It’s been a long winter…

The bed beckons. The demons grin. You will not win tonight. My energy is drained. Why is life so hard? Why are there demons and mothers and men and friends to fight? When will I be safe here? When does this all end? I long to relax. I long to be held. I long to feel safe here in this world. A friend tells me to imagine that the Dora Milaje, the women soldiers from the movie Black Panther, are surrounding me and walking with me wherever I go.

My dear God, you said I am your Beloved. The ones who were to protect me tried to hurt me, and I am so hurt, Allah. I am so disappointed. I am so heartbroken to know that it has always been this way. We have always been this small…

The bed is really calling me. I want to push delete on this whole entry because I think it’s dumb. I recognize that I have a lot of negative thoughts going through my head. I want to not publish this so folks don’t judge me. I want to not put negative thoughts out into the world. I realize that I’m probably tripping out right now and being a little extra. My mom didn’t go back to sleep. She’s up in the room making noise. I want a magical man who’s not abusive to whisk me away and take me into the experience of a new life…

I could go on and on whining and talking about all the horrible thoughts in my head. If I keep on long enough, I’m going to push delete and not publish this. What I wanted to do today is write because it has been a long time and I have not been sharing myself or keeping track of my thoughts, or really sorting out my thoughts that much. My hands are trembling and I feel like throwing up. I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me… Lawdamercy. My mom is calling me from the room. You gotta be kidding me. My mom just came back from a trip and is staying with me for a few days. She is sick with a cold. You gotta be kidding me, God.

Ok. I know there is some lesson to be learned from these past few months of shitterling happenings. I know there is a through line somewhere that I am missing. You know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna push publish on this blog, I’m gonna keep living, surrender to the moment at hand, be present, imagine good things, and intend to allow for the highest possible good of the collective in every action that I take. It is so much easier to do these things when I don’t feel like shit. I guess that the point. Good night, world.

Day 489

Day 488 – On Making Meaning (Living With Sadness)

Hey y’all. Your girl’s over here suffering. Don’t feel sorry for me. There are worse things happening in the world than a sad woman sitting in an apartment in LA.

My brain is on overload. Now I see why people drink and do drugs. I kind of want to stop thinking about things for a while and stop feeling the way I feel. I won’t, do drugs or go to my tried and true escape mechanisms, though (relationships and sleep). Instead, I will write a blog.

I want to share something. I was listening to a recording from one of my spiritual mentors today, and on it, she said that the reason so many of us are in so much pain is because we are not living the lives we are here to live. That resonated with me. It’s like there’s a little whisper in your heart somewhere telling you to do and be and say and experience and create a thing, but you are not doing it. You don’t know how to do it. And so you are in pain.

The catch 22 is, because you are in pain, you don’t do the thing that is whispering to you to be done. You find ways to ease or avoid your pain. You work very hard at trying to get rid of that gnawing in your belly and the tremors in your heart. And that becomes a life.

So, I’ve been feeling really sad this week. I’ve been feeling really sad for a little over a month, but most of the time, I’ve been engaged in battle with friends. Now, for the past five days, I’ve been here by myself processing everything. My first instinct was to run and find something to ease my pain. Make a new friend. Go to sleep. Go to one of the hundreds of social and film events that happen in LA every week. Work a job that I could care less about… I didn’t do all those things this time, though. This time, I just let myself feel as sad as I feel. And I haven’t felt this sad in a while. It’s been almost a year since I’ve felt this low…

My mind wants to grasp onto something stable, but there is nothing. I want to go back to the religion of my youth, where everything made sense. Read this book, do what it says, be good and you will get a reward of everlasting bliss when you die. It’s easy. I wish I believed it again. I pretty much live the same lifestyle of the people of my childhood religion, but not for the same reasons as them…

My mind has been looking for a way to get out of this feeling of sadness. My mind has been looking for a way to come back to the world of the alive people. I have been hearing lectures and having conversations with people about how to be happy. One spiritual path says seek and welcome the mothering aspect of God into my life. Surrender to her and she will fix everything… Maybe.

A question arises in my mind, though. Can I be sad? Can I just be sad until I’m not? Must I strive so much to feel a thing that I don’t feel right now? Why are we always running away from sadness? Surely sadness has a purpose, too. I don’t know it’s purpose, but I’m tired of running from it for now. If I am sad, it is because I am sad. There is pain in me needing to be released. Sadness is a messenger.

