Moon over the hill (life after 40)

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Fri, 22 Aug 2008 04:30:00 +0000

My dentist is a Chinese guy, a real nice guy too, and I went to see him today to have my last wisdom tooth pulled. I was a little more than nervous. It was bottom left and it was broken and it was hurting.

I was waiting in his reception, and this is why I made a big thing out of him being Chinese, he was happily chatting away to some of his Chinese clients with his Chinese nurse. It didn't make me feel like I was in a different country; it made me feel like I was invisible. The last time I remember feeling that way was when I was a kid and it was a pretty weird feeling now that I'm middle aged. It got me thinking about how we treat people and how we sometimes do this to people because they're not popular enough, not part of our group or whatever. Like I said though, my dentist is a really nice guy and he eventually turned about and gave me the most beautiful smile and greeted me with a hi. I felt that there was such a lesson in this for me because I had considered the feeling of irritation I felt both at being ignored and also at him already running late and having time to chat (I realized that he was waiting for the anesthesia to take effect on someone else before working on them).

When it was my turn he had a look at that old tooth of mine and started to give me the anesthesia shots. I find those to almost the worst thing of all when I go to the dentist. I'm a freak when it comes to anesthesia, it took four rounds of the stuff to numb the tooth (the last round went straight into the part of the tooth that still hurt) and it still wouldn't numb properly. I gave the go ahead to start anyway and told him he would know when to stop if it still hurt too much. It dawned on there and then that I had already suffered far worse. I had given birth and this was going to be child's play compared to that no matter what happened.

The tooth was stubborn. I felt like it was holding on for grim death to all it had ever known. Teeth are alive you know, they absorb things through their enamel for example. It was almost as though it was afraid to let go of me but it finally came out and my dentist asked me to look at it (they do that so that you can confirm the whole tooth and the roots came out). I told him I didn't want to look at it but then I realized that it was a part of me lying there on the table and I was rejecting it as though it was something ugly and nasty. I did take a look at it and couldn't help myself, I said "Bye bye!" The dentist nurse laughed.

On the way home I thought about that tooth, that part of me that was now removed. I thought that if it had its own life would it be sad or relieved that it was no longer in pain or hurting me. Would its little soul (energy) slip away and join the source? I don't know but I do know that I have never thought about a tooth like that before. I know it sounds warped (but then I am warped) but it made me realize that everything has its place in this Universe even a broken wisdom tooth.

The humans must be crazy

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Tue, 19 Aug 2008 00:38:00 +0000

Back in the good old days (1980) someone made a movie called The Gods must be crazy. It’s about a Sho man in the Kalahari desert who finds a Coke bottle (in those days they were made of glass a material frequently used for bottles in these ancient times) falling out of the sky. He brings it back to his people and the people find many uses for the object. Fights soon break out over the bottle and who’s going to use it among an otherwise peaceful people so the Kalahari man decides to take the bottle back to God who obviously gave it to them. The rest of the movie is a serious of mishaps that happen when he tries to find God so that he can get rid of the object that caused so much trouble among his people. It’s an endearing little flick mainly because it turns an every day object into something of importance and it makes the Kalahari man question the sanity of the Gods who gave this item to his people.

I sometimes wonder (my mind does work in strange ways at times) that if the Gods and Goddesses really exist (and I have to admit that I do talk to them occasionally) do they look down at us from wherever they are and wonder what the heck is going on here.

They’ve given us plenty of instructions on how to live and some we have distorted for our own purposes and some we have completely misunderstood. Some of us have hijacked the instructions and teachings they’ve given us and began telling others that they are the only ones who understand what god/the gods meant and their interpretation is the only way. Some of us have singled out one of them as the only one and tell others who don’t follow that way that they are doomed.

Do you ever wonder if Jesus sits there with his head in his hands shaking it muttering something about it not being what he meant at all? Maybe Buddha reassures him with a pat on the back solemnly stating that he knows exactly how Jesus feels, that despite the hard work of the Dalai Lama most people just seem to miss the point. Maybe Jesus thinks to himself (not saying it our loud because he doesn’t want to hurt Buddha’s feelings) that at least you have the Dalai Lama kind of uniting the Buddhists, just look at the Christian and see how fractioned they are. Others may not worry so much about fractions but rather about the violence carried out in their name. Others again may just shrug and give up; humanity is on its own, they’ve done what they can. Others may have lost following altogether and may be wondering what the whingeing is all about, at least hey have someone who still talks to them.

I don’t know but I find humans awfully odd at times. I’m almost at the point of admiring our ability to use tunnel vision that it almost leaves us blind. We are so afraid of facing up to things, taking responsibility and to use common sense when it comes to big problems. Ego is hard at work of course. How could I possibly dare to reduce my current living standard somewhat to ensure that someone lives better somewhere else? It’s not like they’re going to thank me, is it? No, on an individual level it is too hard but if thought more along the lines of the bigger picture and everyone pitched in a bit then the whole thing would be completely different and so much easier.

