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It’s Time To Change…

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

You have no idea how long I have been waiting to write this! An eternity, a long, lovely time since I wore flowy retro hippie skirts or baggy cut-off denim overalls with one strap hanging loose and wrists full of hemp bracelets while sitting around the hacky sack circle.

No, I’m not talking about the 60’s, I’m speaking of that twilight time between 1988 and 1994 when formerly materialist Gen Xers decided to get all trippy, waxing poetic with peace or ankh signs hanging from ears and necks and the cloying scent of patchouli mixed with Chloe or Giorgio Red. It was like a small corner of MTV and Madison Avenue fell into an acid trip in which the crappy things in life just didn’t matter anymore.

And, life does some crappy things to you with “fashion” being one of the most cringe worthy at times but honestly, I enjoyed this time a lot because it brought me the closest to not giving a shit than I’ve ever been until right here, right now. If anyone gets that last reference and can message me with the correct answer I will mail you this:

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Well, not this one exactly but something like it that doesn’t smell like  bong water….

Most people come to terms with their childhood sooner or later, the embarrassing pictures and stories but teenage years and early twenties are harder to grasp because we both loathe them and long for them in the same breath. Take them or leave them but either way they define us the most and write the story of who we really are with the sharpest clarity.

It’s the ugly truth of angst that motivates people to reject or embrace the path they need to be on in life in order to succeed or fail; this is everyone’s turning point. Go or stay, live or die, crash and burn or pull up and soar! These are the days (another reference there) in which we learn to bask in the glory of true impending freedom or we get stuck in the mud of confusion and woe is me gloom. When it’s time to change we know it but what if the costume you picked out and tried on isn’t for a role you want to keep playing? The short answer is this: Take it off! There will always be someone waiting to pick it up so pass it along and search for your one true fit in this giant garage sale called Life.

Hanging out with dreamers, also called “losers” by those afraid to shed their own ill-chosen costumes of societal pigeonhole backlogging, became my wish back then.  And now, that desire is back. I like people who smile even when rain is pouring down and I adore those that brush off criticism like a mere crumb on their peasant blouse. No worries.

Life ain’t no big thing once you stop over thinking and just keep on rolling. Love one another and mind your own shit because stepping in others isn’t cool man. Not cool at all. Is it naive to think I can get this back? I don’t think so and my conviction to change becomes that much stronger because the way I have been living so far has been nothing more than a means to an end…the ultimate end…like spinning over and over, unfulfilled, until my breath just stops. Who wants that?

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I want to love AND live, not just one or the other and in order to love the life I’m living I have to change because nothing is truly sustainable without adjustment and adaptation yet, so many are afraid of such a benign word like “change.” I’m not entirely sure why but can guess that it involves a fear of being honest about what they really want and admitting that certain career or educational paths just can’t lead them there.

We all fear because that is what prompts us to take missteps and it’s also how we learn so embrace the dreams, the dreamers and their ability to let go and just live. Now, everything else will just fall into place once you pull the stick of rigid expectations out of your ass and then the real party can start. When life is hard, you have to change. Come on, let’s dance shall we?

 

 

Get it together woman!

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

I have been in a funk. A sinking, dark, unmotivated funky funk.

And, it doesn’t help that I have 3 blogs going and cannot seem to keep track of which password goes to which blog or which glob of words I plopped where. I really should clean that up and get everything in one place. But, I’m lazy. Or, sad. Or, maybe even depressed. And…too tired to decide which.

So, right now I’m making a goddamned decision.No…I’m really doing it!

This is the new and permanent home of Reverie and I will systematically move every word I own here.  Good luck to those that choose to read my sad weirdness. I promise you will never get bored.

A place for everything and…everyone put in their place

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

There are times when I wake up in the middle of the night, heart pounding and anger flared from a random memory that decided to make itself known again to my subconscious. One such memory was of an encounter with a person, who obviously peaked emotionally in high school, trying to put me in my place because I dared to invade her social circle with my lower class, almost food stamp qualifying background. It was a moment I hadn’t thought about in eons, because it was that long ago, but still a moment when I realized that there are some pretty awful people in this world masquerading as fine, upstanding citizens.