But what is the message?

We try so hard to make so much meaning out of everything. A friend says that the message is, I shouldn’t eat cake anymore. Another person says that the reason I am sad is because I don’t have many true friends. Someone else says it’s because I have too many friends and I need to learn to be alone. Another says I need to get married. Someone else says I need a hug. I need a child. I need a new religion. I need my old religion. There is too much sage in my house. There is not enough sage. They say I am sad because I need more money. I am sad because I have too much money and I’m idle because of it. I need to exercise more. I exercise too much. They say I am sad because I need to work on my passion. They say I am sad because I need to forget about passion and this foolish notion that we all have a passion and purpose. Follow the book. They say I am sad because I don’t follow the book. I need more sunlight, they say, or Vitamin D pills at least…

And what do I say? Why am I so sad? The reason is none of the above and all of the above. The reason I am so sad is because I haven’t been able to make meaning of it all. And the meanings that I used to make just aren’t resonating with me anymore. I am sad because the fairytale is over – my naive eyes have opened up, and I see the darkness in the world. I see the darkness within me. I am sad because I am grown up now, and I can’t pretend not to know what I know… I am sad because there is no one to reach out to – no one knows the answer. Most people are trying very hard just to survive. Just to survive. Just to eat and breathe and run away from sadness. I am sad because how is it that this is our world? My innocent eyes are opening up.

I am sad because I am losing my innocence and seeing things for what they are – the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, the indifferent. It took me long enough…

I am sad because I lost my best friend and, although I know he love me deeply and I love him deeply, I can’t figure out a way to be close to him without being hurt. I’m heartbroken about being betrayed by the one person whom I expected kindness from…

I’m sad because I changed. Somewhere along the way, I changed. I became someone who I don’t recognize. Not in a bad way. I don’t know if it’s a bad way or a good way, but it is what it is. I’m not interested in going back to the way I used to be, but I’m not quite sure who I’m becoming…

I don’t want to lie anymore. I don’t want to make believe. I don’t want to try and make sense of a thing just so it can make sense. I don’t want to say, “Oh. I’m learning all these lessons and growing and unfolding and the people around me are going to have to grow and unfold and I’m experiencing dissonance and that why I’m sad,” etc etc… or “I’m getting stronger so I can live out my destiny and do something magical and I’m going to need to know how to overcome sadness so I can help some sad person in the future, so that’s why I’m sad.” I don’t want to say those things, because maybe they are true and maybe they are not. Someone could just as easily say, “I’m sad because I forsook my childhood religion and now I’m being punished,” or “I’m sad because I’m letting go of friends who have been there for me in the past.” You understand?

I am feeling sad. That’s it. This is what I want to share for the day. I’m feeling sad. There’s no need to fix it. There’s no need to change it. It will change itself. There’s no need to make it mean so many things. It’s not as complicated as we make it. I interacted with certain people and I felt sad. I don’t know why. They betrayed me, but their betrayal was so small. It wasn’t enough to make a person cry for a month on end. But it triggered something in me that had already been so hurt for so long, something that is deeper than my understanding of it.

What is also true is that I want to be alive. I can be sad and also be alive. I don’t want to run from my feelings anymore, you understand? I have been running for such a long time. I want to face what’s in me and give it a chance to come out now. I want to give it a chance to heal now. I want to heal now. For real.

I’m writing this because I realize that I’ve had this notion in my head. I’ve had this notion that I have to be happy and feel all these good things in order to get off the bed, but it’s not true. I can cry and still write a script. I can cry and send out emails. I can cry and make money. I can even cry and be nice to people. I can cry and clean up my house and eat nourishing food. I can cry and go out and get sun for the day. I can cry and exercise. I can cry and be open to Love and be Loving to people. I can cry and be a part of the visible world… It doesn’t have to be one thing or the other…

I would like to believe that the sadness passes, but what if doesn’t? What if you can’t make meaning of it? What if there are too many things that it could mean? What do you do then? I say we still keep living. It might be hard. It might be heavy. Somewhere in your heart and mind there is something that you’ve been needing and wanting to do. Do it now. Don’t make it hard. Don’t make it heavy and burdensome. Don’t set a schedule that you know you won’t stick to it. Don’t force yourself to be all enthusiastic and gung-ho about it. You’re not enthused. You’re feeling sad and bummed out. It’s ok. You’re confused and you don’t know why this shit is happening to you. You don’t know what you did wrong. You don’t know what you did right. You don’t know how to fix anything. You don’t know what steps to take. It’s ok.