Excuse me while I put my head back in the sand. This makes my head hurt and it all seems too hard. Ciao!

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 21:01:00 +0000

I work for a company that has been in a sort of flux for some time now. A few years back we got a new boss in the R&D department which is where I work. He was forceful, he swore (not only to weed out the slackers but literally) and he promised new times with innovative ways to do things. We were almost the world's best company in our field and now we were going to be the best.

Truth was that he frightened the crap out of everyone but that wasn't all. Things like him saying that because 40% of sick days were falling on Mondays and Fridays we would now need doctor's certificates for those days if we were sick whereas we previously hadn't left us confused. We did the math (and in case you haven't...) and we realized quite quickly that 40% of workdays fell on Mondays and Fridays too (you are coming to the same conclusion we did right - statistically all was fine) so what was the problem?

We were surveyed and it turned out that most of us wanted to be better informed so he instituted quarterly information sessions when everyone, in groups of 25, would turn up in a meeting room and he would do a presentation. He called it communicating with us. We called it him communicating at us. No one dared to open their mouths during these sessions even when he asked for input except for the favored few. However, he could go back and say that we were all happy (we didn't question or challenge him while we had the opportunity in these "intimate" meetings) and we were informed because of these sessions. The illusion had been created that all was well and the people was getting what they wanted: communication and transparency.

This went on for about two years. Anybody down on the coalface (so to speak) could tell that people were less inspired and started to care less. The lower ranks of managers had to do their best to keep their people going. HR told them that although this man came across as hard and heartless he was "passionate" about the company and as such he was good for us. We were told we should have faith in him because he was going to lead us to great things. He hadn't been put in charge of three major departments (Sales, Marketing and R&D - now there's a conflict of interest!) for nothing.

Well, unfortunately this man didn't quite succeed in bringing us into greater times. He did however institute a management style in the higher ranks that meant that they were free to do (as my manager likes to call them) "impromptu performance reviews". They were basically dress downs that took place in public shouting so that all were left without doubt that the offending "plebeian" deserved this kind of treatment and was a complete fool. Many a good person fell foul of the higher ranks and they were slowly made to resign, or in some cases they were retrenched, while their only real crime was to know the business better than the higher ranks that had been brought in by this man we now had running the department.

In a sudden move this man lost all his departments and was left with (his half a million dollar a year paycheck and a) small department to run. He resigned yesterday and was seen out the door the same day. We all knew why he went and that he was never going to go anywhere in the company again. It would look bad to stay because for all intents and purposes he had been demoted. He had no choice but to go. Problem is that his legacy lives on and so does the damage that was been done. People are now so disillusioned that one wonders if the company will survive.

There seems to be a trend out there to treat workers as though they are not important in the bigger scheme. They are commodities and they are replaceable. What matters is the company profits. One has to wonder if this is what we really want and if this is what capitalism really is about. The majority of the people do not benefit but we are asked to swallow it hook line and sinker, and we do. People base whole careers on this system but they remain largely unfulfilled. Stress and dissatisfaction take their toll on us all. We feel fettered to a way of living that doesn't suit most of us but it's all we have to hold on to. The ultimate price we pay is environmental destruction as we become so disconnected from nature and the way we really are deep inside. We refuse to look inside ourselves because all we see in there is pain. The only way to change this is for all of to make different choices but most of us don't even know that we have the right to.

Transformation time

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 05:10:00 +0000

Today is one of those days (hence my third post) when my soul positively aches for more. I don’t know if it has to do with being so close to full moon, the nearing moon eclipse or just a phase I’m in but I’m hungry for more. What I can see and perceive today feels like it’s nothing, it’s not enough, it simply falls so short that I just can’t be satisfied with it. No matter how much I try to tell myself that I should appreciate not hunger, I still seem to be starving. This is a time for intake of information – I know that because I have been here before – and it will be followed by a period of introspection.

What this means is that my mind wants to travel and expand. My spirit wants to reach places far away without the constraints of time. My soul wants to know more about the people who surround me in my reality and out of it. I want to choose my next step, a new path and head towards a new outcome that will be quite different from what I have had so far. I want to destroy the old and create the new at the same time. I want to surprise and be surprised. I want to expand and explore. I want to invite new perceptions and find new ways of looking at things. I want to get to know new people (or beings). I want to do so in joy, while my soul still sings and before reality again chains me to my ordinary life. I want to do it while I still have hope that I will be able to remain free this time. I am in transformation and perhaps this time I will be able to slingshot myself out of the old and into the new if I can just gain enough momentum.

May the goddess be with me because I’m doing this without a safety harness or a helmet…..and I will keep you posted.

Those people....

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 03:39:00 +0000

There are those people that you for some reason always feel drawn to. You don’t even have to know them well; they don’t even have to seemingly acknowledge your existence yet you have this warm feeling about them.

You don’t need to see them all the time, you somehow still feel connected. They turn up in your most profound dreams and may even take on a supporting role in those dreams. For some reason even when you are at odds with them you have a feeling like they are a pair of your favourite old slippers that you have worn forever and you just know that they are such good quality that they will never wear out.

