The Mask Under the Mask

Last time on the Cat Who Swallowed the Canary we were talking Paul, the Guides and transmutational incantations. Sounds like I got your attention, and we could possibly be off to the races. Let's see where were we? Ahh yes, I was watching a mid-season episode of the Amazon Prime original "The Boys" starring none other than Karl Urban aka Xena's nemesis Caesar. I enjoy watching Karl, hoping to catch a glimpse of Caesar behind his eyes. The show is a gritty take on a parallel universe in which superheroes are flawed creatures hardened by heartache and power trips. Nothing in the show signaled I should have been monitoring for a trauma trigger.

There was a hijacked plane and Homelander and Maeve were dispatched to stop the hijackers and bring the plane and the 173 passengers home. I was stuck on the plane hijacking part, which in retrospect was a warning. I thought: No one hijacks planes anymore. You see what covid-19 has done to us? Now when I watch a television show about hijacked planes, I think ha, that sort of thing doesn't happen anymore. The security and health risks make it almost impossible, but also it's a different world since 9/11. This was my second clue to back away from this episode, but I ignored the internal signal.

Then the superheroes were on the plane to disarm the Arab terrorists. Really, in 2020 we are still stereotyping Arabs as terrorists? It's such a cliched trope at this point. This couldn't happen anymore but, I digress. Suddenly the rescue mission went sideways, and the plane and the passengers were doomed. The plane was freefalling, and the director and the set designer were doing a phenomenal job of creating tension and drama as the superheroes as well as the passengers realize the plane is falling too fast and the superheroes can't save them. That's when it happened. 

Suddenly I was back to 9/11 2001 hearing the whoosh of the plane come in too close and explode into the second tower. Then I was in the plane, not "The Boys" plane. Not the plane that crashed into the tower, but the one that was headed to the Pentagon. The one the passengers fought the terrorists for, and crashed in the field. I could hear the men hatching the plan to stop the hijackers and right before execution of the their plan the fatal last words "let's roll." 

The last thing I remember was throwing the remote, and going to the bathroom to try to calm down, and ground myself. Use your tools I heard a dear friend whisper in my head. I failed. I came back to the couch and fell into a catatonic state. I was in the throes of a panic attack I have not experienced in YEARS. It was intense. I was in that plane. I could hear the chaos and feel the cold bite of fear and knowing death was inevitable. I lay on the couch blinking, jerking for a few minutes as I stared out at the paused tv screen. 

Terror doesn't describe it. Fear does no justice. I was in that plane. I went on like this for a few minutes. I'm not sure how long it was in actuality but, it felt like an eternity. All I could do was hold on like one does on a roller coaster you know will end if you just hold on. Eventually I came back to my body. I went to the refrigerator and grabbed the buy-one-get-one-free cantaloupe chunks I bought last week. The chunks were cool and sweet as I sunk my teeth into them. The chilled sensation helped bring me back into my body. The sweetness helped soothe my dry mouth. Chew-swallow, chew-swallow, chew-swallow, I went on like this for a few minutes until I could see the bottom of the bowl. I drank some water and went to bed feeling disappointed that I had reverted back to my trauma place. I spent a few minutes as the host of my pity party. Kicking myself for believing I was better and healed. For goodness sakes I wasn't even on that plane. That wasn't even the plane I watched explode into a ball of flaming madness that would haunt my dreams and waking hours years later. The horror of the faces running at me as they ran from the explosion. That wasn't even the plane. I kept saying to myself. 

I had work the next morning, and all I could do was concentrate on the day. Concentrate harder than I have in a long time. At first I tried NOT to think about it, but that required thinking about what I was not thinking about. I managed to create some distance between myself and the plane. The one I watched explode, the one that crashed in the field and the one on "The Boys", but now I was teetering on the memory of the panic attack itself. The potency of it scared me. It had an all-consuming mind of its own. As it surfaced in my memory I approached it as one does a hot pan from the oven. Tentatively touching it: are you hot? Or a dead vs. sleeping body: are you alive? You rush in. Stop short. Touch. Pull away. Wait to see if it burns or stirs. Was that panic attack real? It threatened to get me if touched it. I left it alone. I made it through the work day.  A placid expression sealed onto my face. Serene, focused, pleasant. The mask under the mask.  

At home I couldn't resist the reality. Was that real last night? The panic creeped toward me full of doom, power and foreboding like a CAT 4 hurricane or typhoon or other diluvial natural disasters that we ignored for too long and now threatens the known universe and all in it.  

