First let me say that I was all pumped up to start the blog this morning and I went to my computer to connect and my Satellite internet connection was not connecting. Crap. We had a thunderstorm last night which knocked out the satellite around 11PM so I should have expected that it wouldn't just "cure" itself overnight. I live in one of the most incredible parts of the United States of America that exists on the planet, but we have very limited options on internet providers. And for a computer junkie, this is torture! After 20 minutes of resetting the satellite modem, checking the wired connection and restarting the wireless router, I am back in business! Yippee! I was already having Facebook withdrawal.
I guess since you probably don't know anything about me, I should at least introduce myself in some fashion to give you an idea of my background and how I arrived here after 60 decades of existence at this spot at this time in my life. I was born in Michigan in the late 40s - that would make me a Baby Boomer, yes. I don't prefer to think of myself as a Baby Boomer but due to the magic of fate, karma or whatever you want to believe, I arrived during the years post-World War II.
Prior to my arrival, My Dad was in the Navy on a heavy cruiser. He was one of the guys who mapped the stars and guided the ship and got it where it needed to go and because he was good at his job he managed to live through it so I could be born. I am an only child. The only child of an only child. I could feel sorry about that, but it was quite a fabulous experience to be an only child most of the time. My Mom was on Treasure Island during the war which is where she met my Dad. She was a switchboard operator at the Naval base. A Civilian. For anyone reading this who does not remember switchboards, those were big boards with little ports and a lot of lights with someone (almost always a woman) sitting around answering phone calls and picking up a wire with a plug on the end to connect the incoming caller to someone in the building where they were calling. It seemed very sophisticated at the time. You called a company or an organization and you were able to talk to a real person who was typically charming and pleasant and there to make your day better. Unlike a VRU, she did not force you to press a button to get to another menu and another and sometimes another to get to the person you were calling. If the person wasn't there or was busy, she took a message and had the person call you back. Amazingly, it worked pretty well and all without computers.
But I digress... back to my Mom. She was a redhead. Her name was Helen, but people called her Pat, which I think was because she was half Irish and she just seemed like a Pat. She looked totally Irish from my perspective. Flaming red hair, completely covered in freckles and hazel green eyes. She was sweet and charming and I can see why my Dad was smitten. My Dad's name was Duane which he mostly disavowed and so people called him Whit because that was part of his last name. He was also charming and very witty, but his wit was that dry as dust kind that leaves you wondering if he was serious or joking. Mostly he was joking. He was also something of an artist and drew cartoons just for fun. For a time prior to the war he was a musician, too. Played sax and clarinet in dance bands back in those Big Band days of Benny Goodman and Artie Shaw. He lived in Chicago, had been married and divorced, smoked pot, drank a lot and enjoyed life. Then he decided to join the Navy and serve his country during a war. He shipped out of California to the South Pacific. He was only in the Navy for 2 years during the War, but the Navy was in his blood for the rest of his life. He didn't have any tattoos like a lot of guys who were in the Navy, but he did have a blue dot on his chest from a tattoo pen... he told me that a buddy was getting a tattoo when the pen slipped and hit him in the chest. That always made me smile when he told about it. He had a lot of great stories of being in the Navy. He never told me any stories about the War, only great times that he remembered and how much he loved the ships and the sea and all the friends he made. He probably should have stayed in because he loved the Navy so much. But he didn't stay.
He met my Mom and fell in love with her so he left the Navy and got married. He and Pat discovered that they were - no joke - from the SAME Midwestern town in Michigan. Born and raised just a few miles across town from each other and never met until they were in California during a war. More than half a continent away from that common home town. Now THAT seems like fate to me. They fell in love and returned to the Midwest. For a short time they lived in Chicago during the first couple of years after the War. And then Pat discovered she was pregnant with me and they made a decision to move back home to be near their parents. 63 years ago on September 12, I was born, back in that Southern Michigan town in the same hospital that my Dad was delivered. 44 years later my own Son was also born in that hospital. I like the continuity in that, it is comforting to know that there are things that last and that tie someone to their family and community.
So, there I was, this tiny blonde haired, blued eyed wonderment. Because I was not only an only child, but an only grandchild you can imagine that I was spoiled rotten most of my childhood. I like to believe that I've overcome most of that narcissistic part of my life, but if I am truly honest about it, there is some of that left. Everyone seems to develop a substantial ego by the time they reach adulthood, but those who are raised as only children may have the upper hand in being egotistical beyond imagining. Unless they are raised by ego-free spirits, which I can guarantee you - I was not. And therefore, the Blog is the perfect spot for a narcissistic, egomaniac such as myself to write - because it's all about ME!! Ok, well, maybe it is also a little bit about YOU....
About the name Sherlock:
I used to work with a very sweet man who started calling me Sherlock (as in Sherlock Holmes) because I was absolutely tenacious when I was tracking down information in my work. Like a dog with a sock - would not stop until every rock was overturned. And this is a Quest - a search for enLIGHTenment, so I've chosen this nickname to use as I embark upon this adventure. And maybe also because that is an identity of which I seek to let go. Therefore, this may be the ultimate dichotomy - a tenacious search for myself and the letting go thereof.
Let the journey begin -
Why Lighten Up?
People these days are way too serious. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that we don't have some bad ass things going on in the world, but in general, in my opinion, people need to learn to lighten up and let go of things. What kind of things, you might inquire... all kinds of things. Way too many people are focused on what other people are doing or saying or thinking and trying to impact that. (Just like me, just like now) The news media have gone berserk digging into every facet of everyones' lives to a degree that is unthinkable. And yet, in general, people seem to crave this level of information about other peoples' lives. As if they will cease to exist if they don't know what President Obama had for lunch. Or what color underwear Brittany Spears is wearing right now. Granted, with a global communication tool like the internet, this sort of information is at everyone's fingertips - even your five year old's unless you have some serious parental controls on your computer. To me this is just insane. Why in the world does anyone care about this stuff? There are so many TV shows devoted to people's lives, opinions, where celebrities go and what they do, and what they wear, how sports figures spend their time, and delving into all of this to a depth beyond reason. And Politics! Don't even get me on that topic!