You never get close to them for some reason. Occasionally you spend time wondering why that is and why it is you still feel so connected to them. You end up asking yourself what you are waiting for and whether you should try to get closer to them or not. You wonder if they feel the same or if they are they completely oblivious to you and what you are feeling.

Sometimes they disappear out of your life never to be seen again or perhaps to turn up later quite unexpectedly. Sometimes you don’t see them for days, weeks or months but you heart and soul sing when they come into view again and you don’t even have to have them acknowledge you in any way. It’s as thought the sheer presence of their energy is enough to soothe you even when you didn’t know you were aching for it. Sometimes they nudge ever closer to you but it takes years. It’s so subtle that you don’t really notice and even if you do, you decide that because it’s moving so slowly they are not feeling what you do.

It happens sometimes that they reach out and physically touch you, quite unexpectedly, seemingly by accident during a conversation. To your great surprise it feels so right, even though you really don’t like to be touched by people you don’t know well, that it’s almost like you don’t even notice, like they have done it a thousand times before and you’re already used to their touch. Their energy seems so familiar to you that is doesn’t feel like an intrusion at all, like their already part of you, like you were once one. It doesn’t feel at all the way it does when most people touch you, even your lover. It is cotton candy soft, warm and it permeates your whole being until it eventually touches your heart. You imagine that it’s what love really feels like, not romantic love, just love.

At times you allow yourself to long for more, to wonder if things could be different, if they’re your soul-mate. You realise that trying to figure out why it is the way it is with them and you will just make you sad and frustrated, making you wish that you could have more of the closeness you’ve already tasted. You choose to appreciate what little contact there has been between and you allow it to become your refuge island in an otherwise stormy and treacherous sea. You choose to stay silent and invisible to them while waiting for signs that they noticed you and feel the way you do.

Who are these people and why do they exist? I would really like to know because one of these people has been in my life for over eight years now.

Water striding...

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 00:18:00 +0000

I’m back here again, skimming the surface of shamanism. I hold no illusions here and I believe that it is naïve to think that you can become a shamanic practitioner by reading a few books or doing a weekend course (even if it sets you back $3000 and is led by a person who trained with a shaman from Native American tribe). I can’t even buy into the courses that take years (and still set you back thousands of dollars) simply because I don’t think most of us Westerners have it in us because of the belief systems we have been brought up with. Yes, there is the odd exception or two but I think we have to see them as rarities and stop kidding ourselves.

However, the more I read about shamanism the more I believe that there are people out there that can heal in the way described and do all the amazing things that are described in the books I read (if they can’t it makes for some really good stories). If all these stories do is to shift the Western materialistic view into a more all encompassing one it’s a good thing. We have sold our souls to materialism and we are paying the ultimate price for it: global warming.

Changing beliefs is probably the most potent healing tool there is. We can continue to concentrate on fixing the shell with mechanical means (i.e. surgery) until the cows come home but I think the in the end it’s our energy that needs to be worked on. That’s right, our energy, not even our minds, our spirits or our emotions. Scientists have proven now that if we break anything down far enough it always is the same thing: energy. What gives things different form is the different vibrations of the energy.

If you consider the last paragraph a load of bull, that’s cool. Most people have however had the experience of walking into a room full of people and just getting a feel of the atmosphere or mood. Or, they have met someone who just gave them the creeps or just made them feel really comfortable without doing anything in particular. How do we pick up on these things? I’d say energy. I have a cat that won’t leave your side if you are ill or feel down. How does he know? I think he feels the energy. He’s normally really high strung but when you are down he projects calm and intent.

I’m bored, bored with the normal perceptions and the hap hazard way we go through life without knowing enough even about ourselves and what makes us tick never mind how to deal with others. I hold no illusions, I will never be a shaman, but I’m curious to know some of the things they know, not to use it on others but just to figure out what we really are. Can you really become invisible to others? I’m sure there are times when you have felt that you are. Is it something about your state of mind that made it so or are people just too busy to notice you? I don’t know, but I want to find out. I want to find out how far you can push the concept of shapeshifting, time travel and reaching places without physically being there. It can be a scary thought but if it’s possible it would be a hell of a ride! It challenges everything we have been brought up to believe which is why it makes it so interesting. The backyard we normally play in with the limited perceptions it allows us to have is not big enough for me anymore, I have to climb the fence! Separation from my husband was the first step in shedding things that were holding me back. Letting go of fear of doing things out of the ordinary was the next. “Knowing” that there isn’t enough time for me to do the things I need to get over the fence is next. There is never enough time and therefore time has to cease to be of importance.

I feel a little like a water strider. I’m skimming the surface but I’m dying to know what’s going on in the waters below me. What’s it like down there and who lives there? What does it look like when you look up from down there up into our world? What are the possibilities there? What are the dangers? What can I learn there? Who will I be there? How could I possibly not be curious about it all……..