Know what you know. There are a few things that you know. They have nothing to do with what he said or she said or religion or guilt or love or hate or desperation or survival. They are things that you know you are supposed to do. Little things like making your bed up or maybe big things like ending or starting a relationship. You know because you know because you know that this is what you need to do now. You’ve known it for a while. Do it. Don’t make it mean anything. Just do it.

Love you,
xo Laydie

Day 488
On Making Meaning (Living With Sadness)

Day 487 – Breakups and Breakdowns

I just wrote a whole blog putting myself selfish friends on blast, and deleted it…

I’ve been trying to write a blog for some days now, and keep deleting stuff. I’ll post this one, no matter what comes out.

I’ve been heartbroken and sad, feeling betrayed by my closest friends, feeling alone, and feeling like people just keep me in their lives because they think they can get stuff from me. They don’t even understand the concept of just giving and just feeding another without an interest in gain.

I’ve been wondering if I want to keep so many asshole selfish people in my circle, and I’ve been conflicted. On the one hand, there have been times when these people have been there for me, and they would try to be there for me again if I really needed it. On the other hand, the emotional cost of relating to them is high. They will be selfish. They will try to use you. They will hurt you. They will compete with you. They will have a hard time really being happy for your success. They will not feel compelled to be there for you and support you unless you are really, really dying. And for reasons that they’re probably not even aware of, they won’t really be truly happy or truly comfortable around you. There will always be a slight guardedness.

I’m realizing how people in the world see me. They don’t see me like I see myself. They either think I’m super lucky and super smart and charmed and successful, or they think I’m a super loser and delusional. I don’t think I’m either.

I’m feeling angry and sad and lonely and betrayed by life right now. I want to run away somewhere, and at the same time I want to stay locked in my apartment where it is safe. I don’t like human beings right now, God. I am disappointed with them. I am disappointed with my life. I almost did it. I almost changed it all. But I fell short.

And here I am, here in my apartment crying again… Sigh… A part of me doesn’t want to try anymore. A part of me feels like people are shit. A part of me is getting eaten by the bitter bug. I’ve made it so long without getting bitter, but a part of me is giving up. A part of me wants to sell all of my stuff, let go of this apartment, don’t turn in any more scripts, go back to the city I grew up, become a part of the religion I grew up in again, and just marry someone and be safe. A part of me thinks that this belief that I have a purpose and the world needs me and I’m supposed to do all this work is just a crock of shit.

I am losing faith, Allah. I am losing hope. I have been hit in the heart a bit too hard this time, and I don’t know if I want to be a part of this world anymore. I’m not thinking of suicide or anything like that. I just don’t know if I want to hope anymore.

It sounds silly as I’m writing it, I know. But that’s how I feel. Sad. Afraid to be open anymore. Hurt. Disappointed. Stuck. Things will never be the same with my friends and I again. You know how you know that something major has changed, even though it seems minor? Like when you’re breaking up with someone. There’s usually a moment. An incident. It might be similar to moments or incidents that have happened before. It might not even be as intense as something that has happened before. But after it happens, things are never the same. Things are broken. You know your relationship will never be the same.

My friends are trying to be nice to me now. They will be assholes once I open up and let myself be vulnerable with them again. They’re just not really mature enough to value a thing and nurture it without the threat of loss. And I am too broken to play the push-pull game anymore. I don’t want to come around people that I have to guard myself around, and I don’t want to be around people who are going to hurt me once I’m vulnerable.. They have been constants in my life for years. There is no one else. Without them, I am alone. And without me, they are alone as well…

And I’m wondering if it’s better that way. So that we can grow. So that we can have faith again and meet people who we can trust; people who we can feel safe with. So we can be happy and not be consumed by the bitter bug. So we can forgive and move-on. So we can see where we went wrong and change… I wonder if it’s better to be alone than to be in relationships that are so full of shit… Some people say I cut people off too quick. Others say I keep assholes in my life for too long. I don’t think that I know when to cut people off and who to keep in my life and why. I’ve never been particularly intentional about creating relationships… I don’t know anything these days.

