I might as well have had a target on my posterior, bent over ready for the boot.
4 Big Kicks in the Butt I Got for my Vanity and my Spirit of Giving Back in the Name of my friend, the late Sam Moss.
Vanity: Reverb Nation had a special free trial offer and I thought why not and thought it was fun to watch my name climb the site billboards. It made me wonder how it worked and because I realized it was a closed system at best, climbing their charts meant you paid for premium services. I like to see features and whether they are necessary and decided this site is a good way to share music if you have a large following or if you stick to all the free features it is a good place to post songs for others to hear. Meanwhile no notice was given to me that my free trial was expiring and I had kept no reminder to self, so I bounced 3 checks.
Vanity Hurts.
My other painful kick was a 4th bounced check. After my hitherto free services bounced my 3 checks, ebay collected on my donation to breast cancer research., and bounced a 4th check. I decided to donate 25% in honor of Sam-his wife Dido died of breast cancer. Charity hurts. Vanity and Charity bit me in the butt.
All the bounced checks have made me in the negative, negating all the work I did the month of October selling and shipping on ebay. Plus I still owe my son his half ---eaten up by my bounce.
Ouch. Ouch. Ouch and Ouch again. 4 swift kicks when I could have learned with a simple warning letter.
Oh, my aching arse.
But I have to just forget it, sitting on pillows until the bruises heal.
My aching bum is nothing in the scheme of things.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
LIke Water
I channel my efforts with my tightropes, and then follow the path of least resistance, just like water.
.
.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Jesus and the Red Words
Jesus was a man. Jesus lived. We love Jesus because we were taught as children how kind and nice and powerful and miraculous he was. While I sang in the Episcopal choir, I was still confirmed and had the good fortune to be given a bible with a new testament with an apocrypha where all that Jesus was reported to have said is written in red.
When I write songs about the words in red, I always mean the apocrypha, for it was an experience to read those red words. To me it said Jesus was all those things I had been told and that he was to be considered a teacher/mentor. He gives us the beautiful and succinct golden rule to live by: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." A quick check with the golden rule, and you can make up your mind about how to behave in any given situation. It teaches us compassion and thoughtful living and gives us a check and balance to live by. I love the golden rule.
But I also distinctly heard him say he is our brother and that we could emulate him but that we should not exalt him but our mutual Father. He tells us there is life after death. He is powerful. He is a social nobody. He is growing in strength, not by military strength, but through love and miraculous works. He has lost years. He befriends the outcasts. Jesus is a rebel. Jesus had a temper.
Still I cannot swallow the idea of drinking Jesus' blood and eating his body because he died to save our sins. How does that work exactly? I don't see how it computes.
I think it was a political murder and people added some zing to control the potential uprising of the masses.
If I am wrong, I am down the chute to hell and I bet my 3 children's immortal souls in the bargain.
The only way I can recognize the Jesus I met through those red words is to proceed with love and compassion, guided by the golden rule. It is a beautifully organized chaos in this world from the spiders web to the cosmos. How could our existence have a trick ending? For surely it is a trick if only the people who parrot the right words are destined for heaven like the Christians say.
Even in the Episcopal church where hell is not often mentioned, I was afraid for my Jewish friends, until I kicked the religion habit and branched out to my own personal Church of KD where all beautiful souls go to heaven because that only makes sense.
I feel brave for shutting my ears to bible-thumping-men-in-white-shoes. I only did it because I vowed to never tell my children anything but verifiable truth. If I didn't know so, we'd look it up (a librarian-ish tendency I've had all my life)
Having very intelligent, genius children, I decided to approach religion like some people think this and some people think that, introducing them to a range of religious ideas instead of indoctrinating them with the faith I grew up with.
This surprised me, although I remember thinking maybe my children would give me insight to my questions someday if I just gave them the facts. We did have a church for awhile, because I thought they would like the social aspects (but they didn't) So we quit and took nature walks instead.