I won’t detail what was said because that would give too much attention to a woman who obviously can’t function without attention, good or bad, but let’s just say that it was the equivalent of a small child sticking out their tongue and doing the “Na-Na, Na, Na-Na, Na” thing. In the moment I was taken aback but not totally surprised because she never gave me the impression that she ever accepted me as an equal but rather, viewed me as an object of disdain and mockery for not being a former cheerleader, sorority sister or over-achieving Super Mom whose life revolved around her children’s accomplishments. I was part of the, “Oh, you’re a working mom” sect and she was fortunate enough to be married to a doctor, which was wonderful but not necessary to point out all the time. “My husband, who is a doctor….” became a suspiciously purposeful reminder of what I was not now nor would I ever be which was rich, popular and accepted. It hurt a little but I somehow managed to survive and move forward in life obviously.

I remember that a few of her mottos were, “public school is for poor people, not us” or “we are involved in ballet, gymnastics, soccer, and tennis simultaneously,” and she never shared anything about herself, anything that would make me empathize with or feel connected to her. All she gave out were news flashes about how wonderful her kids were followed by passive-aggressive comments on my parenting choices. Thanks, but I never asked you…is what I should have said but I’d usually just turn away in embarrassment or move back into my spot closest to the door, at the ready to bolt. I was the outsider in the bunch so who was I to stand up and tell her off?

Why did it bother me so much? The verdict from the popular crowd was that I was socially awkward and jealous because I grew up poor and didn’t learn how to interact with upper class people and lacked the manners and charm to ever fit in hence the need to be constantly put in my place. But, what was my place? If they knew they never told me directly but judging by the nasty looks, rude remarks and blatant brush offs it must be a pretty awful place. Good Lord! How was I ever allowed to walk the same streets as these amazing social beacons and high yield stock option recipients?

In thinking back, I know now that they aren’t all powerful and experience odoriferous flatulence and fecal evacuation just like anyone else roaming this planet and that it, in fact, does not smell like roses. Looky there!  I made farting and shitting sound pretty classy now didn’t I? Everyone does it, even the ultra-fortunate but somehow, being human and acting human (faulty, emotional, kind-hearted, polite and humble) is something to be shunned like a Louis Vuitton knock-off. Nope, not good enough for us, this human thing is well, too proletariat.  We are Gods!

At least that is what I used to think these one-dimensional harpies thought about all, gasp, poor people but then I realized that not everyone was like that and I was judging all upper class people based on my interactions with a few, to put it honestly and bluntly, assholes. Money can’t change an asshole into a humanitarian, the asshole traits are still there under the surface waiting to spring forth with the most minimal provocation. But, good people surely don’t lose that inherent trait to be kind to others or to offer a supportive word or gentle hug when it’s needed most just because they find themselves on the abundant receiving end of financial good fortune right? I have met a few over the past few decades so I know more are out there, they have to be!

Make yourselves known because only you can prevent rampant asshole fires…that sounds awful, let me rephrase. Only you, the kind and polite money attracting people of the world can turn the tide in this poor=lazy, unmotivated and therefore unworthy atmosphere. I’m not saying, “Hand over your cash” either so DO NOT be posting any liberal vs conservative blather in the comments section. This is about how I feel not how you feel on the matter because this is MY memory, not yours.

What I am saying is, the more kind and thoughtful interactions people of differing financial backgrounds have the more acceptance those not so financially well-off may feel and acceptance is worth more than gold.  Acceptance helps motivation ignite. Acceptance makes hope possible. It’s so simple yet also so hard for some people to provide. Why? Talk is free. Smiling is free. A respectful handshake and hug are free too just as direct eye contact is. You have no idea how demoralizing it is to have someone look through you or around you but never directly at you.

As for myself, I may not be considered financially rich now but I do okay and feel very grateful for all that I have and the wonderful people I have surrounding me. And while this may have started out as a painful memory of how a horrible woman tried to make me feel bad because of who I am and where I came from its ended up being a story of redemption…for me.  I forgive her for being such a snotty, sarcastic and dismissive person and accept that she must not be a very happy individual. Or, maybe she’s just dandy with how she acts and sees no reason to change. Either way, it’s done, I forgive and no longer have that moment weighing me down.