So, it’s 4:07am. I signed up to do some audience work today and I need to start getting dressed in the next 10 minutes if I’m actually going to go and be there on time… I’m debating about going to the bed and feeling sorry for myself all day or getting up and doing something with my life… I don’t even know what to pray for anymore, God. I just don’t want to feel this way anymore. I thought I had escaped all this sadness and pain. I thought I had overcome despair. But here I am, despairing. Here I am, without hope, and not even knowing if I should pray for hope anymore.

You say that the trickster has gotten into my brain, and I say that I am tired of fighting to keep him out. I can’t fight him on my own anymore… I don’t have the words anymore… I need help. Not humans. Not books. Not words. I need Your Help, Allah. I’m drowning. I had come so close to the shore and I don’t have any fight left in me. And I am drifting back into the middle of nowhere. Invisible world. Sad world. Bitter world. World of the living dead. I don’t want to go there. I still want to be alive. I want to be alive. I want to be alive… I’m gonna go get dressed.

Day 487
Break-ups and Breakdowns

Day 486 – Commitment (My New Best Friend)

Hey… So… Wow. I’m procrastinating y’all. I’m procrastinating because I just started taking a new course so that I could get some support creating focus and structure in my life, and I had to make a commitment the other day. Commitment is not one of my favorite words. In fact, it’s one of my least favorite words. But it gets better. Check out the commitment that the teacher challenged us to make. She challenged us to make a huge commitment that will transform our lives forever and cause us to live our destiny. This is the commitment I made:

“I am committing to myself that at the highest level possible, I am going to create the conditions in my life to give myself the opportunity to become all that I can be in my life. I commit to fully show up, go all the way, create a life that reflects my potentials, discover what is and isn’t possible for me, and realize my destiny. YES!”

Yep. Umhm. I said that. Now I’m dealing with it. There is no way that I can make that kind of commitment and stay the same. I imagine that all that I can be looks a whole lot different than who I’m being now. So there you have it. Now I’m gonna have to do stuff. I’m not sad. I signed up for this course (It’s called Feminine Power and it’s taught by Claire Zammit by the way). I had taken this course before, but I didn’t fully participate in it the first time I took it. I definitely didn’t make that kind of commitment the first time I took the course, and if I’ve being honest, I must say that I’ve never made a commitment to anyone on that level, especially not myself…

So, I’m procrastinating. Because I’m horrified about the changes that will occur when I walk out of the door today. My life is kind of magical. The time lapse between me setting an intention and it happening in my life is usually not that long. So here I am, afraid of the massive change that is about to take place and sitting in my house blogging, instead of connecting with all of the people that I know I’m supposed to connect with today.

I have become used to me being here. Let’s just admit it. We get used to our shitty lives. And even though we want to change things, there is the fear. We don’t know what’s going to happen when things change. We know what’s happening in our lives now. We know what’s going to happen if we stay the same. We have figure out ways to deal with whatever misery we are in. We have even figured out ways to be happy sometimes without having to change. I am here. Yeah, I don’t have a man and I don’t have too many friends and some of my relationships with family aren’t the best and my health isn’t ideal and my money flow could be better and my professional life is on the border of a breakthrough but hasn’t crossed over yet, and my apartment still isn’t decorated like I want it and I need a new couch, and I never have sex, but so. So what? Tehee.

It’s not that bad. I have free time to muse and write blogs, I have enough food, I have at least one friend on the planet who I’m authentic with, I know how to make money when push comes to shove and pay the bills, nobody is breaking my heart at the moment so I’m not crying every day, and sometimes I’m happy, and sometimes I’m inspired, and sometimes I do good work and collaborate with other creatives and have the time of my life. Life is ok, I tell myself.

