Living a Guilt Free Chaotic Life

Chaos as a Way of Life

Do you ever come home from work and experience this in your first ten minutes through the door:  you are attacked by the dogs, face a whining family who can’t find anything to eat despite a kitchen full of food, skid across socks on the floor, deal with piled-up mail, answer the ringing phone and encounter still-unmade beds?

I deal with this every day.  After overtime on the job, I drive home in the solitude of my car (sometimes I don’t want to get out!) only to arrive home to what should be my sanctuary, but is rather a screaming zoo of chaos.  I can barely take a breath before something else is requiring my attention, and there I stumble, one shoe still on my foot, to put out another virtual fire between demanding loved ones.

So last week, I decided to take a weekend away from all of this, and go with a friend to Las Vegas.  I had my own room, with a big fluffy bed covered in pillows, room service and curtains that blocked out the light so I could sleep late.  Three whole days to myself with no one making demands of me!

Solitude isn’t what I expected it to be

Silence. Peace. Opportunity to go within. Freedom.
Boredom!

I was lost there, with the endless shopping and sightseeing and visual treats available to me. There were so many opportunities that none of them seemed appealing–because I had no one to share them with.

Missing the Chaos

I longed to return to the noise and the craziness, because that’s where my true interaction was. Not only was I missed at home, but they missed me; for they are an integral part of me, and I had left my most integral part of behind.

Enjoying your Routine

So next time you are faced with the temper tantrums, the spilled spaghetti and towels on the floor, remember that your presence plays a large part in the growth and community of others. Their–and your–needs are important, of course. A little quiet may–or may not!–refresh you.

Learning Not to be Offended by Others’ Habits

The increasing popularity of electronic cigarettes led me to read more about the safety benefits of using them vs traditional tobacco cigarettes.  In a statement last January, Dr. Jonathan Winickoff of Harvard Medical School called the Crown7 “a thousand times safer than cigarettes.”  You can see the article here: ‘Just like the real thing’: Businesses push ‘e-cigarettes’.  My topic here isn’t whether e-cigarettes are or are not safer than tobacco, but rather how people judge those who smoke at all.

Reading the comments left on the site after the article, the page was laden with forked-tongue remarks about how weak and pathetic smokers are.  These people have decided that if you smoke, you have decided to purposely disgrace humanity with your presence in the form of second-hand smoke and tar-stained hands.  You were created to offend others simply by your habit.  Where is the compassion for those who may be struggling with a habit that’s tougher to kick than heroin?

Again, my argument here is not whether second-hand smoke is dangerous (although several recent studies have claimed that the dangers are not as real as once thought), but rather why people must feel offended at the choices of another.  Of course, smokers–along with drinkers, and those who shove down three cheeseburgers at McDonalds, and those who crack their knuckles, and those who drink wine and get behind the wheel of their car, or those that slip out an expletive now and then, or those caught by surprise by public flatulence–should keep their habits to themselves.

How many of us does that leave, then, with no habits that may offend someone?

And why are people looking so hard to be offended?  Is it because they want to elevate their own self-worth by attempting to diminish another’s?  Are we projecting here?

Simply put, if one is content with oneself, then there is no need to be offended by another’s behaviour–ever.

Balancing Time

Living is so much fun with all the vast possibilities it allows us.  In one day, you could learn about modern art, learn how to make exotic drinks fit for mini umbrellas, sign up for a Mandarin language class, and experiment with a new sake and Sapporo combination.  And during the slow times, you can dream about having a show on the Travel Channel, plan your next book, and research zip lining in your next tropical destination.  Yet when is your mind just too full to consider any more possibilities? My mind?  Full all the time with all the things I’d love to do.

Sometimes we have to consider how much extra time there is in our day and make decisions as to what is most important to us.  For despite all the beautiful opportunities presented to us, there’s still only so much our minds can handle.   What happens is that when we make too many plans, nothing gets done. Because although we start our new projects with verve and vigor, often we realize that all of those other things we’ve started before haven’t been finished yet–and now we’re overloaded with tasks that seem like chores.

So despite all of the wonderful stuff we can learn and do, start one and finish it so you can add another accomplishment to your list.  After all, there will always be something else to start.

Profiting from Another’s Misfortune

Last week I crossed another goal off of my list.  Since I was 6 years old, I have always wanted a horse.  So when a good friend found us a smoking deal on an 8-year old Arabian mare, I was ecstatic.  We would share the horse since we each lack some of the requirements to fully care for a horse by ourselves.  We were excited to give her a safe home, for she had been penned up in a small stall for 2 years, with nowhere to stretch her legs or exercise.  When I asked why she’d been neglected for so long, I heard the story:

Her owner was a young pre-teen, who with her older sister had shared the horse, showing her in local Western-discipline horse shows.  When the younger sister fell ill with cancer, the horse became a sorrowful reminder of a happier family life as more pressing issues prevailed.  After two years, the little girl succumbed to the disease, and the family lost interest in keeping her.  Hence the smoking deal, but to me it came with a dose of guilt for being so ecstatic about adding her to my family under such circumstances.

