Day 17 ... Humble Thanks

I would like to thank every single person who has sent me
comments on my past few posts regarding changing behavior.

There have been some amazingly helpful ideas. Those ideas,
the positive energy, as well as an INSANELY good night's sleep
(thank you JESSICA - though I am thinking you gave me the
date rape drug!) leave me excited and humble. I am recommitted
to living life to my fullest potential, especially when people
who don't even know me feel compelled to:

a. wish me well
b. commend my courage
c. provide me with constructive ways to deal with negativity


WOO HOO!

This is an amazing day. A new day.
Some postive things going on.......................

Read more of this post....

Day 16... Home Schooling

Composition

Where do we learn to hate ourselves?
Where do we learn to doubt ourselves?
What inside us makes us feel ugly...when others proclaim
We are beautiful, special and unlike no other?
Do we hear that and think that different is somehow worse?
Can we ever accept is as a gift?

Can I ever accept me?

Math
<

not

>
-
not
+
dividing myself up into minuscule empty bits
rather than multiplying positive images

Lab
My question:

Is it possible to stop one's brain from going to the places it
seems most comfortable

Hypothsis:
Yes this is possible

Read more of this post.....

Day 15...Home Economics

Pattern: a combination of qualities, acts, tendencies, etc.,
forming a consistent or characteristic arrangement: the
behavior patterns of teenagers.

Definition and example both so poignant.

I wrote earlier that I have lost touch with the energy that
was present in the beginning of this journey. In the midst
of my sadness today came an old and often times experienced
revelation.

I weave destructive patterns with men.

This is not about a man I may see and want to sleep with
.....but rather the pattern of men like the engaged ex.
or like the most current obsession - we will call him Mr. BW

Pattern for soul dancer's destructive damsel's dress:

Read More of this post.....

Day 14 ....I'm Back

I am going to be a blog writing fool. I woke this morning, after not having written something of substance for five days, I felt out of it. I felt disconnected. I guess part of the journey is recognizing that you needed to be on the journey in the first place. I could easily have aborted this mission......

stopped...

continued on in the monotonous robotic way I spoke about in my first post.

I will not allow that to happen

Read More of this Post.....

Day 11... Gimme some lovin

Today was Monday...I said it could/would/should be full of hope.

I worked 12 hours.

I got a letter saying I owe the federal govt $1,200 from 2005 tax return.

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!

OK...so I am not going to write about feeling calm and working my way through obvious frustration. Instead I am going to talk about the one thing that makes me calm without having to think about it.

SEX

Read more of this post.....

Day 10 ... Rainy Days and Sundays

Why are Sundays filled with sadness and gloom?

They are the February of days, the dark ages of time, the black hole of the universe.

I hate them.

I feel lonelier than on any other day. I allow my imagination to run wild and then am even more let down when faced with the foolishness of my fanciful, whimsical thoughts.

I am embarrassed that my mind can wonder so freely and yet so specifically into scenarios and at the same time they offer me my only solace from the doldrums of the day.

Today, I was thinking would be different. I was hoping to awake and see the sun through my window and sense the continuation of the beautiful weather in our nation's capital. But the sky is thick with dense, sticky clouds.
My plans of basking the sun while continuing through Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged (AMAZING), and taking dips in the chilled blue pool were over. I was left in my bed to think about Sunday in all its...

Sundayness.....

Read more of this post...

Day 9... Priceless

I didn't write yesterday. I was busy........

Being part of a miracle of sorts. Though I didn't know the foundation of this miracle started my freshman year of college.

I met amazing women. Three. I don't keep in touch with them on the same time table. But there is instant comfort....instant love....and instant LAUGHTER.

We love each other.
I feel blessed.
In many different ways, we were all open and that allowed us to connect in a way that not all people can.

Throughout changes...and post-college life choices that could pull apart most, we remain friends.

We are cheerleaders rooting for each other.

We are hot chocolate on a snowy day and the feel of water on the hot humid haze of August.

I have never laughed so hard in my life. I couldn't breathe. My abs are sore. I was, still am elated.

At one point, my eyes glazed over.
I was diving within.
Feeling less than. Judging myself.


My friend noticed and asked, "Are you getting introspective?"

To which I replied, "Yes."

She knew why. She wouldn't allow me to think I was less than because I was single. She replied with a smile, immediately snapping me out of potential pity party, "Not on my time!"


Read more of this post....

Day 8 ... Letting Go

A favorite song of mine from Joe Cocker…..not so easy to do.

