"It's Too Late to Apologize, It's Too Late!"** Sorry, I've got that song running through my head.
One of the frequent questions I get from the female of the species is, "Doesn't he realize what he did!!!!!"
So I take a look and find, yep, Mr. Dude-Gone-Wrong indeed does know that he made a boo-boo of monumentous proportions, that he stepped in a pile so large he almost drown in it. Not only that, but he fully intends to make it better.
So here you sit, waiting for him to come crawling back on his belly like the snake he is, acknowledging his culpability and abject sorrow -- waiting, waiting, till you need a visit to the emergency room for stitches from biting your tongue.
Finally, Mr. Romance (aka Mr. Is-The-Coast-Clear?) comes forth, bearing gifts yet. He says, "Hello, Darling. My, you're looking beautiful today! I brought you these roses which pale next to your beauty!" (Yes, it's corny, but under circumstances as drastic as these, one can never overdo!)
Expecting you to swoon, flutter your eyelashes and beam at him in appreciation for his romantic gesture, instead, your face turns as red as the roses the dolt is holding, you make a gutteral sound as if he had pierced your heart with the thorns, and your eyes bulge at him as if he was strangling you. He briefly considers calling 911 to report your seizure, until he realizes, to his horror, that this most unattractive display is directed at him!
You, my dear, have just been hit by (insert echo effect here) "THE MANPOLOGY!"
While he's wondering what he could have possibly done wrong now, you're wondering how he could be so incredibly stupid.
Where did it all go so wrong? Let's rewind this scenario a bit.
He calls and suggests a movie. You are imagining a night out at your favorite restaurant, followed up by cuddling and crying together at the latest chick flick.
Instead, Mr. Dude walked into your house with a six-pack and a DVD of Terminator, The Final Frontier, Part 27, whose only redeeming feature is a momentary glimpse of the reigning California Governor's bare ass.
You are rendered speechless in your disappointment and remain mute. He finds it an incredibly peaceful and enjoyable evening.
The next morning, Dude wakes up from his run-in with the stupid stick and realizes that your whimpering during the movie wasn't in response to the fact that 60-year-old men with political aspirations shouldn't be bearing their bums, and that he must have somehow offended you.
Determined to make things right -- whatever his crime against humanity was -- he goes into the first phase of Manopoly.
Now please be aware that Dude does care -- although in the first phase, you will doubt this fact -- or he would never even mess with a Manpology.
Phase I - He becomes very very busy. It can be work, friends, family, neighbors, even his cousin's neighbor's mother's dog. It doesn't matter the reason, he's incredibly busy. I call this the "Is it safe to go back in the water" phase.
When he next contacts you, if he hears the Jaws theme playing in the background, he's still busy for a bit.
Now you also have to realize, dude is not one who lives in the past, or likes to rehash bad memories (umm, mainly ones he caused). Instead, let's make the future better.
Phase II - This is where the flowers and compliments come in. He's going to be really really nice, showing you how considerate he is and how much he loves you. And he's also holding his breath that it will work and you won't want to have a "talk."
Now unfortunately for dude, you want to "discuss" it to death. You want to make sure he knows exactly how you "feel" and apologizes appropriately.
And voila, you end up with a misunderstanding the size of New Jersey.
So what's up? What do we do with the Manpology?
First off, understanding is half the battle. Let's narrow the distance between Mars and Venus.
Dude is making an attempt to make things better, which does mean he knows something is wrong, and his taking steps to make it better is an apology.
I know it isn't in the manner you'd prefer, but when you pop it in the Mars-Venus translator, it all comes out the same.
** Song "Apologize" by Timbaland
This is what we call my cat's favorite toy, incorrect grammar and all.
Last Christmas, Santa brought Cali Kitten a small stuffed heart made of felt, attached to a piece of elastic, attached to a stick, and wrapped in green ribbon.
Now Cali generally loves to play, but nothing has ever compared to her love for the Bestest Toy In The Whole World. The day after Christmas, I began finding small tufts of stuffing around the house, only to discover Bestest Toy's heart was now hollow.
The next day, the heart was not only hollow, but the middle of the heart was missing, and it was now a shapeless piece of felt hanging from elastic.
As the year has progressed, it resembles a couple small scraps of felt, with several knots, evidencing the many times we have performed delicate surgeries on Bestest Toy. Still, Cali loves it. She guards it fiercely from Lilith, Dog of Wonder, and frequently drags it behind her, stick and all, meowing, alerting us all to the fact that she's the mighty hunter, and of her conquest over her prey.
So why is this toy so beloved? Why this toy, and not the various toys in the animal toy box????? She has many other toys on elastic and sticks, and we have since tried to find replacements as Bestest Toy is well on its way to being loved to death.
I have no answer for you. It just is. But then, love is just like that. We can't explain it, we can't capture it in our hands, we can't see it except through acts evidencing it, proving its illogical existence.
Yet love is a basic human need, right up there with breathing.
Except for perhaps love for a child, and in my case, chocolate -- which was love at first bite -- it's nothing instantaneous, or at least shouldn't be.
And love really isn't something that can be attained by sheer will or a demand to be loved. It just is, or it isn't. We all know we can't make someone love us, as hard as we try.
I know a year or so back, when The Secret was so popular (which I personally feel was a pop, over-simplified version of the laws of attraction), I had callers determined that if they just sat and were totally determined to make someone love them, it would happen.
Of course it doesn't work that way.
Is there a solution or a cure for love? Yes. It's called time, and, unfortunately, pain -- and a pint of Hagen Daaz.
If you want love, be lovable. No, I don't mean giving your all to someone who isn't giving back. But just like the old adage, you have to be a friend to have a friend, you have to love to be loved.
Ask for love. Noooo, don't go up to your dude and say, "Love me, please." Ask the Universe, ask God, ask your guides, your angels, ask the air.
Don't say, "Make Dude love me." Say, "Bring me love." I get many arguments and foot stomping on this one, callers saying, "But I already know who my love is!"
And I tell them, "If it's him, you win. If it isn't, he will be replaced by someone better and -- guess what -- you win!"
I think the saying is true, a life well loved is a life well lived.
YOU so deserve it. All you have to do is stop holding so tight to what isn't and open yourself up to what can be. Illogical, perhaps, but so is love.