This brings up the question of whether it’s OK to feel joy when you know that you’ve obtained something due to another’s misfortune.   Although I played no part in this family’s life or the passing of their daughter, it still hurts to see our new mare look longingly at the two little girls that live next door to our new pasture.  We can see the sadness in her eyes, and we wonder if we will ever be able to replace this gentle beast’s good memories–of happy, laughing little riders–with equally happy new memories.

I will keep you posted.

When Your Countrymen Show their True Faces

Last week I was in Panama, which is known for a large presence of ex-pats from the United States.  Although most of the ex-pats that choose to move there permanently–for the near-American lifestyle without the conspicuous consumerism and general selfishness of its North American counterpart–were kind and like-hearted lovers of life, the visitors who were there for a short time stuck out like sore thumbs among the soft-spoken and humble Panamanians.  Being an American who was visiting with an intention to retire there, I was stuck in the middle, yet I bordered on sympathy for the natives who suffered from the derision, disrespect and condescension of my visiting fellow countrymen.

“If Panama is going to make it, they have to step it up.  This service stinks.”

“See this thing the Indians made?  It’s cut out of a nut called the tagua.  I think it’s ugly, but if you have some aunt somewhere that likes this kind of stuff, you can buy it here.”

“This place is so behind the times.  I don’t know how people can live like this.”

These were some of the statements I collected, and cringed at hearing, on my recent stay in Panama.

Although I love my country, I was shocked and disgusted at the treatment those people endured from the tourists visiting their homeland.  They were expected to speak English, and if they didn’t, then they were fair game to be discussed in the presence of those that did.

My question  to them and to anyone else who would suggest that all people should adopt our (insane and unhealthy) lifestyle:

Why don’t you stay home if you like it so much?  Why bother traveling?

The key to guilt-free travel is to embrace the differences from the place in which we normally exist, drink in the uniqueness of the lifestyle and leave a benevolent footprint.  Let’s thank our hosts and return with positive experiences to pass on to those at home.

Prejudice at the Gym

I work out at a gym that is full of stereotypes.  There’s the “meatheads” that pump up their biceps and then spend their rest time flexing them in front of the mirror.  There’s the college girls with the sports bra and low-rise yoga pants and sculpted stomachs.   Teased-up ponytailed lithe fairy yoga girls and over-aerobicized models lacking child-bearing hips.  Of course there’s normal people, too, with oversized t-shirts and sweaty backs toting their bottled water from machine to machine.

But there’s one regular denizen of my gym who was sure to send me into a tizzy every time I saw her.  She is maybe 5′2″, 90 pounds, with smooth tanned skin and size 56 DDD additions to her chest that she has a difficult time covering, if she had an inkling to attempt covering them at all.  Smacking gum like a junior-high student, she would work with the free weights, the exercise ball, the cable machines, all the time viewing herself in the ample mirrors.  Everyone–especially the meatheads–knows her, and she is jovial to anyone that speaks to her.  She never speaks to me, since I spend most of my time glaring at her and never attempted to strike up a conversation.  Of course my boyfriend knows her well, because they use the same machines in the northeast corner of the gym.

She’s a stripper–no surprise– but to me she was a threat for no good reason.  For she embodied the kind of person that spent all of her time focusing on her external appearance in order to please others.  After all, that’s how she makes her money,  pleasing others with the body she spends so much time perfecting.  She was the embodiment to me of the perfect little love doll that every man wanted purely for pleasure; and that to me was somehow sleazy, undermining healthy relationships with the allure of easy sex.  But as I watched this woman so different from me, I recognized a trigger in myself from some past experience where I had felt like I was not enough–and I redirected my thoughts to remind myself that we are all one.  She was simply different than me, but still a human with wants and needs and issues.  Perhaps she wasn’t the Jezebel I wanted her to be.  For all I knew she was putting herself through law school, or paying her grandmother’s nursing home expenses and dancing was a way to make that happen with the gifts she was given.

So a few days ago, I stopped glaring at her, and started smiling at her.  I haven’t received a smile back yet, but I am sure it will come in time when she realizes that I accept her for who she is, not what she looks like or how she earns her living.

