At This Moment, I Am NOT Happy, and There Is Nothing YOU Can Do About It!

I appear to be losing it,  and humor and fantasy are my drugs of choice today.  At the present moment, I want to be pissed off, grumpy and right, even though it makes me feel like shit.

You have no idea how huge this is for me!  Because I’ve been on a spiritual quest for years,  I would “fight off” these feelings of pissedoffedness and they would just get buried deeper and deeper, surfacing at the weirdest moments. So this time, I just let ‘er rip.  FUCK ALL OF YOU!  I AM SO FUCKING MAD I COULD PUNCH YOU  AND JUSTIFY IT ALL THE WAY TO HELL AND BACK!  I HATE YOUR GUTTS, I WANT TO DIVORCE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU AND GET YOU THE FUCK OUT OF MY LIFE!!! 

I know in a few days, the Right Minded Sally will kick back in, so there is a part of me that seems to be oddly enjoying wallowing in this boggy swampy mess.  Victimhood just seems to be such delightful company today 🙂

Please do not talk to me family.  I have no kindness today, nor do I wish to search for any.  Go and find your own.  Perhaps if you shared it with me, it might make me feel a little better, but I’m kind of doubting it.

I don’t have an ounce of charity or grace left in my soul.  It has been sucked dry,  and if that makes you happy, so be it.  I know that misery loves company, but I refuse to share mine with you because mine is so very very special that there is no way in fucking hell that I will even let you have a taste of it.   Because I know how much you would love to get down in here with me and help me with the “Life Is So Unfair So Let’s See Who We Can Beat The Shit Out Of Slugfest” and I would like to claim this particular victimhood for my own damn self.

And you know what?  You are such good buddies to read my rant and that has finally made me smile, actually snicker, at this entire fucking mess.  Because it all just so damn silly.  Yay SALLEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!

Delightedly I’ve realized through this writing, that this quest has never been about spirituality. It’s all about me being happy, and there is nothing YOU can do about it. It is all up to Lovely Me :}

Pink Clouds and Much Love,
Sally

Caley

Tomorrow, Caley will turn 27.  Four weeks ago, she arrived at our home.  Caley is the only daughter of my brother Jeff, and his wife, Pam.  And uh, she made a mistake, which in turn made my brother furious.

She contacted me about 8 weeks ago, which was unusual in a couple of ways.   One, Caley has appeared to be a little asocial over the years so we have not been around her much, and two, she was writing to ask if she could come and live with us. 

Funny, as packed as our house seems to be with our 3 adult children living here, my first response to her very loving and heartfelt email, was, yes, of course you can.  I could tell by the way it was written, how hard it had been for her to write it. 

As I had just recently gone through the “death thing”, I knew Caley was being delivered to me for a very specific classroom, although I had no idea what it would be.  Still don’t.  I told her that it was really important to me that she contact Jeff as he was my brother, and even though he seemed to be upset right now, her only job was to love him as I love her.

A couple of days later Jeff called and said:  “Did you invite Caley to live with you?”  “Good Lord, no!  Why the hell would I do that?  My house is packed!”  He then became very appreciative that we would somehow squeeze her in here.  Nice. 

After a few days he called again and said:  “You know you really have to get on Caley about getting a job!.  She was fired from that good government job where she was set for life and blah blah blah…”  I replied:  “Well, the way I see it, my only job is to love Caley.  The Holy Spirit has delivered this Holy Child of God to me and who am I to refuse?”  Oh man, they hate when I talk like that.

A week later we are having dinner with Jeff and Pam, and Pam starts:  it’s Caley’s partner’s fault she is like this, Caley never used to be like this, it’s Jeff’s fault, and a never-ending onslaught.  And dammit, I got caught!!!

Suddenly I am seeing her as this entitled spoiled child, who has had everything handed to her, how dare she do this to her parents, there is no way she is going to lay around my house and not work.  FUCK!

So I laid down for a nap, offering this mess up.  Woke up, still pissed.  Spent the evening reading some Course stuff, still pissed.  Went to bed, offering, offering, offering.  Woke up the next morning, poof, it was all gone.  Big Love for Caley is back, hooray!

