Spirited Woman Blogger Team

Guest Blogger - D. Malone - Your Perception is/vs Your Reality

What color is green to you? Does it have a little bit of yellow or blue in it? Is it a warm or a cool color? Does “green” make you think of the color of grass or the rainforest? The color green you see is your perception and your reality. Years ago I learned that just because it is someone else’s perception does not make it my reality and does not make theirs wrong.

Our perception is our reality with the operative word being “our.” Sometimes I think the hardest thing we do as humans is to realize that the word “our” is not the same as “your” and be okay with it. If we open our eyes, and mind, we are able to celebrate the diversity and knowledge derived from it.

One of my favorite movie scenes is from City of Angels when Nicholas Cage’s character asked Meg Ryan’s character what the pear tasted like. She asked if he hadn’t ever had a pear and he responded by saying he wanted to know what it tasted like to her. How powerful. He was providing her an opportunity to give voice to her experience, her reality in relation to the pear, how it felt and tasted in her mouth. How it tasted to him and his experience in eating the pear would not have been the same, even if his character was not an angel.

I have actually applied a version of that line to simple things in my life to have a better understanding of my perception…my reality. When I do things I consciously ask myself questions about my experience. When I shower I might ask, “How does the water feel running down my face?”

There is an old saying about walking a mile in my shoes. However, even if you did walk a mile in my shoes you still would not have the same experience. I might have a corn or I might be flat footed. Although we may take the same path in my shoes your interpretation of walking a mile in my shoes can not be the same as my reality, our past experiences are not the same and they do factor in. Our experiences can be shared with one another and may be we will have some commonalities, but for the most part our journeys will be personal and different.

After walking a mile in my shoes my perception of being a Spirited Woman is being in touch with the essence of my being, acknowledging all living things, and breathing deeply.

- D. Malone,  http://www.survivingthemurderofself.com
Click here to read more of D. Malone's posts.

D. Malone is passionate about the healing and spiritual empowerment of women. As an author and public speaker she encourages women to reclaim and maintain their truths, their identity. Malone is the author of Green: Surviving the Murder of Self. She has her M.A. in Counseling and is working towards her Ph.D. in Women’s Spirituality from the California Institute of Integral Studies. To learn more about D. Malone please visit: survivingthemurderofself.com.

September Songs

Image by artist Nicholas Simmons.

By all of these lovely tokens, September days are here, With summer's best of weather, and autumn's best of cheer. -- Helen Hunt Jackson, author and activist, 1830-1885

Are you ready for the fast-approaching change of seasons, the cooler weather, the glorious colors of the changing leaves, the pumpkin pie and apple cobbler, the turtleneck sweaters and wool slacks, the football games, the sense that summer's temporary madness is over and that everything's "back on track"?

I know I am! My tolerance for summer's heat and humidity is minimal, at best. Send up a cheer!  Here comes my second-favorite season (spring is my all-time favorite, I must admit).

September is a wonderful month for recharging and renewing our spirits, re-examining our assumptions, rejuvenating our friendships and our relationships with family, reinventing ourselves, if need be.

Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year 5771 begins on September 9th -- with all that a New Year implies for undertaking a great new beginning. Then on September 22, it's the "official" beginning of fall -- farewell to summer, and a hearty welcome to wonderful autumn. And September 29 is a special day of celebration for me personally, since it was on September 29, 2001, that Ed and I married and embarked on our joyous new life together.

The poignant September Song sums up my feelings about this brand-new month. The lyrics were written by the playwright Maxwell Anderson in an hour, and the music was composed by the famous Kurt Weill later that same afternoon. The song was written especially for the gravel-voiced actor Walter Huston to sing in a 1938 play called Knickerbocker Holiday. It was a hit!

Here's an unforgettable version of September Song sung by the great jazz singer Billy Eckstine: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IZ9NkJ4yOI0.

Linda Jay Geldens, www.LindaJayGeldens.com
Click here for more of Linda's posts.

Writer's Block - One Author's Solution

One time I spoke at a fiction panel at a Writers Conference. When the session started the moderator, the host writer announced that the theme would be writer’s block. I felt ill-equipped to discuss that, not only because I had not prepared for this subject but also I’ve almost never had writer’s block.

