Friday, July 31, 2015

Imagine no Internet Shopping

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

John Lennon

Do you make unnecessary purchases in the middle of the night? It's five o'clock in the morning and I've been up all night and I want to buy this faux leather futon on eBay. Do I need it? Absolutely not. Do I want it? Absolutely. Will I buy it? I'm waiting for the day because I feel like a nighttime purchase is always bad.

I bought this video cassette for forty dollars once, it was called "Facial Magic." I wanted it for my birthday but no one would buy it for me. It is basically exercises for your face so you won't get wrinkles. I still have the video tape that I bought from an infomercial in the middle of the night. I've never used it and I threw out our last VHS player.

What to do? To buy or not to buy? I'm gonna buy it, I know that. What can I say, I'm self-indulgent. I'm kind of a spoiled princess. Sort of. Maybe. I mean am I?

I have a somewhat disposable income right now because I'm living in my parents home. Trust me there is a price to pay for everything, it may not be in dollars, but there is a price. 

Sanity is not always easy in your parents home. I moved into the basement so that I could have a little peace. 

You can't buy peace, although the white futon looks so peaceful. I could even sleep on it, but mostly I'm using it as a couch. In the middle of the night once, I almost bought a really good bathroom cleaner that could transform the nastiest of bathrooms, although my bathroom wasn't nasty, I just thought it was so amazing.

That is the inherent problem with sleep buying. Every gimmick looks so spectacular in the light of the night stars. You think you might need those six-hundred-dollar knives one day. 

I don't need that futon. Why am I spending my money when I should be saving it? Because people, sometimes you got to give. To yourself. No one else is gonna give you anything.

Is that selfish? No, it's just true. If I didn't buy myself cute outfits and cool stuff, no one else really is going to. Is that a valid justification? It depends on what you can actually afford. I can actually afford to be a little materialistic right now. That may change in an instant. 

I mean I probably shop too much, but I've gotten much better and I'm really trying not to let buying things be that important to me. 

I guess the real question is, could I live without my things, my clothes, my stuff?

If I lost everything in a fire, or had to sell everything in order to survive, would I be able to still be happy? 


But I'm trying. I'm trying not to define myself by what I own. I'm trying not to let shoppers high be the thing I turn to in order to be happy. 

My stuff is not going to make me happy, that futon is going to make me smile sometimes, but mostly it something I will have to clean. Like everything else, it will collect dust. 

The only thing that isn't collecting dust, is my soul. Even my mind has got some weird way of losing it's fine skills, but my soul, my spirit, doesn't need any of this shit. 

Give it a loin cloth and a mat to sleep on and it's fine.

The rest of me has a king size bed and some high thread count sheets. Someone once asked Oprah if she felt guilty about having so much when there are people who don't have anything. 

Oprah said no. She said it wasn't going to make poor people any richer if she's poor. Oprah gives when she needs to give. We all give in the ways that we can, to the people that we can. Even if they are our own family. 

But do you give to yourself? Sometimes you are worthy of your greatest gift. Of course your greatest gift is love, but those hot pink stilettos are a close second.


Image courtesy of iosphere at

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Road Rules

Two roads diverged in a wood and I - I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.
I wonder sometimes what other people I might have been had I chosen to become a lawyer or a doctor like I thought I would in my younger years. 

I wanted to fight for battered women and children as a lawyer when I was in college, so no matter what road I took I probably would not have made much money. It's not that money is not important to me I just believe you have to be happy with what you do and then the money will come.

What different road could you have taken in life? What different road can you still take?

I was driving to Grand Blanc last weekend and I noticed a sign with a picture of Jesus on it, "Are you on the right road?"

Am I?

And what would be 'right?' I'm not even sure where the right place to put the quotation mark is. What do I know about right and wrong?

I'm at the car dealership and Judge Judy is on television. She's trying to tell people what is right and wrong according to the law.

Do you think there is a right and a wrong? I mean I think it depends. It's definitely wrong to hurt other people, but what if you do it while trying to do the right thing? It is definitely right to fight for your rights, however if you hurt people along the way, how right is it?

It's a slippery slope. 

But we all know that. 

I don't know about you, but I'm on a road that is winding. I make a lot of turns. Sometimes I change roads, but sometimes it is this very road that it so twisty and turny. There are also places of deep construction and accidents. I stop a lot. 

