Take the Spotlight I Like How The Light Falls On Me Right Here

While I watch the frantic fight for center stage quietly from the wings, I begin to learn things about this place called Los Angeles. Not only is the sun searing, forcing the natives to "dress down" and provocative becomes banal but so is the competition for survival that hunger lends to a predatory dynamic.

The sexy shock value, the forced "larger-than-life" personalities and utter confusion that follows some people here makes for some interesting navigating. No, not everyone here is nuts.

I've learned that the millionaire next door switched on survival mode will have a lot in common with the starving artist. They both will fight and people on survival mode have no time to contemplate values or doing good for their fellow man. They'll do their "goodness" AFTER they are rich and famous.

I've been taught that money is NOT evil rather that it magnifies and exposes the qualities a person ALREADY has. A generous spirit is not borne overnight especially after years of stepping on people and other neurotic behaviors that steam roll over one's beloved humankind.

I wish I didn't have to gain an education on "steam rollers in my neighborhood" but perhaps that is LIFE. Maybe there are nutty people everywhere fighting for plates of recognition. Meanwhile, I step back... I'm not part of the same cast... of this sad comedic carnage. I entertain thoughts of moving. I go out and make new friends and am constantly throwing hungry lions out the door.

Life sometimes feels like a circus. Sometimes I get to walk around with cotton candy and other times, I have to crack a whip and manage a lion cage.

What would be REALLY nice is if I found someone to watch life with and laugh. Because there is more to life than survival.... especially at my circus.

JNET

Priming the Mind

"Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow."

Albert Einstein

Is it possible to extreme make-over your mind?

PRIME: (verb) 1. To make ready; prepare 2. To prepare (a surface) for painting by covering with size, primer, or an undercoat. 3. To inform or instruct beforehand; coach.

PRIME: (noun) 1. First in excellence, quality, or value.

I am reading a book called "Blink" by Malcolm Gladwell (author of The Tipping Point). I am on Chapter Two: "The Locked Door: The Secret Life of Snap Decisions" and am particularly fascinated by a test that psychologist John Bargh had devised. Simple enough tests to unscramble words but they weren't as straightforward as they appeared. What appeared to look like a language test was really a test on the adaptive unconscious.

Here's a few of the examples used in the Blink book...

sky the seamless gray is
us bingo sing play let
shoes give replace old the

Go ahead and unscramble the words to make a simple sentence. I struggled a bit, got a headache and then put it aside. There are key words that the psychologist found SUGGESTED to the mind to THINK being OLD. He changed the test and sprinkled in words like "bold", "rude," and another "respect" and "courteous" and then had a PART two experiment, the people tested were then told to talk go out and speak to someone for their next assignment (the next someone was "engaged" in a staged 10 minute conversation with another person. Those who were primed with the aggressive words interrupted on average after about 5 minutes. But the people primed to be polite NEVER interrupted.

Several examples of tests followed where people were primed to think about what it would mean to be a professor, to think about pranks, to think about race before taking a test. The test results showed that priming the mind affected the test results.

Is free will an illusion? How much of the time are we running on auto pilot? How susceptible are we to outside influences?

Priming the Mind was the topic of my blog radio show today. Though I "primed" myself with being committed to doing the show, I also was dealing with residual stress of very little sleep and recovering from car trouble anxieties from the day before. I had not done as much preparation as I usually do, I did not have a special guest and I did not invite my friends to call in.

It was a great recipe for struggle and I languished during the first half of the show before I got that talking about positivity is one thing and acting is another thing. Normally when having a bad day, I would have friends for support or I would relax, play the piano, read a book... DO SOMETHING.. but I was anchored to the show and the moment.

And so I did the only thing that made sense to be happy and stop struggling... I did not cut off the show short, instead, I just left the show for a moment, I disappeared and called a friend to call in and keep me company.

If I'm here to write about priming one's mind toward success and happiness, it doesn't make sense to languish in struggle forever. I didn't want to archive failure into my blogtalk radio files. The second half of the show demonstrates not entertaining the doldrums and using some sense to turn things around.

JNET

Flying Notions

A lot of life can be lived in 48 hours...

I thought it would be a nice surprise to visit my mom for her birthday and have a quick visit with my brothers... En route, I side-stepped a marriage proposal with all the trappings to make any normal girl swoon. Unfortunately, I am not that "normal" girl and anyways, I'm not dating anyone so its surreal to have affections and devotions bubble from the platonic pool.

