Tag Archives: inspiration

The Hero

This month I’ve been exploring the idea of The Hero and as I continue to reframe my thoughts and reshape my life, this concept has been particularly fun to play with.  Everybody loves a Hero and little girls especially are taught to dream of being rescued from the whoas of life by some hooded figure that underneath looks like Christian Bale as his finest 8 pack wielding self.  This “someday my prince will come” mentality seeped into me for a time as I was shown Damsels in distress, Pretty Woman saved from hookerdom by a sexy Silver Fox and Cinderella who couldn’t even treat herself to a nice mani-pedi after all that cleaning.  If I’m sitting around waiting for a Hero or Prince Charming to find my other stiletto, what does that make me?  A VICTIM.

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The last month I’ve taken on some new challenges and as I’ve run into difficult situations the thought has come up “who do I call right now to help me with this?”  Instead of playing into the victim and frantically scanning my favorites on speed dial, I’ve started learning to be my own Hero.  Trusting myself and my inner voice–my Siren–and looking for answers and comfort there instead of in something or someone external.  When life kicks the ass of a Hero, they dig deep and get back up.  When things look hopeless, Heroes fight harder.  Being a Hero is no walk in the park, sometimes people think your costume is funny, or that because you wield great power you are a threat to them, but one thing a Hero never does is give up.

So I’ve started asking myself “Would a Hero call her friends and complain about someone that was rude?”  Not so much.  “Would a Hero worry about what other people think?”  Nah, she’d be too busy being awesome.  “Would a Hero do a happy dance when something good happens?”  Hell yeah she would.

It’s not that I save babies from runaway trains now or anything but sometimes being a Hero is as simple as getting up off the floor, drying the tears and putting on a smile.  In the same way Bruce Wayne puts on his mask and becomes Batman, it feels like I’m taking off my mask when I become The Siren.  As I shed layers of old beliefs and past conditioning, the more I take off the more I feel like myself.

So who is my Hero?  She is confident, powerful and alarmingly in touch with her own sensual radiance. She finds adventure and play in the unknown instead of fear or stress.  She never feels the need to be cruel or abuse her power, because the real show of strength is in kindness.  She is strong, intelligent and fierce.  So as I continue to befriend my inner Hero, maybe not yet, maybe not all the time, but more every day, She is me.

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The Regular Girl

  This month I found myself reluctant to explore the archetype of The RegularGirl.  After some time I was finally able to talk myself around to why this seemed like an uncomfortable idea–nobody wants to be “average” or “normal!”

Initially perplexed by the idea of relating to “normal” I wrestled with the desire of wanting to understand myself and connect to other people.  Do other people identify as normal?  I never had.  I’ve been told my whole life that I am anything but and additionally, I don’t feel normal.  As I searched for the answer to my conundrum I was reminded again of the brilliant Albert Einstein.

The same way I get to choose daily whether to view life as ordinary or extraordinary, I get to choose how I view myself and others.  Perspective is a funny thing, to some people a song is just something in the backdrop, to others it’s notes and half steps and timing and sweat and tears and beauty.  To some people we are just lumps of skin waiting to die, but I prefer this perspective.

“Normal” is really quite extraordinary.  The way we have the ability to love and connect with each other and the way we interact with the world creates the tenor and flavor of not just our experience, but that of others.  Throughout the first few days I’ve spent here in Santa Barbara I’ve felt the gentle cradle of the universe channelled through the individuals all around.  From the people who gave me directions when I was wandering, to the associate that gave me a beautiful car for the price of a lemon, I’ve felt so at home in a different corner of the world because it’s all connected and so are we.  I am reminded yet again;

I am anything but normal.

