on the lighter side

It gets pretty exhausting sometimes talking and thinking about all that authenticity and inauthenticity. It can be heady stuff, you know? Sometimes you just have to go for some plain old mindless inappropriate fun! Who better to model that than a couple of teenagers? Especially when they happen to be your own and you find that you really do have a lot in common (even though they think you are from another planet.) Every now and then, however, the planets align and some really good fun comes out of it.

Warning: If you consider this blog to be a serious, contemplative place where only deep and thoughtful things are discussed, you may want to discontinue reading at this point lest your impressions be permanently changed.

At the urging of my 19 year old son (who finds me less and less alien-like as he matures), we went to a 10:00 p.m. movie. That in itself is pretty bold for me since I generally am cuddled into bed by that time...especially on a "school" night (btw--no one here is currently in school, but still the voices say 'Wednesday is a school night.') When I heard dear son say, "Come on, Mom. Live a little" with his crooked grin I could see through the phone, I answered, "Sure. What the heck!" Somewhere in there "Mr. Charming" managed to convince his sister to move away from the computer and come along with us. (Do you think it could have been impacted by the fact that "all of her friends" are out of town this week? I mean...going into public at night with her brother AND her mother?!?!??! Horror of horrors!)

Well, like I said before, sometimes all of the planets just align and the three of us toodled off (Dad had a 4:30 a.m. wake up call. Party pooper!) to the opening night of...you still have a chance to quit reading here...the new highly acclaimed stoner-action film, "Pineapple Express." And, o.k. I have to admit I really enjoyed it. Yep, Me, Lucy, contemplative counselor actually laughed out loud in the midst of an auditorium where I think the next oldest person there was maybe 25. The movie was totally inappropriate with marijuana and murder holding center stage, but a better stoner than James Franco there has not been since Sean Penn played Jeff Spicoli in "Fast Times at Ridgemont High." And, yes, while I am giving true confessions, I liked that movie too.

So, there you have it. The 'other side' of Lucy. Occasionally I enjoy a good old raucous pointless movie. Now, am I recommending it? I will leave that to your own discretion. My enjoyment may have been induced by the incredible crescent moon, the warm summer night, the relief from the seriousness of late, the joy of hanging out with my kids and the fact that I am still slightly warped from my own teenage years. Anyway, if you're still with me, I hope you will come back again. You never know what might show up here. In the meantime if you care to share your own entertainment indulgences, feel free! Peace.

p.s. we also had a little fun with "photobooth"

exhausting inauthenticity

The most exhausting thing you can do is to be inauthentic.

--Anne Morrow Lindburgh

Earlier today while looking for something else, I ran across the above quote. In my haste, I popped it into a post so as not to forget it or lose its source as I have been known to do. In the meantime, Tess in her infinite wisdom came along with a comment of her own which stirred me to think even more deeply about the exhaustion of inauthenticity.

Regular readers may have noticed that I have been away from the blog for several days and prior to that my posts (while very meaningful to me) were not from my own pen. Oddly enough it is not that I have not been writing. In fact, I have been quite prolific in my journals and my life continues to be one grand adventure after another. (Others might or might not agree with the "grandness" but then it's all in how you look at things, isn't it?)

So, what does all of this have to do with inauthenticity? Well, for some reason, I have been censoring myself and I am becoming more and more agitated by it. I am bursting at the seams with thoughts, emotions and feelings galore, but I keep putting a lid on them. And for those of you who read here often or know me personally, well... you know that is just not like me!! Thus comes the exhaustion. It is exhausting holding back all of this emotion!!

I have been searching out other ways to exhaust the emotion and have found some very fine ways indeed. Dynamic meditation. NIA. Walking. Talking. But, I have come to realize that nothing satisfies quite like putting pen to paper and then transposing it onto this blog where others can muse and ponder and possibly relate to what I have written. I have discovered that writing from the heart is a huge part of my authenticity.

So, now I feel a little better because I have at least written about holding back, but the holding back is still there. So, where is the balance between being too candid and risking living in inauthenticity? Joy is me. Grand adventures are me. Writing is me. Honesty is me. Compassion is me. Censorship & inauthenticity are not me!

So, do you ever experience those feelings of censorship? Where does inauthenticity enter your life? Do you hold back to try and avoid misinterpretation or judgment even when it comes from an authentic place? I would love to hear what you have to say!

The most exhausting thing you can do is to be inauthentic.

--Anne Morrow Lindburgh

love this...

Today's thought from Hazelden is:

May you live all the days of your life.
--Jonathan Swift

Indeed life is much like a game - both a deadly serious one and one that demands laughter, relaxation, and the ability to play. Either way, life demands attention.

There is much of life that is truly exciting and fascinating - are we watching for it? There is hilarity and humor - do we see it? There is that in life which is touching and full of heroism - are we open to seeing it?

All these are not only present in some general, nebulous way about life, but about our lives! Right here where we live, in our lives today, there will be the hero and the goat, there will be disappointment and reason for wild celebration, there will be the beautiful and the horrible. The soap opera is not out there; it is right here with us, in us, all around us. The task is to be present in our own lives, to get our heads out of others' reality, and to find the enormous meaning and vitality of our own.

Life is precious. Today, I will not take my life for granted.

You are reading from the book:

Days of Healing, Days of Joy by Earnie Larsen and Carol Larsen Hegarty

Drifting

I have been in an odd place in regard to writing and living these days. It has been hard to pinpoint what is going on or even what to name it. I have not been motivated to post anything or really even write in my journal and last night I realized that I had not even considered visiting my favorite bloggers yesterday even though I spent some time dinking around on the computer. It was not until this morning when I read this post at Mind Sieve that the word came to me for my current state. I am “drifting.” It is something slightly different, I believe, than that to which Sunrise Sister refers which is more akin to being 'adrift.'

When I use this word, drifting, it does not feel like a moving away from anything (although I have been away from my ‘normal’ routine). It feels more like a liminal space—something in between. I was first aware of this space a few weeks ago when I had opportunity to spend several uninterrupted hours alone in nature. I had a “job” to do which was to listen to my surroundings. I took my journal along with a good book, but as I lay there in nature I found that I had no desire whatsoever to open my journal and record the amazing things happening around me. Lying there with bees buzzing, grass blowing and clouds gently swaying in the sky everything was absolutely perfect. I did not need to do anything else.

And so, that feeling has stayed with me for several weeks now. I have thought I was experiencing writer’s block. I have wondered if it is exhaustion or mere laziness, but I realize now that words like liminal and drifting seem to pop out at me when I hear or read them. It is a gentle shift. A slight rocking motion like the wind moving a hammock with an island breeze. I feel cared for and caressed even though I am not following my usual routine of morning reading and writing. God’s presence is abundant even (perhaps especially) without the need to record my impressions on the page.

Hmmmmm. I believe I have written all that is in me for now. Time to drift ☺!