I’m less worried about balance than I am about reducing conflict. In fact, reducing conflict is numero uno!
My life-long pattern, when I wasn’t creating conflict, has been to avoid conflict. Hiding my head in the sand like the cartoon ostrich. Do real ostriches do that? Or only cartoons?
Anyway, the poor cartoon bird has her head buried in the sand and her little arse hanging out for all to see or kick. I say this to remind myself that avoiding not only doesn’t work, it comes back around to bite me in the butt.
I lost my virginity to a married man.
I didn’t plan it that way, and it violated my values at the time, but I did it anyway.
Of course, I was in love. Of course, when he said he was an open marriage, I believed him. I only heard her version later.
To make matters worse, or more interesting depending, their eighteen-month-old baby crawled on the bed, grinning from ear to ear, trying to get in on the action.
It was awkward enough being naked with him and vulnerable with him, and having intercourse with him, but having the baby…
Just in case you weren’t sure about this truism, I’m here to remind us all. What we do matters. What we do makes a difference. We all impact others’ lives and the broader world. In lots of ways, mostly good.
Whether we share stories of our lives or information that helps others lead better lives, we’re making a difference with our words as well as our deeds.
Know not only that you have gifts to share, but that you are a gift as well.
We of Middle-Pause are thrilled to welcome K.L. Bennett onto our editorial team. Welcome aboard, Krista!
What a great question!
First of all, let me discern what’s important from what’s just noise — however loud and/or urgent.
I’ll start with the noise, given the inner and outer screaming going on right now.
If you read my recent post about the purpose of my life no longer being carved in stone, you’ll know I’m challenging myself to stay grounded in love and compassion as I deal with a disgruntled church friend.
Well darned if she didn’t just send me a long, intense — and while I want to put an adjective like scathing, biting, sarcastic — let…
I believe we’re all angels. We bring blessings to the lives of others. Sometimes without even knowing it.
I call this serendipity, which the Oxford English Dictionary defines as The occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.
That’s what I mean by angels unaware when something we do benefits another unbeknownst to us. Sometimes we find out about it later, like in my story, and sometimes we don’t.
My story involves a tango — not just any tango — a tango danced in church. It was summer, and the ministers were on sabbatical. …
Cirque du Laissez Le Mal Temps Roulez broke new ground when it cast a new vision of the high-flying trajectory of contemporary circus arts. On the rebound from the politically correct, ostentatious faux franco “sun circus,” we at Mal Temps are on a mission from Satan to liven things up.
For the record, the so-called “sun circus” is not a fun circus, it’s bo-ring! Making the rounds as new age and humane, if it weren’t for the music, this overly-produced extravaganza would put people to sleep. …
Give me the sad clown every time.
I see the downturned frown,
I hear the silent cries. I feel the heart
laden with humiliation from the failed gags,
the misplaced pratfalls, the misunderstood
misspeaks aching racing through the body,
pulling it down.
I may laugh at, but I cry with this clown.
I get this clown cause I am this clown.
Her name is Duddles and she allows me
to be exactly who I need to be when my body
needs to grieve. When my natural gate is slow,
posture hunched, afraid of everything.
Afraid even to breathe.
How easy it is to find fault. With the world in general. With those close to me. With the ones I’m the most intimate with, especially.
And with myself most of all. And within that universe, the go-to sock-it-to-me toy is my body.
Remember Laugh-in? How they had a running gag where someone would say sock it to me! Then they’d hit themselves on the head with a plastic hammer or get a bucket of water dumped on them.
I hope the analogy fits. I couldn’t think of the word punching bag fast enough. …
Hurt people hurt people. ~Will Bowman
This thought just flashed through my head, so I wrote it down. It sounds like one of those paradoxical platitudes my former minister used to get in my face with. I did not appreciate it at the time.
Some lessons take a long time to learn.
When I resist a life lesson, here’s what happens. I get it thrown in my face over and over till I get it. Case in point:
I’m co-facilitating a church membership meeting. We’ve got a proposal for discussion — to add a conflict resolution process to our bylaws…
Writer, sacred fool, improviser, avid reader, writer, novel forthcoming, soul collage facilitator, prayer warrior and did I say writer?