And what is my first grumpy-ass thought?  No, not appreciation for all this, but instead I am beating the shit out of myself that I even got caught in that damn mess.  But, that only lasted about a minute, as I gratefully realized:  Holy shit, Sally, that took less than 12 hours!  Good girl!

Ellie called from Canada last week, sounding a little feisty and not in a good way.  Obviously, she wants to get her two cents in here.  She said I want you to know that I agree with Jeff and Pam about Caley!  Whew!  OK, then you get to keep that thought, Mom, but it’s not mine. 

Hey, you guys, do you have any idea how hard this shit is?  I’m having enough trouble with my own damn mind, watching the thoughts, and this ongoing bombardment does not help one bit!!!

Oh, oh,….wait a minute here.  This is perfect!  After the “death thing” I arrived somewhere that appears to be sustainable.  Like as soon as the thoughts come in, I can offer them up, and poof, relief and peace.  You guys are awesome!  I brought you all into my own private classroom so that I could learn that it is indeed sustainable, I can listen to you and not be affected!    Yesssssssss…thankyouthankyouthankyou!

Welcome to Reform School Caley!  It seems we have all assembled here to regroup, learn how to Love, and then head out to wherever we are led.

And Caley just walked out the door….TO A JOB INTERVIEW! 

Once again, Love is leading us.  Nothing was said, every thought was offered up for reinterpretation, giving her the freedom to figure this all out.

 

 

Much Love and Pink Clouds,
Sally

Mehdi

My minivan had an oil leak, and the garage I always take it to,  was unable to fix it.  Even though it clearly says that it is a Mercury Villager, apparently it has a Nissan Quest engine.  Who knew?

They highly recommended Mehdi, at Best Foreign Auto.  Apparently, it is also a junk yard and he is the best guy in the area to work on foreign cars.  I called and was jerked into an altered state by a very pleasant-sounding voice.  Mehdi.   I was surprised because I don’t think I have ever called a garage or junk yard and have someone answer so sweetly.

He told me that my guys had already called and would it be convenient for me to bring it in on Thursday evening.  I said, sure.  On Thursday afternoon Mehdi called.  He was very apologetic and was sorry to inconvenience me, but his mechanic’s uncle had died, and he would not be able to work on my van to the following week.  I said, well that’s no problem, just let me know.

He called the following week, said his mechanic was back and I could bring the minivan in that afternoon.  When I arrived, I finally came face to face with him, and I felt like I had been suddenly swept into some kind of dream world.  He was just so damn happy.  He excitedly pointed out the box of parts to me to show me they had arrived and said the van would be ready the following afternoon.

My daughter, Leni, (and best ACIM buddy) had driven me and I told her what had happened and how damn happy Mehdi was.  I explained that I felt like I was on drugs, such was his impact.  (I have never taken any kind of anti-depressants, but I have always imagined that this is how that happiness would feel, and uh, I may be wrong on that).

The next day Mehdi called, and he was clearly distraught.  He said “Remember I showed you that box with the parts?”  I said, “yep”.  He says,  “Oh no, a part was missing!  I have ordered another one, but you cannot have your van until tomorrow!”  Now I’m still feeling like I am in this drug-induced bliss world of his and cannot imagine how anyone could be that upset over something so trivial.  So I reassured him that everything was fine, and it was definitely not an inconvenience for me.

  Mehdi calls the next day and says, “Your minivan is ready, and you can pick it up this afternoon!”  OK, buddy, thank you so much.

I know they mean well and it’s probably a sign of respect, but I always think it is so damn silly when these garage wizards begin to explain to me what the have done.

It’s like listening to Ken Wapnick in my early ACIM days, I swear they are speaking Martian. I do not have a technical brain, and I am quite content with that. I happen to be married to a wizard who can make or fix anything, so have always considered these types of things as “boy jobs.” Sorry to Gloria Steinem and the rest of ye emancipated women. It’s just a happy fact I realize about my own damn self.

