Time to wake up from our collective coma

It kinda feels like our world is coming apart at the seams, the "free market" showing its gaping flaws, the middle class getting restless and tired of being f*cked up the ass by corporations and governments. Across the globe, countries are buckling under the weight of their accumulated debt. Unfettered consumption, it seems, has a price.

We've been good little consumers, brainwashed, distracted and molded into walking corporate advertisements. And we willingly continue to do so. Until the shit hits our own, personal fan. Then we start to question, to re-evaluate. Do I really need that second car, that 27th pair of shoes, that 10th pair of jeans? Whose "ideal" am I trying to live up to? Mine? Or someone else's marketing ploy? 

If you buy this, you'll be "cool". Can't afford it? Use your credit card! You don't need to save anymore! Saving's for suckers. Buy it now! You know you want it. 

The question is: who's determining what's "cool"? Why can't we each have our own individual ideals of what constitutes the "cool" factor? I heard somewhere once that true fashion is each individual's expression of themselves. Pure fashion is not "trendy", it is unique to each individual. Trends have a homogeneous effect on us which is exactly what corporations want. Don't think for yourselves! Let someone else tell you how to dress and eat and behave. 

When did we give up our originality? Our independence? Our creativity? When did we start to believe that we weren't inherently enough, by our very existence? That we needed "stuff" to feel good about ourselves? That we had a right to judge or ridicule those who didn't have the "right" stuff?

We've become corporate automatons, sipping our Starbucks latté, oblivious to the destruction of the natural world and sound, democratic political systems. We're in a trance, and judging from the current climate of international financial affairs, we'll be forced to wake up soon.

The divine in me salutes the divine in you, unless you piss me off

I've written previously on my sister blog Sassy Stylings about my views on yogic/spiritual wisdom. I'm kind of on the fence about a lot of the concepts presented in yogic philosophy and what I learned during my teacher training.

I've read quite a few books on spirituality and I don't really know that they've made any difference in my life. I can actually recall some really great novels that had more impact. When I started practicing yoga, I was all gung ho and shit, wanting to go to every workshop and read every book, and balance every chakra. However, I wasn't about to give up eating meat, or drinking coffee or alcohol. I mean, I want to enjoy life.

These days, I'm very picky about which workshops I'll attend because frankly, most of the ones I've attended in the past were disappointing. There was no new knowledge or wisdom shared. It was actually kinda bogus. 

I've pretty much given up on "searching" for spiritual wisdom. When I go to a yoga workshop these days, I simply expect a great physical workout and some new ideas for my own classes. Anything beyond that is a bonus. Besides, spiritual "A-ha!" moments usually happen when I least expect them to, sometimes during a yoga practice, sometimes when I'm drunk. You just never know.

All this to say, click here to read a fabulously irreverent blog post about "spiritual wisdom" and its commodification. The videos at the end of the post are priceless. Do yourself a favour and don't skip over them.

Peace out.

I hate it when I'm right

So... It's been a few days since I've taken a break from playwriting and lo and behold, the shit wave has arrived and just keeps on coming. I've got some rage, people. Rage over my seemingly lost twenties where I wandered about, not sure what the hell to do with my life, working crap jobs, pursuing the odd theatre gig, and falling into a depression at age 29 that required therapeutic intervention. 

And now, I'm surrounded by incredibly focused, high-achieving youths who seem to know exactly what they want to do and exactly how to get there. If only I had had even a modicum of this kind of clarity at that age. 

I knew I was an artist very early on and my passion was, and still is, theatre. However, I totally lacked the self-confidence back then to continue pursuing this passion and did what we artists call "selling out".

And boy, did I pay the price. I dated the wrong people, worked jobs I loathed and was constantly ill. I hated my life. Now, my biggest enemy is regret. Having teenage stepchildren reminds me of my own youth, and when compared to theirs, mine was a train wreck. 

I mean, I was a high achiever academically speaking. I graduated with honours from both high school and university. But my professional life since then has been less than stellar, a constant underestimation on my part of what I'm truly capable of and now I'm stuck with the byproducts of mediocrity.

When I think of the hope and excitement for the future inherent in the university experience, it saddens me to feel rage at this point in my life over a patchwork career path that has failed miserably to live up to my expectations. However, I have no one to blame but myself. My current situation is a product of choices I made and if I'm not where I want to be, it's my own damn fault.

