Choices...victim...responsible.

Wed May 16 2012

Victim.

 

Every single one of us walks around with this mask every day in some form. Some only pull it out and wear it in certain circumstances. Some wear it full time in every situation in their lives. As if life is one constant Mardi Gras...victim is the mask you will see on every corner and either on the face of each person you pass...or held tightly in their hand “just in case”...

 

When you become aware of this in life, it is as if you levitate above the ground you are walking...and in doing so...start to see things from a new paradigm. When you see things from a new paradigm you are no longer able to wear the victim mask. And when you no longer put the victim mask on...you suddenly are able to identify it on other people...and when you suddenly begin to identify it in other people because you have first looked in the mirror and recognized it on yourself...that is when you really start to piss people off.

 

People get angry when you take their victimhood away. ANGRY. You will see a person defend it like a stray dog who hasn’t eaten in days defending a scrap of food it just sunk its teeth into. You go near that food, your hand is going to be bitten off.

 

Just like Mardi Gras...where someone does something asked of them and then is thrown strands of beads in reward...this is the victim/jerk exchange. The victim seeks out, if even subconsciously the person who will maintain their story. The “jerk” sets in motion what it wants the victim to do...the victim does it...and just like a strand of beads...the “jerk” throws the victim its continuation of being a victim story. All the while the victim gets to moan and cry and say how could you and walk on...mask in tact...to the next situation.

 

How exhausting.

 

I am done with it.

 

I have gotten to a place in my own life where every single event, circumstance or action from another, I look at myself first. What am I thinking? What is the real truth here. Is this something I have experienced before? A pattern I can point out that consistently happens in my life? If so, what am I believing about this issue? What is underneath the surface of it all. What can I DO to take control of what I am creating and create something different?

 

What??? Take control of what YOU are creating?? No one wants that kind of responsibility. No...it is always about someone else.

 

Controlling people. Manipulative people. People who want to dump all over you their negativity and then when you are going through something, not even ask how you are. People who call  you and you could literally put the phone down and go mop the floor and come back and they are still talking...not even aware that you left the conversation. People that pout when you don’t do what they want you to. People who are clingy. People who are co-dependent. People who try to get you to submit and when you don’t, personally attack you. 

 

Are all these people just an accident? Are you or I just helpless to the fact they are present? Like a swarm of bees or sharks circling around? 

 

Have you ever taken a moment to ask yourself why they are present? Have you ever been honest enough to tell them how you feel? To draw boundaries, even when they are acting like you are a horrible person for doing so? Have you ever said “ No”? Have you ever chosen peace and walked away from it instead of feeling obligated? 

 

Here is the thing I am learning...so many times we go into defensive mode...and in doing so...create an exchange of energy that does nothing but keep you in a stalemate and the “story” active. I am learning that when I make a choice to draw a boundary...not give into a person’s manipulation or selfishness...the moment that blast comes towards me(and they will ALWAYS blast you) I just stay focused and keep walking...right through it. No tricky matrix move necessary. No need to pull out guns and fire back. If my choice was to stop co-dependency in my relationships...where people are pulling at me and pouting when I don’t tap dance for them or buy into their drama/story....then when the backlash comes from me saying “no” to it...I just keep my focus on my targeted intention...to let go of all co-dependency from my life. As I do that...the drama...the accusations...the anger...the guilt trips...the manipulation...the clinging...the negative all dissolve in front of me...like apparitions that disappear before I can even focus my eyes on them. However, if I stop and take my eyes off of my “target” and onto the BS...well...the BS overcomes me and the exchange and pattern is perpetuated.

 

I will not be a victim. I have worked hard at letting go of that security blanket. That mask of protection keeping me from responsibility. We all make mistakes. We make them every single day. The difference between a victim and an aware person is the choice to look within instead of putting it off on someone else. That is the only difference.

 

What will you be today? Victim or Victor over situations presenting themselves in your life? Even the gnarliest of circumstances...that you seem to not be able to change...can somehow bring about a blessing in the current situation. A lesson. A strength you didn’t know you had. A stronger back bone. How can you be a victim if that is possible in any given moment and circumstance? That is not to say that it doesn’t suck. That sometimes there are the most painful, horrible, out of our control crappy situations thrown our way. I am not in any way implying that. I am asking what are you going to do with it? That is what takes you from victim to overcomer in your own life.

Are you a victim?

---

The perfect fit

Wed May 2 2012

The perfect fit.

 

I have been thinking a lot about this the last couple of days.

 

In life, there is the ‘doesn’t fit at all’...the ‘almost fits’...the ‘if it fit any better, it would be perfect’ and then the ‘perfect’ fit.

 

Women go around for years wearing the wrong bra size. Oprah shed light on that little phenomenon. People go around wearing the wrong size shoes. The wrong size pants. Too tight. Not tight enough. 

 

When it comes to love...to our homes...to what we do for a living...to our business partners...to our friends...how many people on this planet are living with the ‘doesn’t fit at all’? How many are living with the ‘almost fits’? How many are living with the ‘if it fit any better, it would be perfect’ fit? And how many have actually chosen the ‘perfect’ fit? 

 

I see it all around me. People in partnerships that are not what they want...but maybe what they need. The reason they need it? Because something inside of them either believes the perfect fit doesn’t exist or they haven’t done the inner work it takes to demolish all that keeps them from believing they are worth having it. Ergo, the need to fulfill that belief. Anything else would be a shattering of their story and all they have believed in.