When I write songs about the words in red, I always mean the apocrypha, for it was an experience to read those red words. To me it said Jesus was all those things I had been told and that he was to be considered a teacher/mentor. He gives us the beautiful and succinct golden rule to live by: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." A quick check with the golden rule, and you can make up your mind about how to behave in any given situation. It teaches us compassion and thoughtful living and gives us a check and balance to live by. I love the golden rule.
But I also distinctly heard him say he is our brother and that we could emulate him but that we should not exalt him but our mutual Father. He tells us there is life after death. He is powerful. He is a social nobody. He is growing in strength, not by military strength, but through love and miraculous works. He has lost years. He befriends the outcasts. Jesus is a rebel. Jesus had a temper.
Still I cannot swallow the idea of drinking Jesus' blood and eating his body because he died to save our sins. How does that work exactly? I don't see how it computes.
I think it was a political murder and people added some zing to control the potential uprising of the masses.
If I am wrong, I am down the chute to hell and I bet my 3 children's immortal souls in the bargain.
The only way I can recognize the Jesus I met through those red words is to proceed with love and compassion, guided by the golden rule. It is a beautifully organized chaos in this world from the spiders web to the cosmos. How could our existence have a trick ending? For surely it is a trick if only the people who parrot the right words are destined for heaven like the Christians say.
Even in the Episcopal church where hell is not often mentioned, I was afraid for my Jewish friends, until I kicked the religion habit and branched out to my own personal Church of KD where all beautiful souls go to heaven because that only makes sense.
I feel brave for shutting my ears to bible-thumping-men-in-white-shoes. I only did it because I vowed to never tell my children anything but verifiable truth. If I didn't know so, we'd look it up (a librarian-ish tendency I've had all my life)
Having very intelligent, genius children, I decided to approach religion like some people think this and some people think that, introducing them to a range of religious ideas instead of indoctrinating them with the faith I grew up with.
This surprised me, although I remember thinking maybe my children would give me insight to my questions someday if I just gave them the facts. We did have a church for awhile, because I thought they would like the social aspects (but they didn't) So we quit and took nature walks instead.
Big Red Bow
I spend time organizing, with a need to get things "where they go." I want my organizable life to be neat and orderly, tied up with a big red bow.
My Empty Nest is Not Empty
I have an empty nest, true, but I am realizing motherhood is forever, and I have many gifts left to share with my grown children and their families.
1) I need to thrive so they have no worries about me. They can think about me and smile.
2) I need to be healthy and clearheaded until the end of my life. I do not want to be a burden.
3) I want to be there for my children and my future grandchildren. I want to live long.
4) I want to be healthy of mind and spirit, as well as body, so my children will want my grandchildren to be around me. I want to love and share and show my grandchildren the world through my whimsical eyes. I want my children to see the magic they have forgotten, our magic, the magic we made with love, learning, laughter, and song.
5) No matter how old my children are, I want to hug them, hug them tight. If they need me, I will be there.
6) I want no news to always mean good news. I will communicate but if I don't, my children will always know I'm doing great, and vice versa.
7) I must be financially secure: No rescues from my children. I need to be smart and plan this well at this juncture. As this is my weak spot, it will take some concentration and effort to achieve financial security. This should be my focus now until it is achieved. It is still uncertain how: I want to be compensated for being writer of story and song and feel this is entirely achievable and doable and righteous. I can also be a librarian who writes or a touring singer/songwriter. I feel as if I can still follow my passions and make a living, but it can't be a squeaking by existence as it's been or I'll be a beggar at my life's end.
1) I need to thrive so they have no worries about me. They can think about me and smile.
2) I need to be healthy and clearheaded until the end of my life. I do not want to be a burden.
3) I want to be there for my children and my future grandchildren. I want to live long.
4) I want to be healthy of mind and spirit, as well as body, so my children will want my grandchildren to be around me. I want to love and share and show my grandchildren the world through my whimsical eyes. I want my children to see the magic they have forgotten, our magic, the magic we made with love, learning, laughter, and song.