And the truth is, life is ok. It’s not that bad. But the other truth is, I’m not living out the potentials that I know I have for myself. The potentials that I feel are huge. And I’m so afraid to get out of my comfort zone and go for them all the way. Because it is safe here. Because I had been so hurt by life for so long, and I finally found a safe place right here in my little apartment, not having to interact with mean humans who might hurt me, not having to be disappointed by guys who might break my heart, not having to be judged or rejected, not having to worry about people not liking me just because I’m me, not having to protect myself from being used or manipulated, not having to play small because people close to me with be jealous or hurt if I’m my full-out self, not having to pretend that I believe what I don’t or that I don’t believe what I do. It is safe here where I can pray like I want, sing songs and burn sage in my apartment and not worry about anyone calling me weird or evil or whatever.

I am afraid to go back into the world where it is possible that people can hurt me. That is the truth, too.

I am afraid that if I live my destiny, then even more people will hate me than they do now. I’m afraid I won’t have any friends who aren’t frenemies. I’m afraid my mom won’t love me when she finds out who I am really am. I’m afraid my sibs won’t like me. On the one hand, I’m afraid that I won’t find a man if I’m too awesome, and on the other hand, I’m afraid that I will find a man and he will be so awesome and then I’ll be vulnerable and fall in love and he will break my heart. I’m afraid that people will try and steal my creative ideas and/or exploit my work and images like some people have already done.

I am afraid of so much, Allah, and this commitment that I made is going to force me to have to face every single one of these fears. Can I be honest and just admit that I’m not excited? I’m not feeling ferocious and strong. I’m feeling like a little kid who just has to go to school by himself on the first day, and I’m crying and cowering over here. I’m not always brave.

In my mind, I hear a voice ask, “How much do you want it?” How much do you want to live your destiny? I know, I started this blog just ‘cus I didn’t want to cry every day. I wasn’t talking ’bout no living no destiny. But what do you do when you stop crying every day? What’s next? I didn’t think about that part, but I guess You did, God. Do I really have something good to do with my life? Sometimes I think I do, but I am afraid to say it out loud.

You tell me that I am afraid of so much. I know. I know… What are we gonna do about it? I can’t sit in this apartment looking out at the sunshine through my windows forever, but oh, Allah, do You know how much pain I’ve seen? My life has been a bit much for a little sensitive girl like me. Will You keep me safe? I am afraid…

And You say nothing to me… Instead, my body tingles and I know it is time to stop procrastinating. I know I will choose to get up. I know that there is something in me that is deeper than my fears. I know that if I allow You, Allah, You will make this part easier than I can imagine. My mind wants to lash out and say, “no… but… if… and…” but I know that there is a part of me that is greater than my mind, and this is the part that I must lean into. I won’t even denigrate this part by calling it spirit or soul or intuition or any of that. It is greater than all of that, and honestly, I don’t even know what it’s called. I just know that it exists.

So I’m gonna get off this blog. I am going to trust that the part of me that I can not name will provide what is needed so that I may be safe as I embark on the greatest adventure of my life, the adventure of realizing my destiny. I am going to trust in this even though I am scared out of my freaking mind. I’m not even gonna say I’m not gonna obsess anymore. I might still obsess and worry. But I’m gonna show up anyway. I’m gonna do the work anyway. I guess that’s what commitment means.

Me and my previously commitment-phobic behind are going to commit to something. Nope, we couldn’t ease into this commitment thing with something small, like committing to eating a green leaf every day. We had to start big, talking about transforming our entire life and all. Never really thought I was worth shit, and now I am going to have to believe that my life is worth something, that I am worth something, that I have something to offer…

So here we go again. Commitment is the word of the day, You say. It will see me through to the other side. Ok. Commitment, my previous arch enemy, I’m turning towards you now. You’ve been trying to help me all this time, and I thought you were trying to trap me. I’m sorry. I’m turning towards you now. I’m turning towards… Ameen.