 

I have chosen to take a big leap in my life. To do something, create something, to live somewhere that I feel is my ‘perfect’ fit. It has taken years of searching through the wreckage of mistakes and disappointments...the slumber and numbness that is the plague that comes along with being a human being. 

 

As kids, we know what we dream about...what we can imagine...we believe in magic...it is all we want to fill our moments with. As adults, we slowly fall sleep. It takes decades to fall fully asleep...but most do. To that living proof but not alive way of living. Mediocrity replaces the passion that once pulsed through our veins. Prison bars in the form of a white picket fence and debt now drive most to go to that 9-5 crappy job... just to come home and and have another few hours of unhappiness... just to fall asleep and do it all over again the next morning.

 

Like on autopilot, most of us innately know there is more.. They call that “hope” and most of us still have at least a speck of it in us. The agonizing part is most of us continue choosing the ‘everything other than perfect’ fit. All the while thinking this might be the day that the all elusive happiness or flame of passion flickers again within us. Trying to break free that way is the equivalent of trying to cut off a shackled limb with a dull knife. 

 

People tell me all the time “You’re so lucky. You get to do this and you get to create that.” All the while in my mind I think to myself, “Do the work. Do the work and you will be “lucky” too.” Most people are not willing. You see, it isn’t about luck or what life throws your way. It is about deliberate choices and it is hard as hell. That is why most won’t even get close to freedom.

 

For anyone who has ever had surgery...if you think back to how it feels when you either:

 

1. try to fight when the anesthesiologist first puts those meds into that I.V....yeah...you don’t even get to number two of the ten they tell you to count to. 
2. Try to fight to wake up when you are so groggy... just coming out from it.

 

This is what it is like trying to fight the plague of the non-perfect fit most humans walk around with. The plague that trys to force you to sleep so you walk around like sheep. In order to wake up, you have to master it. The more you fight falling asleep, the more vigilant you are able to become. 

 

As I sat in my nephew’s play room today, I picked up two puzzle pieces that had been put together. As I held up the pieces, I observed how they were a close fit. The opening of one of the pieces almost the same size as the protrusion of the other piece. Yet...they didn’t perfectly line up. Just enough space between their borders to offer up a crack that you could look through. A crack that made it easy enough to break them a part.

 

 A crack big enough...

 

Divorce rates. Amounts of anti-prescription drugs doled out every day. Disease. Depression. Overweight. Underweight. Addiction. Unhappy people. Unhappy homes. Violence. Rage. Theft. Jealousy. Insomnia. Deception. Infidelity...

 

Just because something may be the perfect fit does not make it perfect. I am not speaking of a fantasy world here. I am speaking of closing the gap that is the feeding ground to imbalances and symptoms mentioned above. 

 

Are you brave enough to find your glass slipper in life? Do you dare believe it exists? In purpose? In creation? In love? In living where you are happy? In your friendships? Where what it means to have a “perfect” fit, simply implies that you have something strong enough to close the gap of mediocrity? 

Comments

• And the question of the day is: "Are you brave enough to find your glass slipper in life?" And one I will now ponder for a while. As always, fantastic, thought-provoking post =)

  Tiffany 2 weeks ago flg

• You are so right, Amy. Many of us keep searching, keep going through the motions every day, and for what? Some of us don't even know the answer to that question. Keep writing, sister!

  Donna Kumar 2 weeks ago flg

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Loved...like New Orleans.

Sat Apr 14 2012

I have been praying for some time...

 

Have you ever said a prayer, held a thought, meditated on something and didn’t realize right away that what you had hoped for had been answered?

 

Prayer is hope in motion.

 

I had hoped for an answer. I am at the point in my life where I believe in order for me to create something desired in my life, I have to have desire for that thing. The only way for me to have desire for that specific thing is for me to have enough emotional...what I call “body sense”, feeling about it. I have to feel it to my bones. I have to want it.

 

Love has been a tough thing for me. In the romantic sense, I don’t love often...but when I do, I love fully. It seems to me that over the last few years it just has never added up for me. I have dated no one seriously. It has been a time for me to work on myself. Have some learning experiences. Live. 

 

You know how sometimes as adults we develop slight phobias of things that never used to bother us? Like swimming in the ocean...flying in an airplane...elevators. Stuff that we were never frightful of...all the sudden becomes something we fear.

 

Love...if you hold it at bay long enough...becomes like that ocean...that airplane...that elevator. 

 

In times of soul reflection as of late, I have sat and thought how exactly it is I want to be loved. How it is I want to love. What exactly my fears are concerning love. There is nothing more painful than the unrequited love. A lack of chemistry between two people that does not allow the love to sustain. The one not feeling it disappearing...the one feeling it finding themselves holding their heart in their hands...as if it was a shirt being returned because it just didn’t fit.

 

I honestly found it hard for me to get that emotional feeling, that body sense I was talking about earlier, concerning how it might feel to have a man totally get me. Love me. Fully. Equally. Honestly. It has not been something I have concentrated on. I have not picked men that were capable...I have not been dating or “out there”. I got quite comfortable alone. Not unhappy...not needing...

 

So...I prayed...as I always do. Please show me...how I can get the sense of what it might feel like to be loved this way...that I may call it forward...in my life. That I may feel it in my bones. 