5) No matter how old my children are, I want to hug them, hug them tight. If they need me, I will be there.
6) I want no news to always mean good news. I will communicate but if I don't, my children will always know I'm doing great, and vice versa.
7) I must be financially secure: No rescues from my children. I need to be smart and plan this well at this juncture. As this is my weak spot, it will take some concentration and effort to achieve financial security. This should be my focus now until it is achieved. It is still uncertain how: I want to be compensated for being writer of story and song and feel this is entirely achievable and doable and righteous. I can also be a librarian who writes or a touring singer/songwriter. I feel as if I can still follow my passions and make a living, but it can't be a squeaking by existence as it's been or I'll be a beggar at my life's end.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Shake it UP
I am surprised in the mirror.
I am so still.
Inwardly there is the noise and activity of a convention, and still I am still except for my twitching eye.
I am so still.
Inwardly there is the noise and activity of a convention, and still I am still except for my twitching eye.
I Have Other Shares To Fry
I found my replacement to clean house for the rich, old Stockbridges, years ago. Although the work was easy and the pay was good, slow paced, chatty Lindy was a much better match for lonely Mrs. S, than I was. I am a busy worker bee with no time for chit chat.
Mrs. S. says I have trouble "sharing," by which she means gossiping.
I would share my last sandwich, and I intend to share my songs with whomever cares, but I make a concerted effort not to gossip. I am the one who supplies fodder to gossip about---the gossippee perhaps. But back to songs.....
I don't know how or why I hear songs in my head, but because songs come to me, I feel an inherent obligation to share them, and as I've mentioned before, it feels as though a song is a captured bird unless you let it fly free into the world.
Whether people except my (re)gifts is entirely not my business, but for my part I must share.
Mrs. S. says I have trouble "sharing," by which she means gossiping.
I would share my last sandwich, and I intend to share my songs with whomever cares, but I make a concerted effort not to gossip. I am the one who supplies fodder to gossip about---the gossippee perhaps. But back to songs.....
I don't know how or why I hear songs in my head, but because songs come to me, I feel an inherent obligation to share them, and as I've mentioned before, it feels as though a song is a captured bird unless you let it fly free into the world.
Whether people except my (re)gifts is entirely not my business, but for my part I must share.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Bearded Baby Cockroach in a Skirt To Land on Moon
I wish we were the ant, but we are the cockroach, scurrying, and furtive, resilient, and adapting, watching out for the shoe of fate that threatens to squash us out of existence.
We are bearded baby cockroaches in skirts who get kicked in the pants to build our characters.
We take a licking and keep on ticking until our final shoe-down.
Unfortunately kicks in the pants often leave splinters, impossible to reach being in one's own derriere.
Then you must ask for help and it is a bit embarrassing. Or you don't have your splinters doctored and they fester and block you from your goals.
I believe that through the kindness of friends, family and strangers, I have been relieved of all my bloody splinters from the past, and now I can move along.
I predict there will be great changes in my life in the coming year, good things, exciting things, fun things. I see it coming like the rumble of thunder.
We are bearded baby cockroaches in skirts who get kicked in the pants to build our characters.
We take a licking and keep on ticking until our final shoe-down.
Unfortunately kicks in the pants often leave splinters, impossible to reach being in one's own derriere.
Then you must ask for help and it is a bit embarrassing. Or you don't have your splinters doctored and they fester and block you from your goals.
I believe that through the kindness of friends, family and strangers, I have been relieved of all my bloody splinters from the past, and now I can move along.
I predict there will be great changes in my life in the coming year, good things, exciting things, fun things. I see it coming like the rumble of thunder.
Pacing &Tightropes
Off my tightrope I fall, unable to balance too much and too little.
I am too much and too little, alternating between bombarding and hiding from the Others.
I am the participant and observer, sometimes cheering for, sometimes jeering at my graceless efforts at balance.