There are so many forms of love, from romantic love, to family love, love of self, which is your first step, to, yes, inexplicalbe love for a ragged little toy (thankfully, Cali hasn't mastered the art of reading yet, so shhhhhhh, don't tell her I said that).
So I'll continue to piece Bestest Toy back together as best I can without question. After all, if Cali can inexplicably love something, just because it feels right to her, why can't you?
Meow.
Repost per request.
With sincere apologies to Dr. Seuss and his book "Oh! The Places You'll Go":
OH! THE MEN YOU WILL MEET!
Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to meet men!
Perhaps a roll in the hay!
You have brains in your head
You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself toward
any man that you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the one who'll decide who will come and go.
You'll look up and down men. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
why do you insist on picking that no-good cheat?
And the good, you may not find any
you'll want to go with.
In that case, of course,
you'll discover Prince Charming a myth.
So keep yourself open and out there
because out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.
And if bad things start to happen,
don't worry. Don't stew.
If you just keep moving and keep your head up
good things will start happening too.
OH!
THE NEW MAN YOU HAVE MET!
You'll be on your way up!
You'll be seeing great sights!
You make love all day
and never have fights!
He won't lag behind, because he'll have the speed.
He'll give you attention, and all that you need.
Whatever he does, he's the best of the best.
The man of your dreams, he will top all the rest.
Except the day that he stops, without a word
And you're left wondering, isn't this absurd?
I'm sorry to say so
but, sadly, it's true
that jerks really can happen
to nice girls like you.
You can get all hung up
and left in the lurch
wondering how this did happen
after all your research.
You'll come down from the lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you'll be in a slump.
And when you're in a slump,
you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.
You'll meet a new man, maybe Tom, Dick or Mark
But you'll be so confused, cause your heart is still dark.
Do you dare to go out? Should you stay in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?
And IF you go out, this time will it be right?
Will he be the one, or maybe, not quite?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for someone who's been burned
to make up her mind.
You can get so confused
that your heart will start to race
down a long dark road at a break-necky pace
it seems to drag on forever that weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...
...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a man to come or to go
or the e-mail to come, or the tears not to flow
or the phone to ring, or just an answer to know
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
like waiting for your hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.
Waiting for morning, in the middle of the night
or waiting in what feels bitter cold, oh, you're a sight
or waiting around, this just doesn't feel right.
or waiting, perhaps, for a guy named Jake
or a pot to boil, or a better break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wish to come true, just one more chance.
Everyone is just waiting.
NO!
That's not for you!
Somehow you'll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You'll find the bright places
where your long lost friends are playing.
With your shoes flip-flapping,
once more you'll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you're open to a new guy!
Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored. There are games to be won.
And the magical things you will feel when you do get that call
will make you the winning-est winner of all.
My, you'll be popular, as popular as can be,
everyone will want you, all the men that you see.
Except when they don't.
Because, sometimes, they won't.
I'm afraid that some times
you'll play lonely games too.
Games you can't win
'cause you'll play against you.
All Alone!
Whether you like it or not,
alone will be something
you'll be quite a lot.
And when you're alone, there's a very good chance
the fears in your mind will scare you
right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won't want to go on.
But on you will go
though the weather be foul
On you will go
with jerks on the prowl
On you will go
walking with a scowl.
Onward and alone
feeling quite bleak,
though your heart may get sore
and your soul may get weak.
On and on you will hike
and I know you'll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.
You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
with many strange men as you go.
So be sure when you step
step with care and great tact
and remember that life's
a great balancing act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.
And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)
THEN, YOU WILL MEET HIM!
So...
be his name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you've finally met him!
Today is your day!
Your man is waiting,
he loves you,
this one will stay!
We hear it everywhere, "Do you want to be happy?" "I want to be happy." "I'm just not happy." "Everyone else is happy. How come I'm not happy?"
Happy, happy, happy. Happy, schmappy. Some days I think if I hear that word misused and overused one more time, I'm going to -- hmmm, scream is soooo cliche -- I think I'll go punch out one of those little smiley faces.
Nobody walks around happy all the time. If they tell you they do, they're lying - with the possible exception of Hugh Hefner on Viagra. In the world of Laurie (yes, sometimes a sick and twisted place), satisfaction is where it's at.
Am I satisfied with my life? Do I like where I'm living, what I'm doing and who I'm loving? Can I spend time alone and be perfectly okay? Can I find satisfaction in fulfilling my responsibilities, even though at this moment, it might not be what I prefer to be doing?
If you can answer yes, you are satisfied with yourself and have attained a sense of peace, peace within. To me, happy comes in spurts, moments, occasions -- after a great call on Keen where I feel I made a difference in someone's life, a good laugh, a delicious piece of cake (chocolate, of course), being proud of my daughter, or just the simplicity of feeling warm and loved.
So often lately, I've noted people reaching for the elusive happiness, and not feeling the satisfaction and peace with what they have in the N-O-W. If only they had money, love, a house, car, whatever, THEN and only then, will they be happy foreverafter.
I spoke to someone a while back who was unhappy because she hadn't met "the dude." So we looked at her life, and we found that she was at a truly good spot in her life -- a good job, liked where she lived, precious pets she loved to death, family nearby, and plenty of friends to do things with.
But no partner to share it with. Now it's pure human instinct to want to be loved, so of course it would be a lie to say she didn't desire that. But really, life wasn't so bad. She knew bad. She'd visited that dark place a couple of times in her last relationships. And that dark and angst-filled place was one she learned a lot from and had left far behind, with no desire to revisit.
But at the moment we spoke, she didn't care. She said, "One bad apple spoils the bunch," meaning, "I'm so taken up with what I don't have, it's spoiling everything else. Because, after all, 'everyone else' around me is happy."
This brought to mind a conversation I had a lifetime ago when I first got married, when a coworker said to me, "What's the best thing about being married?" I got this warm and squishy feeling inside and replied, "Someone is there, all the time."
Then she asked, "Okay. Now answer this one -- what's the worst thing about being married?" After thinking about it, I said, "Someone is there, ALL THE DARN TIME!"
And this point was brought home by my daughter the other day. Going into her senior year in high school, she's facing the daunting task of doing college applications, her senior thesis, and her entire future. Frustrated, she whined, "Mom, I wish I could just go back to elementary school," not realizing in elementary school, she was chomping at the bit, anxious to grow up and experience the freedoms that come with age and responsibility instead of enjoying the carefree life that only exists in childhood.