 

It wasn’t until today...as I made a bath...and sank into the hot water...I let out a sigh...and my thoughts drifted to pictures I had seen earlier in the day of New Orleans...the French Quarter...the blue, blue sky being the backdrop to the St. Louis Cathedral. I felt that familiar feeling I always feel when I think of “her”. Happiness. Magic. My heart. Nothing compares to her. How I feel. I don’t see her flaws...or maybe it is that even her flaws are beautiful to me. I don’t see where she has been maimed and scarred. I just love her. To my bones. All my heart. Not because of any one thing...but rather for the way she makes me feel with even a thought of her. Some don’t get her...some think she is just ok...others agree with me that she hung the moon..either way, everything about her does it for me. When I am there...I am 100% present...I can be me. 

Right when I was about to think my thought of late...that I really have no experience to draw from when it comes to what I am praying to understand and feel... I realized that I actually do. 

 

I realized that I want a man to love me the way I love New Orleans. I want to love a man the way I love New Orleans. 

 

Prayers get answered in ways we don’t always expect. My life is very full of love. I know this. It is not that I am needing anything or lacking in anything. It is just a simple acknowledgement that someday...I will love and be loved...like New Orleans.

 

Comments

• The difference between expectation and expectancy is that expectancy is the feeling part of what you're looking forward to. The love for the city is not based on any thought where you've settled... Finding your love will lead in that same way. Stay the course girl, stay the course, and keep inspiring us to not only root for you, but to look toward similar sunrises.

  Sam 1 month ago flg

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I am a kaleidoscope...

Thu Mar 22 2012

I am in the middle of the Master Cleanse. That means no food...yep, no food for days. I am on day four. The first two days were torture. Today I feel clarity. 

I am amazed at how as I clean my body out of toxins, my emotional and mental bodies have started to do the same. The dreams I am having are amazing. I have always been a lucid dreamer, but these are so clearly accurate and directive as to what I am needing to let go of. It almost shocks me and at the same time, makes me look forward to sleeping to see what will present itself next.

One way I am gaining clarity is taking a look at how people have judged me or viewed me in relation to who I really am.

I am a kaleidoscope. 

 

Since the forming of my personality, I have always carried this sort of air about me or belief would probably be a better word...and it is this:

I trust myself. I always have. My friends know that I have great will power. Some are amazed. When I want to let lose, I will. When I don’t want to , I won’t. No matter what is presenting itself to me. With this said, I have always liked to press the envelope in my life a bit. Example: I will dress to the nines. I will do myself up. I love being a woman. I love being sensual. I love the art of femininity. I used to like to go out. I don’t do it much anymore. I was a late bloomer with all that. Twenty five before I had my first drink or stepped foot in my first bar. By my thirties I had traveled to many countries. Stayed for month or two at time. So, I liked to fill some nights with going out with my girlfriends and celebrating life. I never let guys buy drinks for me. I never went home with a stranger. I like dressing up for myself, not for men or other people. Most of my friends know this, I dress up to go anywhere. It is an old art form not many women do anymore these days. Sometimes, that is looked at like an alien with three heads. 

 

How I press the envelope(I am just becoming aware of this now) is that if you want to take a look at me and judge me in the first two seconds instead of taking the time to focus your eye and click...look at that...another view of me. Completely different than the last. If you are a person who can’t even take the time to A. not sum me up in a glance and have that define who you think I am. B. not take the time to see all the different aspects of me...my kaleidoscope called personality, traits, beliefs, faults, gifts, passions, positives and negatives- then you aren’t a person I will ever have in my life.

That is pretty much how I have lived life. I know who I am, if you can’t be the person who takes the time to learn who I am, why should I care what you think? Even though I do. One of my faults...

With my writing, I am an open book. Again, I know who I am. I am not afraid to talk about this human condition we are all in or about life or about the things most people try to hide. Again, my kaleidoscope. If you are not smart enough to know there are many more aspects to view, then you will only see me as one dimensional.

It baffles me when I have heard people at times tell me that the first time they met me or saw me they never imagined I am the person I am. I just don’t get that. I wear myself on my sleeve. Again, perception. It is your judgments that you put on me. Not who I am. This I am finally seeing.

Yes, I am a kaleidoscope and the funny thing is, so are you.

We are made up of so many different colored pieces, that due to reflections off of mirrors(the other person) create a pattern and an image. If you, the other person can’t open your mind and your heart to see past your fears and your judgments and your beliefs to “click” to another pattern...another brilliant display in that same person you are looking at and sizing up...you are not a person who loves and accepts yourself. If you did, you would know we are not one dimensional. You would know you are not one dimensional and because of that knowing, you would accept and not try to pin your assumptions like post it notes all over people.

The word kaleidoscope is derived from the greek words meaning “beautiful beauty, that which is seen and taken shape, to look to examine ”. 

So, as a public person, I am learning to cipher out peoples jealousy, their close mindedness, their fears instead of taking it on for one second and carrying around that toxic ridiculousness that is so very high school in nature. Some people may call it becoming thick skinned. I call it taking out the trash. 

To think you have a person all summed up is not only complete arrogance but utter ignorance. Yet, it is what we do every day as human beings to each other.

Next time you want to place a label on a person, gossip about them or just think a negative thought about them, remember this: We are all kaleidoscopes. Take a moment to just “click” to another view of the person and see what presents itself in that frame. 

I don’t know about where you live, but most smaller cities are full of prejudices. You see someone out, you talk and whisper and judge. You see two people together, you talk and whisper and judge. You hear something about a person that is most likely not true at all....you pass it along to someone else. Complete ignorance and complete prejudice. This has been going on since the beginning of time.