I pace in circles and wander in loops, easily distracted; Not the thing for high wire acts.
Not the stuff, pacing in circles on tightropes:
You fall every time.
I am too much and too little, alternating between bombarding and hiding from the Others.
I am the participant and observer, sometimes cheering for, sometimes jeering at my graceless efforts at balance.
I pace in circles and wander in loops, easily distracted; Not the thing for high wire acts.
Not the stuff, pacing in circles on tightropes:
You fall every time.
Ode to the Moon
We are the Moon with our reflected glory, and our two faces.
We see the same and different moon from our corners of the Earth.
The moon is nice, the way it makes you feel special because it follows you, even in speeding cars.
When the moon is full, we feel its pull.
It can make us bleed and fight.
Moon. Oh, Moon.
We see the same and different moon from our corners of the Earth.
The moon is nice, the way it makes you feel special because it follows you, even in speeding cars.
When the moon is full, we feel its pull.
It can make us bleed and fight.
Moon. Oh, Moon.
What to Say to a Jumping House
The road I'm on is familiar. I've driven it many times before, but I have never seen this old house or that one. It makes me curious. Because it is old, I know it has been there longer than I have traveled past. How could I miss it? I either looked at it or didn't, both without seeing. Because I am the control and I am the variable, these anomalies do make me curious. I take from it that it is all the same difference. The end result is the same whether I saw it without seeing or didn't see it. Either way, a house just jumped out at me and I said "Well, Hello! Fancy Meeting You Here!"
Thank You FUnny People & Creatures & Things
Oh those bones, OH Those Bones, Those Funny, funny bones.
Important to tickle.
It is easy to take life too seriously and I forget this all the time until I laugh.
Laughter is good.
Laughter feels like warm liquid sunshine thawing the tin man.
Laughter can be a kick in the pants that you get a kick out of too.
I love people who make us "ALWAYS LOOK ON THE BRIGHT SIDE OF LIFE."
-from The LIfe of Brian-(sp?)
Important to tickle.
It is easy to take life too seriously and I forget this all the time until I laugh.
Laughter is good.
Laughter feels like warm liquid sunshine thawing the tin man.
Laughter can be a kick in the pants that you get a kick out of too.
I love people who make us "ALWAYS LOOK ON THE BRIGHT SIDE OF LIFE."
-from The LIfe of Brian-(sp?)
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Word Rebels: A Short Short Story by KD Rouse
“Words are all we have.” - Samuel Beckett-
Oscar managed to push the dictionary under his bed before his mother came in.
“Acks?” she asked, “Test 2moro.”
“I hate Acronyms!” said Oscar. “Why can’t we use whole words?”
“2 Slo” said his mother. “Law sa acks betr.”
“They aren’t even real acronyms,” said Oscar with disgust. “Do you know if a word disappears, we lose the only way to describe something. Like an animal going extinct.”
“U hav 2 try,” said his mother. “Law.”
“I think people should be able to talk the way they want.”
“U betr Behav. Arest’d” she said with some concern. Acks as the Universal Language was adopted in 2057 and was taken very seriously. Anyone who could not master Acks, or even worse, refused, well…They were cracking down.
Words are beautiful, delectable, delicious, said Oscar dreamily.
“Shhhh!” said his mother sharply. “No! Law!”
“No law, “ repeated Oscar. “I like that. No law! Up with the word!” He knew he had found his calling, but said goodnight in ACKs to please his Ma-ma!
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Silicone & Ashes: Some Falls Hurt Worse Than Others
Despite being plagued with bouts of depression, I believe in the power of the mind.
You are what you think, what you take in physically or spiritually, what you feed your mind and soul.
The tightropes say its all in the balance.
If you detach from your body, you float away. That doesn't help.
If you detach from your spirit, you just rot. There won't be anything left to keep except silicone and ashes when it's time for you to Blast Off on Your Date with Death. .
Watch sprite-ly dancers on high wires and aspire to dance across.