RE-DEFINE or The Innocent

I love exploring different layers of myself.  I love that I can dress in white and wear no makeup and then black out my eyes, throw on some fishnets and play a completely different role.  All of these characters are me, they are just vastly different parts of me.  I’m not sure if other people have as many personas as I do, but I have always been drawn to things of great contrast and enjoyed dichotomy.  As I explore this idea of The Innocent I can’t help but think of its counterpart, The Guilty. angle and devilFor a lot of my life I have felt guilty.  Guilty of what?  I have no idea, everything and nothing.  In my minds eye I see The Innocent version of myself, I see a loving, open and kind little girl just trying to find her way in this world.  Yet before I go too far this dark side sweeps in and reminds me that I like kink, weapons and power.  Does liking these things make me evil?  Are my innate, undeniable preferences wrong?  I am answered by two voices.

Instead of choosing the Devil on the left or Jiminy Cricket on my right, as often I have been made to think I must, I find it essential that I embrace them both.  I only find rest and peace when I observe the wholeness of myself with acceptance.  I have battled with the shouldn’t and should’s and now I know that these things are not right or wrong and it is only my perception of them, so I am choosing to change my perspective.  Today, I’m re-defining The Innocent.


FullSizeRender (8)OLD DEFINITION

in·no·cent

 adjective \ˈi-nə-sənt\

: not guilty of a crime or other wrong act

: not deserving to be harmed

: lacking experience with the world and the bad things that happen in life

Bekka Archetype - Innocent - Black

NEW DEFINITION

in·no·cent

 adjective \ˈi-nə-sənt\

:vulnerable and open

:not condemnatory of self or others

:One who continually experiences the world with fresh excitement

Innocence used to be about virginity, chastity and purity, but that’s the old paradigm and we are living in a new world in every moment.  Being innocent does not mean not having experiences in life, it’s about approaching those experiences from a place that is open and honest and untainted.  It’s about refusing to become jaded no matter what the majority thinks, no matter what the news propagates, no matter how many broken hearts have ensued.  It takes a great deal of bravery and courage to remain innocent in the face of corruption, lies or fear and it takes a great deal of strength to remain vulnerable when the temptation to close off becomes overwhelming.

I will continue exploring these ideas and ways to RE-DEFINE different terms and concepts that have come to be understood as fact by many.  For example, I grew up around guns and target shooting so for me guns were never “bad,” but to the kid who experienced a school shooting there is a whole different association.  I’m not a politician so I will not discuss gun control or government policy, but neither of those vastly difference experiences make guns right or wrong.  There is power and and strength in looking outside of ones own experience of something and recognizing the choice to see it differently and that is what I am doing.  Step outside the box and RE-DEFINE perceptions, RE-DEFINE beliefs, RE-DEFINE life.

**What would you like to RE-DEFINE? Write in and tell me your thoughts and it may end up in my next post!  Just let me know if you would enjoy your name being mentioned or if you would prefer to remain anonymous**

All I Want For Christmas

 It’s a perfect 68 degrees in Austin right now and my Christmas tree looks strangely out of place next to my T-shirt, open window and the palm tree outside of it.  After several years in Texas I guess a part of me is still not used to the holidays without snow or fully adapted to some of the changes in my life that seem to be more apparent with the season.  Still etched in my brainfamily-at-radio-christmas-1920s is the idea of a cold, white Christmas snuggled up by a fire, wearing ridiculously colored fuzzy socks and rolling my eyes at my family’s idiosyncrasies while we smile and laugh gaily over some festive drink like Bailey’s on the rocks or spiced wine.  I’m not really sure where the image in my head comes from as my holidays growing up were a vast array of different experiences, mostly not resembling that.

Some of them were lavish parties at my grandparents house involving a 12 foot table overflowing with food, over 200 people speaking blends of Turkish, Greek and English, roller skating and ping-pong in the basement and a drawer of silk nightgowns to choose from before sleepily tracing the wallpaper with my finger in “The Blue Room” as I drifted off to sleep.  Some of the holidays were spent with my immediate family exchanging glances with my sister in squirmy silence as Dad read bible passages and stated that, despite the mountain of beautifully wrapped boxes already under the tree, it may be ungodly for us to give gifts at Christmas.  Awkward.