Saying No to Yourself

It seems like when we were kids, we heard “no” far more often than we ever heard “yes.”  Of course, I know that it was in our own best interest that our parents made these decisions on our behalf, since they were protecting us from things and situations that we didn’t know were harmful.  But to a kid, it’s just a bummer to be shot down when our thirst for learning and new experiences is at an all-time high.  So when we grow up, we don’t want to have to say no to ourselves…after all, we are making decisions for ourselves now, and we are willing to accept the consequences for our poor decisions.

This, of course, leads to all sorts of vices, as many of our decisions are made for the purposes of instant gratification–ask anyone with a sizable handbag collection and I’m sure they will concur–rather than what’s really best for us.  We don’t want to miss out on any situations that could bring us joy or freedom; but this can lead to decisions that we later regret.

Take a serious night of drinking for example, or the Ding Dong-eating binge one night when those little black and white rolled cakes just looked too good to leave any in the box.  And then the next day comes along, and we wish we had said “no” to ourselves much like our parents had.  And what’s worse, we don’t learn the first time we do it, either.  It can take multiple examples of the same miserable experience to learn that some actions just don’t serve us.  If perhaps we could learn from our experience the first time, then when that second chance at failure is presented to us, we can make an alternate decision–which may actually include the word “no.”

Guilt Free Travel: Are Handouts Necessary?

I remember the first time I saw a leper.

Although it’s on the decline thanks to modern medicine, leprosy is alive and kicking in many third world countries.  I was in Morocco, and the man sitting (armless, by the way) on the dirty street corner smiled at me with barely 3 teeth remaining in his mouth.  I was in a hurry to meet a wool rug merchant who was offering me a private showing of his best handmade rugs, and I didn’t want to be late.  I quickly smiled back to the leper and was on my way.

But it isn’t merely the disease-stricken that drew my attention on that and other trips.  It was the kids running after me on the remote island of Lombok when I rode in on the back of a truck.  There were six other people on the truck with me, but the kids knew to thrust their hands out to me rather than the other visitors.  Perhaps it was my snow-white skin, or the fact that I even gave them the attention at all;  but there it was, that compelling feeling that I had to give to anyone extending a hand out for help.

And so here we begin a thread on how we can enjoy guilt-free travel no matter where we end up.  For no matter which country you visit–which includes our own, if you care to look for it–there will be financial disparity between the citizens.  And unless you are whisked off to the Ritz Carlton immediately upon landing your Gulfstream, then you are likely to have exposur to those less fortunate than you.

I will be leaving for Panama on June 21, 2009, and will be reporting from there about our travels and how we handled the poverty surrounding us.

The Imperfect Path to Enlightenment

If you’re like me, fully self-actualized and near perfect (NOT!), then you have all of the time in the world to spend on the path to enlightenment.

Just like me, you get up at 3:30am, meditate for 30 minutes, practice your tai chi and yoga for another 90 minutes, and eat your vegan breakfast with spirulina before you cook the rest of the day’s meals and then sit down at your perfectly-organized desk for a day’s work in complete concentration.

If you weren’t laughing at the beginning of this post, you probably are now.  But really, I do know someone like that.  Of course she is a Tibetan nun who is supported by a group of kind and loving followers.  Even worse, she doesn’t even do her own dishes, and if she drops something on the floor someone else picks it up for her.

The rest of us just don’t live that way.  But does that mean that we can’t follow some different path to enlightenment?  What if we could set a goal to meditate sometime in the day, even if it’s in the car before we get out for our latte.  Or to write in our journal about what we’ve learned about the human condition as we nod off over our writing utensil?  Is that good enough for God?

Why wouldn’t it be?
After all, if God had wanted us all to follow the same path, then he wouldn’t have created so many different ones to tempt us.  We wouldn’t have been given free choice at all.  So if you’re in self-flagellation mode about your imperfect path to enlightenment, thank God that he gave you so many choices to get there, even if you can’t get up at 3:30 in the morning.

Does your “present moment” always include a computer screen?

For those of us who spend an inordinate amount of time on the computer, a word of advice:

Not everyone does.

Just a reminder that people need real love, and that includes taking the time to turn off your computer (yes, Twitter will still be there when you sign back on) and spend the time to actually interact with your loved ones face to face.

I used to think that I was actually spending time with my loved ones; after all, they were in the same room as me and they were just watching TV, so what did it matter if I was playing Mafia Wars while I was with them?  What seemed like simple multi-tasking to me was actually inflicting much more harm than I imagined on my relationships.  I forgot there for a moment that giving full attention to someone means just that–ALL of me, not just the part of me that wasn’t playing Mafia Wars.
Big lesson learned, and thankfully it was before too much damage had been done.  Turn off the computer and interact once in a while.  You will be amazed at how your relationship will flourish.

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