I am working with a teacher/coach. We discussed the panic attack and its perverse intensity. She had insight to share during our regularly scheduled session. The work we have been doing over the past few months has made me more permeable. Meaning I have more access to my emotions. I described it as a tourniquet being removed. I had to stanch a plethora of emotions after 9/11 in order to move forward. The stoppage was supposed to be a temporary solution, but it became a way of life; a bad habit if you will. I closed off increasingly more emotions. Before long, most of who I was lay on the other side of the tourniquet, dammed at the barrier.

The meditation practices, the knowing Paul and the guides are encouraging are loosening the tourniquet. Long held back feelings are rushing through me. I have feelings in my extremities again. I recognize conflict in myself and thoughts. I see things as they are, and as I want them to be. Most of all I have a deep knowing that I am present to my being and know that others are in some version of this knowing too. The path through the wilderness of growth is unknowable, but companionship of others fills me with joy beyond measure. 

They Cause Gentle Ripples on Your Skin

I considered "2020 so wack" as a potential title for this post. Or "the great pandemic of 2020". However, there is no certainty that this will be over in 2020 because (1) folks are afraid to take the vaccine. Yep, I said it #facts. And (2) let's be honest, there is nothing great about it unless you look through the lens of opportunity, and progress. I am referring to both the broad societal reckoning, and all the things we are facing as we shelter in place together, alone.

July was my one-year anniversary at my first "real" job since returning to the States. And by real I mean it provides financial and social advantages such as a steady paycheck, 401(k) benefits, on site medical attention that includes prescriptions, and intellectual stimulation also known as stretching. 

In the few hours that I am not working, I spend time thinking about how to meet my unmet needs. I always need things, but the pandemic brought them into high relief. I have always been a seeker. Whether it is of knowledge, adventure, realization or love I have always been searching for a better way to understand myself. In truth we all are.

I took steps over the course of the last few months to embrace the search, and the payoffs are what I am here to share. It's a departure from my usual topics, but it remains in the vein of expression of self-worth and my passion for travel. It's also an invitation to join me because traveling alone can be fun but, travelling companions certainly deepen the experience. 

This all started with a few podcasts, first shaman to the stars: Shaman Durek, and as revelations are wont to do, his podcast led me to another. Aubrey Marcus fitness and gym guru led me to Paul Selig. Paul is a channel and the first time you experience his channeling it will be weird. This is Aubrey's word not mine. I would describe it as confusing at first because the being he is channeling, yes the being, is whispering to him and then he is repeating what was whispered. It is best described as an echo. What peaked my interest quickly became all consuming. I repeated the words he asked me to repeat. It wasn't quite a command, but his voice definitely has some bass to it. I didn't have anything to lose by saying a few words, I began "I know who I am. I know who I am in truth." Tingles gently rippled across my skin. I later learned the words are more than just words. The words are coded with vibrational accord. 

Dear reader I know you are wondering what the words in the previous sentence mean when they are strung together. My suggestion is to experience Paul Selig for yourself. With an open mind I think you will feel the gentle ripples on your skin too.

In the meantime, I did what any red-blooded American who was inspired by a double talking, middle age bearded man speaking about vibrations, truths and mystical teachings would do. I googled him. I didn't find a whole lot. At least nothing that deterred my interest. All I could say for sure was the words shifted the energy in and around me. When my younger cousin called in crisis a few weeks ago I encouraged her to repeat after me as I said them. Days later she called to thank me for making time to talk to her. She struggled to describe what sounded like ripples and a new awareness to my ear. She said, "Mickie remember when I called you last week and you told me to say some words? I don't remember the words. I just know they helped me." 

There are books. Several of them. They are not linear, and neither is time according to the teachings, but you interpret as you wish. I chose to begin with the audiobook, "The Book of Freedom". What's it about you ask? My efforts to describe the book feel like trying to explain the flavor of an avocado or fresh shrimp to someone who has never had either. Avocado is more about texture than any specific flavor. Same goes for shrimp, unless it's bad, but we are not here to talk about shrimp gone bad. Perhaps it's like trying to explain sex to someone who has never had it.

"The Book of Freedom" is about life, but not the life we live. Instead it's about the life we presuppose people who are special, richer, more famous, more beautiful live. It's about those people that are happier than us. That are more in love than us. That is until TMZ shows them doing something crazy such as running into a salon to shave their head, and you realize we are all here making mistakes, falling off the wagon, and making a mess.