And what an exciting time of life she's at now, with so much yet to unfold!
My point is, there is "good" and "bad" in everything, every phase of our lives.
So to my dear caller, and those of you just like her, just work on peace within, satisfaction with yourself. Just because Mr. Dream Dude isn't here right now, doesn't mean you can't enjoy your freedom. Soon enough, you will experience love, with its joys and its sorrows.
Soon enough, you'll have someone you'll have to compromise with, to think of and to take into consideration. You won't be able to leave that wet towel on the bathroom floor or wear those granny panties when all your clothes are dirty. So live on the wild side, throw the towel on the floor, eat pickles for dinner, watch a chick flick and cry -- ENJOY.
And let me give you a little hint: There is nobody on earth more attractive to others than someone that is confident, secure and satisfied within. If you can attain that goal, you'll be a dude magnet.
Let's go swimming!!!! Which pool would you like to swim in, the wading pool or the nice double Olympic-size pool (and I'll even throw Michael Phelps in the mix)?
Now I'm sorry to say, the little wading pool belongs to the women of the species, although we have a multitude of pools, small though they may be -- say about the size one might find in Barbie's Dream House.
Now the Man Pool is immense, one huge pool, where a dude can do the breast stroke (pun intended), and do laps till he's all worn out, or swim in circles for years before he's back at the beginning.
Now of course I'm talking about the pool of available prospects.
Let's use an example. Say you're a beautiful, accomplished, educated, professional 40-year-old female doctor. Who are you going to date?
Although the world may be teaming with available dudes, women tend to want someone they consider on their level or above. While the poolboy may look good, and may amuse you for a while, you tend to want an accomplished, educated, professional dude that you can relate to.
Although these days age isn't as much of a factor, we usually tend to want someone around our age or older. When we are presented with younger dude, issues arise regarding appearance. Face it, sadly, our society is so appearance-conscious, it takes an extremely self-confident woman not to worry whether dude either is or will be dissatisfied with her appearance as she ages. I get the calls to prove it. And strangely, the women are far more stressed about it than their younger dude is.
The dude of our fair Dr. Maiden's dreams will tend to be her equivalent or above in all categories.
Now grab your water wings, and let's take a dip in the dude pool.
This time, let's make it Dr. Dude, with the same parameters, hunky, accomplished, educated, professional. Who does Dr. Dude want? You could drown in his dating pool!
Just like Dr. Maiden, his world is also teaming with available prospects, but here's the dif: in his case, he's inviting them all in -- with scuba gear, no less. He's got everyone from the 20-year-old receptionist who barely graduated high school to the 40-year-old doc down the hall.
The part that sucks is, it's his choice. Does he want the nubile, young receptionist, or Dr. Maiden, our heroine in this story, who he can communicate on the same level with?
Now before we go changing his name to Dr. Pig, these women aren't exactly resisting his charms, or his money. And after all, we do have the same choices, however unsatisfactory they are to us.
Part of it is also genetics. Dudes are much more prone to pick a young, beautiful woman than we are to pick her male counterpart. Why? It's built into their, ahem, homing device to find a woman of the species to who can produce good, healthy junior Dr. Dudes, just as our preference is to seek out a good provider.
So what's a girl to do? Absolutely nothing.
As unfair as it seems, I wouldn't change a thing. Do I want to spend my life with the poolboy? Nah. Poolboy might be a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there.
Keep your standards high, and don't ever settle for less than you deserve -- nothing but the best for you, baby!
Due to several requests, I'm reposting this blog from several months ago.
How could he not love you? After all, you are the most beautiful, the most loving, the nicest, kindest and most generous woman in the whole wide world!
Think of all you've done for Mr. Dude. You make yourself available every time he calls, even if your job or friendships suffer. You build his ego and constantly tell him how wonderful he is. You cook for him. You buy him little gifts. You send him loving notes. You let him know that he is stud of the world, a man among men, and only his joy stick can satisfy your playstation. Perhaps you're even giving him money or supporting him.
You've turned yourself into quite the gymnast doing all those back bends. You've become so proficient at jumping through burning hoops, you're considering supplementing your income by hiring yourself out as a circus dog.
And yet . . . you're not getting the result you desire. The Dudling is not recognizing the wonders of you like he did in the beginning, so you, sweet little Dudette, decide to step it up and do more.
But it seems instead of helping, you're becoming more anxious, more fearful, more angry and downright resentful. After all you've done for Dude, not only is he not appreciative, but he seems to be pulling away from you. Doesn't he owe you after all you've done for him?
Now stay with me here and keep breathing. The answer is no, he owes you absolutely nothing.
And why is that, my little stalker chick? Because he never asked for ANY of it. You did it all by yourself. In fact, it may be making him not only feel bad, but emasculated and decidedly undude-like.
I mean sure, the first hundred e-mails were cute and charming, but for every one he answered, you sent 20 more. Woe is you at this point if you should send him a message that actually needs an answer, because your cute little cards and letters have ceased to be special or cute, and he's considering sending your mail to its own very special folder. I think he called it SPAM.
Why, oh, why? You're doing too much.
Let's look at it this way: Do you like it when you owe people? What if someone loaned you some money and they kept accruing interest so fast that you couldn't keep up with it?
Wouldn't you feel uncomfortable about it and them? Natural human tendency is to avoid that which makes us feel bad. So do you really honestly want him to feel like he owes you?
Let's use another example. It's Christmas and you have a choice between spending it with your Aunt Alberta or your Aunt Cementine.
Aunt Alberta sends you $1000 every year. She loves you desperately and she makes sure you know how much she misses you and lives for your visits. She's been so great to you, but it seems you just can't do enough for her, and you know if you don't go see her, she will cry; and if you do, it still won't be enough.
Aunt Clementine never sends you a damn thing. She loves you lots, and would be absolutely delighted to see you. But really, she's too busy having a good time to cry if you don't show up. Aunt Clementine is happy and busy, and you can walk in the door with a present, or just bring yourself, and she'll be delighted to see you and you know you'll have a great time.
Who would you rather visit? And who would you rather be, an Aunt Alberta or an Aunt Clementine?
So my best advice to you? STOP. CEASE. DESIST. N-O-W.