If my road is anything like a Michigan road, I'm in trouble and I'm going nowhere fast. 

What is your destination? Death? I don't know if that's so bad. I mean maybe some of you think there is a heaven, some a hell. Or some think we are coming back again and again. 

I believe in all of the above. I think my destination is a death. I think there is a heaven. I think I could create my own hell, that's the only hell I think there is. I also think that I will journey in some other form again if I so choose to.

But what am I trying to achieve on this road? You know that song, "I got a fast car, fast enough so I can fly away. I gotta make a decision, leave tonight or live die this way..." Sometime I want to go fast, sometimes I just want to ride slowly and enjoy the scenery.

Ultimately I'm alone on this road, and I chose a road as a writer that not many choose. 

I like it here though, it's painfully slow at times, but I get to breathe here. I get to be me here. I can walk, I can run, I can drive. Sometimes I swim on my road.

Sometimes the road doesn't realize, and sometimes when I'm not paying attention, I dance to my destination. 


Image courtesy of dan at

Saturday, July 25, 2015


“Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.” 
― Apple Inc.

I'm crazy enough to think I could change the world. 

I'm serious.

Dead serious.

Although I haven't exactly worked out a plan or anything like that.

I considered becoming the next Dalai Lama, but we already have one. Although I think a woman is required.

How would I like to change things up? Let's see, well for starters there would be no war. I didn't say no guns or bombs, just no war. You can have all the toys you want, but war should be illegal.

I know to some of you I sound naive or stupid even, however if you have a fight talk it out like adults do. You get in trouble in school for fist fighting, we should get in trouble in general for fighting physically over things that can be talked through. 

OK, now that that's taken care of, everyone would be fed. I don't even care if you have a place to live properly, I just want to feed you. Food is kinda important. 

How am I planning on doing this? Don't get lost in the details, stay with me. I don't know, what does your utopia look like?

Women, obviously, would be in the same positions as men, with the same pay. This is my brand of utopia, maybe in yours apes will rule. 

I mean I'm assuming we all want the same thing: peace. I mean I realize there are those who just dream of a world with more guns. I mean that's great, more gunman, more shootings. Because we obviously haven't had enough of those.

I might be crazy, crazy to assume that the world could even change at all. But join me, will you? Whatever your utopia looks like, it's got to be better than this.

Whatever your crazy dream, keep thinking it could come true. It could be genius. It could happen.


Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at

Friday, July 24, 2015

And So It Is

“As it is, we are merely bolting our lives—gulping down undigested experiences as fast as we can stuff them in—because awareness of our own existence is so superficial and so narrow that nothing seems to us more boring than simple being.  If I ask you what you did, saw, heard, smelled, touched and tasted yesterday, I am likely to get nothing more than the thin, sketchy outline of the few things that you noticed, and of those only what you thought worth remembering. Is it surprising that an existence so experienced seems so empty and bare that its hunger for an infinite future is insatiable? But suppose you could answer, “It would take me forever to tell you, and I am much too interested in what’s happening now.” How is it possible that a being with such sensitive jewels as the eyes, such enchanted musical instruments as the ears, and such a fabulous arabesque of nerves as the brain can experience itself as anything less than a god? And, when you consider that this incalculably subtle organism is inseparable from the still more marvelous patterns of its environment—from the minutest electrical designs to the whole company of the galaxies—how is it conceivable that this incarnation of all eternity can be bored with being?”
~ Alan Watts, The Book: On the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are

I don't know if I need to say anymore, Alan Watts pretty much said it all for me. We are here, we are alive and we are not alive. 

How many of us are dead before dying? How many of us are sleep walking. Where is our reality? Where is our humanity? If we are so human, than why is it so hard to remember to breathe deeply. Love deeply. Laugh deeply.

I want to live fully. I want to know fully. And be fully. 

This is not easy, yet it is at the same time the easiest way to be. 

Alan Watts says that we are gods. I like to think of myself as a goddess. Is that egotistical and vain? Maybe. 

I never said I was perfect.

And I would like to ask, what does it mean just to be? Does that mean you can't do anything or say anything? Or is it just being aware of what you are in every moment?

I'm drinking coffee right now, I should probably be more aware of how good it tastes. And how much I love writing these words, I should notice it more.