So let's go. Let's do it! Let's let go and lighten up! Are you with me? It could be an interesting ride.
Since this is called Random thoughts of lightening up, I am resisting making a list of things to lighten up about. But, I am a Virgo so this is somewhat challenging. Virgo's, in my experience, love to make lists. When I was in my 20s I made all kinds of lists. Grocery lists, to do lists, Honey Do lists, etc etc etc pretty much into infinity. Then something happened. I hardly ever make a list any more. I mean, really! I have realized that I do not need to make lists to be happy. In fact, I have found that I don't even need to make lists to remember to do things. No kidding. When I was younger I had an amazing memory. Not for people's names though, but for crazy stuff like numbers. I can still remember the address of the house I lived in when I was 4 years old and the phone number we had when I was 10. I remember the house numbers of the houses my grandparents lived in and I remember the birth-dates of people I have not seen in decades. But I can't remember their name if I see them on the street. Bizarre. But even with such an amazing memory for facts and figures, I constantly would rely on making lists so I would not forget to do things. Most people do this, it seems. I still rely on a shopping list if I have more than 7 or 8 things to get. Otherwise, I just wing it. If I forget a key ingredient I have an incredible larder and can improvise almost anything on the spot.
Here is an experiment - try this for a few days. Don't make lists of things you need to do. If you forget something, it probably wasn't that important anyway. If you are uncomfortable about not making a list when something important is happening, then go ahead and make a list if that makes you feel better. Start with not making lists of things that don't matter much. Like a grocery list. (Unless your Mother-in-law is coming for dinner) Make a mental list of a few things you need. Go to the store. Can you remember the things you came for? Now wait, don't use that cell phone to call your spouse or your roommate or your friend to remind you... do this on your own. If you can't remember - so what. Will the earth stop revolving? Do the best you can to bring the items into your memory. Relax. Breathe. Visualize. Trust. You can do it. Once you have mastered a few simple mental lists, you can go on to more complex lists. Let go of making lists and just be one with the universe. You'll feel better. More in control.
As people get older sometimes their memory gets weaker. If you are in this category (not that I am suggesting that you are in ANY category), then do this mental exercise. I discovered that I generally do not need to write things down any more to remember to do things, or what groceries to buy, and such. Even though for most of my adult life I have relied on lists. Unlisting is quite liberating. And once you can let go of something like relying on a list, you can just imagine what other kinds of things you can learn to let go of. I have spent more than a small amount of time learning to do this. It wasn't a revelation, but more a gradual awakening. Now, I am not claiming to be "awake".. but over the course of several decades, I have seen glimpses of the light. You know the light? The one at the end of the tunnel, the one that comes on in your head when the bulb goes on, the one that wizened individuals refer to as "enLIGHTenment". Unless I'm wrong, I have actually experienced moments of pure lightness. Maybe total awareness. Fleeting, but surely tangible. In an attempt not to sound like a preacher or guru or anything like that, I've come to the internet to ramble about random periods of lightness. Glimpses of perfection. So, if I start ranting ( as opposed to rambling) which I might slip into if I forget why I'm here, please feel free to remind me that I need to Lighten Up :-)
I will be back because it is lunch time.
Here are some random thoughts about lightening up during lunch:
My delightful husband spontaneously brought home MacDonald's salads for lunch. I love their salads. The ingredients are always so fresh and they have Newman's dressings and so here I am back at my computer because I cannot just eat, I have to type too. Silly woman. In Michigan it is Fruit Fly season. I am totally enjoying my salad and just because I have food, a Fruit Fly has come to join me. Uninvited and brash as anything, this little guy (or girl - who can tell) heads straight for my salad. So I tell my husband that I have this little interloper and he laughs. He says that no Fruit Flies have bothered him while he ate his salad. I think it is just me. I have some magnetic cosmic aura that attracts these little buggers. I am trying to appreciate the Fruit Fly and this wonderful salad. Honestly, as soon as I stopped resisting the Fruit Fly it seems to have disappeared. So there you have it, if you are being bugged by something just appreciate it and maybe it will just disappear! What do you think? Oops, spoke too soon, it's back......
Have you ever noticed that fruit flies just seem to materialize out of thin air? How do they do that? There will be no fruit flies anywhere - or so it would appear - and I open a bottle of wine and POOF! about 10 of them appear as if by magic! I've been studying them. Did you know that they prefer red wine over white? Peaches over apples or pears? Grapes over blueberries? And they don't seem to care for bananas at all. Aren't bananas a fruit? Wouldn't you think that fruit flies would like them too? Nope, not interested. Is this collective Fruit Fly consciousness? They will dive into a glass of merlot so fast it makes you dizzy. Can you imagine the bliss of immersing yourself in a glass of merlot until you die? What a way to go... I usually will pick them out and continue to drink the wine, but my husband will just drink them. He says he doesn't think they have any taste and he's pretty sure they won't hurt him if he ingests one. Maybe he is right - he is 78 and has eaten a fair amount of them! How funny is that! This man is a master at lightening up!
The salad was delicious and the fruit fly did not eat much, so I am well satisfied :-)
Time to go check out what is happening on Facebook. I am addicted to FB. I'll be back later.
Blessings,
Sherlock the Seeker of the Light