After the other three panelists had shared their experiences of how they contended with this demon – taking a walk in nature, staring out the window, seeing a movie, going to a concert, it was my turn.

I passed along advice from more than one thousand years ago from the famous Chinese poet Du Fu. He wrote, “If you’ve read ten thousand books and traveled ten thousand miles, your writing will be so smooth like it’s aided by the gods.”

So if you read enough and travel enough, you will have plenty of things to write about. One reason Chinese respect old people so much is for what they have experienced. As the Chinese saying goes, “The elderly have eaten more salt that youngsters have eaten rice. They have crossed more bridges than the young have walked on roads.”

After we all discussed writer’s block, the host went on to ask what did we do when we’re not writing. Everyone had their own answer. What I do is play an ancient Chinese musical instrument called the "guqin," a seven-stringed zither. I do this mainly for fun and to relax but I also have some chances to perform; last year I played at a concert at Carnegie Hall.

So what I have found is that preventing writer’s block is the same as how one gets to Carnegie Hall. Practice.

- Mingmei Yip,  http://www.mingmeiyip.com
Click here to read more of Mingmei's posts.

Comparing 4th Grade to 8th Grade - You've Got to be True to Yourself!

On the left of photo that's Alice in 4th grade. On right, 8th grade.

School, like the air conditioning, is in full blast now. You would know this if you step into any of the classrooms this year. The second week of school is already half over and is jam packed with tests and quizzes. Any hope of a homework free, lazy day is gone. As I wrote in my last post, I am getting organized.

So far this is working out well. My homework is turned in and I seem to be managing my time nicely. Since the new school began, I am back with my friends. I have also become friends with a few of the new students and hope that they feel welcomed. The subject of today's post has nothing to do with the homework I have, but more with what it is like to be a brand new eight grader.

Let's rewind a bit first. It is the first day of fourth grade. My friends and I are discussing how great middle school will be. We get to decorate our lockers, change classes, be with our friends more, and we have more trust. What we are giving up is being leaders of the elementary school. We go back to the bottom of the school food chain with no information about our teachers.

Now we skip the three years of middle school which went way to quickly and nothing has changed. Sure we know more and are taller. We act differently. There are a couple new people here and there, but we really are the same. We think about what life will be like in the unknown world of high school. We dream of being able to where ever we want everyday. We think about all the opportunities and things high school has to offer us and how things will be amazing if we can just survive one more year of middle school.

Eighth graders are very similar to fourth graders in a way. In fact we are almost identical. I remember complaining about the exact same things in fourth grade. Pressure, homework, studying, and no time.

Part of being a Spirited Woman is staying true to yourself. Changing the the big imperfections that hinder you, but keeping the small ones that help you. When I look back at younger me I see what I have changed and the person I have become.

- Alice, The Spirited Kid
Click here to read more of Alice's posts

How Hearing Painful Truths Is Liberating

One would think that taking good care of one’s health and well-being would be a no-brainer for any Spirited Woman. I’m going to assume that you, precious reader, regularly eat healthy, nourishing food, drink lots of pure water daily, have some kind of a fun exercise regimen, and think all those good, positive thoughts. Right? Right.

What about your capacity to hear painful truths? What’s that you say? What does hearing painful truths have to do with one’s health and well-being? Gobs! Research indicates that one’s willingness to hear painful truths directly correlates to one’s ability to lead a meaningful life.

Case in point: About 30 years ago I was just wrapping up a long and difficult documentary production for a multimedia company in Los Angeles. Always at my side was my production assistant, an older Israeli woman, who took such magnificent care of my every need that I trusted her completely. So, that day when she walked, somewhat boldly, into my office, declaring “We have to talk,” I asked her to sit down and tell me what was on her mind.

“You are leaving dead bodies everywhere you go.” Neither did she avert her eyes while telling me this painful truth, nor did her eyes reveal anything other than absolute love for me.

Often we tell ourselves that we don’t want to share our truth with someone because we don’t want to hurt them. I know that sometimes things are difficult to hear, but why should the truth hurt? If it’s not our truth, then we can simply allow the perspective of another. If it is a truth with which we can resonate or agree, then it’s a transcendent gift. Neither truth, in my opinion, is what I call a “Capital T” truth, but rather a unique angle perhaps we hadn’t considered before.