Sometimes dreams pull you back to the lessons you haven’t completed yet I guess. Lesson #5,006,201,369 down only 5,006,201,368 to go!

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Welcome to the Grand Delusion…that is modern life.

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

I do not profess to be a therapist, preacher or politician. I’m just a human being who has seen a lot of garbage, personally and professionally, during the decades I’ve been a resident on this planet we all call home.

Now that the obligatory disclaimer has been typed we can move on…

Some of the things I have seen, heard and been personally subjected to range from outright abuse to reaffirming joy. I have been shown that some people can and will do the right thing but, I also know that there are many people who have no intention of ever getting along, letting bygones be bygones or accepting that not everyone out there wants to be just like them. It’s a fact. We all aren’t the same but we ALL have the ability to not take it personally when “friend” 1,089, on any number of our many social media accounts, espouses different political, religious or even socially based beliefs from us. This goes for every other random person you may encounter in life as well.

It isn’t a personal affront to you when Billy or Susie, each of whom having a mind of their own just like you, decide to go down a different path of thinking. How exactly does this personally harm you? Are they coming into your home and demanding that you believe the way they do? And, if you say that they are just because they post it online and you happen to have your computer on then welcome to the wild, wild world of self-imposed Butt-Hurt. Billy and Susie can’t magically turn your computer on in your own home, you have control over that. They also can’t force you to read what they have to say, you have fingers that can click “unfollow” at any time or even “unfriend” or “delete” which is amazing freedom right?

Now, I do ask though, what is so bad about hearing opposing ideas and beliefs? I have always been a firm believer in the adage that in order to be well-informed one must be able to view an issue from all sides…not just our own. Everything, even a plain old piece of paper, has more than one side. You may think your side is prettier and the best darn side ever but there will always be someone who prefers the opposite and…that’s okay….it won’t kill you…because it’s just an idea or belief that resides within the heart and mind of its possessor.

But, and I was ready for this one, what if that belief is taken out of the internal realm and action is added? Bad action like physical, catastrophic violence? This has been happening for thousands of years. While I wish I had a definite answer for how to stop this immediately… I do not.  And, the only people who can say when enough is enough are the ones advocating hate and violence in order to force their point(s) of view. Logic would dictate that “enough” is when they are absolutely in control and this could also mean when everyone is forced to state they agree with a particular mandate, law or edict, even when they don’t, out of fear of imprisonment, personal injury or death. This is happening now and has been happening for as long as I, my grandparents or great-grandparents have been here and on and on up the family tree to infinity. It isn’t new news.

This opinion piece is not intended to validate one side over another it is merely a stream of consciousness by which I choose to release my thoughts, ask a few questions and get some ideas from those different from me. Because, after all, how are we ever supposed to exist together if we don’t even know just a little bit about one another? I do want to stress that I have no patience for nastiness and response baiting trolls so argue away in the comments section if you like but I will not respond. I will however put you in my next work of fiction and make you do things that would cause your real-life head to explode so be warned. How do you think writers get material after all?

So, what DO we really know about one another? I know that I am not you and you aren’t me and quite frankly I think that is a great place to start. My thoughts, beliefs and ideas belong to me and were originally shaped by personal experiences gathered along my life’s path. Are they rigid in nature? Some are and some are not. I will give you an example:

Flexible:  My ability to consider different points of view. I may not know I can agree or disagree until I am provided with the proper evidence for why I should or shouldn’t agree.

Rigid: My belief that I should not be shouted down, spoken to with disrespect or harmed simply because of my gender, age, race, sexual orientation or personal ideology.

On that last point I have received some flak from those who feel I should simply stay quiet and do as controlling powers in the Middle Ages (and earlier) dictated but, you know what? That didn’t fly with everyone then and it still doesn’t so I will simply take it for what it is; a weak attempt to control with no real power behind it. Because, we all know that just because someone yells louder than everyone else it doesn’t mean that their message makes any sense or should be followed. It’s just noise and the great thing about noise is that if it’s ignored long enough it just becomes a background hum that we learn to tune out while continuing to move forward.