Choices......

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Thu, 14 Aug 2008 07:18:00 +0000

For me the last half a year or so has brought enormous changes and I still don’t feel as though I’m hitting the target. What I’ve written here in this blog leaves me cold and wondering why I’m still fluffing over the important stuff in my life and for how long I will keep doing it.

The latest developments in my life have seen my husband move into the ex-husband state well and truly. He’s decided that rather than pursuing me and trying to find ways of getting me back he will give me all the freedom I want and go to Greece to work. It was a move that surprised me, I have to admit. He told me last Sunday but on the day before I was suddenly hit with this enormous sense of freedom and I felt as though I great weight had been lifted off me. Ever since he told me about his plans we have been able to have decent conversations almost as though we are longstanding friends.

It’s there though, the sadness and the grief. I can detect in his voice and I feel it in myself. All the subjects that are now carefully avoided because they could cause arguments, the overly cheerful tone of conversation and the need to be reassured that somehow the love we once shared will always be there, that it wasn’t all in vain and that there’s still hope. I struggle to keep my eye on the ball, having to remind myself what it was that made me call it quits in the first place and what has made me refuse to take him back no matter what he did or promised. I also find myself grieving and battling a real sense of loss. Now I have to face the sad fact that my second marriage failed and try to learn something from it.

It occurred to me that even though it’s silly to grieve for something that you created (it was my choice to separate and stay separated), it is something I have to do. We are so afraid of our feelings, of experiencing any emotional pain whatsoever. Pain cannot hurt us though. It may seem to be a contradiction to say that but emotional pain is perhaps even useful if we view it as a sign post rather than anything else. My grief, my pain, tells me of a fear I have of being alone and unwanted, of being unloved. As this part of my life unravels so are other parts, like the way I think of my career and work in general, and the value it really holds in my life. The way I look at myself as a woman is changing and so is the way I monitor my thoughts. I have come to realise that I spend a lot of time in some sort of fantasy land imaging what it would be like to be in a functioning relationship while romanticising the whole in a big way. I have lived in there, doing that, for decades to cope with a life that I quite frankly haven’t found to be very rewarding so far. Hitting the 40s is well and truly making me face my own inability to create the life I want and that I think I deserve.

The question is now, how do you create the life you want? If you believe all the hype surrounding The Secret and those who believe in the law of attraction the way is to feel it. It’s not as easy as you may think because most of us programmed to not put too much faith in anything. We are well and truly brainwashed into thinking that nothing can come easily to you and that you have to work hard for every single break in life. We are a bunch of “half empty glass” people who rather err on the side of caution. We don’t like to be disappointed. I’m slowly trying to change my thinking there though because to be honest, and this is my only real reason for doing it, working hard with little to show for it in the end but more hard work stinks. I think I would rather believe that things can come easily at this stage, I have nothing to lose in doing so, and if it helps me attract good things into my life all the more power to me and my new way of thinking. If it doesn’t I will deal with it later (and demand an explanation from the Universe and Rhonda Byrne who wrote the book The Secret).

Thinking about finding new love, especially love that will last, is probably the hardest right now. When the body aches to be touched and your soul to be warmed by another’s love and presence it amplifies the loneliness. It’s easy to get impatient and angry, to hold the Universe or the opposite sex responsible.

Here in the Western world (or at least in the city) we all seem to suffer from the need for instant result, anything else just won’t do. If we don’t get instant results we get nervous and suspect or even see it as failure. We work like that, cook like that (if we cook at all), we eat like that, travel like that and treat ourselves, our families and our friends like that. The process and journey is worth nothing; only the result holds value and meaning to us.

So many of us blame our parents for how we feel about ourselves and the lack of perceived success in life, basically for what we have turned out like. I used to do that as well but I have come to the conclusion that it’s a rather fatalistic way of looking at what I have become. At every point, in every moment of our lives, there is always a choice. We can’t always choose what others do to us but we can choose how we perceive what is done to us, the way we remember it and most of all what we learn from it. A man named David Pelzer wrote a book about his childhood and it’s a horrific story of what he endured. Yet, David went on to not only survive but to become successful in life. What makes some people succeed, survive and heal after something like that and what makes others broken, awful and unhappy? I can’t help but think that choice plays a big part in it.

I used to have these awful nightmares about an incident that happened with my first husband. His hands around my neck, the smell of alcohol on his breath and the way he looked at me when he told me that he was going to kill me because I didn’t deserve to live. Every detail of it played back in those dreams. The way I went from feeling fear to pure survival mode with my mind almost calmly starting looking for ways I could get through it alive, to get him to let go of me, to calm down and to hopefully fall into an alcohol induced sleep so that there would be peace again and I would be safe. It’s a state of alert, the adrenalin pumps through you and your senses are heightened to the max. I would experience all that in my dreams. It had a grip on me that I just couldn’t imagine would ever let go. Then someone quite calmly told me one day that I ought to change the way I remembered it all. I thought she was nuts but because of who she was I decided that I would try to while not holding much faith in how well it would work. In fact, I had no faith in it at all. I closed my eyes and very reluctantly went back to that moment and although it was nowhere near as vivid as I would recall it in my nightmares I imagined myself turning into water. As water I trickled through his hands and down the wall. I became a stream that ran down the hallway and out through the gap underneath the front door to freedom. The nightmare never returned and the need to feel like a victim started to dissolve although it would take time to heal all of the emotional wounds that I had.