As I clear out my life of things I no longer want to hold on to, this is one of them. I make a conscious choice not to assume anything about anyone and I take the time to see a person in all of their patterns, not just the initial view or the view I always get to see of that person. I will take the time to get to know, if I feel I need to make a judgment. If not, I won’t assume. I will just acknowledge that I don’t know that person. Therefore, I have no right to judge.

How about you?

I am a kaleidoscope. So are you. I think you're beautiful.

Comments

• I absolutely loved your latest, Kalidascope....You articulte your feelings so heartfelt, so clear. Yes, you are many facets, colors. So as I. A true gift to ouselves and others to embrace our uniqueness and being a women.... Again, Amy you always deliver!!! Lots of love and blessings

  Jac 2 months ago flg

• I used to pride myself on being an incredible judge of character. Now I realize that other than safety reasons, there is no value in this. So much of this world is missed by simply assuming something about someone, and deciding to not let them into my life because of it. To miss a possible relationship simply based on a poor initial perception would be a crime. I try to give the benefit of the doubt until I am proved they don't deserve. Great inside look. You have a beautiful soul!!

  rhm 2 months ago flg

• My best friend and I have long phone conversations about relationships, love, life in general, the way people treat each other, you get the gist. We've come to coin a phrase that goes something like, "let's Amy V it". I'm not kidding. Every post you write such as this one, teaches and reminds. The corner of this one will be folded back, marking it as a favorite.

  Tiffany 2 months ago flg

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I'm the fool...

Wed Feb 29 2012

I'm the fool

I’m the fool who thought that when you ran away

It had something to do with me

You left me to my worst assumptions, the very worst assumptions

Giving no relief

I’m the fool whose carried sadness like a candle

the dimmest, faintest light for me to see

Just where I find myself and the path I can’t return to

this place where you left me

 

I wonder what made your heart faint 

To choose such cruelty

What could I have ever done for silence 

Now all that I expect to meet

Yes, I’m the fool who keeps trying 

The weight of pride crushingly 

Every time I put heart to words

As you deny me

 

I’m the fool who prays deep down knowing

You turn your back on yourself, not so much me

It is you who suffers most

And must be such agony

Maybe so long denying these parts

Has made you too numb to be

Brave in heart and strong in mind

Both of those living in compatibility

 

Yes, I’m the fool who prays for you

That your way be at ease

That you might choose that which moves you

Instead of that which fits life comfortably

And if none of this you find in life 

And you choose to live only to succeed

On levels man makes so importunate

for man to feel his vitality

Then I’m the fool who will continue 

To live and to let it be

The way that you have asked me to

not in words but in your retreat 

 

Yes, I’m the fool who knows what’s missed

As you go on blissfully

Ignorant to what was before you

If ever were a masterpiece

Of something having nothing to do

With you nor with me

Not speaking of love or infatuations

But of friendship and camaraderie 

Not knowing where it might have gone

Never given the chance to see

 

 

Yes, I’m the fool who forgives 

And in the same breath doesn’t feel the need

To each his own, everyone must choose

Everyone must concede

To live as they can, grow as best fit

In this life most peacefully

 

I’m the fool who saw some worth

In this crossing of paths between you and me...

 

I’m the fool who writes this now, hoping in each word letting go

there might be some release...

 

Yes, I’m the fool who wants you to know

I hold no animosity

Yes, I’m the fool who will go on being

Just as I am graciously 

Knowing I’d rather be the fool

Than to never learn what this is showing me

That you not choosing to treat me with love

Has taught me how much love I do merit, on the contrary.

 

Thank you. 

 

Thank you.

 

Thank you for letting me be...

The fool.

Comments

• So powerful the feeling that emerge once something is gone, especially when no one knows where it might of led. Spent many a hour playing out possibilities in a similar situation and the fact remains, one will never know until they have the guts to try. Very well written from the heart!!!

  RHM 2 months ago flg

• Congratulations on having one of the most sophisticated blogs I've came across in some time! Its just incredible how much you can take away from something simply because of how visually beautiful it is. Youve put together a great blog space great graphics, videos, layout. www.amyvenezia.com is definitely a must-see blog!

  anabolics online 2 months ago flg

• You're never the fool! Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet...

  jacqui 2 months ago flg

• You have a gift for writing Amy! Powerful words..

  Charles 3 months ago flg

• Make it a song Amy, literally; as a song...especially sung by YOU, it would be amazing.

  Sandra 3 months ago flg

• God bumps. a song, perhaps..universal words,feelings..a release, ownership of your part in the connection..other men and women will relate to the potent words you just wrote..how many of us have asked why? Definitely needs to be shared. I do find it hard that you label yours a fool, as it is never foolish to have loved and lost-fodder for creativity yes..fuel for introspection always......

  Mary 3 months ago flg

• i am feeling it....great expression of what many have experienced at least once in their life.

  M. Brimmer 3 months ago flg

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Happy Love Day...

Tue Feb 14 2012

The last two days have been an interesting observation of the people around me. With Valentine’s Day approaching like a hurricane, I went to Whole Foods for my daily juice at their juice bar, only to watch as men scurried around with roses and chocolates in their carts or hands ...like stocking up on food and water for an incoming storm. 

 

I smiled as I watched women walk in the door, which just happens to be right where the flowers are, only to see their eyes light up and an instant smile appear on their faces. Roses everywhere. Balloons saying I love you and be my valentine...everywhere. Heart shaped candy boxes and a whole section of cards with red envelopes...

