Glued to the Now

I have this brilliant idea of carrying a notebook with me everywhere and talking notes about the various coincidences and accidents that I witness during the day to day.. or just those random things that stick.  Like songs or quotes... or numbers.. or headlines which have many meanings.  I think it is about training,  I have to remember to carry a notebook in the first place.  I also have to have a pen that actually works.. and I need to train myself to write things down.  Most of the time one of the variables is missing and it prevents any record being made of these happy accidents at all.  ( And they are lost to become suburban myths or anecdotes you tell whilst drunk and trying to be interesting.)

I need to have little forms that I fill out.  Listen to me - Little forms.  You can tell I work in an intstitution which has process and paperwork.  (I did filing today and I loved it).  These little forms would have questions to remind me of what to think and details to record so that the timeline and data collection is correct and true. 

Sounds weird doesn't it??  I wonder if anyone else is doing it.  I could look I guess... that would be a good place to start. 

Tomorrow.  Tomorrow I start The Diary of Fate.  Lets see what happens......
Though I must admit that although I have been (or felt as though I have been) swamped with these types of messages thus far.. I do fear that the second that I begin to attempt to record them that they will disappear.. as though they are somehow something which is supposed to be kept as spiritual elusive or deep  mystery?

At the same time, I do think that everything happens for a reason. Like the time I saw the name of a potential lover written, quite literally, in puffy white clouds above my back door.  I read that as a good sign.  The fact that it was over my back door could imply that it should be an outgoing idea as opposed the disasterous incoming idea that I interpreted as.  Wouldn't you?  I was lonely and that was another factor in my downfall... emotions.

By recording details surrounding coincidence and fate - I am not sure what will be accomplished.  I hope that after a year.. I may have something or not.  Either way - I will have an interesting year being forced to be present.  ;)

My love,

Limerick

My Favourite Teacher - Part Two

I was feeling nervous and fragile that first visit to Lyle.  He was quiet, respectful and he sat in his chair at an angle which was almost side on to me.  It gave the impression that we were sitting together. 

During the session, I filled him in on what was going on.  We spoke and he mixed me a container of liquid made up of chinese herbs.  It was green/blue/black - a mixture of liqurice and slime.  I was gagging just watching him swirl it around.

A couple of times I asked questions of a spiritual nature.  During these times, he seemed to stop and take a little notice of me.... His answers were interesting and they prompted more thoughts and questions. 

At the end of the hour.. I felt as if I had moved from my stationary position.  He was fascinating and the thoughts processes were a welcome change from the real life emotional dramas.. there was some peace which I hadn't felt for a long time. 

I paid Lyle for the consultation and as I was about to leave asked if I could make an appointment with him the next week.  He asked 'Why?'  I told him I had more questions.  He smiled and told me to come back the same time next week but he wouldn't be accepting money.

From then on, I become a very happy student of this wonderful person.  His generosity in exchanging ideas and his lack of wanting anything in return was refreshing.  It created a rare trust.  Although it didn't start as smoothly as I had planned or expected...

The following Wednesday arrived and I got to Lyle's office ready to learn everything that he had to teach.  I was so fired up - When I got there.. he was sitting in his seat.  He said hello and smiled.  I sat down and waited.  And waited and waited.  He just sat there.. in silence.

I was thinking, "What the? Isn't he going to say something?".  But he didn't.  At the end of the silent session which I have to say freaked me out.. I went home to ponder.  He said, "See you next week."  I remember thinking.. Why?  I have just completely wasted your time and mine...

The next week came and this time I was nervous.  I decided that I would go along just to tell Lyle that I didn't think it was for me and that I was afraid that I would be wasting his time.  I sat down.. but the words didn't come out the way I intended.  They came out as a question and he could respond.  In fact, whenever I asked him a question.. he replied quickly and with enthusiasm.  The discussion began and I realised that he had put me in the drivers seat.  I was in control of my own learning... and then it became apparent that as a true, good teacher does - he didn't try to teach.

What joy to realise that he didn't have an agenda of what HE thought I needed to learn.  Lyle was able to gauge, from the simple questions I was asking, where I was on my philosophical journey.  This tactic was an invaluable lesson in itself and one which I would like to master myself.

We didn't have silent lessons after that.  There was much energy and information thrown around that little room.

I moved away from the country to live again in the city.  I haven't seen Lyle since I left.. but like a true friend or someone who is 'important'.. I think about him every day.  And every day I am grateful to have him as part of my spiritual life. 

And now I know that you don't get the answers unless you first ask the questions.