G: "Tell your mom that I've asked you a gazillion times to marry me..."

Even Mystic had a line for mom as I made way to visit her ...

M: "Say hello to my future mother-in-law...."

Mom would be thrilled to hear that I found a knight in shining armor. In my eyes, they all look like they are polishing... Shining? No... not yet.

So I landed at my brother's. I let my mom play with her friends and told her that I'll see her in the morning for her birthday. I wanted to play with my niece and have a gander at the family's newest addition.

I did not sleep until 3:30am. I did not write. I did not read... I instead held my brother's inconsolable baby; fed and burped the cute creature while my brother played catch up with house stuff while his wife rested. (She was to take the 5am shift)

Any romance of babies I had was brought to a halting reality... Children are a load of responsbility but WOW. There is really no room for a creative quiet thought to wander to have a life of its own when there's a screaming one in your arms with a direction of its own.

It would be nice to fall in love. It would be nice to have children of my own someday... But, I am having trouble seeing how I may enjoy a certain unfetteredness that IS my identity through my current prospects. I cannot phantom giving up the space I have and need for free stream of thought.

I ignore incoming calls and even live people when they walk into my house and I am practicing the piano or writing. I'm the girl who sometimes checks her phone messages at the END of the week.

I adore my nieces all the same and woke up to find my brother asleep on the couch with his newborn finally quiet and asleep on his chest. My college roommate gave me a call...

C: "Let's meet up for lunch and play catch up."

I found my car dead in my brother's driveway. It seems that the battery went out over the night. Mom was busy and she said her mechanic was booked full for the day. My brother dropped me off to meet with C for lunch where she was hanging with her parents and her husband. It was a short visit to play catch up. I wasn't eating for I had plans with my family...

Fast forward a few hours and I was with THE CLAN. I didn't get to look after my car because the shop closed, having no opening for me and I figured Mr. AAA can test my battery for me when he charges it up. I enjoyed family time, took loads of pictures, laughed, and watched mom get all misty eyed and happy to have her ducklings in a row. We had a good time.

Mr. AAA did not bring his battery testing equipment. He got my car running and I decided to chance the 150 mile drive home. They only tow 100 miles and I was beyond the limit. I figured if I could just get 50 miles north, I might get all the way home or at least save the $300 towing fees. If I stayed at mom's there was no guarantee that my car was going to get fixed. Her mechanic is a fervent lover of Japanese cars... Mine is German.

I made it home by 5am. The car story is an adventure of its own. I spoke to a dozen people and made for a memorable night for my mom. I think there is a happy ending, it's still in process though. Despite the chaos that Life delivers, there is nothing like the silence that I know as my bestfriend.

I am the girl who does want everything; silence, love, babies, adventure, travel. I saw fleeting glimpses of what is possible... but I have a specific vision and dream and that is what I live toward.

JNET

When Life Serves You Lemons...

Sometimes learning to give Life that certain "twist" isn't an exciting endeavor. Sometimes Life's "twists" are an awful tangle; a seemingly terrible dance in which one can't leave the room. More often than we may prefer Life serves a bag of lemons and forces us to be master lemonade makers; the subject of this week's blogtalkradio/ jnetsworld.

While some of us forge through Life in rooms full of rotting lemons, some of us will practice the alchemy of making gold out of Life's unexpected gems.

Darling, I know how to make a strawberry lemonade, an Arnold Palmer, a lemon twist, and a lemon drop martini and though I sometimes wish I can face someone off with a lemon pie, I've learned to sit out the heat and know the comfort of a good and honest glass of lemonade.

So what recipes have you learned in your own Lemonade University? Who were your professors? Your parents, your neighbors, your lovers, your enemies, your television programs???

And if you're still sucking on your seventh day, month, year or decade of lemons... Why has it become your preferred flavor? Luckily, most of us have figured out how to sugar up the sour times or see that a little bit of lemon has the power to excite an otherwise predictable and bland life.

Interestingly enough, as I reflect upon my earliest lemony moments, I would like to declare that it is all my mom's fault. Disagree away and be disagreeable she encouraged; it was our freedom of expression in the space of what appeared like chaos and discord. It took several years of matches did I understand the game and found that she wasn't being a total weird toad and we both enjoyed serving it up.