Stick with me here. No, you didn't hear the phone just ring and that unknown caller wasn't him, just a telemarketer. And even if it was, it wouldn't hurt you not to be available. In fact, it might even be a good idea to be busy -- for real even.
Let him do some work. That's what you wanted in the first place anyway. If you change your behavior, his will change, too. With the dudes of the species, actions speak louder than -- well, than your pointing at everything you've done and making him feel like an unappreciative dolt.
Think of it as your Universal Metamucil. If you want regularity from his end, then you have to stop overcompensating and start putting in an equal amount from yours.
We all want to win, every one of us. And nothing tastes sweeter than victory after a long-fought battle.
But sometimes I find, somewhere along the way, we took our eye off the ball and let it become all about the fight and winning rather than the prize.
Let me give you an example. Say you met a dude (you knew this was where I was heading, didn't you????). In fact, this dude is so charming and romantic and everything about him is simply perfect -- well, except for the fact that he's been quite honest with you, he doesn't want to commit. He's Slippery Dude!
Or take the example of Married Dude. Married Dude loves you, wants to be with you, thinks you're an angel dropped straight from heaven into his lap. But, he's Married Dude.
Oh, how you want Married Dude or Slippery Dude. Your life would be perfect, if only, sigh, you two could be together. You would do ANYTHING -- and I mean ANYTHING -- if only you could have this man.
Love is not enough (it never is), nor are the good times you spend with this man. You must WIN!
Your life revolves around this goal. Yes, you get discouraged. Yes, you lose hope. Yes, you cry, you hurt, but you can't give up. After all, your goal could be right around the corner, the summit might be right around this next bend on the mountain trail. You can't stop now!
Now along the way, spending time with Dude, you might have noticed a few warning signs. Maybe Dude drinks too much; maybe Dude is lying to you; maybe Dude hurts you consistently and doesn't care; in the case of Married Dude, maybe he is far more concerned about keeping his wife happy than hurting you; maybe Dude has cheated on you; maybe he puts his friends first; or perhaps Dude belches, farts, scratches, eats with his mouth open or chews tobacco and spits - all over your new couch. Pick one, doesn't matter. You get the idea. Things that under normal circumstances would be a deal-breaker for you.
Except in this case, you don't care. After all, once he's with you, you'll get him to stop drinking. If he's cheating, he won't because you'll be his permanent sexual fantasy. Is he a wuss when it comes to his wife? Oh, you'll put a stop to that once you're in control. In fact, all this will disappear once you have him.
None of it matters - all that matters is that he's yours and you WIN!
So let's say you win. Yep, you've finally won this fabulous prize among prizes!!!!! Congratulations. You've won your heart's desire and now you will be off to live the life you've always dreamed of.
Your life is perfect! You two will spend every night in bed sipping champagne and have mind-blowing sex until you can't even function. Except . . .
Every time he takes a sip of champagne, he belches - in your face. When he tells you he's going to the bathroom, he slips out the back door to go hang with his buds. When he tells you he has to work late, he comes home smelling of perfume. Oh, and the ex? She hasn't taken defeat lightly and he's even a bigger wuss around her than when he was with her.
It's like you've been competing in Dude Olympics and after years of training, not only didn't you get the gold, you got the tarnished tin.
What the hell happened? Absolutely nothing. He's the same person he was before, but somehow, it's exceedingly disappointing.
The problem here is, you took your eye off the ball. Your quest became more about winning than the prize.
You fought long and hard for a man who would never have gotten a second date with you if he had been offering himself up on a silver platter.
You accepted less than you ordinarily would have just because Slippery Dude looked so much more attractive because he was a challenge.
Everything you've been imagining with this Dude, all the daydreams about what he is and what you two can have, well, let's take a big dose of reality. You've been looking at a life with him filled with lollipops and sunshine, and a huge rock on your finger the size of Rhode Island. But in reality, things aren't going to change just because he's with you or just because you want them to. All those irritating little things will now be yours -- fulltime yet! He's not James Bond. He's just a regular guy.
Do you honestly think a serious disease like alcoholism is going to simply disappear because you want it to? Do you think he'll stop being totally self-centered when you snap your fingers? Do you really think he's going to stop lying just because? These are all the things that make him who he is.
And poor Slippery Dude. You've led him to believe that you love him, just as he is. All those irritating little habits? Oh, you've giggled when he farted, pretended belching in your face was cute, forgiven him anything, lying, cheating, stealing, hurting you. You've led him to believe you're the perfect woman who will accept him exactly as he is.
Now? Not so much on that, Dude. You have to change immediately! We're starting out on our perfect life, and by the way, I mean MY perfect life, not yours.
Why not keep your eyes open in the first place? If a guy says they can't commit, or tells you in the beginning that he's a douchebag in any way, shape or form, believe him. He knows himself better than anyone, and he's warning you.
So what's the answer?
There are plenty of Decent Dudes out there. A deal-breaker is a deal-breaker, period. Keep your eye on the ball, and make sure the prize you're fighting for is something worth having, maybe test the gold along the way, take a big bite to make sure it's solid, and not just gold-plated.
Be realistic about yourself and in your expectations of others. Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it. Nobody's perfect and the world we're living in is not perfect.
Ahh, well, the only perfect world I dream of anymore is one where chickens are free to cross the road without anyone questioning their motives.
I've been pondering something lately and I've found myself on yet another quest as to an explanation. Not surprisingly, it involves the brain of the dude of the species vs. ours.
Say Susan and Martha are on the phone chatting, when Martha's Dude beeps through on call waiting. What happens?
Duh. Martha will suddenly cut Susan off mid-sentence and exclaim giddily, "Oooooooh, Dude is calling! Let me call you back." Susan totally understands, and says excitedly, "Oh, go take the call!" Susan takes no offense whatsoever, and hangs up and goes on with her day.
Surprising? Not in the least.
Now, let's switch things up a bit.
Martha and Dude are talking on the phone. Susan beeps in. Martha looks at her caller ID, says, "Oh, Susan's calling." Dude asks if she needs to get the call, and Martha replies in horror, "Oh, no, Dude. I'm speaking to you and you're my No. 1. I'll call her back later."
They continue chatting, when suddenly, Dude's best bud beeps in. Dude exclaims excitedly, "My BDF (best dude forever) is calling. I gotta go!" and drops Susan like a hot potato to his oh-so-much more important call. They might only be discussing beer and throwing pizza at the ceiling -- but he'll do it to you every time.