 

I went to visit my sister and as I sat talking with her my nephew came running in with a painted red-clay heart he had made in school for my sister. It hung by a red ribbon and on the back he had carved, “Love, Lucas 2012”. I told him how beautiful it was and listened as my sister told him to be very careful taking it back to the bedroom, which was where she planned to hang it up. I watched him begin to skip off and he didn’t make it three steps before I watched what seemed like a slow motion play by play of him tripping over his feet, losing his grip on the red ribbon, and the clay heart smashing on the hardwood floors.

 

His poor face...and my sister’s poor face. She held back tears and he looked up shocked. I jumped to my feet and went over to the mess, only to see it had shattered into at least 20-30 small pieces. I began to gather them up and asked my nephew to find me some glue. My sister immediately, out of frustration, said, “There is no way it can be fixed. Don’t waste the time.” I didn’t say anything and continued to gather pieces, thinking to myself she probably was right. But there was no way I wasn’t going to at least try. My nephew came running back with glue and he said, “ Aunt Amy...you can’t fix that. It can’t be fixed.” I stopped what I was doing and looked up at him and straight into his eyes and said, “Lucas, there is absolutely nothing in life that can’t be fixed. It may never be the same, but it can be fixed.” 

For the next hour I sat frustrated, trying to put these tiny pieces together like a puzzle. I zoned out my sister saying to not worry about it and my nephew continuing to say it couldn’t be put back together again...and I began to wonder why I was so determined.

Part of it, yes, was because of both of their faces when it broke and how I wanted to fix that. But a bigger part of me felt like that broken heart in front of me on the hard wood floor was my heart. And my sister’s heart. And my friend’s hearts. And my parent’s hearts...every person I have ever loved...that had ever hurt...whose heart had been broken at some point. I had to fix it. I had to prove it could be put back together again. I had to see it, tangibly in front of me. That no, it wasn’t going to ever be the same...perfectly pristine heart. It was going to have cracks and chips and not quite perfect fits of pieces put back together again, but it was going to be a whole heart again. If it took me all night.

 

The picture attached to this post is the end result. 

 

And it made me think. How many of us take the pieces... sit and take the time...the intricate, redundant, painstaking time to put our hearts back together again? How many of us wait for that person who broke it, or someone else to do the work and put us back together again? 

 

Any heart can mend. It takes time. And it takes knowing that nothing is ever truly lost...if you believe. People may leave, turn their backs, choose not to love you, leave this earth, never give a reason why their gone...and it yes, it hurts like hell. It truly does...

 

On this Valentine’s Day...remember this. There is nothing in life that stays broken, if you try and put it back together again. If you can just accept it for its imperfection...the way it has changed...that you will never have back the way it was...and that it is ok...just as it is. 

 

Happy Love Day.

Comments

• I have always believed we have to go with our hearts, instead of our brains. Logic say to grab a broom, the heart says to grab some glue. Nice job on working towards making everything better:)

  RHM 2 months ago flg

• I think there was dust in the air cause I had to rub my eye for a second... ;-) It's in our nature to repair and yet(you're right) it's never the same, but some imperfections are acceptable. Then there are those times, when we can't accept, only to have someone else come in...to try their luck with the repair. Great stuff

  Sam 3 months ago flg

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Back home to me.

Tue Jan 17 2012

People ask me why I have fallen so deeply, madly in love with New Orleans. How a city or a place in general could really be that moving. 

 

Well... I moved back to Nashville because I had to. My mom was struggling in her health. Intuitively I knew I needed to come back. I needed to be close to my parents. I was across the US with no ties. I loved where I lived but deeply missed my family. With that, I packed up my car and drove to Nashville. 

 

People would ask me why I moved. I would tell them, since my mom was now better at the time, that something deep inside tells me that I need to be there. Thankfully, I listened to that ‘something deep inside’, as both of my parents are now sick and I have gotten to be with them the last four years and be there for them now. 

 

So here I am. And like an arranged marriage, I have found ways to love Nashville. It is not and has never been my soulmate per say. My friends know this. My family knows this. It has taken over four years for me to make my place, take my medicine, swallow that I am here and love it. It isn’t that there is anything wrong with Nashville. At all. It just isn’t my soul match. It doesn’t get me and I don’t get it. 

 

Nashville to me is like a wine that comes from one of the best, award winning vineyards in the world. It is money. It is potential. It is already worth something. But it is brand spanking new. You open that baby up? It hasn’t fully developed. It has tinge and a tang taste to it. It is not old soul. Just my opinion. There are many things to love about it and enjoy in this city. And I find those things and that is what I focus on.

 

Then there is the day I drove over those bridges towards New Orleans. I felt it instantly. If you can believe that. I did. I knew I was coming home. My match. My perfect match. 

 

I have always marched to my own beat. I am different. In every single aspect, I am. And I try to fit in. I try to understand and I try to make my home. But at night, I lay my head down and I know I am not home. Although I am still grateful, there is a feeling that something is always missing.

 

What is it? Could be that my intuition, clairvoyance is not looked at like have three heads in New Orleans. That is a big part. I can look at a person and know. I just do. I have premonitions and have my whole life. When my friend just passed in October. She came to me in dream. With messages for four people. One was a very good friend. One was someone I knew, but not well. Two were people I didn’t know at all. She came with specific things I needed to tell each one first so that they would know it was her, not my head. I struggled and struggled with sharing it. Days passed. If I shared it, they would think I was completely nuts. If I didn’t share it, I would always feel like I let Dina down.