I've flown the nest and didn't earn my lemonade stand degree until after college. Life had a few make-up courses. I had to learn to make peace when I'd rather put on my running shoes. I found that I was pre-programmed in ways that didn't create the autonomy I wished for my personal goals. I had a few bags of lemons laying about.

What is a girl to do except learn to get cooking. I am not a lemon farmer.. I'm a freakin creative lemonade maker.

This Life has not been roses, lollipops and sunshine 24/7. I wasn't borne into that Life. Has anyone? No matter what one's station in Life is, no one is immune to disappointment, regret, heartbreak or pain. Everyone has tasted lemons.

Sometimes it seems that I get a new batch every week and the only thing I can do is be quick... slice it up and serve it fresh and enjoy sitting out the heat with a new recipe for Life.

I saw a picture of a few kids minding their own lemonade stand this past week. What were they raising funds for? A new toy? Candy money? No... they were raising money to help out victims of a terrible disaster.

A lemonade stand for peace? A lemonade stand to bring comfort and support to others and make for a better world?

Why not?

What are you doing with YOUR lemons?

JNET

Life Isn't Black and White... nor Red, White and Blue

The fireworks fanfare faded fast.

By dawn everything I thought was ... came to a screeching halt. My host and friend of many years had a moment of weakness in the twilight hours and made a passive assault. Alcohol was not the "cause", I gave no social cues to permit his behavior and I banked on years of friendship as well as a wealth of common friends to create what I thought was a trust.

No I did not kung fu beat his booty into a far horizon. How to speak volumes to a passive aggressor who makes attacks on sleeping beauties? I'm stunned. I'm creeped out. My enthusiasm has blown out like a candle and a part of me sits in silence....

I packed up my things and left, leaving a household of other friends...and chose not to expose my "host's" weakness. I am too shocked to pursue the conversation. If he wasn't a friend, calling the police would've been an option I wouldn't think twice to do. Years of loyalty thrown away to indulge a weak moment.

The offers for safer havens were numerous. I am a lucky girl. I don't think my host knew that I had several plan B's that would rise for the occassion. Perhaps I was an easy target in trusting the friendship... What type of person would bring such ruin?

Someone already in ruin. Shall I yell at him? Shall I bring the police? Shall I allow my friends a "few words" to set the man straight?

And I am sad. Sad to be betrayed by someone I thought was a dear friend. Disturbed that a friend would disrespect me and exercise a sense of power to diminish me and treat me like a soulless bag of flesh. Sad to be reduced to an object.

Despite all things, I poised myself for a strong return.... after spending a whole day listless and shocked. Detached... I don't know how I really feel.

I will not be a squashed flower... instead, I will rise gracefully and beautifully.

JNET

Lessons From Beethoven

How to overcome misery....

Mulling over the topic for my show, I landed upon Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, "Ode to Joy"

Who knows better about putting OUT misery than the maestro himself. He never heard a note of his final symphony. Beethoven was deaf. He had given up playing the piano years and years before he composed the "Ode to Joy." Frustration at hearing sound fade away must've been profound...

And in the complete deep silence where only he could hear his thoughts did he write his Ninth Symphony.

What is Joy? Beethoven postulates... Is it power and dignity he poses through his first movement... Is it playfulness and cheer? The second movement is a blizzard of laughing notes. Is it peace and tranquility? The third movement celebrates like a sunset saying good evening.

No, Beethoven says to all these suggestions.

The fourth movement mows down the roses, the poises, the blizzard of baby's breath and a theme swells from a tiny low voice; perhaps the voice that Beethoven hears in the silence. The familiar theme that we all know as his Ninth grows and develops and dances finally from the choir.

Beethoven in his despairing deafness DEFIES to be a silent miserable soul. Instead, he creates a masterpiece.

What is joy? What is it that Beethoven teaches?

Joy breathes in consciousness... in the ability to think beyond the circumstance.. Beethoven created beyond his deafness, beyond the cruelties from a violent parent, beyond the limits of the common minute... and created himself in a way that eternity can sing his soul's frustrations, his struggles, and his hope and joy.

That.... is living life as an artform.

Listen to my blogtalkradio segment on Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" with special co-host Miss Diva of Dysfunctional Diatribe.

JNET