Hearing her point of view could have been extremely painful IF I chose to look at it that way. But, I didn’t. I could have donned my best defensive suit by reminding her, loudly and soundly, who she was talking to. But, I didn’t. We all know when we’re hearing a painful truth that is provided for our greatest good, don’t we?

110 in The Shade

Well, our L.L. Bean thermometer out on the deck only goes up to 120 degrees, and yesterday afternoon it was stuck at a sweltering 110 degrees for several hours. The burning question that kept coming to mind was, if the temperature slides above 120 degrees, would the thermometer slowly melt, explode, vaporize? 

I had a feeling I was going to find out.

We've never experienced such heat as we did yesterday here in the Ross Valley, which always gets hotter than most of the rest of Marin County. Still, the over-100 degree days are so infrequent here, air-conditioned houses and apartments are rare. A "swamp cooler" was quite effective at circulating cool air throughout the apartment, and I put a floor fan on the highest setting and placed it right beside my desk. That definitely helped restore my usually high spirits when I felt myself wilting from the heat.

But around 4 p.m., when it seemed that the temperature would be forever stuck at that sweltering 110 degrees, we decided to take a dip in the backyard pool at our complex to cool off. At first, it felt like I was sticking my toe into freezing cold bath water. But as my body got used to the water's temperature, I experienced the bliss and relief of an almost-instant cooldown. Heaven! Why hadn't we visited the pool earlier in the day?

We stayed in the pool for a good hour. Our Italian neighbor and her son were there, and we had a lot of fun talking to them; there were even a couple of "pool toys" to play with. And I did mini-versions of the frog kick, the sidestroke, and the backstroke that I remembered from my swimming lessons at the Cincinnati YWCA so long ago. The setting of the pool is lovely. When you lie back in your deck chair and look up, you see a huge, gorgeous royal palm, redwood and pine trees, birds-of-paradise flowers. It's like a quick trip to a resort!

Thanks to the summer heat for nudging me to cool off in the backyard pool, thereby restoring my spirits.

Here's a cool treat: enjoy the harmonies of John Fogerty and The Fairfield Four as they sing 110 in the Shade:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-gp3yawzk6Q.

Linda Jay Geldens, www.LindaJayGeldens.com
Click here for more of Linda's posts.

Light My Fire

I was nine years old the first time I decided to run away from home. It had been an unfortunate day full of bad choices. After my friend Kathleen proposed we play with her Ken and Barbie dolls in my backyard, I suggested that Ken and Barbie heat up the already hot summer day with a campfire. My best friend reluctantly agreed and as I dashed in the house for matches, she gathered kindling.

Lighting the matches was always my favorite part and as I held it in my hand, transfixed by the flame, my friend screamed in a rather hysteric tone, “Throw it on the sticks!”  I flung the match down and stared as flames began stretching toward the top of Barbie and Ken’s recreational vehicle while smoke billowed out and around toward the front of the house. Kathleen and I were so paralyzed by the fire’s hypnotic powers that we never heard my younger sister’s footsteps. After my sister quickly surveyed the situation, she announced in a sing-songy voice, “I’m telling Mom when she gets home.” As I stomped out the fire, I felt my saddle shoes melting, but even worse, I knew I had no choice but to run away from home. The punishment always fit the crime at my house and I had definitely committed a felony. I planned to pack and be gone before my mother’s 1964 Ford pulled in the driveway.

I stuffed eight pairs of underwear and a flashlight into a small suitcase and quietly shut the front door as I left my old life behind. I made it a block before I sat on the curb and contemplated my next move. Where would I go?  How would I support myself?  How would I eat? What if I got into a car accident and all eight pairs of underwear were dirty? My mother would be horrified. I was only nine years old, but even then I thought realistically—except when it came to fire. I enjoyed a few more minutes of freedom then reluctantly, I headed home. I would face my punishment with the grit and determination that only a hardened criminal possesses.

When I heard the recent story about Steven Slater, the JetBlue flight attendant who decided to run away from work after a bad day, I couldn’t help but wonder why I didn’t think to make a more dramatic exit that day from my house. Little did I know that I could have been the talk of the neighborhood—or maybe even the national news—if I had grabbed two root beers and glided gracefully down the slide attached to my backyard swing set with my suitcase on my lap and a grin on my face.