 

So I decided to mass message them all. I specifically told each one the first message Dina had for them, which was the proof that it was her and not me. The other messages, that came after, I gave privately. But only after receiving complete confirmation that what I had shared were things that were not only true, but things I could not have possibly ever have known. And yet, I feel to keep these things to myself. 37 years worth of experiences like this. That my dearest friends know...because they have experienced to some extent with me in their own lives. My family knows of course, because they know me. 

 

These are the kinds of things I have experienced my whole life. And to most, they cannot understand. I am always so misunderstood by at least someone. I reach out when there is a closed door because my gut tells me I have to. For lessons. Not only for me, but for them. And sometimes I get judged in ways that hurt deeply. But I have denied that inner voice in me for the sake of acceptance. And in doing so, have denied the biggest part of me.

 

 I do keep these things close to my heart. My dear friends and my family are the only exceptions. But how can you go through life with something such a part of you and have to act like it is not there to the mass people you come across? Without having a part of you suffer for it?

 

I have always held the trait in life that no matter what is going on in your heart, in your world, dance. Celebrate. If you have $10 to your name, get a glass of wine, sit and hear some music. Live in your heart. Don’t worry about tomorrow. Live today. And if you  have lost something dear to you, sing. Don’t ever let your heart stop singing. Don't ever judge a person. They are doing the best they can. They are beautiful the way they are. This has always been my heart. And the times I have judged are times I have been hurting the most. I understand on a deep level that when people judge it is because they hurt. Somewhere inside...they hurt.

 

I have been very successful over my years. I have traveled the world. I have been with the wealthiest of people. I have driven beautiful cars and lived in beautiful places. And then I have  lost it all. I have lived in my car. I have had no money to eat. There were times I could not pay my bills. I have had a car repossessed. I have lost my businesses and rebuilt again. I have been denied credit. I have rebuilt my credit. I have lived both extremes. I have had people look at me because of my success like I was a Goddess. And I have had people look at me like I was dirt because I was late on payments. I have felt the superiority that comes with money and the shame that comes with poverty.

 

This is why I identify with a city that is a fighter. A city that lives one foot in the spiritual world and one foot on the dirty pavement. A city whose music does not die with it. It's not that Nashville does not have these traits...but New Orleans is a city who allows people to BE who they are and doesn’t look down on them but says “Play that drum. Dance. No matter if you are on the beat or on your own beat.  You are welcome here.”  And the only way it is able to do that is because it is like an aged wine. It is old soul. 

 

This is why I love New Orleans. New Orleans is now an analogy for my "home". That place in me that has been buried underneath life circumstances and floods of judgment, failures, mistakes, poor planning and sometimes just misfortune. This is why now that I have found it, I will never go back to the way I was being. 

 

And though I have my lot here in Nashville, that I must stay on... I will live as myself. 100% myself. And stop a watered down version of myself so I may fit in. I will live in my “arranged marriage” and I will think of my “lover”...that brings me back to life again. That makes me feel alive and creative again and inspired. I will live where life brings me right now, but I will live as ME.

 

This is where I am at in the beginning of 2012. No longer trapped by circumstance or allowing other people’s thinking to in any way cloud my own. 

 

I am back home. To me. My New Orleans.

 

 

Comments

• It is strange how much geography can speak to our hearts. Even in my city, I find pockets that I just want to pitch a sleeping bag and hug the ground I walk on, and then only a few miles away there are areas that make my spine tingle , and not in a good way. I am beyond excited to come experience New Orleans.

  RHM 2 months ago flg

• Thanks for using both your talents and your transparency! Nashville is better because of it.

  Bryan 4 months ago flg

• Best piece to date...very moving. Thanks for sharing.

  Paul 4 months ago flg

• Again....I just really dig u. Ur soul is just beautiful. Thank u for sharing like u do. :)

  Melody 4 months ago flg

• Amy, nice post. Good for you! I applaud your bravery and your beautiful mind. You know, we are our own toughest critics. As much as you think you don't fit in here at times, I can assure you that you indeed do. And, as a Nashvillian, I am glad that you are living here at least for a while. If you weren't here, we would never have met, you would never have your sweet gift in Angel. She is also connecting you to New Orleans in some strange, cosmic way. Keep writing and inspiring!

  Donna 4 months ago flg

• BRAVA!! You really share yourself, experience and inspiration. I relate to being up and down in life, finances and faith to find myself again so I can just be me. Thank you for your commitment to share yourself. You ultimately find people who are not alone in ones own experiences.

  RJH 4 months ago flg

• As always, beautifully written, wonderful sharing and absolute truth in living. xoxo

  Crown Cherry 4 months ago flg

• Very good, I could feel your writing!!

  Martin 4 months ago flg

• I love it. Beautifully written. From your soul to your heart. Looks like you finally gave yourself permission to be you. :) Lovely.

  Janis 4 months ago flg

• Welcome home sister! I feel you..beautifully written.

  Jacqui 4 months ago flg

• You have it all Amy..Beautiful on both the inside and Knock Dead Gorgeous on the Earth Plane !! ♥ to read your Threads......Thank You for sharing ! Peace Out ~

  Dan 4 months ago flg

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Vignette #5 from New Orleans: Three Muses

Tue Jan 10 2012

Vignette #5 from New Orleans: Three Muses

 

Sitting, staring out my window as I watch people pass by, I am aware that there are greater things at work in my life than I am willing to acknowledge at times.

 

Mysteries.

 

Fate.