FullSizeRender (7)I’ve spent holidays alone with my dog eating pastries and drinking wine, with strangers and in complete misery because I can’t handle one more football game, holidays with other peoples families when I wasn’t welcome with my own, holidays drunk in a bar because my boyfriend was “asleep” with a naked girl all over him and really the list goes on.  Yet every year the magic of the season washes over me and I feel excitement and hope bubbling up.  The Buddha next to my Christmas tree displays just how much I disregard convention and this year as the end of the season approached I found myself wishing for just a few things and hungry to create my own unorthodox traditions.  Instead of the fictitious picture I held in my head for so long of what Holidays should be, I allowed myself to open up to the possibilities of what they could be. 

This year I wished to be surrounded by people I love.  I wished to open just one gift without thought of what it would be, because after all the best part is unwrapping the present.  Lastly, I wished for some surprise happy event–a Christmas miracle.  Sure it’s cheesy, but cheese is delicious and when you look for the magic in life, it magically appears.  I’m taking my first trip home for Christmas in over 5 years which is sure to be an adventure and to this day being around my family is like a situation comedy that will no doubt provide some great stories!  I’mtwo-wine-glasses-christmas-fireplace-merry-christmas-hd-wallpaper looking forward to the chilly Northeast weather, to spoiling my niece and nephew that have grown like bamboo shoots, hugging my mama and bonding with my sister.  People I love?  Check.  Present?  Maybe.  Christmas miracle?  Stay tuned, there just may even be some Bailey’s on the rocks or spiced wine.

This Moment Is Your Life

work.3186256.2.flat,550x550,075,f.who-owns-those-boots-beneath-the-bed-where-my-old-boots-should-be-v-2-close-up-detailFor most my life I’ve been a bit of a loner.  Ok, more than a bit of one.  I was home-schooled and drifted in and out of friend circles never really feeling like I belonged, but as response and a survival mechanism I learned to adapt very quickly and became a sort of chameleon.  I’ve always had this feeling of “passing through” like some old cowboy in the wild west who hangs up his dusty boots for a night or two, falls in love with a parlor girl or town harlot, but then is called away on some bigger journey.

I’ve always felt a pull toward something greater.  Greater than what?  Greater than wherever I am right now.  It’s not that I’m discontent and in fact most people consider me one of the happiest people they know and I appreciate the simple things in life.  That said, I do not strive for the simple life in the sense of planting crops (which I have done) or making clothes from the cotton in my neighbors field that I bartered for milk from my goat that my five children then churned into butter and cheese to sell at the fair. 

19594My aspirations lie somewhere between the earth and the sky, gently suspended between possible and impossible and I suspect that I will always, no matter where I am in life, feel this pull for something greater, bigger and more.  I think this desire must reside in others because I see the movies that become popular and the music that floods the airwaves and all of it has the capacity to make one feel larger than life.  Yachts, black AMEX, private jets and all sorts of other material things have infiltrated music, but I think what people are really grasping onto is this sense of freedom, being limitless and true loss of inhibition.  Living for happiness as opposed to obligation and other peoples expectation–fun!  That’s why people are so in love with music and musicians, because the really amazing ones are doing it because they love it and others feel that love.  Everything is energy and permeates everything else so when someone is really showing love for something, you can’t help but feel it and respond. 

unnamedWe inherited a lot of damage and warped traditions from past generations but there comes a point where I realized the past doesn’t exist anymore.  As cliche as it might sound, right here, right now, is really all you have.  The past isn’t real.  The future doesn’t exist yet.  Right now, this table, the Champagne on my lips, the french fries with mustard on my tongue and the keys beneath my fingers, these are real.  The group of cute, nerdy foreign guys next to me, that’s real.  The exhausted waiter that is working overtime on Thanksgiving.  What do I do with this moment?  I milk it for all it’s worth.

It’s Thanksgiving, I love the holidays so much and I am so grateful for right now.  I’m not with my blood family, my evening didn’t go exactly as planned, but I just shared an authentic smile with the guy clearing my table, these fries are satisfying my inner fat kid on a level I can’t explain and somehow deep inside I’m overtaken with joy.  I’m still searching, still smiling and still soaking it all up. 