Unfortunately, that still doesn't make this bitter pill any easier to swallow. I guess I'm a late bloomer. I finally decided, I mean really dedicated myself, in my early thirties, to pursuing goals I'm truly passionate about. I'm trying to tell myself that becoming a professional artist will be easy despite the commonly held belief that it's excruciatingly difficult. I have to tell myself that. Otherwise, I'll go mad.

I must be ripe for spiritual growth because I'm sitting in a big, steaming pile of my own mental shit and choosing to stay for a while, even though it's thoroughly unpleasant. What's that saying we use all the time in yoga? Learning to sit with sensation. I'm sittin' all right.

Staring at a big, gaping abyss. I need a drink...

So... it's come to my attention that I'm creatively burned out. You see, I'm a playwright, and for the past few years, I've been writing non-stop but lately, I've had to admit to myself that I'm tired and I need a break. It's not like it would disrupt my income or anything since I'm still an emerging playwright looking to have my scripts produced and I do have other sources of income because I'm not writing full-time.

The caveat here is that my whole sense of self worth is wrapped up in my writing. If I take a break, what will happen to me? Will I become "ordinary"? And in becoming ordinary, will I simply disappear into the crowd, unnoticeable? 

My spiritual teacher pointed out to me that those assumptions are very arrogant, that I'm basically assuming that "ordinary" people aren't lovable. Taking that one step further, "ordinary" is simply a judgment I'm projecting onto others. As she put it, "there are no ordinary people". I just "think" there are and I don't want to be one of them for fear of not being loved and adored.

This is somewhat tragic because it means I'm constantly striving to stand out. Do you know how much energy that sucks up? And for what? What would happen if I just allowed myself to go with the flow, to coast for a while and enjoy the everyday little joys my life brings me instead of constantly hungering for and grasping for what will set me apart from others? Life would be so much easier if I could just "be". 

But I see an opportunity in my creative fatigue. I certainly won't stop blogging since that's fun and demands a different kind of creative energy, one I pretty much always have on hand. But writing plays, that's a little bit different, and sometimes the soil must lie fallow and I need to respect that. 

I must also remove "ordinary" from my vocabulary. It's a purely subjective notion that serves only to deter me from the immediate present. 

In my quest to avoid "ordinariness", I'm constantly projecting into the future. I mean, it's good to have goals and visualize what you want but it has to be balanced with a strong sense of "presence", of showing up for your actual life instead of disconnecting from it in favour of a fantasy self that may or may not come to pass.

I'm actually looking forward to this period of rest, of emptiness since it will leave room for other "stuff" to come up, perhaps some long held, negative beliefs keeping me from my own happiness. It's time for me to get out of my own way, and chill.

Evolving is f*cking hard work!

"Envy is hating what you want."

That's what my therapist/spiritual advisor told me a couple days ago when I went to see her about my nasty habit of comparing myself to others, feeling I always come up short, and descending into the depths of despair and uneasiness in my own skin. 

So I had to come to terms with the fact that what I envy in other people, what irritates me about them, are the very things I wish I had, some of which are characteristics that would contribute to my personal evolution if only I would allow myself to admit that I could learn from someone else instead of always having to "be right" or to blame. 

It was also pointed out to me that we keep engaging in hurtful thought patterns because, on some level, there's a payoff, we're addicted to it. It feeds some kind of need we have to shield ourselves from the heart of the matter, from change, from moving towards our higher selves. Because this would imply letting go of our ego and its needs. And that bitch is HUNGRY. If we don't feed the ego, it gets nasty, fast. 

I was told that to be truly free, thus happy, I had to let go of blame and of needing to be right, forever. It was acknowledged that this is no small task but one that can last a lifetime. I asked: "Well, how do I do this without becoming a doormat?" "You can still have boundaries" my therapist replies. "Instead of saying "You're wrong" or lashing out, say "When you do/say that, it makes me feel (insert appropriate word here)." 

And if someone is asserting, whether directly or indirectly, that they know more than we do, better than we do, etc..., let them be right. What do we care who's right or wrong if we're truly grounded in our core. Often, when we're asserting our "rightness", we're overcompensating for our own sense of insecurity. It's about us, not them. We stop listening and we're disconnected from the actual situation, interpreting it through our faulty filters.