To be honest, part of me thinks that Steven Slater is my hero for life—and the other part of me thinks, “What? In this economy?” Either way you view his exit from the airplane that day, I think we can all relate to his experience. Who hasn’t had a day when they wanted to change their name to Thelma, find a friend named Louise, rent a convertible, and head down the highway without a real destination in mind except “anywhere away from here?”

The fictional folktale character Uncle Remus once said, “You can’t run away from trouble. There ain’t no place that far.” It’s true—our problems are like loyal dogs—they follow us everywhere. As I trudged home that hot summer afternoon to face the music, I realized that what I really needed to change was how I reacted to life’s greatest challenges.

- Vicky De Coster - www.wackywomanhood.com
Click here for more of Vicky's posts.

Guest Blogger - D. Malone - Defining Yourself: Webster 101

Our identity seems like such an easy thing to connect to, to recognize, but is it? For years working with young girls in counseling sessions there was one activity that I always liked to have them do when they would come to my office. I would fold pieces of paper, one inside of another like a booklet, and I would write the word, “Webster” on the front of it. I would hand them the booklet and some markers and ask them, “What is a dictionary for?”

Of course I would want them to respond that it is a place or a resource for looking up words to find out what they mean. I then asked them if I was to look up their name in the dictionary what would I read and see that would tell me about them? The only condition on the exercise was that the definition of themselves be written without using the words, “sister, daughter, girlfriend, aunt, cousin, or friend.” They could not define themselves in relation to someone else; I just wanted to know who they were.

This is an incredible exercise for youth or adults. Who are you – not in relation to anyone else and not in relation to a title. Who are you?

The interesting part of this exercise was that it took a great deal of time for them to start to identify themselves. When they would leave I would offer to hold on to the booklet for them, for another time and for another exercise. Later when they came back to visit me I would ask them, on a new page, to tell me who they were in relation to their boyfriend, their parents, their siblings. They began to see how their definition of self began to change, how they changed based on who they were with. This is always an eye opening experience in identifying which aspects of ourselves we let go of or change when we are in a relationship with someone else. It is the changing of our definition of self that we sometimes lose ourselves.

Like I told the girls I worked with, there is always a positive side to being the editor of your Webster booklet. You have the ability to recreate and rewrite any part of the definition you feel needs to be changed or to keep it just as it is.

Denise (da knees) 1. Believes in magic  2. Is happy with her body shape and size  3. Enjoys reading, writing and creating  4. Is compassionate  5. Enjoys wearing a toe ring  6. Is a Spirited Woman.

- D. Malone,  http://www.survivingthemurderofself.com
Click here to read more of D. Malone's posts.

D. Malone is passionate about the healing and spiritual empowerment of women. As an author and public speaker she encourages women to reclaim and maintain their truths, their identity. Malone is the author of Green: Surviving the Murder of Self. She has her M.A. in Counseling and is working towards her Ph.D. in Women’s Spirituality from the California Institute of Integral Studies. To learn more about D. Malone please visit: survivingthemurderofself.com.

She Goes Back to School - With a Clean Slate!

I posted about going Back to School - now I AM Back to School. Big difference.

The summer has officially ended - I am on my third day of school and it is already in full swing. Which means homework. It is really hard to get back into the school groove. Especially after a long lazy summer, but unfortunately I don't get to pick when I have school so to help myself this year I have decided to get organized.

Anybody who knows me really well is most likely laughing hysterically right now because I am the least organized person in the world, but so far I am doing well. I have all of my books in my locker sorted by class, my pens all write, and my pencils are all sharpened. I think I am off to a good start.

I like to think of the new school year as a clean slate. My mistakes from last year are gone. It is like I am starting a new school except with all of my friends, and I am ready to have fun. (except for homework which I can wait on)

Part of being a Spirited Woman is letting yourself start over. Everyone makes mistakes and even though we can't turn back time we can forgive ourselves and learn from the past. When you are starting a new school year or a new position in a job or even a new day you can start yourself on a clean slate.

- Alice, The Spirited Kid
Click here to read more of Alice's posts