 

Flow.

 

I came to New Orleans when I was a teenager. I stayed one night, I can’t remember where. I was there for a seminar. I did not go outside of my hotel. At that time, I was much more sensitive than I am now. No thicker skin to protect... I picked up everything around me like a body made up of antennas. I felt the energy that makes New Orleans what it is...and truthfully, it scared me. 

 

Fast forward to two decades later, I meet a woman who lived in Nashville but was from New Orleans. We become friends. She is everything I wish I could be. Open. Full of life. No fear. Compassionate. Not a judgmental bone in her body. The very epitome of what I consider Mother energy to feel like. All loving, kind, gentle, protective. She was a beautiful soul. I say was, because she is no longer with us.

 

Over and over this friend would ask me to go to New Orleans with her and friends. Over and over was a new excuse from as to why I couldn’t. Finances. Timing. I was sick. My parents were sick. The weather. Every time, I came up with a reason to say no.

 

Then my friend passed away. This year.

 

Sometime over the summer I met a guy who I felt I hit it off with. He was also from New Orleans. I actually remember telling my friend about him over a pitcher of margaritas...just in passing conversation that I had met a man from Nola...and thought he was really cool. I remember her joking with me asking me for his name because she teasingly said she would find out anything I wanted to know about him. I didn’t have a last name. That made her laugh even more.

 

Enter into the picture, my writing partner. A man I am contracted to write a screenplay with. He is in love with New Orleans like she is his soulmate. He is not from this country, but is captivated by her.

 

In October, I started planning a trip to California for my writing partner and I to finish up the screenplay and to have meetings concerning it. My writing partner suggest we go to New Orleans instead. At first, I didn’t want to do that. I wanted California. I fought for California. But with his persuasion and the thought of going, finally, to the city my dear friend tried over and over to get me to...and the thought of maybe, the man with whom I only had a first name, maybe getting to grab a coffee with him and catch up...well, those persuasions had me relinquishing my protest for California over Nola.

 

Trip planned, my writing partner and I arrive. The first night we are there we walk down Frenchmen. Music and food and laughter coming from doorways as we pass...all the sudden I hear the sounds of a banjo...maybe washboard? Magically, something makes me leave my writing partner standing there as I walk into the doorway the music is wafting from.

 

I stand in trance in the doorway. My writing partner walks in and stands next to me. In a daze I listen for a few minutes...finally come to ...and walk out. My writing partner makes the comment that if I had not walked in there...he was going to...and how odd that we were both drawn in almost at the same time...considering we had not gone into any other place on Frenchmen.

 

The next day, I have a dinner planned with Mr. First Name Only. He meets me down at the Bombay Club for a drink first and tells of how there is this new place he wants to try...his friends have told him about it...he asks if that would be ok. Of course...I say, yes.

 

We hop in a cab and he tells the driver to go to Frenchmen.

 

Driver drops us past where he wanted to go...we get out and begin to walk to where he thinks this place is. He stops at the door of the place I had been so drawn to the night before. He motions for me to walk in...I am a bit stunned. Out of all the places in New Orleans...

 

We go to the only table that is available and sit. There are no waitresses, so he goes to the bar to order our food and drinks. As he does, I text my writing partner something along the lines of “ You won’t believe it...he took me to Three Muses...the place we were both so drawn to last night.”

 

My writing partner immediately texts back and says, “YOU”RE not going to believe it. I just walked down there and had dinner about an hour ago. What table are you sitting at?”

 

I reply, “ One in the center of the room, up against a pole.”

 

He replies, “ Amy, I am stunned. I just sat at that very table and had dinner.” 

 

Well...I was the one stunned. Even more so to find out I was sitting in the very chair my writing partner had just been sitting at an hour before. I was stunned at the fact that the night before, I am in a trance-like state drawn into this space...and so is my writing partner...only to have the guy I am meeting again choose this very place to take me for dinner.

 

The next day my writing partner and I sat trying to wrap our heads around what that possibly could have meant. It just was too much to be dismissed as coincidence. It was magic...it was being led by something that connected all three of us. 

 

That night I received a brilliant idea for a new book to write. An idea I never would have gotten had it not been for New Orleans, for the man I met again, for my dear friend I had lost who was a huge reason why I even found myself in the city again.

This trip, I found my sublet I had rented and dropped off my things. I immediately started walking around to find a place to eat. Lo and behold I find my self standing below that sign again...Three Muses. This time I sat outside, not inside. As the musicians played and I enjoyed a glass of wine, I thought about how much had transpired, how much I had learned since just a couple months before...being at this very spot for the first time. Amazing how much can happen in such a short period...

 

"Three Muses" helped me to get to a place where I feel I divinely received direction for my life. 

 

Three Muses. My dear friend, my writing partner, and the man whom I had only known by his first name. 

 

Life is so much more beautiful when you believe and allow magic. Sometimes when you just go with the flow, you get new direction. When you don't dissect or think to deeply into it...just go with it. You get a new idea, you find something you never even knew you had lost, you receive inspiration to make changes or allow something a little different from what you are used to. 

You can call it whatever you call it...fate...source...God...inspiration...even coincidence. Nothing you call it will ever change the fact that it happens in life...and the more you acknowledge it to be so, the more you experience it.

Three Muses. Literally. 

Oh...and the actual Three Muses in Nola...you don't want to miss it. Great food...great music. Magic.

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Vignette #4 from New Orleans: Can you spare some change?