After his very thorough explanation of the magic he had performed, he said: “You are such a nice lady, and I wanted to make a surprise for you. I looked all over my salvage yard (and at that point I realized I would never ever call them junk yards again!) and I could not find a hub cap for your car.” Really?! Who does that kind of stuff anymore? I join in his delight, and say, “Oh buddy, my minivan is 15 years old and I really don’t mind that it is missing a hub cap.” He will not be stopped, this genius of good will. “It is in such good shape and will look much better when I find one. I have access to salvage yards all over the country, and I will find you one. Then I will call you up, you come in and I will pop it on for you.” And then he clapped. Honest to God, I just wanted to start doing some kind of happy dance with him!

I leave, remain in bliss about his impact on me, and wonder if his world is always that magical. He calls me a couple of days later, and tells me he has found a hub cap and I should come in so he could pop it on.

I decided that I really should take him something, so I stopped at the local bakery and picked him out a nice box of petite fours. When I walked into his shop and handed them to him, he put them on the counter and gave me a big fat hug.

OK, buddy, I just have to know: ARE YOU ALWAYS THIS NICE TO PEOPLE AND SO DAMN HAPPY? He said, I try, but sometimes not so nice people come in here so I really appreciate people like you. ME? OK, I admit that after the “death thing” I have arrived in a pretty miraculous place, and perhaps he is just a reflection of my state of mind. He obviously was delivered to lovely me so I can relish in the experience of divine proof that this has all been worth it.

I am just so damn grateful to be here.

Much Love and Pink Clouds,
Sally

Uh…Looking At This Death Thing

So, through Retreats and teleclasses, our precious Nouk has us taking a really deep look at death. Yikes, and more yikes.

Nouk said: death is our greatest idol, the body is second. Ok, here we go.

We’ve been at this awhile and man things are coming up. I am now paraphrasing some of our answers: Student who has been diagnosed with Stage 4 Cancer is furious because she thinks she is not getting to go home to God as soon as she wanted. Nouk is laughing, and says you don’t go home to God through death. You awaken in the body, while you are still alive.

Another student says her thoughts are that she finally has earned her reward, the punishment is over, rest in peace. Now Nouk is hysterical and says: Jesus says RIP is for the living, not the dead. We have turned his message upside down. What the hell is going on? Everyone is sooooo confused, and upset.

Nouk also said to us: I have so much gratitude for all of you for doing these classes. The message is this: in life is liberation, NOT DEATH. We need to learn to give our body to the right teacher. This is our biggest conflict of all. You are all very brave, I bow at your feet.

And this is how it played out for me. I have been sick since the beginning of the year. First with a cold and then all kinds of weird flu bugs. When we began looking at death, THIS DAMN CLOSELY, I really got sick. Here goes my mind: the first day, I was sure I was having a heart attack, the second day it was cancer, then it was pleurisy, the day following that was a gallbladder infection, and you will notice, that I was making them all seemingly less threatening, less death-like to me, as the days went on. During all this time, I was doing a mantra Nouk had taught us: I choose only to follow God’s Will for myself, from this moment on. In so doing, I choose to forfeit my own independent will in all areas of my life. Along with, Please reveal to me what you would have me know. And I would find myself doing everything I could to distract myself from saying them. But it dawned on me, this was my only way out of this fucking mess, so I continued, badgering myself with beat-me-up thoughts, all the while. Sheesh, such a mess.

About one week into this, I realized what I was doing. Sally, how many times have you been over this? This is no hierarchy of illusions, but oh my, how you do insist! Shit! I got it! No matter what I had, or pretended I had, it didn’t make any damn difference. A splinter is the same as cancer. Hell yes! Hallelujah! Something is finally sinking in!

And with that insight came, along with an immediate healing, some brand new to me, knowledge. By sticking with the mantras, by forcing my own damn self, to keep looking, I realized with great delight, that now I am handing more and more over and the feeling is quite exhilarating. And that is not a word I would ever have used to describe my journey through ACIM.

Actually, this is now fun. If I find myself trying to solve a dilemma (yeah right), and by the way, that is ALL the time, I am finding it easier and quicker to say: oh wait, here let me give this to You, because You know way better, and I love the surprise endings. I can’t wait to see where You will take this. It feels like the greatest game ever.

