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Today’s the day!

18 May

As I transition from one job to another, one role to another and a way of life in which the pendulum has swung opposite of where I was headed, I wonder on certain days if I’m doing the right thing.
Then this message comes in from TUT.com today.

Remember you once told me, Ramona, that if ever all of the circumstances in your life were aligned just so, your soon-to-be friends were in all the right places at all the right times, and the financial markets, social climate, and global energies had all reached optimal points… you’d want to be gently nudged as a subtle sign that it was time to start doing new things, saying new things, and visualizing so that you might catch these gargantuan waves of change and surf to dazzling new heights?

TODAY’S THE DAY!!

Hang ten,
The Universe

Oh, Ramona, you also wanted me to remind you something about a home and Cadbury Fruit and Nut Bars… go figure.

 
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Posted by on May 18, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Now that I’m off the phone

11 May

Ever since I began to communicate, it seems that I haven’t shut up. I have recently come to realize that I was spending an inordinate amount of my time, and I mean my personal private time, on the phone. It came by accident that my phone would stop ringing, but that’s what it took to recognize that the little device we are all so attached to is possibly keeping us too attached and more detached.
Let me explain. Just a few months ago my best friend of years left town without calling me and at least say goodbye. We talked a few times a week, for a long talk. So when I called her for three weeks without any returned calls I found out that she had moved away. I was so hurt that I cut her out of my life. I didn’t call her again and didn’t want to. I just thought that we were better friends than that.
Another good friend fell in love and joined a family of three children. Sherri and I talked every single night for at least a half an hour. Now Sherri is busy with her life. We talk once a week to catch up for ten minutes or so, but we do touch base.
Then my main source, my sister Lola, who I talk to every single morning as I sip my green tea has decided to cut me out of her life. She is apparently upset because I sent the police to her home when I thought she might be in some trouble. Understandably, she didn’t care much for my actions and so now she will punish me with her absence. I talked to Lola for the last time on Saturday evening when she was crying and asking for a plane ticket home. I never heard from her again. I have tried to reach her at work and she just tells whoever answers the phone there to say that she isn’t there. So it’s over now.
It hasn’t quite been a week since my last conversation with Lola and already I can see what I was giving up. I now sip on my tea alone, with my thoughts, with my aspirations and with myself. I used to think that the daily venting that I was doing was healthy. Turns out not to be so. The ranting and raving about how wrong things could be was just an affirmation of how things would go from now on.
Several things have happened since I got off the phone. At first I felt lonely, but then I started thinking and processing things for myself. Beginning in the morning, instead of jumping out of bed instantly these days, I find myself laying there and enjoying my thoughts. I have a chat with God and process the dreams, which have increased greatly since getting off of the phone. Now I’m actually seeing how the dreams are cleaning up old business. For example last night I dreamt that I was cutting an ex girlfriend’s hair. When the haircut was done she dogged me in front of everyone for making her sweep up the hair. Now this ex, in the dream was morphing between all of my exes. As if it was all the same yet different. As I analyzed it I could see that I was processing a conversation that I had with a co-worker earlier in the day about my relationships having many similar characteristics and that I had a pattern of behavior that I tended to be attracted to.
This morning I woke up and stayed in bed for twenty minutes while I stretched my limbs, my mind and my spirit. Then I sipped my green tea on the patio without muttering a single word. I heard the peace that I am capable of having. Peace that is content. I’m grateful for everything that I have, everything that I see and everything that I get to do.

 
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Posted by on May 11, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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The Power of a Shower

10 May

No one thinks much of a shower. It’s something we all do in the morning before we head out for our day of mission. As I care for my mother who has Alzheimer’s I have found that the shower is such a sacred place. Once that warm water hits her head she starts to loosen up and relax. This is the place where she doesn’t have to remember anything. The warm water opens her arteries and her mind. I must say that it is one of my favorite tasks with her. She tells me everything in the shower. Things that I already know, but for her, she thinks she is sharing her life long secrets with me. To her I’m just a stranger who is assisting her. To me this is the most wonderful space in the world. It’s just me and her and warm water. Warm waters that wash away the shame, the regret and any other negative shadow that sometimes consumes her. I can take her into the shower while she rants and raves that she is leaving us all. Then when the water hits, it all changes. I watch as her body goes limp, as she moans in delight and as she slips into a cleaner perception of her life. By the time the shower is over she tells me that she could never leave here. That this is where she wants to be forever.
The greatest honor I have had is to care for my mother. I can’t explain how rewarding it feels to be here right now. I never imagined that this is what I would be doing at this time in my life, which only makes it so much greater because I could never have planned to grow so much by doing something so simple.
My mother has taught me to enjoy the simplest of things like the shower. Who knew it had so much power? I didn’t. Until now.
Thank you Mami.