1, 2, 3…Tinder! or Mama Takes New Jersey

Despite her gorgeous hourglass figure, youthfulness and spritely face, my mother turned 60 this year.  After her divorce 2 years ago–which was actually a really great thing for everyone involved–she had settled into her own condo, a job and had transitioned from 30 some years of wife and mother to full blown independent woman.  Hooked on personal development podcasts and optimism, she had let herself be talked into joining Tinder by my sister and I.  “It’s like shopping,” I told her comparing it to her favorite pastime to ease the apprehension of online dating.  “You can just window shop and then if you like someone, you decide if you want to talk to them.”  After a few days of dramatization over every swipe and message,

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she was chatting with several men and back in the game!

At my consistent urging that she “be a hussy” (which for someone who had only slept with one man ever might involve one french kiss by the end of the year) she extended the age range of prospects to include 40-somethings.

Hussy

One afternoon I get a call from her that a man–let’s call him Maurice–who she had been talking with regularly on the phone, wants her drive to the Jersey Shore and spend the weekend with him at the beach for their very first rendezvous.  “I mean it’s 3 hours away and I’m tired.”  Her voice held an excitement I hadn’t heard in a long time as she waited for the verbal thumbs up I knew she had called me for.  While personally I probably wouldn’t have driven 3 hours without meeting someone first, I couldn’t deflate the hope that was alive in her once again.  With one word of affirmation from my lips she all but hung up on me “ok well I have to go pack and get on the road!”

UveToTry

I stood looking around the room for a moment and then dialed my sister.  “Um, I just told mom to drive 3 hours to stay with a guy she’s never met from Tinder…that’s ok right?  Like, she’ll be fine and everything?”  We both uneasily made our way toward feeling good about it and covered all the necessary precautions including a parental like call to speak with this Mandingo Maurice where he assured me she had her own room and was to be worshipped like royalty.

Degrees Of Royalty - Elly Carthy

A text from Mama came through, “he has the cutest accent and says ‘chow’ instead of goodbye!”  I laughed out loud in my apartment as I explained to her that ‘chow’ is the first word of an Asian dish 

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and if she said it back to consider spelling it ‘Ciao.’

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Well as it turned out the chemistry in person was not as sizzling as it was when being bounced off of multiple cell phone towers.  The second day she told him that the sparks weren’t there for her and a very disappointed Frenchmen was reluctantly friend-zoned.  She left early and got back in time to spend an evening happily alone in her condo.  As she filled me in on the details of how he tried to run her to death on the beach with no hydration, I laughed and filled with admiration for this courageous woman said “well, you can’t expect a home run on your first swing.”

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Following My Whimsey

This year I coined a phrase that I love and whenever people ask me why I’m doing certain things I say “I’m following my whimsey!”  When asked why I’m dancing when there’s no dance floor, “I’m following my whimsey!”  When asked why my hair is red, “I’m following my whimsey!”  Why am I writing this blog?  I’m following my whimsey!

I’ve found that personal fulfillment is one of the most important things when it comes to being happy in life and if I’m happy, the whole world is happier and benefits.  When you are not happy you turn into one of these people.

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This week my whimsey said “there are some of my songs that will not be released unless my voice is the one representing them.”  It was like when Sylvester Stallone wrote Rocky and insisted that he star in it.

rocky

It doesn’t have to make sense to other people because sometimes I can’t explain why I feel certain things and it defies what seems logical, but ask any successful person and I bet they won’t say that they got to where they are by ignoring their impulses.

Be you the world will adjust

Following your whimsey is a lot like following The Siren.  It’s honoring that little voice within more than any that come from without.  It’s making the hard decisions and sometimes other people tell me I’m crazy.

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So I just assume I’m the weirdest person in any room.

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And when someone tells me I’m selfish for following my whimsey

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because I know that it’s even more selfish for someone else to ask me to follow their whimsey.

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Life should be beautiful 

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and fulfilling

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and fun

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whatever that looks like for each of us.

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So never give up on hopes and dreams,

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be true to who you are 

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and above all, always

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