I should notice the way the sun cascades through the trees in the morning light. Is to be, an appreciation of everything?

Maybe it is. Maybe to be, really means to be thankful for each moment. I can hear the refrigerator starting: thank you universe for the abundance of food. I have to get ready for work, thank you for the running water to take a shower and beautiful clothes I have to choose from.

Thank you.

I have these wonderful gadgets, this iPhone and Mac Air computer. On a base level I have a place to live and nothing to worry about. 

Well sort of, I'm worried about stuff. But not like survival stuff. Life stuff. How do I turn that around into a thankful situation?

Like I'm worried I won't lose weight. Perhaps I should be thankful that I have a lovely body with all the limbs in place. I'm worried I might not get enough classes to teach next semester. I am thankful for the opportunity to spread my wisdom and knowledge. 

Perhaps I should smile more. Perhaps I should be thankful that I have a place to express such thoughts and someone is reading.

Thank you for reading.


Image courtesy of markuso at

Thursday, July 23, 2015

Read This Every Morning...

“Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly, and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love – for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you from misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.” 
― Max EhrmannDesiderata: A Poem for a Way of Life

I have this poem or whatever it is, framed in my bedroom. I try to read it as often as I can. My therapist gave it to me years ago. I don't think she realizes what an impact it had on me. 

I especially like the part where it says be gentle with yourself. How many of us are nice to ourselves? If I was my best friend would I treat myself the same way I do? Why are my best friends more forgiving of my mistakes then I am?

People often say, 'be yourself.' What does that mean if we are not sure who we are? I mean I know I'm nina, and I know lots of things about me. However who am I really? 

I like that he says I'm a child of the universe. I like the idea that I'm still a child at almost forty. Sometimes I laugh like a kid, sometimes I cry like a baby.

It really is still a beautiful world, isn't it? It's hard to always see be know that. I can see out my window right now and everything is pretty outside. It's not as pretty in the winter, but even winter has it's own beauty. Even the hard times have their purpose and eventual lessons. 

I want to have peace with my soul, I'm tired of fighting it. Many times I do things that are not good for my soul, and in that sense I'm fighting who I really am. 

Fighting with god is another thing. I'm not exactly agreeing with all the things that he is sort of allowing to happen. But I don't understand most of it, I don't know why. I can't see the bigger universal picture. It seems we are destroying ourselves, yet is this really god's fault?

I need to close my eyes and strive to be happy. It is sort of that easy, isn't it? But so damn difficult, isn't it? There are moments I feel happy. There are moments I'm trying to be happy. Some moments I have no idea how I feel. 

Mostly I feel like things will be OK. I feel like everything is OK.  


Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at

Monday, July 20, 2015

Life is Simple

“This is your life. Do what you want and do it often. 
If you don't like something, change it. 
If you don't like your job, quit.
If you don't have enough time, stop watching TV.
If you are looking for the love of your life, stop; they will be waiting for you when you start doing things you love.
Stop over-analyzing, life is simple.
All emotions are beautiful.
When you eat, appreciate every last bite.
Life is simple.
Open your heart, mind and arms to new things and people, we are united in our differences.
Ask the next person you see what their passion is and share your inspiring dream with them.
Travel often; getting lost will help you find yourself.
Some opportunities only come once, seize them.
Life is about the people you meet and the things you create with them, so go out and start creating.
Life is short, live your dream and wear your passion.” 
― Holstee ManifestoThe Wedding Day

I suspect and I've heard that life is simple. People on the other hand are complicated, or are they? Maybe everything is really simple.

Maybe I need to stop waiting for my real life to start. I think this might be it. I've had almost forty years of it and it's been real I suppose. I mean I know I've been alive for forty years but how much of that time was I paying attention?

I don't know, I'm not paying attention...

I'm not kidding I just spaced out. I just saw this thing on Oprah about how multitasking is like anti-spiritual, bad for the brain and the soul. I can barely do one task at a time. But I've seen people juggle so many things at once with brilliance, and some people have to. It may be a luxury to not have to multitask.

I mean the news is on, I'm at my friends house, she's making eggplant parmesan, I'm sitting on my computer. Is that too many things at once? How many and what is too many?