Day 486
Commitment (My New Best Friend)

Day 485 – Make It Up (The Rebuild)

Had a lovely dream last night. Don’t remember all of it. I had a baby. It was weird. I didn’t even know I was pregnant, then one of my sisters told me I was pregnant. I was ok with being pregnant. Then I asked when’s the baby coming, and someone brought a baby to me, and said it was mine. Said someone else had gone through labor for me. They handed me this beautiful baby girl with bright eyes. The father was this sexy guy. Just prior to me finding out that I was pregnant, me and Mr. sexy had been talking about whether or not we wanted to be together. When I woke up, me and my baby daddy still hadn’t decided whether or not we were going to be a couple and parent this kid together. But we were ok. We were ok with having a baby. It was a good thing. It was weird going around with a baby in my arms, being a part of the sacred hood called mother. People looked at me different. The only thing I missed is that I had wanted to go through the experience of labor and delivery…

I know weird. It was one of those dreams that, when you wake up, you feel like the dream meant something. I woke up, and I was in the middle of being asleep and being awake, and the thought “make it up” came to me. “Make it up” is the tagline on my writing business cards. It came to me that this is what I have to do now. With this part of my life. Make it up.

I am here in an apartment that looks like a box in the middle of LA. It’s crazy because I have absolutely no drama in my life for the first time I can remember. I don’t think I’ve felt this way since before I was 11 and I had my traumatic first kiss. There are no fires to put out. There is no toxic relationship pushing me to and fro. Family ties aren’t the best, but I’m ok with them as they are for now. Health and money aren’t the best, but they are good enough for now. I’m not worried about survival issues. I will survive and pay bills and eat somehow someway always, as long as I’m alive. I know this.

But now what? Where do we go from here? This box apartment is lame now. I want to be a part of the world. I want to be connected to the world. We don’t learn how to make a life. Most of us just make do with the life that was given to us – our culture, our family, our place where we’re born. But if you break away from that, which I did, then what? Us women are taught to latch on to some man and build from there, go where he wants to go, do what he wants to do…

I don’t know. I’m not scared. I’m a bit inspired, but I don’t know, you know? How do I dream, Allah? How do I build this part of my life? Where do I go? I don’t know much. All I know is that I can’t stay in this apartment in this way by myself anymore. This just won’t do anymore. My heart is craving Love. My heart is yearning to love and be loved. I am yearning to care for someone deeply. I am yearning to know joy and truth in an experiential way. I am wanting to take my rightful place in the world and know where I belong. I am needing to belong, not out of desperation, not just linking with bodies to have bodies around. I am needing to belong where I belong. For true.

So I’m just sharing. One of my daily affirmations states, “Loving trust of oneself to provide what is needed helps to create the circumstances through which that result is virtually guaranteed.” It’s from the book Oneness by Rasha.

It is time to do the work. The harvest has come in, and now it’s time to decide what to do with the fruit. I remember my magical ex, Dream Lover. His life was a fairytale of made up things. He couldn’t figure out Love. He couldn’t figure out how to be vulnerable and trust in Love, but he was so good at imagining and making up everything else. And he made up songs, and beautiful places to live, and wonderful food dishes…

I’m going to take my feet and step back out into the world now, Lord. I want to build a life that is good and holy. That is my heart’s yearning. I know You will guide me one step at a time. I wonder what will happen. I wonder what picture will emerge as I start to use the paintbrush of my imagination. Here we go. Here’s to a good life, an extraordinary life, a life where dreams comes true are normal and everything I have to give is given… Abracadabra! Abracadabra….


Day 485
Make It Up (The Rebuild)

Day 484 – Worse Than Alone (Tarrying in the Mud)

At my sister’s place. LA. In my feelings. Helping her move-out, but right now I’m waiting on a friend to come from out of town. Airport pickup is in 2 hrs and 15 min, so I’m trying to figure out what I can do in the next 1hr and 45 before I leave to get him.

He’s my best friend. I call him Wings. He always comes to help when I am falling. I help him, too. I am blessed to have him. Someone outside is smoking and soon my clothes will smell like smoke. Either that or close the windows and be hot and stuffed up… I put a face mask on…

Maybe I will ask my friend to live with me. Maybe I will ask him to stay. I am tired of doing it alone. He’s coming because I was falling. For the past two weeks, I have been falling hard. Don’t quite know how it happened. I slipped and fell into a vortex – another world. I world I have been in before; I have lived in before, but I had gotten out of it and been out of it for at least three months. I had (finally) begun to live the life I had always dreamed of, but in the past two weeks, I fell…

It started when I came back to LA at the beginning of this month. An old friend of mine (I’ll call him Vamps b/c he sucks all my energy and has no front teeth) saw an opportunity to try and be a part of my life, and made himself constantly present, showing up with breakfast, inviting me to lunch, offering to pay for stuff, calling in the morning and the night. I know him. I’ve known him for years and I know how he operates, and in the past couple of years, I haven’t accepted any of his invitations, because I know that if I hang with him one-on-one, it’s going to end up with him trying to be romantically involved with me. When I came back to LA at the beginning of October, though, I was afraid. I was afraid of being alone. I had had such an amazing August and September, and I was afraid of coming back to my apartment by myself. I was afraid of coming back to my lonely life after I had experienced how amazing life could be when there are cool, loving people who you are in harmony with in your life… So, when Vamps made his invites, I said yes.