Martha, indignant that she isn't Dude's reason for breathing, is offended. Now getting back to Susan is top priority so she can whine about Dude's behavior -- and we hope against hope that Susan is not on with her Dude or she won't answer.
"Susan! Dude would rather talk to his BDF than me!"
The truth? Martha's right. He would (okay, except back in the very beginning of the relationship, but refer to my blog "He's Been Abducted By Aliens" to explain that one).
For some reason, women put men first, but men put men first. Why is that?
Now some of you may remember a saying my grandmother used to quote me: For a woman, a man is her whole life; but to a man, the woman is just a small part of his. And generally, I find this to be true.
Women tend to identify themselves with love, who they love and who loves them. They'll give up friends, jobs, houses, whatever it takes, in search of and in support of love, even when it's to their detriment.
Men, they identify more with work, success, how in control, how good a provider they are or would be. They looooove time with the guys. Dudes make dudes feel very dudely. And they don't have to worry about drama or the feelings stuff. I refer to it as Testosterone Time.
Seems we haven't evolved that far away from the caveman mentality -- provider and dependent -- which is very odd in today's society since, by and large, all of us are working and the master of our own domain.
But frankly, I think Dude has something here. Who was with you before love came along, and who will be there after it's gone? Your friend. Who is there to support you when something goes wrong? Who will pick you up when you fall and tell you how great your ass looked when you landed on it?
Dude stays loyal and makes it a priority to make time for BDF, while we'll sell our friends down the river in a hot second for Dude.
So really, which one of us is a few clowns short of a circus?
You be the judge.
Okay, so we've all heard both factual and urban legends about people that just mysteriously spontaneously combust, haven't we? I tend to be a worrier, but I'd tend to worry more about a piano falling on my head than spontaneously combusting. It's extremely rare, but it can happen.
I had a completely different subject in mind for today's blog, but I suddenly had a spate of calls involving relationships where the person wanted more -- but they wanted it to just spontaneously combust, or heat up, with no fuss, no muss, no work, no words, just change. Sure, it happens, but it's extremely rare.
I mean, honestly, how many dudes spent their Sunday afternoon peering into their crystal balls in the hopes of finding out what your true wants and needs were? I have never seen mechanics in the NASCAR pit changing the driver's crystal ball. And the little ball that they're hitting through the grass is not made of crystal.
And the other question is, why should Dude O' Your Heart be trying to fix a relationship that to his knowledge isn't broken? He's satisfied, and you're not complaining. I think that's even rarer than spontaneous combustion.
The only relationship I've even seen dudes so diligently and spontaneously trying to fix is the one between themselves and their remote control, changing the batteries in record speed before the last quarter of the game starts.
Are you doing the friends with benefits thing? Let me ask you, is he even being a friend to you, and who is the one benefitting from this?
Now I don't have a problem with people doing the friends with benefits thing, as long as they're happy and satisfied with it. But one of the problems with the dudettes of the species is once we enter into sexual relationships, emotions quickly follow. I don't care how many women tell me they're just in it for the sex. As a conservative estimate, 99 percent of them are lying.
On the other hand, a large preponderance of the holders-of-the-remote members of the species (although in their defense, far less than 99 percent) think sex without all the responsibility of relationship or emotion is grand. And if you're willing to give it, he'll gladly accept it.
If someone came up to you and said, "Hey, do you want a free Starbucks latte," most of us would say, "Sure! Why not?" While it's a disturbing thought, it is an apt analogy.
Does he know you want more or are you just obliging him to show him how wonderful you are? Are you afraid to ask for more for fear of losing him?
Please note: You don't have him now, so really, what are you going to lose?
My advice is first, figure out what you want. No, not just with Mr. Unaware Dude, but in your life. Do you want marriage, a live-in, just someone to be share time with? Of course we already know you want it to be him, but just for argument's sake, for right now, generally, what do you want?
The second question is, if you can't have it with him, are you willing to accept this forevermore? Would you be willing to share your dream life with someone different (and I realize it's unfathomable now, but Different Dude isn't Worse Dude, he's just Different Dude -- most probably Much Better Dude since he's willing to give you what you want).
Now we've established what you want and recognize you're not getting it from him, what's the next step? The next step is a doozy. You have to wake up from the dream that he is going to just spontaneously combust.
First of all, give him a chance. Let's turn Unaware Dude into Aware and Able to Make Decisions Dude. Open your mouth and talk to him. You know what you want in life, and here you have a guy you'd love to attain that goal with, but in order to get from Point A to Point C, you have to go through Point B. B is still the second letter of the alphabet, it hasn't spontaneously combusted either, and you can't skip it.
You have to take a risk. Yep, in order to attain any kind of success, you must first set yourself on fire. Open your mouth and tell him what you want, such as, "I like you and enjoy spending time together. Coffee, a movie, or a conversation that goes past "Oooooh, baby" would be nice. I'm having difficulty just exclusively having sex with you."
And of course you have to realize that he may resist. He probably likes things the way they are, or he wouldn't be doing it. He may be terribly shocked that you don't.
The problem is, he may not want what you're suggesting. He may choose to walk away for a while, he may choose to walk away forever. It is a risk, and one you must be willing to take if you want to gain anything, like, say, self respect, at the very least.
But as the saying goes, "He who spontaneously combusts is a real hottie." No, that wasn't it. It goes like this:
The biggest risk in life is not taking one.
I have very strong opinions on the "closure" issue, mainly because most of the people who are asking for it want just the opposite.
Say Abandonment Dude just up and takes a powder. You didn't say or do anything -- in fact, everything seemed to be going along swimmingly. And one day he disappears, or sends a short text saying adios, or fades away, all the while smiling and telling you everything's just ducky.
And you, my darling heroine, are left with one heck of a lot of hurt and questions. What happened? Why? Were you not good enough (we love to assume it's us), was there someone else (always the second question), or did you do something?
Talk about pain. We're talking unbearable pain -- especially if you have no answers. It leaves you questioning yourself and everything about youself.
Now you can call me and every other reader on Keen all day and all night, and although we may give you some clarity and a bit of solace, you want to hear it from HIM! It's not unusual. We all want it from the horse's mouth.