When exactly did we become these machines that have to be stimulated by several things all at once in order to be awake? I can smell the food, hear the T.V. and see this screen.

Sometimes I want to shut the noise off, shut off the T.V., let the battery die on my phone, unhook my computer and talk to someone. I mean really talk to someone. 

I put my ringer on silent today and my friend ended up calling me twice then calling our landline. It's like there is no escaping it. I was having a serious conversation with my mom and my phone kept beeping so I put it on silent. 

Remember when people couldn't get a hold of you for weeks or months at a time? Remember when you had a life that didn't revolve around the very gadgets with which you are reading this with?

Remember pens, pencils, paper and handwritten notes passed during class? Remember holding the newspaper in your hands and feeling the crumbly crap it was made out of? Was that even paper?

Did we live more when we had only five channels and no remote? I don't know, I'm not sure.  (By the way where's the remote?) 

Something is wrong though, I think we are not living the way that would be the best for our spirits. What is a spirit you ask?

That's another conversation, but there is a part of me that is not agreeing with the pace at which life moves these days. I don't mean to sound like a bitter old woman, but maybe that is exactly what I am.

I'm bitter that my friend is not talking to me right now, she is reading, funny enough, a magazine in paper form. CNN is on T.V., I'm writing on a Mac. We are content not speaking much unless we have a comment to make about something. She handed me a Bed Bath and Beyond coupon. I said thank you.

When did life become so banal? 

I tried to start a conversation just now, asking her what she is reading. She told me and then we stopped talking.

I want to shut off the T.V., rip away her paper, and make her speak to me. But what would I say? Am I more interesting than a girl whose seizers were cured by medical marijuana? 

I'm not an entertainment factory or anything like that, but I've been known to tell a joke or two. Sometimes I even have an insight to share. 

I'm so confused as to what CNN is talking about, something about China. My friend is taking out the trash. 

Why is everything so confusing when it's supposed to be so simple?

What do I want out of this moment? I don't want to be annoyed. Did you know that Gloria Vanderbilt is Anderson Cooper's mother. My friend said so, and I sounded amused.

I'm not. 

Now she's got her Android tablet out, so I know not to disturb her. There is a story about Euthanasia on CNN. I don't want to have some crazy debate about the right to end your life.

I want my life to start.

But it has hasn't it? When I was busy preparing: shaving my legs, putting on deodorant. How do live when all we have is this life?

We go on, through the boring moments, through the lonely moments. The moments we are with someone and they make us feel more lonely than when we were alone. 

There are beautiful moments, trust me, I know. Yet somehow sometimes they are more difficult to remember.

I do love life. I don't always love my life, but every moment cannot be a winning one. 

We are simple, we want love. Yet we are so complicated in the ways in which we seek it. 

Life is so short, yet so long in some moments.

Life is beautiful and ugly and weird.

Mostly it's weird.

Mostly I don't get it.

But I will, one day.


Image courtesy of nattavut at

Sunday, July 19, 2015

The Mystery of Song

Image courtesy of Salvatore Vuono at
Life is a song - sing it. Life is a game - play it. Life is a challenge - meet it. Life is a dream - realize it. Life is a sacrifice - offer it. Life is love - enjoy it.


Sometimes I think my life is a song. I wouldn't sing it, cause I can't sing. I'd have Stevie Nicks sing it. Who would you have sing your song?

I'm listening to old Indian music right now, I only understand half of it. The other half I make up. How many times have you made up the lyrics of a song and then realized you were completely wrong?

I've done it more times than I can recall. With Indian music, I make up the meanings of some of the words. I think Hindi is a more beautiful language then English. I know, if I don't like English why do I have so many degrees in it? English may not be the most beautiful sounding language, but you can say things in English that there are no words for in other languages.

Even though I think Hindi is more aesthetically pleasing, I don't speak it only because my parents used to make fun of me as a kid when I spoke in my English accent. It's sad, I can't speak it without feeling self conscious. 

If I had a kid I would try to speak it so the kid would learn. If I have a kid one day, I will teach it a little Hindi and Punjabi. I just called a kid, an it. I don't even know English well enough after all this school.

In Grad School I had a professor who would argue over my grammar only when I wasn't writing with my heart. He said when I followed my heart, my grammar fixed itself. 