My friend, who started me on this process, and I have been
so connected of late…we are on this journey together. Today
on the phone, she brought up the topic of anger. I quickly
noted to her, that while in bed last night…I was thinking of
just that.

On this journey, I am not in any way unaware of the fact that
I have, “anger issues”.
Translation…I overreact a lot. I explode so quickly. Many times
it can be seen from the outside. But what is going on inside is
so much worse.

I literally can feel HEAT surging through my veins. And this is
not the good sexual heat…
oh god please LET ME FEEL THAT SOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I am talking about this explosion of bubbling lava blood
erupting throughout my body. Making me appear red all over…
a hot look for freckly chick like myself

There is no poker face.

There are no poker words.

Read more of this post.....

Day 7... Scab Pickin' Fool

I pick my scabs.

This is a gross unladylike habit.
I always thought that once I was an adult.
A LADY
I would stop doing that.

Guess WHAT????

I haven't.

I suffer from chronic-scabpickulitus.

And you know you know what?

Fuck it.

What childhood oddities did you bring along with
you to your adulthood? I would love to know. Here
are a few other of my signature child to adult idiosyncrasies:

1. the previously mentioned scab picking

2. every time I eat a bagel, I take a bite of each
quarter, separating them, forming a bagel line. I eat the worst
quarter bagel first, and then end with the last BEST delicious
bite at the end.

Read more of this post....

Day 6.. Spiritual Scrub

I woke up this morning in a shitty mood. I am having money troubles. I am a fiscal failure with a promising job. It is a sad pathetic treatise on my inability to live within my means. But it is true.

Because of this, I had to ask my brother for help.

I couldn't ask my father again...ONE MORE TIME

Because he has helped me so often, and without payback.

Maybe it this journey I am on of late. A journey to be the best me. But I went to my brother knowing he would help and knowing he would be strict about the following:

1. I WILL pay him back
2. There will be no money directly deposited in my acct.
3. He will force me to admit everything about my spending habits and help me come up with a plan

Needless to say, I felt like a baby sister in the truest form last night.

I went to bed with an inspired idea on what to write about. I would write about how it is a blessing to have someone to fall on when you are in need. How I was humiliated but calm about it all for the first time. I felt a change ahead. I feel a change in me.

I am not going to lie to get the money. I told him my predicament. I tried not to cry.

It didn't work.


Read more of this post....

Day 5... Origins Male

Every day from age two till adolescence, I would be doing a variety of things around my house: dancing, annoying my brothers, watching TV, or making a mess.

When I would hear the sound...

The most exciting sound of every day

Read more of this post....

Day Four... Love Stoned

This is not intended to be read by prudes…

I just saw Justin Timberlake in concert last night and am feeling a bit dirty....

Read more.....

Day three... Origins female.

I have three older brothers. Yes three. Half-brothers to be totally accurate, though we grew up together.

I am the love child of my two parents. My father prefers to say diaphragm baby. (I know a lot of these.)

Note to self:DIAPHRAGMS SUCK!!!

I am the only girl

I did well in school

I was a tattle tale

I fought with my mother

My father is GOD

Daddy and Me against Mom – that’s how it was.

Still is in a lot of ways.

I am still apologizing to her for things I said:

“FUCK YOU”

“YOU’RE JEALOUS OF ME BECAUSE I WILL HAVE A CAREER AND YOU ARE JUST A MOM”

“I CAN HAVE BABIES STILL”

First of all, there is no just being a mom.

Second, like I said, I am still apologizing.

Read more....

Day Two... String Bean Casserole

In thinking about what it is I want to accomplish, I can’t help but thinking about a simple mathematical truth:

A sum is worth the whole of its parts

Who will be the best people to support and laugh and cry with me along this journey? What STUFF do I need to do this...

I love string bean casserole.

I HATE string beans

But the oniony, crunchy goodness that you are directed to add to the recipe, makes the evil taste of green beans somehow bearable.

Of course, I often think the best string bean casserole would be ALL the ingredients EXCEPT the green beans.

However, that is the ironic beauty of the recipe. That would be all style no substance...

Manolo Blahniks on a woman who can’t walk the walk!

All the crap works together to make a once healthy, albeit gross veggie side into a fattening tasty treat. BUT you still get the necessary nutrition.

My ingredients for a better life:

String beans – my regrets, my fears, my anger at myself, my controlling nature, my false hope (not to be mistaken with well placed hope), my self medicating, my blaming……………….both of myself and of others

ALL OF THESE MUST BE DIGESTED AND BROKEN DOWN IN ORDER TO MOVE FORWARD

Milk – Life itself, the will to live

Read More...