For about a week, Vamps called and/or showed up every day. Then my friend Wings came into town for a quick visit. Wings has a way of pushing men and mean people away from me. So for the few days that Wings was around, Vamps wasn’t. But then Wings left. And I was sad to see him go. And right after he left, I got recruited to do a huge move-out project and my car broke down on the first day. My AAA and insurance had also expired on that day. And I had a presentation due that night and I was supposed to edit a document for my mom on that night, too. Like magic, Vamps called me and asked me if I needed his help with anything. He hung out with me for about 9 hours as we took my car to the shop, stopped by the move-out location, went to Western Union to send out money, and finally ended up at my place. Before the night was over, he tried to hit on me and make me his girl.

That was two weeks ago. That was the beginning of the fall. My back started tingling, and the tingling has only started to subside today. My muscles started hurting, and I became very sad. Between then and now, two other men from my past have proposed to me. Literally. Proposed. Asked me what the eff is wrong with me and why won’t I marry them. I couldn’t ask my two out of three female friends for help with anything b/c their mad at me for not doing for them what they would never fathom doing for me…

Tired of whining. Suffice it to say that I was drowning fast and deep. The men didn’t want to help me unless I let them hold me hostage and women were just bogus always asking for shit that they’re not willing to give. I had one female friend who is ride or die, but her life is so hectic that I don’t want to ask her for help. She needs my help…

My neighbor offered to help with stuff but didn’t. Instead, he took the opportunity to try and manipulate me and at the same time try to be with me. I’m laughing right now. That man can’t figure me out for the life of him. He is always so busy trying to play tricks. He’s a kindergarten trickster. He has no idea that I am the daughter of a con artist and my first love was a mastermind trickster. I smell tricks miles away… They make me sad these days.

Perhaps that is why I’ve been so low the past two weeks. I’ve been out of the land of tricks and manipulation – of meanness and people doing the least while trying to get the most. I’ve been around giving people and people who like me and want to be a part of my world just because they like me. They’re not mad at me for anything. They’re not resentful because I didn’t behave in a particular way. And I came back to LA and found myself alone. Found myself being pulled in all these different directions, none of which had anything to do with anything that is good for me, and found myself feeling like I have to fight again. All my life I’ve had to fight and I didn’t have much of a punch left in me.

That was yesterday. It is amazing what can happen overnight. My friend, Wings, told me that I was tarrying in the mud. He said that I don’t belong in the mud anymore. I understood. There are different worlds all around us. Even in one household, people can be living in starkly different realities. For a long time, I have been involved in relationships that are founded on manipulation, trickery, dysfunction, power plays, abuse, codependence, guilt. I have been close to people who literally can’t stand my guts and want to hurt or punish me for one reason or the other. My Love hasn’t been received openly and Love hasn’t been given to me openly. Maybe I wasn’t willing to receive it. For a long time, my heart has been broken and closed.

But it opened. Sometime in the past few months, my heart opened up, and I experienced a whole new world. I experienced a world I had only ever dreamed of, where people liked me and received me. There was no condition except that I be myself. No one was asking me to save them. No one was asking me to be with them or else. No one was mad at me for not being who they wanted me to be, and people were patient and understanding of me. And they allowed for me to be flawed and still loved me. And they didn’t try to use me or manipulate me. And I was safe in the world. I lived it. It was my dream. I was safe in the world at last.

And last week, with these men.. with these asshole friends… I wasn’t safe anymore. And it took me to a really low place. It was like I was under a spell. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t make decisions. My body was tingling nonstop. I was crying nonstop. I felt alone. I was scared to leave my apartment. I was scared that if I separated myself from the people in my life, then I would be alone. And there I found my greatest fear. All this time, I have been afraid to be alone. I have been afraid to not belong. This fear has held me hostage for most of my life and it was keeping me entangled with vampires, blood suckers, and usurious bastards.