Perhaps it’s really that simple. Perhaps all we have to do is to change our minds and remain open to the possibilities that are waiting out there. I hope so because the powers at be ought to know that I currently fail to see any other solution to how I feel right now.

Black and White

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Sat, 02 Aug 2008 23:57:00 +0000

Truth be known. Most of us prefer our lives to be lived in black and white. Clear cut lines drawn that we can work within. Labels that we can use for situations and people. Any gray areas are to be avoided because they cause confusion and invoke emotion. Gray areas make us feel something. Gray areas challenge us to choose and to make decisions for ourselves.

I don't like the black and white for too long; I bore easily. I find at work that most people spend an awful lot of time working towards having everything black and white so that they can settle in and just cruise. There's no doubt it makes you feel safe. I have noticed though that my growth as a person is greatly accelerated when I spend time working in the gray areas and accept life's mysteries for what they are: part of life.

My ex told me yesterday that he was sick of spending our separation in the gray area and that he needed things to be black and white. As such he has apparently decided to go back home to the US and leave all this behind. I don't know if he has seized to expect me to be upset over things like this, I hope so. I feel a great sense of relief and a sense of freedom has come over me. I'm still a little afraid of believing that I have finally reached this point but I feel hopeful for the first time in a very long time. I'm not supposed to be dominated and forced to work within the limitations that I have been. My natural state is change and I need to be allowed to function like that or I become dysfunctional. I feel now that I'm on the doorstep of better things to come.

There comes a time.....

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Sat, 02 Aug 2008 04:50:00 +0000

There comes a time, hopefully in everybody's life, when you realize that what you have been doing, this living to please others is never going to get you what you really want and need, that it will never fulfill you. That time has come in my life. It didn't come suddenly, it has been creeping up on me for some time now. The realization that this fear of not being enough in others' eyes that I have lived with for what seems to be for most of my life never has and never will bring me happiness. I cannot possibly please anybody because I have no real idea of what their expectations are and when expectations are not met people will be disappointed.

I want to live every second of my life. I want to feel alive every second of my life. I want to walk around grinning like my life is the best ever every second of my life. I want to experience every second of my life fully and I want to do it in a state of happiness.

Now think about that one for a moment. I want to experience every second of my life fully. Now there's a scary thought because the moment you think it is followed by something like the questions "What if something bad happens to me? How could I possibly want to experience that fully?" Our fear of something bad happening to us is so deeply conditioned in most of us that we never risk changing what we do in fear of bringing ire from some invisible force upon us. We think it will somehow jinx us, bring bad upon us, but the truth is we make ourselves suffer because we continue to live in fear. We live in fear and we are even afraid to care and of our own emotions so we ridicule anyone who shows emotion and we think anyone who is happy is also insane because what is there to be happy about? Life is tough, right? Life is out to get you!

We go to work and do our best to play the politics and please our boss' ego because without that we know we won't get a pay rise next year. If we open up and tell people what we really feel is right and stand up for ourselves we know we will become a target and even lose our jobs. In the meantime though we are so unhappy and stressed we make ourselves ill and our loved ones are suffering as a result. What kind of a life is that?

So in light of this I have decided that I will make a conscious decision to be happy every moment of my life. I will wake up in the morning and decide to be happy. Every time I catch myself not being happy I will again make the decision to be happy and see what that does for me. It can't be any worse than what I've had so far!

Thank God it's Monday

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 10:52:00 +0000

Well, the moon's waning so I'm in the bad mood phase of course. Thank goodness it's new moon soon so that I can start feeling good and be happy again. It's Monday and my day started with me making a perfect cup of coffee only to see it spilled on my hallway carpet. As I picked up the thermo mug off the floor I managed to spill the remaining coffee in the mug all over the front of myself. I was off to a good start, it was well and truly Monday if I had doubted it.

It's miserably cold here in Sydney and I long for company, I long for a man to cuddle up to and share things with. Were it not for my trusty German Shepherd I would probably have kidnapped one off the streets by now but as usual he didn't mind a cuddle and a belly rub. Where would I be without a dog in my life?

I do wonder though, how on earth I am ever going to get back into a relationship again when there's not a single man out there appealing to me except for James Purefoy who's already taken. He's done what I would like to do, he's opted for a much younger squeeze. I figure it's the only way for us people in our 40's to keep staying young and I have to get on the bandwagon here. James is probably onto something. I'm not sure if this plan of mine will succeed but for the moment, while the moon is waning anyway, I will persist in keeping it as my plan. Next week, well who knows how I'll feel about life and James and younger models. Probably more depressed.