 
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Posted by on May 10, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Life’s Little Helpings

08 May

We all like to think that we are waiting for that big payday. We are constantly driving for that jackpot. That one big thing that is going to be the pay off for all that we do for the world. We deserve it, don’t we? What is it that we are truly looking for?
This is the very concept under which Ponzi schemers lay the foundation for the big gig rip off. These scammers will offer better returns than any other broker can give. As I watch the news daily, I hear of more people who lost their life savings to the “big pay off” scam. Only once did I hear one of the victims say that they shared responsibility in the disappearance of their nest egg. This guy actually admitted that he wanted more than his helping, more than his neighbor’s helping, more than anyone could achieve.
I guess I can relate in a different way. I’m not a money person, what I mean by that is that money is not a score card that I am using to measure the success of my existence. My score card measures the impact of my existence. How many lives did I touch? How many changes have I made in myself that altered my reality to 7th heaven? Can I be trusted? Will I be there? Am I here?
As the primary caretaker for my mother who has Alzheimer’s I have learned that the best pay off in life are the little helpings. You can’t surf a wave all day, it lasts just seconds. Nevertheless, it’s a wonderful helping. The first glance of the love of your life, it’s one moment and yet still an awesome helping. The last dance at the greatest party you ever attended is a couple of minutes long and still a nice helping. An orgasm last just seconds, a wonderful helping.
Give us this day our daily bread. Not weekly, not monthly and not more than anyone. I know when I’m being rewarded here on earth. The helpings come whether I see them or not. Helpings are equally distributed among man and animal.
The little helpings are just a sampling for what we will be capable of handling later. It’s also a true measure of my presence.

 
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Posted by on May 8, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Leaving Langoliers

04 May

I have spent the last five months working in a barbershop in Longwood Florida. The name of the barbershop is Waggoner’s and people tend to pronounce it Wagoneer’s. Somehow they see the double g, but tend toward pronouncing the double e. So I started to call it Langoliers. It was hard answering the phone without saying Langoliers.
Well now I am leaving Langoliers and I wanted to say goodbye to the team that I have come to know as sisters in this journey we call life.
To Donna Ciabatonni, I want to say what a pleasure it has been to work by your side. Your energy toward healthy living has definitely had an impact on me and has made me more conscious about what I put in my body. I think about my body in a more positive way as a result of spending time with you. I knew the day I met you that I wanted to be more like you and now I am. Thank you.
To Shannnon Eidem, I know that I have only worked one shift with you in the five months that I have worked here, but I enjoyed working with you that day. You were easy to talk to and I wished that I could have spent more time getting to know you. I feel like I got to know you through Donna and Kelly and from them I heard of you as being a warm friend. I sensed as much when we spent that one day together.
To Kelly Wilson, what can I say? Kelly, Kelly, Kelly, what can I say? Even though we worked together one day a week I feel like I got to know you the best. Your honesty and sincerity is refreshing. Your comfortable way of sitting tells others to just relax. I can remember the day I interviewed and you sat with me in the waiting area in that relaxed state. It made me so comfortable about the transition I was about to make. I’m always in need of an energy adjustment and you really had a way of taming my crazy world. I felt like I could tell you anything and you would never judge me. Thanks for being that.
To Veronica Diaz I say that while you came in on the tail end of my employment here at Langoliers I feel like I got to see you as a great addition. Although you don’t work in the shop you have been an intricate part of our lives in the barbershop. It was great having a Cuban counterpart to talk to on a daily basis. You came in and energized everyone in here. Like a breath of fresh air you got everyone excited about our environment. Thanks for being yourself and encouraging us all to look deep inside to see what we had to offer the world.
To Nick Waggoner, to be bluntly honest after interviewing with you I wasn’t sure I wanted the job. I accepted it only because of meeting Donna and Kelly and the fact that you wouldn’t be working in the barbershop. No offense, but you just didn’t give me the warm fuzzies. I understand that better now that I recognize what your job demands of you, and that you must be a bit hard and detached to survive on a daily basis. As I let you know that I was leaving I saw a different side to you. Thank you for your encouragement in the venture I am about to embark on. It means a lot to me that you actually shared your experience with me that day.
To all you ladies I would like to say that I envy all your lives. I see your long relationships in which you live, love and fight. Your commitment to family was so invigorating. To watch you fulfill what you knew was best for your kids, your partners and yourselves has been a lesson in love and longevity. Your commitment most of all is unbreakable and I have learned from you women to stand strong in what I know to be right.
I will miss you all and I hope that we can all meet again someday on this journey we are on.
You can put the radio back on WMMO, but just remember me when you hear jazz.
Mucho, Mucho, Mucho amor! MMMWA to you all!