But for now: Danger Will Robinson!
Straddle this wire if you must, and scootch across if you have to.
Don't look down.
Just get across, across, across and do not fall from this one.
It's a loo-loo.
You are what you think, what you take in physically or spiritually, what you feed your mind and soul.
The tightropes say its all in the balance.
If you detach from your body, you float away. That doesn't help.
If you detach from your spirit, you just rot. There won't be anything left to keep except silicone and ashes when it's time for you to Blast Off on Your Date with Death. .
Watch sprite-ly dancers on high wires and aspire to dance across.
But for now: Danger Will Robinson!
Straddle this wire if you must, and scootch across if you have to.
Don't look down.
Just get across, across, across and do not fall from this one.
It's a loo-loo.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Company Loves Misery
Misery can sometimes appear to be your friend.
If that is what you know and it's kept you company when you think there is no one else who could understand, much less deliver you, you can inadvertently prolong your friendship with Misery, clutching it shamelessly when it threatens to leave.
What makes you remember to let go are smiles and laughs that angels deliver to you with love through love.
You reached out to me, a stranger, gave counsel, made me laugh.
You never even know how it thawed my mind's frozen darkness, giving oil to the Tin man with your kindness.
Misery slinks away defeated when you laugh. Laugh. Smile and Laugh, Bearded Baby Sourpuss. (& Take Your Meds.)
If that is what you know and it's kept you company when you think there is no one else who could understand, much less deliver you, you can inadvertently prolong your friendship with Misery, clutching it shamelessly when it threatens to leave.
What makes you remember to let go are smiles and laughs that angels deliver to you with love through love.
You reached out to me, a stranger, gave counsel, made me laugh.
You never even know how it thawed my mind's frozen darkness, giving oil to the Tin man with your kindness.
Misery slinks away defeated when you laugh. Laugh. Smile and Laugh, Bearded Baby Sourpuss. (& Take Your Meds.)
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Purpose and Chaos
"Man is but a reed.... but he is a thinking reed."
-Blaise Pascal-
"I think therefore I am."
-René Descartes-
I feel therefore I am.
I get pissed off therefore I am.
My heart aches. My mind is sore, then I am reborn, therefore I am.
When an em-path, and a chameleon, these tests of being are crucial in checks and rechecks.
I exist. Now, what to do with it?
Why am I?
Do I make up my reason to be?
Or does my purpose exist and its up to me to travel my hills and dales to find it?
Do I know my purpose, secretly, and am afraid of what lies ahead?
Is my purpose in me or in the world or both?
Could it be anything or is my purpose specifically tailored for me?
Do we make up our purpose, us busy, buzzing bees?
Back to the question: Does everything happen for a reason?
Looking back I see purpose and chaos dancing.
I see they could never change unless one had the other. We could never change. Demolition, decay, heartache must tear down for the Spring of Purpose to come to town. We enjoy the fruits of our labor at harvest and hunker down for the chaos and death of Winter, only to begin again.
-Blaise Pascal-
"I think therefore I am."
-René Descartes-
I feel therefore I am.
I get pissed off therefore I am.
My heart aches. My mind is sore, then I am reborn, therefore I am.
When an em-path, and a chameleon, these tests of being are crucial in checks and rechecks.
I exist. Now, what to do with it?
Why am I?
Do I make up my reason to be?
Or does my purpose exist and its up to me to travel my hills and dales to find it?
Do I know my purpose, secretly, and am afraid of what lies ahead?
Is my purpose in me or in the world or both?
Could it be anything or is my purpose specifically tailored for me?
Do we make up our purpose, us busy, buzzing bees?
Back to the question: Does everything happen for a reason?
Looking back I see purpose and chaos dancing.
I see they could never change unless one had the other. We could never change. Demolition, decay, heartache must tear down for the Spring of Purpose to come to town. We enjoy the fruits of our labor at harvest and hunker down for the chaos and death of Winter, only to begin again.
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