Day One... The thesis

This is the first day of the rest of my life. This is the day when it all starts for me.

How many times have I said that? How may times have I followed through……………..a lot less times than I have puttered out….dieing down to the humdrum monotonous life I have been leading for the past few years. Monotonous not in terms of most.

Major move to fresh city, drunken nights dancing, random boys a screwing, and a partridge in a pear tree (please excuse the contradictory religious reference - but Jews are not known for their catchy holiday tunes, minus the Hanukkah song of course).

It started three weeks ago – the unfortunate series of events leading up to me reevaluating the writing I had started in February after a certain incredible concert by the one and only JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE, a man whom I still waiting to receive a present from ……….. in MY box!

I had lost touch once again with the inspiration I had discovered watching this man sing his heart out on the piano.

I was a robot.

AGAIN

Three weeks ago I discovered that the man whom I was waiting for; the man whom I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW I was waiting for, was engaged.

I can’t tell you what I felt at that moment, other than complete loss of hope. And a physical piercing through my heart down into the pit of my stomach through my spine up over my head and squeezed out through multitudes of wet sloppy tears.

He was never going to drive down to DC and take me in his arms and laugh about our time apart. He was never going to share with me the moment that he knew I was the girl he wished to be awoken by every morning.

ReadMore....

Another Woman... Another Miracle

Meet Soul Dancer...

When someone asks me who I am, I think,

“I am a dancer.”

In reality, I am an insurance broker, a JUNIOR insurance broker.

BUT I am a dancer.
That is my core.........

Read more...

The next steps....

I began this experiment as a desperate last attempt to discover more.

All that I had known.
Though I knew.
Believed.

Wasn't enough to for me to want to keep myself in the world I lived in.

Life is simply a reflection of what you know
...and something within me knew more then I did.
I challenged myself on a level in which I never found the. courage to do so before.

The pain in my life, the disappointment and disillusion I felt in every moment was the driving force that led me to find another way. To redefine the abstract nature of what life was described to be, as I was told life was by those who taught me.

I am a miracle.
You are a miracle.
We are all miracles.

They are not events that take place high in the sky separate from us in someway. They are only the simple wonder of once again finding the absolute bliss, magic and awe that life contains.

Within the struggles of everyday life.....
Miracles occur daily.

I was always looking into the sky for them and so I missed them appearing before me.

I don't look for them in the sky any more.
I found them within myself and within the people I encounter in life.

I also found a few angels on this journey of mine.
Not the ones I was taught to believe in...

Nothing appeared out of the sky.
No heavenly images appeared.
No harps played music.

Just people taking a risk to guide someone else closer to their dreams.

Yesterday I got an e-mail from this angel....
Yes they can e-mail..

They asked if they could create a Word Press account for me to continue my blog on....
I accepted and humbly and gratefully say thank you to the Angel that wishes to stay unknown.

So I will begin posting there
the new address is.....

Process of a miracle..the next steps

I wasn't sure what to do with this blog...
It had given me such an opportunity to redefine my life.
I didn't want to post the same stuff on two different blogs.

So what should I do????

A couple of weeks ago an old friend of mine found me on My Space.
It's been years since we have seen each other and both our lives had drifted very far from the common ground it once existed on.

She's gone through many of the same struggles I have as well as many I have not.
She has a different story to tell....

But it's the same path we all journey upon when desperate for the truth of change.

I challenged her to do what I had done.
I challenged her to challenge herself.

Scared and fearful she agreed.

Another 30 days with another miracle .

Another Woman....
Another Story..
Another Journey...

Watch the next Miracle unfold.....

Begin Again

There was an old man named Michael Finnegan
He had whiskers on his chinnegan
They fell out and then grew in again
Poor old Michael Finnegan
Begin again.

There was an old man named Michael Finnegan
He went fishing with a pinnegan
Caught a fish and dropped it in again
Poor old Michael Finnegan
Begin again.

There was an old man named Michael Finnegan
He grew fat and then grew thin again
Then he died and had to begin again
Poor old Michael Finnegan
Begin again.


I had to take a few days to really soak up what I had done through the past thirty days and now it's simply time to....

Begin Again.

Where I was at day one was not where I ended up at the 30 day mark.
It appears as soon as I begame willing to change my life....

My Life changed.

So this is where I begain again for now.
Yet again do I know how my life will change in the next 30 days?

Nope...still no clue.

But it certainly will not be the merry go round I have spend my life on. Right now this is the tentative plan. I write "tentative" because in my experience....