Isn't that true of everything? The songs that speak to me, sometimes I even hit the notes. People are shocked and amazed, because usually I'm purely out of tune.

Even plants can understand songs, they do better with music. I do better with music. I think my writing is better when I put on a song or two. It helps me have rhythm.

On my computer I pretend the keyboard is a piano. I pretend I'm writing a song. I pretend there is music in my words.

Right now I'm listening to a traditional wedding song, and I'm dancing in my chair. The song is called: Mera Laung Gavacha. I have no idea what it means, it is in Punjabi. But the beat is so right.

I told my professor that I dance when I write. He told me he knew, he could tell.

If life is a song, I want to write this one. I want you to sing with me. I want to die singing.


Saturday, July 18, 2015

Zen and the Art of Being

Image courtesy of Dan at
Today I choose life. Every morning when I wake up I can choose joy, happiness, negativity, pain... To feel the freedom that comes from being able to continue to make mistakes and choices - today I choose to feel life, not to deny my humanity but embrace it.
---Kevyn Aucoin

I'm only at 64% battery power and I have four more hours of work. I work at the Writing Center at Baker College, I'm a tutor in the summer. No one ever comes in so I basically get paid to sit around doing nothing.

I was thinking about doing nothing lately. Just being. It's so interesting to me. I'm starting to feel more alive, more real, and more aware. A lot of this has to do with the fact that I have had the time to do nothing. I have a vacation from teaching for two months and I'm loving the hell out of it.

I needed to be alone with myself. Get to know myself. I didn't really have a conversation with myself, it was never that obvious. It was quiet. I learned to be quiet. 

It is harder than you might think to shut up. Even to yourself. I believe we are aware beings and that our awareness is who we are.

What does that mean anyways? It means that I am not just a woman who is in Michigan, a professor or a whatever. I am all of those things and none of those things, I can't take those things with me when I move into the universe, or into death. The only thing that moves with me is my awareness, the fact that I can live and breathe and be.

Does that even make sense? I mean it kinda makes sense to me. But that doesn't mean it means anything to you. 

I wonder sometimes, I wonder about a lot of things. I wonder if there ever was a time I did not exist. I don't think so. I mean are we just part of the creation, then we did not exist at some point. Or are we part of the creator and the creation? Then in that way we have always existed.

I don't like the idea that I'm part of something bigger unless I can keep my identity. I don't want to lose me. I like me.

Wow, I actually like me. What a concept. It's sorta new to me. I mean I've always had a soft spot for myself, but do I really like myself? Would I dare use the word 'love'? Do I love myself?

Maybe. Sometimes. Kinda.

That's all I got.


Friday, July 17, 2015

Candle in the Wind

Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.


Do you ever feel like you are drifting? I don't know sometimes where my head is going. I want to say something, but I'm not even always sure what it is. Something about the light, maybe the light of a candle.

It flickers, and dances. It's making a statement just by existing.

I want to be like a candle, so soft and bright and I want to light the way. There is something so alive about the small fire. If I were to be a fire, I'd want to be that small. Daring but yet not really dangerous.

My parents are against me burning candles, they think I will burn down the house. I think that's funny.

I like to meditate with candles burning. I read this study they did on monks and it proved that meditation can make you happy. Something about positive brain waves. 

It's not always easy to meditate, because you have to stop your wild mind. You have to both concentrate and let go at the same time. Sometimes you feel like you are losing yourself, sometimes you think you have found yourself. Both things are probably occurring at the same time. 

I have fallen asleep meditating before, however it was probably a sign that I needed more or better sleep. They say it's OK if you fall asleep while meditating. Sometimes I meditate with my eyes wide open, I look out the window at the light and the trees. 

I think that's OK.

I think everything is OK though. I took a hippie test on Facebook and got 89% hippie. I don't doubt it. I sometimes think I was born in the wrong era. I would have been a great hippie with my long tie-died skirts and my peace loving attitude. 

A Republican friend of my father's called me a Communist the other day. I don't know, I mean without dictatorship Communism is the ideal policy. Maybe. Kinda. Everyone gets a place to live and food.

I lived in a commune on Staten Island for a hot minute. It was an interesting experiment. At least they had a community. 

I don't really know my neighbors or care to. I guess I have my own community, but I don't know.

So there you have it, these are the random thoughts that occur when the candle is in the wind.