 
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Posted by on May 4, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Why I Write

03 May

In the sixties the motto for children was “children should be seen and not heard.” Reinforced by this motto, my mother never gave her children a voice. I can remember the first time I ever tried to give her my opinion. We were shopping for shoes and my mother asked me if I liked the shoes that she was showing to me. I was brave and said no. She went into a rage and tore down the shoe display embarrassing me to no end. I learned then that my opinion did not need to be heard.
I began writing as an outlet for my thoughts. Sometimes I stayed up all night writing the same letter. I would write and rewrite until it was perfect. I wrote letters to the president, to friends, to Donny Osmond and most anyone I had an opinion about. Most of these letters never made it to the mail box.
Somehow I attained a typewriter that wrote cursive. That was it. I was writing all the time. I would document the events going on around me; sometimes I would embellish them just for fun. I was addicted to writing. I didn’t want to communicate any other way. As a matter of fact, I was terrible at the verbal communication. I had no experience in verbalizing where as when I was writing I had wings to soar with the freedom to express what I thought. People who I have written to have always told me that they enjoyed the journey I provided with just a simple letter.
I remember a girlfriend that I had early on who I caught having a letter relationship with her ex. This would probably be the equivalent to today’s online chatting or facebook. I intercepted one of the letters from her ex and decided to have a chat with this “Kathy.”
So I began the letter by introducing myself to her. I told her that my favorite sport was football. I didn’t like watching the game so much, but I loved to play. I went on to tell her that my favorite position was defense and I continued on about how I loved to keep the offense from scoring. Then I said that my favorite defensive move was to intercept. I explained in detail how I would keep my eye on the quarterback and I could tell what their intended target would be even before the ball left their hand. I was very good at this particular aspect of the game. Some would say that I had even perfected it. I explained my record of intercepting at least twice a game. Then I gave her the punch. I let her know that I had intercepted her letter. That I had defended her offense and if she continued to write to my girlfriend I was going to burn her house down. I stayed up all night to perfect this letter.
This is one of those letters that never made it to the mailbox. I confessed to my girlfriend what I had done. I gave her the letter that her ex had written and then I let her read the one I was going to send. She was amazed at how I expressed myself in writing compared to how I spoke. She let me know that I was more intelligent in writing. I wasn’t sure if this was a compliment or not, but I did come to realize that she was right. I expressed myself more freely when I wrote. I came to realize that I never felt safe communicating verbally so I relied on what I call the pen of revenge. I began telling people to be nice to me because I was documenting everything. No one listened.
When they read the book I’m sure they will wish that they had.

 
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Posted by on May 3, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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To be or not to be…Afraid

30 Apr

Ever since I was a little girl I’ve been afraid of insects. There was a time when I would play with caterpillars and lightning bugs, but somewhere along the way I became afraid. My mother who was a brave woman and didn’t take any shit off of anyone was deathly afraid of bugs. I’m blaming her for making me afraid of bugs. I was so afraid that I would go to great lengths to avoid them.
In 1985 my sister, Lola and I were cruising in my mother Grand Prix, you know the one with the T-Tops. There we were in Miami cruising in such a cool car. I was driving and Lola was in the passenger seat as we blasted disco music going down the street.
Then a giant spider crawled up the windshield. We both screamed. This was before seatbelt laws and so my first response was to jump out of my window, but Lola pulled me back in my seat, crawled over me and jumped out of my window while the car was still rolling. I was right behind her. We rolled around collecting gravel with our elbows. We watched the car as it rolled into someone’s yard stopping just before their living room window. The homeowners came running out of the house as Lola and I checked out our wounds.
“What happened?” The homeowners asked us. We told them of the giant spider and they were enraged. “You almost ran your car into my house because of a spider?” The man asked us in exasperation. “You jumped out of your car and abandoned it because of a spider? What if the car would have hit someone? What if someone got hurt? How do you just jump out of a rolling car?” The man was angry. “Now get your car out of my yard.” He demanded.
“I’m not getting back in that car.” I told the man. He ran into his house while his wife tried to reason with us. The man came back with a can of insect spray. He sprayed the car until the can was empty. “There, no spider can survive that, now get your car out of my sight.” He demanded.
“If you don’t produce a dead spider I’m not getting back into that car.” I told him calmly. “I want this car out of my yard now!” The man yelled. I grabbed Lola and said to him that he can move the car, but we were walking home. Lola and I walked home and when we told my mother that we had abandoned the car because of a spider she without delay found someone to retrieve the car. It was a “Marielito” named Juan who was a tough refugee from the Mariel boat lift. He wasn’t scared of anything.
Juan brought the car home and we bombed the car for three days straight. No one would get in that car until the dead spider was produced to prove it wouldn’t be there anymore. We would make Juan check the car every day until the dead spider finally appeared. When Juan saw the size of that spider he told us that if he knew the size of the spider was not exaggerated by us, he would never have driven that car.
My mother taught us to be afraid of bugs. She was always plagued by them. It seems I was too, until the day that I lived alone and the only thing that scared me about that was who was going to kill the bugs. I have been known to go spend the night at a friend’s house because of an insect in my house. Then one day I declared my size and advantage over these insects. I started killing them myself and it was empowering. Once I did that, the bugs disappeared. I don’t see them anymore. Not like I used to. They may be crawling all over my house, which I doubt, but I don’t see them. It seems that my fear of them attracted them.
My mother set the hardwiring to be afraid of something that I had total power over. I broke it and live in great harmony with the insects that used to rule my life.
When something plagues you need to investigate it, see it for what it really is and conquer it.