My friend told me to choose. He told me that I couldn’t tarry in the mud anymore. I just couldn’t. But if I cut chords with people from my past, it would leave me alone. Alone. With a broken car maybe. Alone with no dinner companions. Alone with no one to obsess with or talk to or go to parks with… I looked alone in the eye. You see, I had been to heaven and I could see myself slipping back into the mud. And I just couldn’t go back to the mud anymore. So I looked alone in the eye, and I told it to come on! I was willing to be alone. I chose to have a good life, even it meant being alone. I yelled my choice out to the walls in my house.

And the spell was broken.

That was yesterday. Today I can think. I’m gonna go pick up my friend now. My friend came from out of town to help me out. I’m bragging a bit. But he makes me feel loved. I’m grateful. He’s texting me as I’m writing this blog. He’s early. Oh lawd! Gotta go.

There are worst things than being alone. Like tarrying in the mud…

Thanks for reading.


Day 484
Worse Than Alone (Tarrying in the Mud)

Day 483 – The In-Between


So, I’ve written about four blog entries since my last one, but haven’t posted any of them. I’m kind of out of sorts. Not depressed or sad or mad or happy or any of those feelings. Out of it. Have a teleconference in 30 min. My first decently paid writing job. Helping someone rewrite a movie and we have a phone conference scheduled….

So I guess I have 30 min to spill my guts out and get centered some kind of way. They talk about this place – the place that I’m at – at my spiritual center. It’s like you are at the end of one way of being, but you are not quite at the beginning of the new way of being, and so you are in the in between, where nothing makes sense.

You are not motivated by the things that used to motivate you and the goals that used to focus you are no longer your goals. I asked God to take me back to the beginning, to the place I was at before I got programmed into having all the beliefs and goals I had. Nothing made sense anymore.

Right now I am in a big house that is owned by my sister – an MD who is married to an engineer and who has two lovely kids and a dog, and who is pregnant with her third child. This is the dream. She is living the American dream. And I asked myself, do I want to live this dream?

And I couldn’t say yes. Don’t get me wrong. It’s lovely. Money is lovely. And having a life partner is lovely. And kids are lovely if you want them. And working at the career you want is lovely. And living in a house that has enough space and that is near nature is lovely.

But I couldn’t get myself to sit down and pray for these things. I couldn’t get myself to sit down and pray for anything. It all seemed so silly to me. I didn’t know what to pray for. And then the idea of sitting and always asking and praying and working for more, more, more seemed silly, too. I saw us humans, including myself, as a bunch of little ants, just running to and fro, gathering mounds of dust, hating each other, envying each other, hating ourselves for all of the things that one didn’t do for another… And I became uninterested…

I am picking up the feelings of the people who live here, You whisper to my Soul, and I am grateful for this sudden revelation. This is an awakening that I’m experiencing. That is what it’s called. I am here, in the ant world, and I choose to be here as ant, but I am more than an ant as well.

You tell me that I am the guide, and these thoughts seem blasphemous to me. Who am in relationship to You? Who am I, God, and what am I doing here? Really. Who am I?

I am interested in giving now. I am interested in sharing. And I see that our world is not set up this way. Am I one of the people to usher in a new way of being? I would be honored to be this. Can you imagine the prophets and saints and teachers of our world? These are the parts of their lives that no one ever speaks of. They were not of their time. Do you know how lonely and confused they must have been? The things of their world did not make sense to them, and people hated them for their new way of being. People tried to kill them. Kill them! They shunned them because they couldn’t get with the program of the world they were in. Most of them died by the hands of the people they were trying to help, but oh, what mighty lives they lived!

I think I am here to help with something bigger than myself. I am a part of a mission greater than myself. I want to be who I am, Allah. I want to be who I am. I choose to be who I am. How do I know what to choose? How do I know what do next? How do I know what to focus on? How do I know where to live? Who to live with? How can I be the guide if You are the guide? “Finish what you started” is the only message that comes. And so I will. Thank You. Ameen.

Dy 483
The In-Between