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.

Forgiveness Manifested

Forgiveness the long way around

The other day, I got yelled at–rather berated–by a woman on the phone.  In my position, hanging up on the bitch isn’t an option.  She called me stupid, asked if I was new, and if I was dropped on my head as a baby.  I felt myself bubbling up inside like magma under the surface, and I was ready to blow.  Oh, the things I wanted to say to her.  But I kept my mouth shut, solved her problem without so much as a thank you, and I maintained my cool.

Until later.

All that night and the following day, I envisioned the retorts I could have dealt out to that evil woman.   I lost sleep.  I cried and lamented about the lack of compassion she felt for a person whom she had called for help.  I saw her face contorted with hurt with my cruel and vindictive statements, the way she had contorted mine.  And I knew that these thoughts had to stop, for I would only be passing on those horrible emotions to someone else.

Forgiveness even though I didn’t want to

So in the darkness of my bedroom, while trying to sleep, I forgave her for her actions. I was sure she had a bad day, and was lashing out. And I remembered times in my past where I’d done the same thing to someone else. And I let her, and the anger that had been lingering inside me, go. And I fell asleep

The Aftermath of Forgiveness

Well, a few days later, she called again. She spoke to me in kind, sweet tones, with another problem to be solved, but this time with humility. I never mentioned how my feelings were hurt by our last encounter, and I kept my tone professional and warm. And we finished the conversation with “Thank You” and “Have a wonderful day.”

There was no need to gloat about how manifestation works for me, because I know that those who focus on the positive receive it. It just took me a little mental reorganization to get there.

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.”

The Gossip Boomerang

Admit it…we all do it.  There’s the really annoying girl with bad habits two cubicles down that you just can’t wait to hear about.  After all, if she misbehaves on Friday night and your friends were there to see the debacle, of course they’ll talk about it.  And because it’s juicy information, you have to listen.  You may or may not pass the information on, but if it’s that torrid, wouldn’t you just be the informed one at the next gossip gathering?

Yet in this world of expanding awareness, I would implore you to think a step further than your immediate gratification.  If your friends are willing to talk to you about someone’s actions while the subject of the gossip isn’t there to defend herself, why wouldn’t they talk about yours while you weren’t there either?

Clean as the driven snow, are you?  Show me someone that truly is.

Now perhaps one in a thousand doesn’t really give a crap whether others talk about him or not.  But odds are, you’re one of those who does care.  For the rest of us, gossip is nothing more than disrespect for another person–and we partake in it for one of three reasons:

• It makes you feel better about yourself
• It takes attention away from yourself
• It brings attention to yourself

Let me explain each of these briefly:

It makes you feel better about yourself

Yes, you know what’s happening with ev–erybody and all your snitches trust you with this clandestine information…and in order to show others that you are in with the IN people, you demonstrate this knowledge to anyone who will stand around long enough.

It takes attention away from yourself

If you can dish out the dirt on someone else, maybe those who question your character or its actions may overlook your faults.

It brings attention to yourself

Love to be the center of the crowd, do you?  Did you bring your own soapbox to the party or did you use the host’s?  Chances are you love to be heard, and dealing out trash about others brings ears closer that may not have ever given you a chance otherwise.
Many years ago,  I visited a sports bar after work for a drink with a few co-workers.  I danced one line dance with a beer in my hand, played a video game and left 20 minutes later.  When I returned to work the next day to winks, nudges and cries to “show me more!” I finally had to ask someone why everyone was acting that way.

“Don’t you remember?  Maybe you were too drunk to recall dancing on the bar in your bra.”

Wow.  That wasn’t me, for sure.  But someone decided to play Whisper Down the Lane, and look what happened to my quiet night with one beer.

So next time you hear the gossip flying, stand up for the absent person and defend her.  Or if you can’t do that, walk away.  She probably only had one beer and went home anyway.

Do you accuse?

As humans, we need others to exist.  Short from being the guy who lives alone in the cabin on the mountain, we need interactions with others to live a fulfilled life.  And unlike the guy in the cabin, who probably takes nothing for granted because he must exist by his own hard work, we in civilization often take others for granted.

Think of the last time you had a disagreement with another.  Did you listen to the other person’s side of the argument or were you just waiting to more firmly state your own case?  Chances are, you did not.  For it is our ego’s responsibility to ensure that we withhold its standing, whether that entail being “right,” being “the more powerful”, or being “in control” of the situation.  You may have accused your partner of acting in a certain way, or of using unfair tactics.

When you accuse, you are taking love out of the picture, and letting your ego take precedence over the situation.  So unless you would like to chop wood and live like the guy on the mountain, remember that relationships are the most important aspect of life, and really the only reason we are here in the first place.

When you accuse, you remove love.

Using Guilt as a Last Resort

My son recently asked me to play basketball with him.  I haven’t played basketball since 3rd grade phys-ed, and even then I was the laughing stock when we got back to the locker room.  So when he asked me to play, my memories rushed to the forefront and took over my tongue.  I found every excuse I could to delay the game:  I was tired, I just ate, it was time to cook dinner.  But he kept asking, and I continued with my excuses.  Finally, my son welled up with tears and said “You never spend time with me.  I keep asking you and you want to do all your stuff and not play with me.”  He stormed off to his room and locked the door.

Before I went in to smooth things over, I spoke to my partner, who spilled the beans.

“He told me that he was using the thing that works best on you:  guilt.”

My own son was using all of the lessons I taught him about living a guilt-free life against me.  Here I have spent years teaching others about how to live a life without guilt, and he had jumped the fence and honed my techniques for his own benefit.  Now I’m not releasing myself from blame here, because if I had taken the time to actually confront my own issues and enjoy the time with my son then he never would have had to use guilt against me.

Does anyone use these techniques on you?  It’s up to you to recognize the signs that someone is trying to reach you, and this may have been their last ditch attempt to get through to you.

See more guilt-related posts on TheGuiltFreeLife.com

Alibis: To lie or not for a friend

My partner has a friend Roderick* that–and he blames it on his culture–has more than one love interest.  More than two love interests.  In fact, he has a half-dozen love interests, of all types and scattered throughout the United States.  He has so many that we have to define them by their geographical location just to keep them straight.

Now far be it from me to judge anyone’s lifestyle, since I believe we are here to create whichever experience we choose.  Yet there have been times when my (only!) partner has been the excuse for why Roderick is not where he was supposed to be at a certain time, or why he disappears for a weekend here and there.

Our debate began when I gave him the old adage “What if that happened to you?”  What if it were my friends lying to him about my whereabouts when I was with another lover?  His answer?

“Well it would be different if I knew these women.”

So basically, because he doesn’t have awareness of their feelings on the matter, he feels a certain disconnection from their lives, and thus justifies his willingness to support his friend in his time of need.  Of course, this sent me up in arms at my partner’s lack of sensitivity, and then I sat back and thought about it.  If Roderick chooses to divide his love life among six women, and the women trust him implicitly (adding a chuckle here at that), then aren’t they all choosing their situation anyway?

Now I’m not a proponent of lying, but rather that if you were put in this situation, that you would consider the choices made by all parties, including your own.  You could value your friend’s relationship more than those he is deceiving, or you could value your own character more and choose not to cover the actions of another–and ask him to find an alternate alibi.  It’s your choice.

*Of course I had to change his name…