Tue Jan 3 2012

Vignette #4 from New Orleans: In whom or what do you trust?

 

Fiduciary.

 

No, this was not one of my words from a scrabble game last night.

 

I woke up this morning...got ready...walked my daily walk. Normally, before my coffee I am pretty much free of thought. Or...would not want to be judged on my conversations before intake.

 

I go up to the counter...order my americano with a smidgen of soy milk( I like to change it up...smidgen, pinch, sprinkle, morsel, dash..you get it) and I look at a flip calendar type thing that has a “word of the day”.

 

Fiduciary: held or founded in trust or confidence.

 

Even before my first sip...my mind was moving. I don’t like that. My mind moves enough throughout the day...I like its coma like stance it takes before caffeine.

 

Never the less..I asked myself the question, Whom and what do I hold trust and confidence in my life?

 

That is an open ended question. 

 

Are we talking trust in how I know a certain person will show up? Trust in how I know something will turn out? Or absolute trust?

 

I used to be Pollyanna when it came to trust. It took years and many raking’s over coals to finally realize that you can’t always believe what people portray or say to you. I always thought or believed if people said something to you with absolute conviction, you could believe them. Dumb...but true.

 

At 37 years old there is not much I trust in. Except change. I trust that things will always change. That I change. That people can change. 

 

And that is one thing that this trip is about. Pushing my limits. Not staying in a rut. Not going to the same places. Surviving in a city by myself. Pushing myself to write better than I have in the past. 

 

One small way is some days I have my coffee from Rose...somedays I go to PJ’s...some days I go have breakfast somewhere and get it. I am a creature of habit and if I don’t consciously choose change...I will do the same thing over and over.

 

A creative can’t live that way. Not when you want to go beyond what even you think you are capable of. You have to choose change...and for me, that doesn’t come easy. But every time I do...I feel liberated...a little wiser...a little more inspired...a little closer to my heart.

 

Like today, I had eggs benedict. I don’t like eggs benedict...but I went to Stanley at Jackson Square and asked the guy what he suggested...that was his suggestion, so I got it. And I loved it. 

 

That is what my 2012 is going to be about. Dropping old judgements. Trying new things. Expanding my horizons. Making my ability to adapt my fiduciary. One eggs benedict at a time.

 

How about you? Can you spare some change?

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Vignette #3 from New Orleans: The pretty and the gritty

Sun Jan 1 2012

Vignette #3 from New Orleans: The pretty and the gritty...

 

“New Orleans is like a beautiful woman whose had one eye gauged out, has two missing limbs, and a permanently damaged outlook....but...and this is very important...she’s not dead.”- Anthony Bourdain

 

Walking down the street to Cafe Rose Nicaud...I realized it has been some time since my senses were as acute as they have been, since I stepped out of my car and onto the sidewalk at Dauphine St. 

 

I heard church bells...foghorns...the sound of footsteps behind me...the squeaking of a rusty bicycle being rode by a guy with dreads and a cigarette hanging from his lips. 

 

It is New Years day and I am the happiest I have been in some time.

 

As I sit drinking my coffee looking out at the light rain falling on the black, potholed street...I ponder...

 

What is it about this city that I so identify with? I wake up happy in the morning. I wake up inspired. I wake up at peace. I wake up alive and not just the breathing kind of alive. I wake up the way we all should be a(live). Live. The Saturday Night Live kind of alive. Not running on tapes of the past. On auto pilot. Re-runs. Live...unscripted...alert...willing to improvise.

 

Open.

 

I have done well at creating a persona that does not reflect a lot of my life story. I have done this because I refuse to be identified by experiences. Heart breaks. Mistakes. Betrayals. Hardships. After all, at the end of the day, these are just “stories”.

 

There is a part of me that can stroll down St. Charles and identify. Feel at home.

 

There is a bigger part of me that can stroll through the French Quarter in its beauty and grit and feel one with it. 

 

If you were to look underneath this skin...the clothes...the hair...the make-up...the body...the human shell...I would most likely resemble that Anthony Bourdain quote. More scars than skin. Missing parts. Broken parts put back together. I am proud to say I am not a pristine soul that has had easiness of life to keep it spotless. And yet, most assume the opposite.

 

That is why I resonate with this city. Why I feel like a part of me has come back to me every minute I am here. 

 

We are all like New Orleans. A melting pot of richness, beauty, and heartbreak... so much deeper than the outer surface first portrays. No one can be judged by their persona...and it is only those who care to look deeper...walk all your streets...see every part from the prettiest parts to the back alleys...that are truly seeing you for who you are.

 

I have those in my life who treat me like Bourbon Street. They come to my “city” and all they see is the touristy, superficial part. They don’t want to hear the original...they want to hear the cover....and when they find they don’t like what they hear...they start a fight and leave a mess behind.

 

I have those in my life that treat me like St. Charles Avenue. They see the grand parts...and treat me with respect for those parts...

 

There are those in my life that treat me like Royal Street. They know the hauntings...they feel the magic...they want to hear the stories...they are intrigued with the past.

 

Then there are those that treat me like Frenchmen St. They hear the “music” wafting out of the open doors...they heard there was a great place to sit and listen...they take some time...they close their eyes...they enjoy what they hear...they do not criticize. 

 

Yes, the human condition is the New Orleans condition. Something so beautiful with so much grit and grime. Perfection in the imperfection. 

 

Full of life and full of fight.

Comments

• Thank you for the city view... The glimpse created a curiosity to want more from this city.

  Sam 5 months ago flg

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