So, I asked "How do I stop comparing myself to others? How do I stop hurting myself this way?" Her answer: "You're too focused inward. Start to focus outward; really listen to people. Get the facts." Be present. That way my "story" of not being good enough doesn't colour every interaction I have, thus creating space for me to learn from those around me how to be a better person, all the while knowing that I'm perfectly ok, right now.

Are chicks too busy navel gazing to have any real impact?

"We don't shape history by shaping our thighs." This fabulous quote was taken from the equally fabulous book Kiss My Tiara: How to Rule the World as a SmartMouth Goddess by Susan Jane Gilman. I decided to re-read this little gem over my holiday in Jamaica, and was glad I did. 

It was a reminder, a punch in the face of sorts, to get my head out of my ass, and not get caught up in the "beauty" race. At times, I have a tendency to obsessively compare myself to other women, always finding I come up short (I'm fat, I'm ugly, etc, etc...). Why do I expend vast amounts of energy in a vicious and never-ending cycle of envy instead of trying to figure out how to make a difference in the world?

The obvious answer is that I've been conditioned that way - to see other women as "competition" for "scarce" suitable male mates. Advertisers throw us in the ring against each other, knowing we'll buy whatever they're selling if it gets us a leg up on our sisters. 

I don't want to discount that men probably worry about this stuff too but not to the extent that we women fret about it. And what are men doing in the meantime? Ruling the world. They've got us so distracted with the latest anti-aging cream and Jimmy Choo shoes, we can't see the forest for the trees.

Our very identity has been constructed around being able to attract the opposite sex, as have large segments of the economy. Surely, there's more to us than that. 

Have we really taken any steps forward in this post-feminist era? American television is still littered with size zero actresses who bare no resemblance to the average American woman.

Carbohydrates have been vilified. 

Plastic surgery is rampant and only seems to be getting more and more popular. Sure, we laugh at Heidi Montag, but the real question is: why did a beautiful girl think she needed to completely alter her appearance to further her career?

Whose standards are we living by? Certainly not your average male's. Ask a man what he thinks is sexy, and you'll be surprised by his answer. It's usually the opposite of what's portrayed in the media.

What's really attractive to guys, in many cases, is a self-assured woman who can make them laugh. They want a best bud that they also get to f*ck, not some preening princess trying tirelessly to live up to impossible standards.

What is beauty if not the sound of laughter, the warmth of intimacy, the elation of achievement and a hair out of place now and then.

The "Charlie Sheen" phenomenon only exists because there's an audience to receive it

Charlie Sheen garnered 1 million Twitter followers in 24 hours. WTF? Then again, I watch The Bachelor. WTF? I'm fully aware there is some dark undertow to reality TV and yet, I can't stop myself from watching. I guess it's a bit like the collective "us" and Charlie Sheen. Dude is having a very public meltdown of epic proportions and we're watching, amused, creating merchandise, cashing in on someone else's crazy. 

Why are we so attracted to the repugnant, low brow antics of celebrities? Think Britney Spears flashing her cooch to photogs, shaving her head, and being mercilessly pursued by the paparazzi as she was being loaded onto an ambulance after a, what's that?, oh, a meltdown. Hmm...

Why do we not celebrate the constructive, positive actions taken by celebrities? The works of charity and volunteerism? The lending of their name recognition to draw attention to worthy causes? Is it because we're so envious of their lifestyle that when something goes wrong for them we want to lap it up, we want to roll in it, we want to snort every last morsel of their dysfunction to fill the gaps in our own self-esteem?

If aliens were to descend on our planet today and judge us on the values held by our predominant cultural icons, they would deem us an unevolved civilization of idiots. 

I'm not claiming to be above all this - I'm certainly guilty of pangs of joy when celebrities get hit with "real life" shit like divorce and arrests. It reminds me that they're not immune to life, they weren't given a free pass; on some level, they're like the rest of us. They're just as f*cked up, if not more so, than we are. 

Living under the spotlight would be like living under a microscope, with someone watching your every move and deducing some theory from your every action. No wonder celebrities have a warped sense of reality. We don't let them live like real people. We are, in large part, to blame for overinflated egos and a faulty belief in one's own supremacy.

Until we stop glorifying the idiotic and licentious, we will continue to collectively create creatures like Charlie Sheen, trapped in delusions of grandeur and a belief in their exemption from natural laws.