Problem is, do you really think the kind of dude who would act so disrespectfully would miraculously turn into sensitive and caring dude and find his voice and perhaps another set of his anatomy to deal with you properly?
So even after talking to your trusty psychic and getting a handle on what happened, you're tormented and unbelievably hurt. You decide to write him a letter pouring out your feelings -- in fact, since you are harboring a boatload of feelings, it's a 10-page letter -- front and back -- in small print -- on legal-sized paper. In other words, a letter he will probably never read.
Or you could call him -- that's it! You'll leave him a message, or two, or fifty, which he won't return. If you happen to catch him on the phone, he's busy right then, he'd accidentally fallen into a coma and just now came to and couldn't call, but everything's just fine and he'll call you later -- not.
You see, it's very difficult for Abandonment Dude to take responsibility for his actions. He doesn't like to deal with it, which is precisely why he handled things the way he did in the first place. Now in Abandonment Dude's defense, he's not a monster. He does (or did) care. He's sorry he hurt you, and yes, he does feel guilty, which does not make him feel all warm and fuzzy about himself. Abandonment Dude avoids that which makes him feel bad, and that means you.
Now comes the sinister quest for closure. Many times I get the calls, "I want closure! I'm going to write him a letter." Honestly, I don't mind if you write him a letter, but let's be real about it. The majority of the time, you're writing a letter to remind him what a fabulous person you are; or how much he hurt you so he runs to kiss your boo-boo and make it all better; or discover what a big mistake he made; or even to find out that he fell over a mongoose, had amnesia, and only regained his memory when the postman hit him in the head with your 10-pound missive -- all in the name of getting closure, my little Cleopatra, Queen of De Nile.
As I said before, I don't mind your calling or writing him. I don't mind callers experimenting, not listening, not being willing to accept things, even doing stupid things. We all do, and we all do it in our own time. You think I've never been hit by the stupid stick? I have. Actually, I can remember my best friend sitting with me for three straight months after a break-up, while I turned, "Why, why, why?" into my personal mantra.
Another trap I've seen women fall into I call (insert echo sound effect here) "The Sympathy Zone." You call him with some tragedy, illness, death -- you get the idea. What kind of monster wouldn't hold you when you're grieving? Unfortunately, your hair isn't long enough to play Rapunzel, and getting him to temporarily feel bad for you doesn't mean he wants you. That's what your friends are for, and none of your friends would ever treat you as abominably as he has.
Knowing why you're doing something is a big requirement towards closure. Understanding anyone, including yourself, is half the battle. So if you're trying to get a reaction from him, admit it, even if it's dumb or immature.
So at this point, would you like to know what closure really is and how to get it? It's peace, peace within. And who is the one person in the world that can provide you with said peace? Noooo, it's not Abandonment Dude. No, it's not even me. It's YOU! And unfortunately, sometimes we have to find it without any answers or explanations from dude whatsoever.
Look at the situation and look at your behavior. Did you treat the other party and the relationship honorably? Then you have nothing to be ashamed of, and you can be at peace with that fact.
Did you make mistakes? Did you lie to him, cheat on him, try to stick a square peg in a round hole -- in other words, mold him into what you wanted him to be and not honor who he was? Then look at your mistakes, see what you would do differently and learn from it. Don't beat yourself up. Forgive yourself and come to peace with it.
If you learn from your mistakes, you're not doomed to keep repeating them.
One of the most important lessons I've learned with age is that peace is where it's at. If you can attain peace with yourself and the world, everything else just falls into place.
(Now let's take a moment of silence to honor my best friend who sat with me during a temporary break-up a few years back, and who now has the nerve to claim it was the worst three months of HER life.)
Of course I know it's "soulmate," and this blog isn't about shoes.
But I have an inside joke for "solemate." Once upon a time, in a land far far away, a friend of mine got a note from the object of her affection. While attempting to be sweet and romantic, he proudly declared, "We're solemates!"
My observation was that, indeed, she was his "solemate," firmly glued to the bottom of his shoe, not unlike a stick of Wrigley's Spearmint, as he sometimes tended to walk all over her.
Truthfully, the soulmate question is the bane of many a psychic's existence. It's overused, misused and abused. So let me explain my view of the soulmate dilemma -- and please note, this is solely (or souly, lol) MY VIEW.
Nobody has one soulmate. If you pass this soul-dude up, you're not doomed to spend life soulmate-less. We have lots of them, and they may not even be romantic relationships; they can be friends, relatives, the family dog (your souldog, lol), etc.
Many times, they can be very very challenging relationships, not someone that was specifically sent down from heaven above to bestow a large rock on your ring finger and skip off down the happily-ever-after road.
So I much prefer the term "karmic relationships," or relationships that are placed in your life for a reason, people you feel that sense of familiarity with, or people you are inexplicably drawn to and feel that "pull" with, sort of like two magnets coming together.
Now I'm no rocket scientist dudette, so I can't explain to you why or how magnets come together. They just do. And unless you pull them far apart or place an obstacle between them, they're together. Sometimes if the magnetic pull is strong enough, they come together even through or around obstacles.
This kind of explains those highly inappropriate relationships we sometimes find ourselves in that we can't fathom why we're even entertaining, doesn't it?
If this has happened to you -- and believe me, it has to most -- it can leave you feeling rather odd. You tend to question your feelings and attempt to figure out why you are so attracted to this dufus that exhibits none of the characteristics of your ideal dude. Totally lacking in logic.
But, as one of my favorite saying goes, if love was logical, Laurie would be out of a job.
So off we go, standing on the edge of the loooooove cliff with no parachute, having this irrepressible urge to jump off, and feeling that it's inevitably going to be a rough landing.
And remember, just as you are pulled, Mr. Dude can also be feeling it -- which may bring up a problem. One of the things I've noticed is just as both of you are staring at each other, scratching your heads in wonderment, either the little she-magnet or the little he-magnet can get scared and turn away due to the sheer intensity. They don't understand the overwhelming feelings, the familiarity, can't handle it, and run away.
If you've ever played with magnets, if the polarity is the same, magnets pull together. If one turns, they bounce off each other. Remember those little magnetic Scotty dogs we had as a kid? Same principal. Take heed. There is nothing worse than being in love and finding yourself staring up the a$$ end of a bouncing dog.
If you never had the pleasure of playing with the Scotties, go get yourself a pair. We can have our very own soulmate science experiment.