Self Discovery....

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Sat, 26 Jul 2008 10:42:00 +0000

This is something I wrote a few weeks after I had separated from my hubby:
For most of my life I have been looking for signs of beauty in me. Countless times I have found myself standing in front of the mirror examining the image on display, searching the face and the body for signs that I am beautiful. More often than not I did not find those signs and the feeling beautiful kept eluding me.

This search for signs of my own beauty has been going on for decades. At times I have looked at photos of a much younger self and found beauty in them although I clearly remember at the time I felt all but beautiful. It made me wonder why I could not at the time see what I see years later or why I was not feeling beautiful at all at the time. I have wondered why there had to be a so much time between the me I would later think was beautiful and the me now that still sometimes stands there and searches the mirror for signs of beauty in myself.

Of course for me finding signs of beauty would mean that I would be lovable and acceptable. Not being beautiful meant that I was not one of the lucky ones who deserved to be loved and to have many close friends in my life. Not being beautiful meant that I was not measuring up and that I was forever doomed to hope that one day I would magically change and blossom, that I would one day know without doubt that I am beautiful and therefore worthy. Everything else would fall into place then, but until then I had to wait because it was not going to happen because I was not beautiful enough.

Today I went for my usual Saturday/Sunday two hour walk with my trusty German shepherd (who seems to be of the opinion that I am very beautiful and most definitely lovable and acceptable, and worthy of his close friendship). I brought my iPod this time and with Oliver Shanti’s Medicine Power streaming through the headphones into my ears I walked in a world where my pace was set by drums and gentle Native American chanting. I find with that with Medicine Power I am like a tree that can not help reaching ever taller to get closer to the sky so I walk taller and prouder (and my dog loves this calm assertive me because then I am a pack leader he can trust and be really proud to walk with). My fellow travellers were an eclectic bunch of lone walkers, dog walkers, cyclists and families varying in size and generational span. There seemed to be more smiling faces than normal out there in that bunch today and as I walked on I allowed myself to let the wind pass through me so that I could feel not only tall and proud but also light and breezy.

On our return home I gave my dog a bowl of fresh water and seconded a bottle of cold water from the fridge for myself. Dog and I shared the simple pleasure of cool water after exercise for a moment before he flopped down on his favorite spot in the hallway and I lowered myself into a warm bath to soak a body satisfied from physical exertion. With the echo of the drums and chanting still gently sounding in my head I closed my eyes and relaxed in the bath while the warm water caressed me. It is a simple pleasure that never fails to satisfy. Something stirred me to open my eyes to leave that pleasure though.

A small mirror balances on the bath tub taps and it was in that mirror I saw beauty staring right back at me through clear blue eyes that seemed to reflect the sky that I so often let my eyes scan for signs of my beloved ravens. Those blue eyes rested on pillows made of rosy red cheeks flushed from a walk in the fresh air. Full pink lips formed a gentle smile that softened a face surrounded by a cascade of blonde long hair that seemed to be made of rays from the sun itself. The lines under the eyes that previously had looked like signs of aging now spoke of years of smiles and laughter. There it was – a perfect picture of beauty lovingly locking eyes with me not from a distant past but now in this moment. There I was in all my glory and in all my beauty.

But what was I really looking at there in the mirror? Was it the external features that I just described to you in few words or was it something else? What I realized as I sat there and studied that glorious image in the mirror while it seemed to look back at me with the same curiosity I looked at it with, was that I was looking past all that is the shell that is my body and in this case my face. I realized that I had seen through all the masks I wear and what I saw was the glorious me that lives in the center of my being, that ever beautiful, loving, joyful and peaceful part of me that always is whether I allow myself to acknowledge it or not. I had seen the me that is always going to be beautiful no matter how much my shell is worn out and carries the signs of the life I have lived. I had seen my own beauty and worthiness and better yet it was looking at me with all the love and acceptance I would ever have wanted someone to give to me so that I could feel whole. In that moment I was a perfect being, perfectly worthy and perfectly peaceful and perfectly loved. I was me and from this moment on I will always know that it is who I am whether I choose to see it in the mirror or not.

Organizing moods

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 00:40:00 +0000

I have decided, to make it easier both for myself and for those around me, that my moods will now be tied to the moon phases.

During the waning of the moon I will be in a bad mood, seem withdrawn but emotional and I will shun human contact.

During the waxing of the moon I will be sociable, approachable, happy and able to apply logic.

It may mean that people start to suspect that I’m bipolar but once they get the hang of the pattern they will know when to avoid me and when it's safe to socialize with me.

Finding a good prospect

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 00:38:00 +0000

Is it really so hard to find a good prospect? My gut feeling right now is that it would be a lot harder at 41 than it was at 20. But then on the other hand (every cloud has a silver lining) there should be a surplus of men that are coming out of relationships at that age a bit wiser and a bit more willing to bend over backwards for the right girl. At least I hope so, or else all may be lost in my case.