Much love,
Limerick

My Favourite Teacher - Part One

I had seen the man around the town I lived in many times.  He was both invisible and a giant at the same time.  He had the ability to disappear into a crowd, was mysterious and I didn't like him.  To add to the confusing feelings I had about a complete stranger, two of my best friends, were associated with him.  He was their teacher.  He taught them martial arts, meditation and energy.  He ran classes which were well attended, he was reaching an audience of miners who, let's face it, really benefitted from a dose of the spirit and I wanted nothing at all to do with him... even though my friends knew I was having a hard time and were telling me to visit him.

One day, in town, I saw him, Lyle, walking in my direction. For some reason, I was overcome by fear.  I thought perhaps he would read me as the fraud & the fake that I felt I was.  Rather than face this possible scrutiny.. I crossed the street. 

Which made me think.... Why? Why? Then life took hold again and there were more important things to think about.  My Dad was fighting a rare cancer, my relationship smashed apart, I had a falling out with my brother and his partner which was devastating and my two year old got chicken pox... all within a few days.  I remember getting a sandwhich from a shop, opening it up and looking at the contents and weeping, "There is no love in here!"

Driving home from visiting Dad, I was fucking miserable.  Pardon.  Then Lyle popped into my head.  I shooed him away.  It happened again. His annoying, floating face.  Flabbergasted, I said out loud to myself,  "Right God, if I am truly supposed to see Lyle - then send me a sign."   Three seconds later I drove past a lake and a large sign which read 'LAKE LYLE'.  For the first time in ages I laughed.  Because God, it seems, has a sense of humour.

I made an appointment to see Lyle when I got home.  830am.  On the next Wednesday morning... and I was excited.

To be continued...

What's Awesome??

If you ask me what I am.. I may have some trouble telling you.

I'll probably answer with something lame like "I'm flesh and blood", "I'm stardust", "I'm a soul waiting to go home".  And then I'll sit on my back step and think.. I should have thought about that longer.  I sold myself WAY short... upon which my logical brain will kick in with NO WAY and will go through the obligatory list of artist, mother, woman, daughter, sister, employee etc etc.. and I could list myself even further to the point of sexual orientation, favourite music,  erogenous foods or books... but why?  I think I'd be missing the point.  In fact, I know I have missed the point over and over again which makes me an Expert.

Being an Expert gives me certain liberties.  I can, essesntially say what I like.  For Example:  an Expert is someone who has tried many times to perfect something.  I can assume that through the process of perfecting.. many mistakes would be made.  Therefore, an Expert would be someone who has made many mistakes.  As well as failure, odds are in favour of some episodes of triumph... which is what would drive an Expert to continue.  A true Expert, regardless of age, would realise pretty quickly if he/she was on a road to Nowhere and correct their direction. 

I am going on about this expert stuff because, basically, I want you to believe every word that I say.  It's manipulative but also disgustingly, wonderfully honest.  I have lived and made a truck load of mistakes - It's a semi-trailor load -    We are talking major road train..    piled high and overflowing with mistakes.  I'm sorry, it looks like the Lotto truck but it's not.  

It's my truck load of mistakes that makes me an Expert.

Being an Expert also leaves me open and vulnerable to attacks from people who wish to prove that I am not an Expert.   They try.  Oh, how they try....   Not one person has yet been able to prove that I am not an Expert as an Expert knows how to say "I don't know". 

An Expert knows you can't know everything and an Expert doesn't want to know everything.. just that which is relevant to his or her personal evolution into Expertise.  I am an Expert who knows what she knows and doesn't know what she doesn't.  This also happens to make me a Specialist.

Being an Expert Specialist or E.S. means that I have made more mistakes than most.  Child prodigy Experts usually have unfortunate childhoods... forever falling into the wrong situation at the wong time with the wrong people who are using the wrong kind of drugs and wanting to do very wrong kinds of things...

If you ask me what I am I can tell you that I am an Expert who specialises in Mistakes with a major in Consequence.  I minored in Metaphysics, Synchronicity and Filosophy (which is thinking and eating pastries at the same time (also my FAVOURITE class)).  I passed with a  Bloody High Distinction.    In my spare time, I made extra credit by volunteering in the Quantum Jump Lab and by tutoring students who were from spiritually disadvantaged backgrounds.

So now I am a Goody2Shoes, a Specialist and an Expert.  It's no wonder I have had a hard time finding 'real world' employment.  I am completely over-qualified!

I am Limerick.  An (almost) unemployable (till the library) over-qualified, goody2Shoe, Specialist in everything she is expert at.

That's fucking awesome!
Ooh, pardon me!  I think it was me who just swore.  Open the window quickly and let it out.........
:)
Limerick