Much Love and Pink Clouds,
Sally

A Holy Instant Strung Together Becomes Holy Hours

A friend of mine, with the help of his ex-partner and now partner, has raised his niece since she was a teenager, and her Mom died young. She was like a daughter to him. Nearly 3 weeks ago, she was discovered dead in her bed. Only 33 years old. Clearly, this is not supposed to be how it happens, according to the world. The autopsy has shown no reason for her death.

I told him, when the time came, I would help him with her apartment. He said, no thank you, we will manage it.

I received a call on Friday night. He said, if you are still interested in helping us, I’d like you to come by and check it out before you agree to anything. This particular Holy Child of God appeared to love to collect things.

When I arrived, their grief was covering them like a sorry shroud. Now add to that: shame, disbelief, guilt, and of course, lots and lots of anger. I took a look, and said, no problem, I’ll be here tomorrow morning to help. Fortunately, I have no personal stake in this and can be with them as an observer, as well as a worker bee. I also realized what a beautiful classroom was being presented to me, thank You very much.

I emailed one of my ACIM/KnowThySelf Retreat buddies, who is brilliant. I explained what was going on and she said to remember the niece is not guilty, nobody is guilty. You will see it and then they can see it. Good God, of course! That is brilliant Kay, and I am so deeply appreciative to you for reminding me.

When I arrived the next morning, they had already begun the clearing, along with the former partner. My buddy then began to bitch about our Holy Child of God. I said, wait wait, our only job is to love Becky today. He shouted to the others: Sally said we can only love Becky today! Every time something appeared as some kind of made-up mess, one of us would say: Bless you Becky! And an amazing thing happened. By giving this all up to Holy Spirit, by only loving her, we literally moved mountains in the next 6 hours. Just like Jesus said we could!

We were all giddy by the end of the day with what we had accomplished. Really, at the beginning it looked quite insurmountable, but with our joining together, in Love, we were able to accomplish something that should have taken many, many days.

Today, over 24 hours later, that Love has impacted my life in so many ways, I am having a hard time keeping track of it. What started out as a single Holy Instant, is now being strung together to many many hours, and oh yeah, I am so getting this is how it is supposed to be 🙂

Much Love and Pink Clouds,
Sally

My Mom Is So Cute (February, 2013)

Ellie’s birthday is coming up, at the end of February.  She calls and announces:  I will be arriving on Friday for my birthday, we will eat at the Roadhouse, I am paying and there will be none of that damn singing and dancing at my table.  OK, got it, Ellie!

 

Poof, a thought comes flying in.  I’ll go and buy her gift cards for the Roadhouse, ha ha, and she’ll have to pay with them.  I call Jeff and he says, well great minds think alike, I too am going to buy her gift cards.  I said, sigh, it’s pretty bad when you are trying to outsmart your 82 year old Mom.

 

She arrives and she is pissing vinegar.  She stopped at a store along the way and saw they had a 6-pack of Yeungling (beer my husband Wayne loves) and so she put it in her cart.  When she was checking out, the clerk asked for her ID.  Cute.  It’s just a store policy, but that is not the way SHE saw it.  She told him that her ID was in her car and she was not going to retrieve it.  The poor clerk (only following store rules) says, fine, what is your birthdate?  Quite unaware he has managed to start World War III.   She said, well I was just so pissed off that I lied to him.  WTFf???  I am laughing so hard and asked why in the hell would you lie to him,  and she said she did not know.

 

The answer came later as we arrived back at my home, after dinner.  We were talking about the ID story and she said:  “Well, I just can’t face the fact that I’m going to be 83!”  It took a few minutes for Jeff and I to convince her that since she was born in 1931, she was only going to be 82.  Holy shit, suddenly she is just so damn happy about her age.  So, I’m connecting dots here thinking, well fuck, maybe she doesn’t like odd numbers or something.  Who knows what transpires in that damn divine mind of hers.

She leaves for Canada at the same time I am leaving for a birthday party, about an hour and a half north of here.  My cell rings and she is at a pay phone and clearly manic.  She has lost her new wallet with a $100 bill in it, her American credit and debit cards and her cell phone.  She said:  “Don’t be alarmed!”  I said:  “I am clearly not, YOU ARE!”  She humbly replied:  “You’re right.”