With all this learning. I began to feel grounded and unshakeable and prepared for whatever would come next because one of the teachings of the Guides communicating through Paul is there is no destination. There is no end. It's all journey. I began to wonder how I would fare when an opportunity for growth came my way. That's how I describe challenges now: opportunities for growth. I was excited to put the vibrational accords into action. And then there I was in the middle of the first season of the Amazon Prime original, The Boys, when opportunity knocked.

Until next time on The Cat Who Swallowed the Canary.

Woman on the Verge

My work from home situation

For weeks as the impact of the pandemic spread through our lives, I wondered what was next. I did my best to live in the moment as the media onslaught seemed to threaten our existence on the planet. I adjusted to working from home and homeschooling, but as my professional responsibilities ramped up, I began to feel the pressure. How to care for my son, work 40+ hours a week and manage to eat and sleep? With a key element in my support system in NYC dealing with a prolonged cough and nationwide restrictions, I found myself increasingly overwhelmed. My son's every need rested squarely on my shoulders. I felt the weight of it deep in my heart. Long accustomed to "handling" difficult situations well, I began to feel torn between motherhood and career with renewed intensity.

We are all coping with COVID-19 in various ways. Each of us in our private circumstance, but the minute we compare our situation to that of others, we have slipped into despair. Comparing our insides to the outsides of others is not only a waste of time. It is also irrational behavior that we all engage in from time to time. It is normal to have the thought, but it's important to let the energy of the thought pass through you as quickly as possible.

I was having trouble doing that. I was comparing and despairing that others were having an easier time managing their time and stress level. When I finally snapped out of it I remembered the best advice I can I take is my own. My son needed me. He is a social creature. The abrupt end to the social engagement of school, and a wildly disrupted routine was taking its toll. The school district offered one hour Zoom calls, but they did little to stem the tide of boredom and loneliness.  

When our children are not well, we are not well. As I sunk into this awareness I also began to speak up. I shared my list of anxieties with my virtual book group: The Cheetahs. They showed me enormous compassion and kindness, and I began to think clearly. Finally.

I had a few conversations with my boss and our HR Director. I chose to step back from work for a period of time. Two weeks to spend with Hunter, and two weeks part-time. Enough time to get him moving outside in the sunshine. Shower him with affection. Spend lots of time making eye contact with him and assuring him that we are safe. Yes our routines are disrupted but, I remind him often that we have each other. We take it one step at time and recognize that this is all temporary. We have started a gratitude practice. We document on paper all the things we are thankful for especially when we get down. 

Summer camp begins on Monday, June 1. It will mark my return to fulltime work. This time with my son has been an amazing experience. He teaches me patience in ways that are new and often challenging. I am excited for this next chapter. I look forward with optimism to the opportunities for growth that are ahead. 

A TEDx Talk Deferred...

Last time on The Cat Who Swallowed the Canary I was gushing about my only in my wildest dreams opportunity to give a TEDx Savannah talk. I was beside myself with pride and joy when things began to take a subtle turn into what I am calling the unstable unknown.

It began in early March. Glennon Doyle released her third book in her memoir series, Untamed. To say that I was looking forward to this third installment is an understatement. I listened to the second in the series via audiobook with rapt attention after Oprah named it to her book club in 2016. I had not read that kind of raw honesty that managed to inspire while it shocked me since Maya Angelou's I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. I could not stop thinking about Glennon's meticulously chronicled life and in particular her exploding marriage.

Then suddenly she met Abby Wambach and in quick succession dating and marriage. It was a lot to happen to someone who I thought I knew and understood. I was more curious than ever about Glennon. I thought she and Craig were working it out, but when she described what their sex life was like after she discovered he had been cheating on her for years, I was not altogether sure how they could move forward. Turns out they could not move forward, at least not as husband and wife.

I am not ashamed to admit that I am a Glennon groupie. I am a devoted follower on the Gram. So when she asked that we pre-order her third book I did. That allowed me to get have the book within day of the release delivered to my home. There was a book signing in New York that I hoped to attend but, my TEDx photo shoot was scheduled for the same day.

I highlighted my way through most the book within a few days. Savoring every detail especially that parts of her burgeoning romance will Abby. The book challenges women to put themselves first and let the rest burn, which is a radical concept because women are more often coaxed and cajoled to put themselves last. Placing the needs of their children, husbands and other obligations before their own. Here Glennon advocated revolt against all that. Focus on self and let the rest burn. Radical thoughts indeed.