I make plans and God laughs.

I am staying flexible enough to jump through any and all hoops that life may present to me through this next phase of the journey.

I had shown a few people what I had written through the past thirty days and I was really overwhelmed by the response I recieved. One of which has agreed to help me in whatever way possible to get it into print. So this is my next puzzle that I will begin to peice together.

Is it possible to publish a book and have it recieved by the world?

I have written more then once that I am no longer willing to trade my life away in order to barely survive. What I have learned through life hasn't worked and I truly believe down into the depths of my being that a path is being opend before me to discover the unknown.

Weaving throughout the subtle ryhme and reason that life contains there is more then the very distorted truths of what I was led to believe.

I cannot accept that my purpose in life is to settle for a nine to five job of whichI have no interest in. I can't believe that within the framework of a divine intelligence "that" is the possiblity I have to endure as the truth of my life.

So I won't.

There are moments when I wish I could just accept an ordinary life. Be okay with what others determine their life to be...but I can't.

Every single fiber of my entire being tells me that is not part of my journey, not part of who I am, not what I have the capacity to settle for.

Still sometimes I wish I could.

The thing about having dreams is the fear that sits right alone besides then for the ride. The little whispers of doubt it infects them with....

What if I try and there is nothing more?
What if life is what I can't accept?

Questions that have no answers until I test them with the experience of chasing them with all I have. Sometimes it seems easier to live in the fantasy of what dreams may hold then to risk knowing that they can never be a possibility. The courage to participate within my own life to be responsible for the life I choose to live is in moments terrifying. I can no longer blame the world at large for what my life became.

I choose to take responsibility for me.
I choose to take responsibility for my dreams.

There's something stirring within...
I wonder what will happen next?

Until Tomorrow,
Mighty Morgan

Day 30 ... New Shoes

A new pair of sneakers once were the most magical things in the world. I remember believing that somehow and in someway they transformed me into the fastest kid on the block.

I would race up and down the stairs.
In and out the front door.
Down the block as fast as my little legs could take me.

Pigtails bopping.
Wind rushing by.

I was unstoppable.

It wasn't till I got a bit older did I realize that a new pair of shoes didn't made me any faster. Only that the excitement of the idea made them seem that way. As I grew older the idea grew smaller until one day I never thought much of magic or magic shoes.

I never thought of the adventure they used to carry.
Never thought of the places I once believed they would bring me to.
Never realized that it was never the shoes themselves
....only me.

I have placed a lot of importance on things outside myself for much of my life. Never recognized in all the beauty, all the wonder, all of the things I looked at with such awe were not outside of me....

They simply reflected all of what was inside of me.

I was the magic and I forgot.
But it was still there.
It's always been there.

I still felt within the darkness of night the silver, silence of the moon gazing down from above.
I still felt the love in the warmth of the sun that streamed down caressing and gently nudging everything to life.

I felt the magic....but felt apart from it.

Beliefs that life carried and which I choose to drag along for the ride left no room for the magic.
Only the grim and bleak outlook of the bitter experiences of those that had also forgot they too were the magic.

Trudging along the paths of my life I would sometimes catch glimpses.

The firery explosion of the sun as it sucumbed to the night.
Butterflies dancing together high into the deep blue of the afternoon sky.
The smell of a thousand dreams carried within the sweetness of a springtime breeze.

It was always there inside me.
It was still present in the way I saw things.
In the way I felt things.

I saw the absolute perfection of beauty reflected in every moment; yet felt powerless in the grand design of it all.

A lot of people have asked me what will happen at the thirty day mark?
Will I continue to write?
Will I extend the experiment further?

When I initially started this experiment I had no idea of the way my life would be effected. I did not have at the time an ability to conceive a life more then the one I had lived. I could not see past the very limitations I had created in my perception of the world. But I was willingly to remove these limitations.

Willing to find another way.
Willing to discover the magic again.
Willing to find myself again.

In a dark, dim corner filled with more hopelessness then hope is where this all began. My experience has revealed to me that the emptiness of hopelessness was actually the sparks of hope stirring from deep within

There is never a beginning or an end only the constant of change. I simply choose to allow the next part of my life to unfold before me as I continue forth in this process of discovery.

I look back at where I was and where I am now and find myself amazed at how I have traveled so far from the beginning. It all moved so quickly once I decided that my life was going to change for the better.

This is not the end...only the beginning.
I begin again from the end..to discover more then I ever imagined.

Zoom...zoom.

Look at how fast I go.


Until............

Mighty Morgan







Like this post????....then fuel this blog!