 

Now, this losing of “things” with Ellie dates back to a very early memory of mine when I was 5 years old, so really, it’s nothing new.  I am thinking, shit, it’s probably in one of the many, many, MANY bags you carry around with you.

 

When she arrives back in Canada, she calls and is in full-fledge fright.  Sigh, ok, sorry for you, I’m not buying into it.  The next few days are a flurry of calls, cancelling this, cancelling that, oh dear, I hope whomever finds this needs the $100, and now since the restaurant we went to just happens to be where two of my kids work, they are all sucked into this black hole, and apologizing to my kids they cannot find it.  She is sure she lost it there!

 

Two days later I am reaching for a storage bag on the bottom shelf of my baker’s rack and think what in it the hell is that plastic bag….OMG….I KNOW WHAT IT IS! 

 

Ha Ha.  Cellphone, wallet, a rain bonnet and a container of ibuprofen.  I call, she says “hang on.”  Comes back and says:  “I had to collect myself.”  According to ACIM, what does this mean?  I said well are the thoughts:  “I am getting old, the kids are going to think I’m losing it, maybe I shouldn’t even be driving, blah blah blah.”  She said, “Oh, that’s it exactly!” 

 

Congrats Ellie, you’ve reached a new level!  Instead of blaming the world for what is going on, you have now projected it back onto yourself.  And although, this is a very tough stage to go through, the good news is that it is much quicker.

 

And then I climbed up on my lofty perch and proclaimed:  IT’S A SIGN FROM GOD TO QUIT CARRYING ALL THOSE FUCKING BAGS AROUND!!!”

Much Love and Pink Clouds,

Sally

 

Pope Sal? Pope Dubel? Perhaps Just A Symbol

When I read today that the Pope was resigning, my mind went insidiously bonkers! Hey! Why not me? I could be the first woman Pope!

I posted it on Facebook and looks like perhaps it’s gaining momentum. Someone told me that if I get 1 million likes, that the Vatican has to pick me. I mean, it must be true, right? It was on the internet.

I’m thinking probably my family would love to live in their very own walled City, (oops I think the Vatican is walled in, well hell, if not, it will be) complete with adoring fans, and that would be perfect for Max, my up-and-coming musician. I mean there is even a private stage up there where everyone has to look at you. And really, I think the world is ready for a new set of rules…DUBEL-STYLE!

Oh, and then I went to well how ’bout the Grammy Awards? They would have to let me in, and with the new dress code, my robes would be perfect! Those lovely Pope hats? Clearly I would be a trendsetter. Plus, since I’m the Pope, they would have to let me sit next to Justin Timberlake, and I would boot Taylor Swift to the back of the room for all those mean songs she insists on singing 😦 Max could write me a lovely Pope song, and I would not even lip-sync, it would be all me, all POPE, all live! Oh and Justin, of course.

Besides my Facebook likes, I’m not quite sure about my credentials. I was raised without religion, and one of the silliest things I ever heard in my entire life is that crazy rule about eating fish on Fridays. Really? Obviously, whoever thought that one up has never been a cook that had to clean her own fryer. Plus, there seems to be way too many damn interpretations of the Bible. I’ll get right on cleaning that shit up. OK, Sally, think, what would be an appropriate platform? Remember, you’re making all this up anyway, go for it. Hmmmm….how about Love? Really? It could be that simple? OK, I’m liking this.

And by the way Pope Pickers, I don’t want to have to take some kind of test, unless I am allowed to invent new answers and way more useful edicts or decrees or whatever the hell you call them. And you have to let me pass… ’cause I’m a girl:)

Well, there that should do it. I’m running on Love. Surely, it cannot be that difficult, can it?

Much Love and Pink Clouds,
Sally

P.S. My son Sam just texted me and asked if I would be a Popess? Hey Sam, let’s have a contest and they can vote. The winner gets to spend a week with us in the new Pope City (holy shit I just remembered we get a Popemobile too!) with Justin (oh good Lord, you do know I mean Timberlake and not Bieber, even though 2/3 of my family is Canadian) of course. I just love when my kids join in on this with me.