The result of some of these karmic relationships can be just like playing with your little Scotties, the magnets being pulled together and then bouncing off each other, pulling together and bouncing off again.
It's about then, I get the call, "I feel so connected to this guy. I know he's interested, and yet he keeps turning away. Am I crazy?"
Absolutely. Let me get your straitjacket and see if there's room with the rest of us in the Funny Farm called Love.
More on this later. I think I hear Jimmy Choo calling and I have this inexplicable urge to go shoe shopping. See ya.
It's kinda funny to imagine, but Valentine's Day is one of my busiest days of the year.
Do you want to spend your day munching on conversation hearts, crying at the "Call me" and "True love" sayings since it appears that the only thing that has fallen in love with you this February 14th is your expanding badonkadonk, or do you want to have your R-E-A-S-O-N-A-B-L-E expectations met?
Women, in general, love love love Valentine's Day and everything that goes with it. I mean, come on, what's not to love? Your special dude lovingly showering you, his one true love, with flowers, chocolates, and best of all, the EMOTION, the SENTIMENT that you know is hiding deep down inside of him, just waiting for this day to burst forth like Mt. Vesuvius erupting.
I mean, how many cards have you seen declaring, "I kinda sorta like you, but don't read anything into that"? They actually SAY things, things that many close-lipped dudes seem to choke on. Oh, the joy, the rapture. A day like no other!
So why is that day and the few days following so busy with calls from disenchanted partners?
It seems that as much as we love Valentine's Day, for Mr. Dude, it's just a big confusing day that they would much rather sleep through.
They wonder what to do, what to get. It's like walking through a minefield! If they get you something, will it be wrong? Will they disappoint you? If they bring you flowers, are you going to start planning the wedding? If they bring you chocolates, are you going to scream at them because it's the wrong kind, the wrong flavor, or you're on a diet?
Oh, and the cards! He spends all year trying to be a dudely dude, and then has to actually delve into those frilly pink hearty things. It brings back repressed memories of childhood, when the little girl behind him in the first grade beat him up on his way home because he tore the dum-dum sucker off her card, turned it into a spitball, and then proceeded to deliver her Valentine back to her in a rather wet and sticky fashion. It's enough to make your poor little dude among dudes break out in hives.
It's just all so confusing, so what does your Mr. Fuzzy Wuzzy Dudling do? He avoids the whole issue, including you, until the coast is clear well after Valentine's Day and you're left crying into your candy.
Sound familiar? Yes, you're not the only one this has happened to. You have company in the legions. Who DID you think was buying up all that Valentine candy? It's not the dudes, baby. Each year I have a desire to change the lyrics to "He Ain't Heavy," to "She IS Heavy, She's My Sister."
So how DO we avoid reenacting the scene?
Here's my 10-step Valentine program:
1. Realize that he's a, well, dude. He was born without the Valentine gene. Unless you've been together a while or he's exceptional (and then you should be sending a Valentine to his mother), he doesn't just "know" what to get you.
2. Figure out what you reasonably (did I mention you should be reasonable?) expect. One of the most important aspects is to have reasonable expectations. If your guy is allergic to emotion, you can't expect him to suddenly become anyone other than himself, so pick something within or not too far outside of his comfort zone. Instead of a room filled with blooms, would you be touched by a single red rose? Is a simple card what turns you on? Would you be happy with any effort whatsoever?
3. Tell him. Yep, simple as that. If you're the type that refuses to tell him anything and he just BETTER produce or else, most of the time this method will get you nothing but nominated for martyrdom.
4. Forget the simple part above. You have to be natural, genuine, and a bit crafty.
5. Don't be obnoxious. Don't set out pictures of the FTD bouquet you want him to bestow upon you. That's no fun. Instead, mention you like daisies, or how elegant you find yellow roses, how much you like milk chocolate. Or, if you're like me, a card with a small personal note means more than anything money can buy.
6. Start now so you can naturally work it into conversation over the next couple weeks. Oh, and it would be best if you did this at a moment when he's actually listening.
7. Casually mention Valentine's Day. No threatening looks, no clenched fists, just mention that it's coming up or how much fun it is.
8. Sit back and wait.
9. Watch the light bulb go off as he says to himself, "Self, Valentine's Day is coming up. She loves yellow roses. It would really make her happy if I got her some."
10. Give away those extra boxes of chocolates you bought for yourself to drown your sorrows.
Let's face it, if he cares about you, he does want to make you happy. If you're asking for something REASONABLE, that is within his comfort zone, he will try to please you. Giving him a hint will help both of you.
If you still get a Valentine bouquet filled with nada, well, there may be a few extra problems, and I will be, as always, on call from 8:30-2:30 PST, and available for callbacks after 5:00 p.m.
Happy Valentine's Day!
. . . . . well, if you don't read it. I don't know why, but that song "My Boyfriend's Back" has been running through my addled brain, so I thought I'd do you all the kindness of sharing. Now admit it, you have it running relentlessly through what's left of your mind, too. Don't ya just love me????
Hmmm, now, where have I been? Actually, I've been right here on Keen. My summer schedule changed and I took things a little slower throughout the summer, spent time with my daughter and (gasp) have been teaching her to drive. So should you find yourself in Southern Cali, beware! And if you have any suggestions for relieving the severe pain I'm developing in my right foot from pressing the floorboard of the passenger side in a fruitless attempt to somehow magically stop the car, let me know.
Our little family is intact other than the loss of our dear little hamster Violet, who went into the light a week ago Monday. Why does it always seem that when our animals become aged and ill that we become even closer to them, nursing them through their last days, making their loss even more poignant?
Now we're considering acquiring a chinchilla. Why? Because we can. I am beginning to believe my life's purpose is to own every pet animal known to man - except snakes. Oh, how I hate the snakes. Have fun with that one, all you amateur psychologists.
Oh, and Lili, Dog of Wonder, got, ahem, groomed, if you can call it that. She was incensed! Oh, the humanity! For a week, I swear Lili was walking around the house plotting the slow and painful death of the groomer.
But enough about me. Let's talk about you. Check back tomorrow for "The Best Little Girl in The World - Yes, I Mean YOU!"
I'll end for today by enclosing a pic of Lilith, Dog of Wonder, aka Queen of the World, with her new "do." If you want a "before" pic of Lili, check out my advisor page - oh, and give me a call while you're there!