 
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Posted by on April 30, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Auto Zone

26 Apr

Where is it that we go when we go into the “Auto Zone?” You know the place where we go when we have done something on auto. For example, you leave the house and get a mile away, and then it hits you like a lightning bolt. Did I close the garage door? You turn the car around and go back to find that the door was tightly shut. So my question is this. Who was driving the car in reverse while I was closing the garage door?
People say well, maybe you did it and forgot but my argument is that if we forgot, then why can’t we remember? My theory says that we went into the “Auto Zone.”
Let me explain more. This week the hook on my blow-dryer at work broke. Now I have hung that dryer from that hook for approximately 5 months. The very first customer that I serviced after the hook broke watched me attempt to hang that blow dryer at least three times in course of his haircut. We laughed at how automatic it was for me to do so. This is the zone.
The best way to relate to this is when you pass your exit by a few miles before you realize that you have gone too far. They say it’s because we are so lost in thought that we missed our exit. Again I ask who was in charge of the car when I was lost. What part of me is able to handle the task of aligning the car in its lane and watch for other traffic? Could it be the same one that keeps me breathing, my heart beating and my kidneys cleaning when I don’t think about it?
According to Hypnotist Carl Allen Schoner our subconscious is driving. Not just when we wonder off but all of the time. Driving, like walking or riding a bike becomes a subconscious function so that our conscious is freed up for bigger tasks which is why we come up with so many good ideas when we are driving.
So the next time you go into your Auto Zone know that you are perfectly safe with your subconscious leading you when you are busy elsewhere.
It’s how we are hardwired.

 
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Posted by on April 26, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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What the Universe Said

25 Apr

This was my message from the universe @ TUT.com

A main “Criterion of Consciousness” for the human experience, Ramona, is never having all you want. For as one dream comes true, another swiftly takes its place. Not having all you want is one of life’s constants.

And learning to be happy while not yet having all you want is the first “Criterion of Joy.” Nail it, and for the rest of your life people will be asking what it is about you.

Desire, Ramona, is a beautiful thing.

The Universe

Yeah, Ramona, as if they weren’t already asking.

Actually, dreaming has always been my gateway to fulfilling any desire.

 
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Posted by on April 25, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Eye,Eye,Eye

21 Apr

I was listening to some office drama. You know the usual scene where someone helps you with something and then when you have the chance to help them and you tell them hell no. My sister asked me why people do that, and while it was quite easy to answer, I had to really peel back my judgment sensor and dig deep. Why would anyone do that? My only answer was because they forgot. They forgot who they were and who the people around them were.
We are so busy with our everyday lives that we tend to forget how much we love each other. We forget to honor one another. We have our i-pads, i-pods, IUD’s, ikea, and our imdb’s. We don’t need anything. We report to the IRS. We fight the IRA. We watch “I am legend”, “i- Robot” and” We are Marshal.” How are we expected to know who we are if we keep using “I” in front of words that we are not?
If I learned anything at all from the “course in miracles,” it was to be careful of what you direct “I am” to. We behave in certain ways and say “I am” that way. I am rich, or I am poor, or I am sick. Get a grip on this casual usage because it will cause you to forget.
My point is that we need to take the “I” out of the places that it doesn’t belong. Then we need to be careful to make sure we do place “I” with words that compliment us and those around us. We can never forget who we are. Most important we can never forget to honor everyone, including ourselves.
So if you find yourself suffering from this eye disease, the cure is easy. Just remember who you really are. Don’t ever forget to honor others as they are you, living a different experience.

 
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Posted by on April 21, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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