I have spent a lot of time recently thinking about what it is I want in a relationship. The wish list is quite impressive and I sometimes pity the poor bloke who turns up to apply for the position. Not only will my bar be raised a lot higher and my tolerance a lot lower now, he will also have to get past my friend Liljana Marijana, a fierce Yugoslavian lady who has very little tolerance for amorous guys. A full mental health, credit and criminal record check may get them an interview but during their probationary period they will be closely watched. I find it somewhat comforting to have this extra security because heavens above knows that I have been fly paper for freaks in the past and I need all the protection I can get.

My friend Markus Antonius says that women seems to “keep it together better” than men most of the time, especially if they are mothers which he says is because they have to keep track of the kids as well and you can’t afford to lose the plot then. Men on the other hand don’t seem to be able to do that, he says, even when they have to take care of kids. I think it’s his roundabout way of saying that men needs us womenfolk a lot more then we need them. I'm not so sure that it's a comforting thought.

No Sex in the City (or no sex makes me shitty)

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 00:36:00 +0000

Sex. Never do you want it more than when you have no one to have it with. When I was still with my husband I used to dread the moments when it came to having sex. I used to pray that it wouldn’t be the same old thing and that it would be over and done with quickly. Not that I didn’t want to have sex it’s just that it usually end up the same or in an attempt to make it more “special” someone tries to make it a marathon sex event. I’m quickly getting to the stage where I’ll settle for a smouldering look from a tired fellow commuter on the afternoon train.

I never enjoyed marathon sessions that inevitably leaves you unable to walk properly for days although I do enjoy prolonged foreplay. (I’m a woman, you didn’t expect any different, did you?) See making out is hugely underrated. I have no idea when it got a bad reputation but it’s really more fun than the act itself I feel and I say that because having sex usually means that lots of parts of your bodies end up being neglected whereas when you are making out you have to pay more attention to them. It’s an innovative and creative thing I feel.

However I could talk about sex for days now that I’m not getting any because it’s suddenly riveting stuff. Nothing gets the juices flowing like the lack thereof.

When everything’s heading south (like a sun starved Scandinavian)

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 00:25:00 +0000

When I was younger I used to hate when men looked at me in that special way that makes you feel like all they’re thinking about is humping your leg.

Now that I am forty-something and I find that while my looks are fading fast my need for attention hasn’t, and I actually miss those looks being thrown my way. When you forty-something you’re suddenly overlooked, almost invisible and no one realizes the painful truth of it more than I. I realise that I have wasted a good twenty years spurning these men when I should have been “working the room” so to speak, making contacts for the future. Problem is that I have so perfected the death stare over the years that it now comes completely natural to me. It’s as much part of me as the cup of coffee I need in the morning to get started and it will be levelled at any poor sod who has the bad taste of looking at me like they even remotely are thinking about doing the horizontal mamba with me. You can’t blame me. It’s hard to forge a serious career when you are a young blonde blue-eyed little thing which apparently screams anything but business, especially if your chosen field is engineering. It teaches one to become a snarly witch if for no other reason than to make people take notice. Because of this I probably don’t stand a chance in the dating game nowadays because I’m way too cynical and sarcastic, and I have realized that I will now have to “work for it”. Ugh!

So let me tell all you youngsters out there (on the off chance that someone is actually reading this) that as time passes you will eventually be faced with a dilemma or two. You will be wrinklier and parts of you that you didn’t think could possibly sag actually will (you will without any doubt for the first time in your life have no doubts about gravity’s existence). In fact, everything on you seems to be heading south with the same enthusiasm as a Scandinavian seeking sun and warmer temperature after a long dark winter. You can’t eat or drink like you used to. Your body refuses to take up positions it formerly did with ease. Parts of your body also start hurting which in itself is not a real problem; the real problem is they don’t stop hurting, it becomes chronic thing. I guess you have to be grateful for that because at least you know they’re there because by now you can’t be sure; your vision is starting to fail at an alarming rate. If you were ugly to start with this is the time to count your blessings because you have nothing to lose. Those of you who were “blessed” with good looks are at a severe disadvantage because your looks will be fading fast and you will be faced with having to make decisions about ways to keep your looks that could potentially make Extreme Makeover look like child’s play, never mind the cost.

Forty-something Reality Check

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 00:23:00 +0000

Let me define the forty-something (or at least my forty-something) reality check for you: Two of the people you have recently hired as writers on your team turn out to have mothers who are basically or exactly the same age as you are! These people you previously thought of as peers and colleagues are now “kids” which means that they think that you are not some hip career woman that they can model themselves on (both of them being female). You are someone who is like their mum and worst of all you dress like her too, like a hippy!