Image courtesy of sakhorn38 at

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Be The Change

Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we've been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.


So I've been thinking about how quick life changes, we are all a few paychecks away from being homeless. We are one bomb away from being in a war. We have no idea how close we are to an earthquake or tornado. 

Anything can happen.

I say this because I'm going through a positive cycle, yet I don't want to be attached to the things that make me happy.  I want to be happy, so happy that even if I didn't have those things I would be fine. Because I could lose everything in one moment, and I have before, and I know that it can happen to anyone and any time.

I stayed in a hostel once in New York and met an Indian woman who was homeless, she was a highly educated investment banker who lost everything after 911. That scared me.

She was actually really wealthy at one point, and she had pictures to prove it. However she lost everything in an instant.

I was in New York on 911. I didn't lose a damn thing, no friend or relative of mine was in the twin towers. I was five miles away. However I felt it, felt the feeling of loss, even if it wasn't personal, it was in the air. 

Someone was trying to take something away from me, my idea of peace. I didn't give it to them though, the terrorists. If you let terrorists take away your peace of mind, they win. No way was I gonna let them win. 

I had a friend who was Muslim and the police suspected he was a terrorist because of his last name. They interrogated him with no cause. They almost ruined his life.

The police were racially profiling everyone during that time, I was "randomly" selected at the airport in New York every time. Many of us are one wrong move away from being incarcerated.

We are all so close to the edge of life, to the end of existence as we know it that we could lose our sense of self at any moment if we don't build ourselves inside.

The only thing we have is our peace of mind, or sanity, our self love. They can take everything away from you, but they can't take that away unless you give it to them.

I always thought that if I was wrongfully convicted of a crime and ended up in jail, they couldn't take away my ability to write, my ability to think. They couldn't take away my ability to meditate. Because I don't need anything material to do these things. 

Many of us are incarcerated in jails of our own making. I've been there. All I can say is, you hold the key. 

I want certain things to change in my life, for the better of course. But I know there is always the risk that they may change for the worse.

Things may change, but will I? Will I change for the better, or for the worse? I think it's up to me.


Image curtesy of Danilo Rizzuti at

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

A Room of One's Own

If you're feeling blue, lock yourself in a room, stand in front of a mirror, and dance - and laugh at yourself and be sexy. Dance the silliest and ugliest you've ever danced. Make fun of yourself and try to recover your sense of humor.

“It is much more important to be oneself than anything else. Do not dream of influencing other people...Think of things in themselves.” 
― Virginia WoolfA Room of One's Own

Well I finally did it, no I didn't move out of my parent's house yet, however I moved into their furnished walkout basement.  It has large windows, a kitchen, bedroom and shower.  Why I didn't do this earlier, I have no idea.  

Nothing could make me happier than having my own space.  I'm elated, on cloud nine.  I didn't realize how much I needed this. I needed room to breathe, to be me.

I needed a place where I can sing. I sing often, the acoustics are good down here. I smile much more now that I have a place where I can laugh at myself, cry at the world, and sing badly.

I even think I may start dancing down here for exercise, there is a rather large living room here that has open space.  There is a treadmill down here, however it's more of a conversation piece at this point. I hate the treadmill. I think the treadmill hates me too...

On another note, I've decided for various reasons I will probably stay in Michigan, I will look for a full time professor job here. Yes eventually I will move out of this basement, but for now things are good.  

Funny thing is that I feel happy. Sometimes I don't know what to do with that feeling. I don't know how to be happy. I'm not always sure what do do with myself. Sometimes I listen to Indian music and play the tabla on the table with my fingers. It's an Indian drum that is played with the fingers. I feel like I'm in a different country sometimes. I feel like I'm real.

I think I was becoming invisible when I didn't have my own space. I was disappearing. Apparently I exist though, and I have a place to be. Sometimes I feel like I'm playing house, like I used to in our old house when I was a kid.  I lived for a short while in the basement with my cousin Leena and we would pretend we were cool and single and dating and doctors. She went on to become a doctor and got married.
I'm still pretending to be cool and single and dating. I don't pretend to be a doctor anymore, however I'm trying to heal myself nonetheless. So I light candles and listen to soothing music and meditate. I don't feel alone. I feel like the universe is with me in here. I feel like I'm in the universe.

I feel free.