Sat Nam Said the Little Flower to the Bad Energy

Dallas Texas, where I was born, remains in my mind an eclectic city, with room for everyone. You could be 'queer' \, you just didn't talk about it. You didn't have to speak English, or go to Dr. Criswell's First Baptist Church Downtown. Perhaps this sophistication is due to Neiman Marcus and the annual 'fortnight' which showcased a different country. And maybe that is how the Hare Krishna's were accepted.

Kalachandji's was my idea of a really cool place to go for dinner. It was just off the lobby of the Dallas Temple. Yes! I couldn't tell you were a synagogue was: still can't. The place was just the essence of magical. I can still conjure up the smells of incense, the life sized wax figure on the altar, and the healthy delicious food.

Jump  ahead to last Wednesday, when I met my writing and yoga and brainstorm in slacks teacher at brand new but utilitarian settings for Golden Bridge Yoga, where Sting goes when in town. We didn't sample the food: I was in Whirling Dervish mode from finances. Like any good guru I guess, my teacher listened, asked questions and gave me, besides a new chant, she restored hope. Because when I'd parked outside, I was accosted by a beggar...no other word will do, and I found myself screaming. My safe little world with the yellow convertible was collapsing amid bad economic times and what I fear will become civil unrest.

I meditated on the words, I put the chant my iPhone.  By the weekend I was so worried I stopped eating and just tried to sleep. While I can say goodbye the apartment with the unpaid rent, not as easy dumping the car that served another version of my life, I don't know that walking away from it 'all' is correct.

Back to meditation.

Champagne Taste: Beer Barrel Budget

Saturday morning, with all that is going on around me, I did take time for breakfast at the Village Coffee Shop, which is tucked inside the 'gates' of Hollywoodland.  It's an inexpensive oasis up Beachwood Drive. My delightful waitress came over in just a  few minutes. "What can I get you?"
"A job", I replied, grimacing as I remembered this was the line Joan Crawford says to Eve Arden in MILDRED PIERCE.
Cheery waitress: "You can have mine." We continued this patter and I squeezed my order for crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, grits and white toast.
Then, I begin chanelling Greer Garson or Loretta Young with this "No matter how bleak my life may be...I've found that there others who..." 
BLEAK? I look at my Ralph Lauren shirt, my Brooks penny loafers, and want to kick myself.  Breakfast was about 10 bucks. And delicious.

Body and Soul

When I look back from the place I feel I am now.....on the river bank trying to cross to that next adventure and  embracing change, and the future, I will remember this summer with music by Amy and Adele....Gifted singers but with such different life circumstances. I see both of them in myself: freespirited and artistic yet mournful. It was this time last year I was fretting over my trip to Wisconsin. I knew Jeffrey would be the perfect host, and he was. I can't look back at that trip right now. I've deleted the pics and videos.

Summer Ends, but I ain't falling

So, on this day, after wandering through the wilderness in search of myself, I decided to grow up a little and figure my way out of the Canyon of the Dolls.  I've had it with so many things, mostly my own stubborn refusal to sprout wings and fly on to the next adventure. I can only blame myself, but I'm over blame.

And so, we begin the beguine.