When the book concluded, I was revved up with no place to go. I was finding my way back to a book that sparked the first revolution of my adulthood: The Celestine Prophecy. I recalled there were some sequels to it and began to look for them. Instead, a deep red background with gold lettering appeared in my suggestions feed: Mary Magdalene Revealed. It stopped me in my scrolling. This book called out to me in a familiar voice that I wanted to learn more about.

Within a few days I found myself besotted. It was moving, expansive and inspiring. The book is about the nature of love and the rightful place of the feminine in Christianity. It reveals what has been hidden from us.

As I sat fully immersed in the wisdom of the author, I was also working on the meat of my TEDx Talk. My talk is about authenticity and the only path to it is vulnerability. Both Untamed and Mary Magdalene were full of instructions of how to express those concepts. I was living inside my inspiration. I was eager to extol the joy of my self discovery when COVID-19 began to work its way into all of our lives.

The call came during my daily walk. It was one of the TEDx organizers. He called to say the event was being postponed. That was expected in light of the daily developments. He went on though. The event was postponed until next year. That last detail left me reeling, but I quickly saw the reality of the situation. The virus was only beginning to affect every part of our lives.

I am a Tedx Savannah 2020 Speaker

Me volunteering at TEDx 2 years ago

Seven years in Italy is a long time. It was a wonderful, most of the time. I am even grateful for the times when I wasn't living the dream. Now that I am back and just celebrated my third anniversary in Savannah I happy to report I am getting the hang of living in America again. I have fully reintegrated into American society. What does that mean? How is that different from say last year or the year before?
so glad that you asked. Last year and certainly the year before I felt very much the outsider with my nose pressed again the window looking in fogging it with my mouth breathing. I felt keenly out of touch with nature of how things move and work here. The rhythm of the language, the decrease in the number of seasons and the skittish, but sometimes rogue wildlife all took some getting used to.

Let's begin with the seasons. In NYC and Vicenza there are four seasons. Yes, yes, climate change has made them shorter and more extreme but there are four of them. Here in Savannah not so much. There are two seasons not so hot and too hot. Next is the accent. Once so strange to my to my ear. Who am I kidding? The southern accent is still unfamiliar to my ear, but there are some idiomatic expressions that are unique and helpful. More than once I have had the urge to us "y'all" instead of the plural you. It just fit the situation. I always forgo the urge and use something more natural to my natural way of speaking and say "you guys" or "hey". But my all time fave is: "It bees like that sometimes". Oh it is such a wonderful expression, and I get tremendous use out of it. Here it is in action: I went to that new comfort food restaurant. The food was delicious, but they got my order wrong and the service made me fee like I interrupted the server's lunch break. "It bees like that sometimes" is the perfect response.

I saved the best for last. The skittish yet oftentimes bold wildlife around here is a mystery and a delight. There is a gaggle of geese that commandeer the streets whenever they damn well please. There are easily 50 or more gees that will parade down the street here and we all know to get out their way when we see them coming. We had to rescue a turtle once, build a barrier to keep an armadillo out of the yard and finally deer can be seen grazing in the grassy areas of the sidewalks in front of the houses in my neighborhood.

In spite of the unusual challenges I have made incredible headway. Two years a go I volunteered at TEDx Savannah. First I created a role for myself that didn't exist, which allowed me to interact with all the speakers and organizers. Then I was invited to come back the second year to assist one of the organizers and this year I will be a speaker. Terry, my Toastmaster mentor has been gung ho about being a TEDx presenter for as long as I have known her. She believed the round of applause at the end of her talk would enrich her life and take her to heights yet unknown. I don't crave the approval of people I don't know. Instead I long for the approval of the people I do know.

However, I am learning that the only approval I truly need is my own. It is taking some time to get used to that idea but, I am on my way.

The Golden Age of Television Blazes On

The cast of All American

It's been a minute since I wrote about TV. I have been too busy out here living that life! But, there are a few months in Savannah that can be considered winter. Those months are December, January and February. And even those three months are mild considered the winters in northern Italy and Brooklyn, NY. Here the temperatures dip just below 50 degrees for a few hours before finding their equilibrium at low to mid 60s. Even with the mild weather I am spending less time outdoors and more time reading, watching tv or scrolling through Instagram. This month I discovered two gems. The first, All American, was a fluke. I read about the show in an article about the female character Bre Z, formerly of Empire fame. I tuned in out of curiosity, but stayed for the compelling storyline. The show is based on the true story of former NFL player Spencer Paysinger. It delves into his inspirational story of growing up in the rough neighborhood of Crenshaw and moving to Beverly Hills to play high school football. Think of it as a mash up of Beverly Hills 90210 and Boyz in the Hood.  I cried during approximately half of the 16 episodes. Granted I was pmsing for some of those, but I standby the emotional validity of those tears. I found myself cheering for the Beverly Hills High football team, and I don't know much about football. In fact I didn't even watch the Super Bowl! Once you get past the fact that these kids look nothing like I did in high school you are in for a treat. Take my advice keep the tissues close.