Now, to address what makes people follow. That one is simple! One of two things, fear or allegiance and sometimes those two become intertwined. Some people fear that the things they love the most will be taken from them. I won’t say what those “things” could be because I am wise enough to know that many, many people already have a long scroll of things they can drop right into the slot so have at it! But, the one thing no one has been mentioning, publically anyway, is apathy. We can’t change the world, some say, so why bother? And, in that same vein, if we never change lightbulbs that have blown out then we will always be in the dark. People stumble and fall in the dark just like they stumble and fall over misinformation and bias in broad daylight. Change is the best policy when falling down the stairs or a well of tabloid babble is the alternative. Get the facts, get all sides and get a new lightbulb!

In this current atmosphere of mistrust, lies and blatant hate, and it really isn’t anything other than that so let’s not try to paint it up and put nice clothes on it, we can only continue BEING. That may sound all wishy-washy but hear me out. If fear is allowed to keep people from being themselves then who wins? Sure, for the time being those who hide are keep safe but eventually the hate that was allowed in begins to build and fester. And, when we stop being ourselves, paranoia sets in, over-reactions occur and the sickness of division spreads. Who do you work for? What is your purpose here?  When did we all become so miserable and unfree???? Fear did that to us and we allowed it to happen and the sellers of hate were counting on it. They probably even had odds set on some event wager line in Las Vegas. Bravo assholes!

What do we do now?  I’m only one person but I will continue saying this over and over until someone else hears it and passes it on, “Stop letting the sellers of fear win!” We are better than this America. Kindness isn’t weakness and here is a novel thought, how about we start by being kind to one another, see how THAT goes and then spread it out to like-minded countries around us? A WHOLE national functions better than a divided one and, better yet, a UNIFIED but respectful of differences type nation scares the hell out of those that wish to control us. “Damn! These Americans finally have their shit together and can’t be scared into lashing out at one another to the point of being so broken down that we can just swoop in and take over!” Life is pretty simple after all….and it is WE who choose to make it hard. Choose better, choose wiser and in the end nothing else matters.

 

That one time I was almost on the Nate Berkus Show….when he actually had a show.

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

Whenever I think about this experience I have to squint and move my eyes back and forth like I am concentrating real hard. The kind of hard thinking that smells like toast burning. Curling, white puffs of smoky grey matter twisting around the skull, knocking to get back in kind of hard thinking. It’s rough being the sort that willingly chooses to keep all the bad stuff up front in the window display of their life while keeping the truly interesting bits and pieces back in the storage area. Dammit! Why do we do this?

Anyway, when Nate Berkus first showed his stylish, elf-like face on the grande dame Oprah’s show I was fascinated. I wanted him to release me from the dungeon of “old lady” decorating suggestions (this is a WHOLE OTHER story in itself) and help me find my true style. I wanted a designer middle finger, if you will, that I could display every time said “old lady” tried to tell me how cheap or tacky the things I really loved were.

Take that ya old bat! Nate likes it and I like it so go choke on your frilly toile curtains and musty transferware dishes hung just so on the wall. ON THE WALL!  Dishes on the wall scream OLD LADY to me but what do I know? I needed Nate on my side.

Every time he was on I would watch with great intensity, taking notes, honing my decorating style while also learning that my opinions about what I did or didn’t like mattered. I found my voice and my courage to say what I wanted in my house and what I thought was pretentious, trendy bullshit, designed only to lighten the wallet and not my mood. It didn’t always go over well but satisfaction was gained from knowing money can’t buy taste and bullies hate it when their targets grow a backbone. Mine started out as a flimsy balsa wood twig and grew into a mighty reinforced beam of Brazilian walnut. Strong, unyielding and shiny. God, the old lady hated that. Thanks Nate!

Fast forward to 2010 and I’m watching The Nate Berkus Show when I see a little blurb about viewers sending in their stories of overcoming odds to make their dream career come true or something like that. My memory fails me at times but the gist of this was that I sent in an email to the show telling the producers how I always wanted to write but felt held back by the less than supportive people in my life and how I finally ditched them and started writing in earnest. I wasn’t making any money doing it but I still felt free enough to actually let strangers read my scribbles. That was huge a self-conscious, formerly badgered soul that was so unsure of her abilities.