None the wiser (but oh so cynical)

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 00:21:00 +0000

So, after 20 years in Long Term Relationship Land I’m none the wiser as to how the male gender of our species functions. It’s true. I’m completely clueless. It’s sad to say but I don’t even know what motivates them, nonetheless what they want. They all seem to want to be loved but in reality only seem to need sex. It seems to be that intimacy equals sex to them. When you break up to them they are very quick to point out however that you’re the one who withdrew emotionally and physically, that you didn’t kiss or hug anymore, that you didn’t tell them that you loved them. I don’t get that. If you’re a man and you are reading this, can you please help me get it? You could save some poor sod a whole heap of trouble here. I’m saying that if you can’t do it for me, do it for him!

In no man’s land

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 00:13:00 +0000

I’ve been married twice. My first marriage lasted ten years before it ended in divorce and my second marriage lasted seven years before we separated.

That’s where I’m at; in separation no man’s land. I’m in that lovely stage when my “ex” still calls, e-mails and SMSes me professing his undying love to me. I find myself wondering why he couldn’t do this while I was still interested, while I still had hope that it was going to be a lifelong union, that he was “the one”. When I asked him about this he told me that it’s because he had given up on us before. Apparently my need for sleeping seven to eight hours a day was completely annoying and left him without hope; it made him feel neglected. It’s completely beside the point apparently that he could only sleep about four hours a night because of this post traumatic stress disorder. It’s also completely beside the point that he wasn’t working and that I not only spent eight hours five days a week at work but I also spent three hours a day traveling to and from work.

To be honest, I was exhausted which is simply no excuse for not being all perky and ready to party at the end of the day I gather. Do I sound bitter? I guess I am. I never came home to a cooked meal or to see my house properly cleaned but who am I to judge even though he wasn’t working. How dare I ask that he sit down with my daughter to do homework when she needs help because of her learning difficulties? I expected too much of this other human being and that's the sole reason my second marriage failed.

However, I blame no one here but myself because the only person who sold me short was me. In both my marriages I have “settled” because I thought I could do no better than that, that I was somehow so despicable and worthless that I had to take what was thrown at me and be content with it. In both my marriages I have ended up with broken men whom I somehow, with some la-la land thinking thoroughly applied, thought that I (Wonder Woman) could help fix. I probably even thought, deep down inside some dark messy corner of my mind, that they would be grateful for the sacrifices I made in my self sacrificing quest to help them. However, they didn’t want my help. At best they wanted me to love them while they would be allowed to be their own self accepted immature selves. That’s the problem. I wanted them to grow up but men seldom do grow up, do they, or did I get that wrong about them too?

It’s interesting to be in this no man’s land of separation in a sense because you realize that humanity are basically divided into two teams: the hopeless romantics who think that you will never be whole without that special someone (and he’s out there desperately seeking me) and the hopeless cynics who advises you to get toy boys (in my case boys, although a lesbian friend or two would possibly advise me to switch camps) if you feel a strong need for human intimacy and to make sure you swap them out often so that you don’t run the risk of getting attached to them. It’s also surprising to see who falls into what category. People who are in happy relationships don’t always promote the idea of there being such a thing as a happy relationship.

Back to Single Life– Geronimo!

noreply@blogger.com (Jaguar Moon) — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 23:18:00 +0000

I started a couple of blogs about a year ago then promptly left blogging behind again without so much looking over my shoulder. What did I have to say that could possibly be of any interest to anyone? I left it and I left my dream to write because when it comes down to it, I love to write, I love to paint pictures with words although it is at times a very painful process. Last night I decided to chase up my old blogs and they were still there, no doubt still unread by a single soul. I read the posts and I actually enjoyed reading them. It was interesting to see where I was a year ago. At lunch today I decided just to sit down and pretend blog (free write a bit). It became an “inspirathon” and it poured out of me as though I had not been allowed to speak or write for years. I have no idea if any of it is any good but I have decided that it must not matter what this time, that if it is complete garbage you, my dear reader, do not have to keep reading it. I’m comfortable in the knowledge that you’ll have enough sense to use whatever means available to you to get away from this page and that you will waste no time in doing so....

I'm at a junction in my life. 41 years old, recently separated from my husband of seven years. It’s my second marriage. My first marriage lasted ten years and in my humble opinion it was a miracle I hung in there for that long (and that it didn’t kill me). Common sense should have seen me leave it all behind a lot sooner. If you stick around and read I will tell you more about that later no doubt but be warned, it’s not a very nice story.

Problem is that as much as I didn’t repeat the same mistake the second time around things still didn’t go all that well. Not only should I have been wiser the second time around but I should also have dealt with things in an entirely different way. I didn’t though and despite that I will say Non Je Ne Regrette Rien (I have nothing to regret) as Edith Piaf once sang. We live and learn, eh? The truth is that I like me as I am today, although faulty and aging, and I wouldn’t be who I am today were it not for the experiences I have had so far in life. And so, I feel grateful, for some peculiar reason, while something keeps nagging at me telling me that I should be bitterly disappointed with myself. (Mum, is that you?)

In case you're wondering, my other blogs are dead now. I did the kindest thing I could do for them; I had them put down. There was no other option available I realized. May they rest in peace, unread, unloved and ultimately unwanted but safe in the knowledge that they provided me with the launchpad for this blog.