As you may or may not know I intended to BE Diana Ross when I grew up, but as it turns out I don't have a very good singing voice, contacts in the music or metaphysical world. I needed the later because there already is a Diana Ross and I can only replace her with magic or alchemy. Once I got over that, I wanted very much to be her daughter Tracy. That did not go quite as planned either. Next up Zoe Kravitz. I was obsessed with Denise Huxtable on the Cosby Show. I had never seen someone like her on tv or anywhere else. She was the epitome of cool. Now all these years later her daughter Zoe has turned the movie High Fidelity on its head. Zoe is in the lead role and she has that same strong sparkle that Lisa Bonet has on screen perhaps an even stronger sparkle. She shines in Big Little Lies but, in High Fidelity she is open and vulnerable and yet as mysterious and captivating as her mother was in the original.

It is refreshing to see Zoe break out of her shell and express a full range of emotions. It's what I have always wanted for her. Well that and to be her of course.

The 2019 Round Up

Turkey legs are a thing at Magic Kingdom

Although we are securely in 2020 I feel a 2019 roundup is necessary because it was such an amazing year. I found my footing in Savannah, both professionally and personally. To be sure there were challenges, but the rewards were better than I could have imagined, and I am grateful for all in equal measure. 

The highlights of the year were easily the Xena Retreat and the new job. To have one of those happen in the year would have been amazing. Instead I had the opportunity to spend three days immersed in my favorite television show and meet other women more obsessed than I am with Xena. Then when the timing was just right an amazing job opportunity plucked me out of obscurity. And just like that I was back in the corporate game. It is not the most exciting job, but it is in my field, near the house and I have enough flexibility to have lunch with Hunter once a week.  

We had dear friends from Italy spend the holidays with us. We took a quick trip to Orlando and spent a few fun filled days at Disney and Cape Canaveral. It was exhilarating to have a piece of my Italian life here with me in Savannah. 

I also chose to work with a life and business coach this year. I met Samantha almost immediately after my arrival in Savannah via Meetup. All the chaos you have likely heard about in the news is true, but the folks holding down the the fort at WeWork and are keeping the Meetup.com social networking platform alive, but I digress. I attended a few of Samantha's events and we soon became friends. She introduced me to a few other women online and a few others in Savannah as well. I watched the people she surrounded herself with grow, change and become more. Of what you may ask? More of who they are. 

It began to dawn on me that I had an unmooring after Italy. Seven years away from friends and family can do that to girl from time-to-time. With new adjectives and roles in my life I often felt adrift. I am American but, there are still a great many cultural obsessions that I missed out on and often don't relate to here. Memes, gifs., and a few Microsoft word shortcuts to name a few.

Let's welcome Samantha to the performance area that is my life. Although we are friends I wanted to change that relationship into something of a more professional nature. I had never done anything like that before. Your therapist can never be your friend. Same as professors, well perhaps professors can become your friend. That is a story for another day. Today we are discussing my decision to hire my friend as a business and life coach. 

When I approached Samantha with the idea she was surprised. She knew I had a business  idea I was trying to get off the ground. I had attended a few online workshops with her for that, but then I realized I needed to do some inner work to fix a vibrational issue. I knew she could help with that too. I was very clear with her: I want to vibrate higher and I think you can help me do that.  

We agreed to 12 sessions over the course of seven of the best months of my life. All of our sessions were online and recorded so that I could view them later if I needed (I have not needed.) She gave me books to read, The Four Agreements. Videos to watch, The Circle of Influence. There was even homework.

I was racing to work after dropping my son off at school one morning. A police officer stopped me for going 62 mph in a 55 mph zone. He let me off with a warning but, the traffic stop scared me half to death. Traffic stops gone wrong are allover the news and social media. Samantha helped me to pull apart all the fear and anxiety around the traffic stop. In some of our sessions we tackled 9/11, but mostly importantly she helped me regain the inner confidence I lost after a bout with postpartum depression and the house fire in Italy. There is always more work to be done, but the work I put in last year has set me up for a terrific 2020.