And…I got a call from the show not long after I hit send on that email. I was asked to explain more about my dream, how I wanted to accomplish it and what my roadblocks had been. Great, so far I thought, but then came the shit cloud…Bethenny Frankel.

What did I think of her? Did she inspire me to try to make my dream a reality? Uh, no. Honestly, if I had to give credit to anyone for prompting me to get my shit together it would be a 50-50 split between aging and my therapist, Dr. Tarrasch. A reality show “character” doesn’t even make the list but I sensed they wanted me to gush about how much she helped and inspired me because they wanted her as a guest. The true indication of this came when they asked if I would be willing to stand up and ask her how I could “make my goal of writing a reality” from the audience. Good grief and lumpy gravy, NO! But, I said sure! I wanted to be on that damn show!!!

Next, I was asked to write a little bit more about my goal and when I first became aware of Madam Frankel as the paragon of business acumen and goal reachiness (my own word but it fits) so I did just that. Maybe too well because I didn’t get a callback and the next thing I know ole Bethenny Big Eyes is on Oprah on the date she was supposed to be on my Nate’s show.

What happened? Did she realize she had no viable advice for me or did Nate’s producers just decide to chuck the segment? Or, and I think this is more likely, that publicity hag tied her line to the mothership Oprah and cut Nate loose at the last minute.

She got a better offer and ditched the person that brought her to the dance. And THAT is how Bethenny and many other questionable business entrepreneurs succeed. It’s easy to keep your high heels un-scuffed when walking on the backs of others.

Okay, rant over and memory released. That felt great. Do I still like Nate Berkus? Yes, yes I do and I always will. He’s likable and seems genuine. Did I learn anything from BF? Yes again. I learned that the outcome would have been the same even if I said I didn’t give two shits about her supposed power to influence or motivate because the segment was going to get dumped anyway.

Always be honest about who or what really motivates you because, in the end, self-respect tastes much better than an over-priced watered-down vodka or margarita mix. Go for the damn bourbon you babies! It’s strong, true and never pretends to be what it is not. Now, get your ass out there and work! That’s my advice.

The “little things” that are actually quite large…

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

A welcome from Reverie…

Small gestures, little acts of kindness, minute details that get overlooking while searching for the big picture…in these, most, if not all answers to, “why am I here” can be found.

Yet, they are little, tiny, unimportant things and we like grand entrances and annoyingly bombastic noise signaling something hugely awesome is about to happen, so much so that many times we miss what is truly “awesome” completely. On to the next big event! And make it larger than the last one please!!!

I like the little things because I find great intricacy and inspiration in their simplicity. A smile given at just the right moment or a nod of accepting acknowledgment.  The sun shining after a particularly shitty day is what triggers my sense of awe in the unending discoveries unfolding around me. It nudges me forward with a, “See? The show ain’t over yet. Stick around to see what else you can do!” And, it’s that anticipation that fuels me and keeps me moving forward; the validation received from the world at large that we are here, we are seen and yet, we have so much left to see, hear, touch and do because we all matter.

And, we do matter. I matter and you matter. Not our things or accomplishments or even our failures but our purposeful connectivity with one another. I smile at you and you smile back in return…or frown, scowl or even, maybe, laugh. All are fine because they are reactions to my action. I caused it simply because I am here! That is power my friends.

When I touch the hand or heart of someone I care for that little thing grows into a large thing that promotes growth, expansion and continued expression. How is that a small or insignificant thing? It is not. It is massive, all important and amazingly enough, free!

Several years ago I had the great pleasure of being introduced to a very wise person who told me all the supposed “big” things I worried about and expressed anger over were horse shit. He also told me that I was the architect of my life, no one else, and it was my responsibility to choose who and what I wanted to be.

I want to be a simple little player in a large extravagant play with a few excellently memorable and quotable lines because I wrote them and I want to set my creations free. I want to see where they float, who they touch and what happens next when they are picked up and carried forward by a new player. The true adventure in life is fluid after all, not planned or plotted but stumbled upon.

Let’s stumble together and maybe the next path we crash onto, laughing or crying, will be one that leads to yet another great experience. Come on! What are you waiting for?

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.