Everybody sing, "Schoooooool's out - for - the summer!" Well, that is if you don't count summer school.
In most parts of the country, I believe summer school is only there for those that have failed or not done well during the school year and have need to repeat. Punishment.
In my over-achieving locale, all the kids go to summer school. Not because they failed, but to get ahead. I remember in Katie's elementary school a teacher telling me they didn't have time to teach the kids the times tables, that was up to the parents. The teachers would just test them on it.
So Katie goes to summer school, this year taking World History. Her choice! Why? Because she can get an entire year-long class finished in an intensive six weeks, which will free her up to take her college courses in her junior year of high school.
Yes, junior year is no longer about junior year. You take AP (advanced placement) courses, take the test at the end of the year and voila, college courses are now out of the way. She's a smart kid, but no, she is not Doogie Howser. This is somehow considered the norm here and anything less is failure.
So I've been thinking, if we start our kids off right, get them right into school directly from the womb -- let summer breaks and winter breaks be a thing of the past -- who needs that Santa Claus crap anyway when you're on the fast track -- maybe they can retire by the time they're 15.
But what happened to the magic and innocence of childhood?
What happened to the last day of school where you looked forward anxiously for a loooooooong summer filled with swimming and kids running loose, catching fireflys on hot summer evenings, and setting off M80's in people's mailboxes (oops, did I just confess that? Sorry, Mrs. George.)
Or the 4th of July, where sparklers were real and dangerous and on a metal stick. Since you were always standing around barefoot, it was a prerequisite that you stepped on one of those red hot, poker-like sticks while you're mother was screaming, "Don't poke your eye out!" Turned out my eyes remained in their sockets, but excuse me, Mom, my feet are burned and why year after year did you allow me out barefoot?
What about summer road trips where you're stuck in the back of the car with your brother (who in that close environment has suddenly turned into the most obnoxious creature on the planet), screaming "Are we there yet?" "I'm hungry!" and "I have to go to the bathroom!"
Nope, that's all been traded in for World History and "getting ahead." After all, getting into a good college isn't just about grades anymore.
So why are we all in such a hurry? It's not just the kids. I have a joke that there's real time and "Keen time." Real time is letting things unfold in a healthy manner over a period of months, and "Keen time" is, well, yesterday.
An example is:
Caller: "When am I going to be in a serious relationship?"
Me: "I see you meeting someone very early next year that has a shot at being a very serious relationship for you."
Caller: (Whiny voice) "Next year!!! I have to wait until next year? I can't wait another six months till next year!"
We want it today -- no, we want it yesterday. And then when we have it, when are they going to call, have sex, tell me they love me, propose, get married, have kids. We want it all NOW!
But then once we have achieved all that, we want to know why our marriage is so dull and we're thinking about that guy we went to high school with, when are the kids we were so anxious to have going to be out of diapers, or off to school, or leaving home?
So really, what ARE we doing? Why are we all in such a hurry to grow up, get the job, spouse, house, kids, and then in a hurry to wish them all away so we can have more freedom with the kids grown, and the house paid off, and retirement?
It's beginning to sound like the rumor is true, life's a bitch and then you die.
Why don't we all just slow down a bit and instead of being in a hurry for the future, we enjoy today? Enjoy making ourselves happy while we wait for the dude, savor the delicious anticipation of the first kiss instead of trying to manipulate it faster. Treasure our children and keep them close. Believe in Santa again.
As for me, I think I'm going to try to slow my fast track daughter down. Fourth of July is next week. I'm going to take her shoes off and light a sparkler. They're made of wood now, but maybe she can walk on the wild side and get a splinter or something.
Remember, I'm a reality show junkie, and since Katie's a dancer, we're loving So You Think You Can Dance. Whenever that shows comes on, I dance around the room saying, "I don't just think I can dance, I KNOW I can dance!"
Did you know that my daugher is so talented that she can sigh, roll her eyes at me and flip her hair all at the same time?
As far as being psychic, the same thing applies, don't just think it, know it! We're all psychic, to some degree. But I do run into an interesting phenomenon through this job, which is, whenever anybody finds out what I do, the answer is usually, "OH MY GAWD, SO AM I!"
So say you go through your education, get your doctorate in marine biology, and you're at a party and say, "Hello, I'm Dr. Dude, and I'm a marine biologist," only to be met with, "OH MY GAWD! SO AM I!" because the person once visited Sea World and petted the dolphins.
Yes, it is a God-given gift, but in order to do this job, it takes a lot of development and a lot of dedication. Many of us have studied and been honing our craft since we were children and discovered that we had some extra abilities.
So just because you saw a banana peel on the ground and thought, "I hope I don't slip," and then you did, don't be so anxious to take over for me on my day off.
That being said, I would tell anyone, trust your gut. Everybody has had the precognitive dream or experience, and everybody can read energy.
Even the nonbeliever will say, "The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife," or "I walked into that room and I just knew they were talking about me." It's palpable energy, yet it's unexplainable.
This is why I and other readers will tell you, "Don't sit around at home waiting for 'the call.'" No, we're not necessarily saying he'll never call or you'll never have a chance. But what kind of energy do you think will hit him if you've been doing nothing but thinking of him for weeks or months? We're telling you to keep the energy flowing.
So okay, we're all psychic and should trust our gut. So why should we ever call a psychic and why do they pick up different things than we do?
Simply because a psychic is looking at the entire situation dispassionately, the big picture, without letting fear, logic or the second-guessing enter into the picture. We basically put ourselves to the back and let the messages come forward, as odd or strange as they may be.
Sad part is, we can't always do it for ourselves. Although we all do pick up things on ourselves and loved ones -- an example being I was walking through a mall one evening and knew that someone had just passed that moment -- but, just like everyone else, fear or logic or second-guessing our feelings can come into play.
So I tend to say I can't punch my way out of a paper bag when it comes to me and I will call other readers on issues that might be emotional.
So are you interested in developing your psychic abilities or even becoming a reader on Keen? There's a lot more to it than meets the eye, all three of them!
Remember, we have lives. We're not sitting around all day in front of candles in meditation. We might be up on a ladder changing a light bulb, scrubbing the shower, or as ALWAYS happens, just sitting down and taking a bite of the delicious lunch we just made when the phone rings.
We go instantly from whatever we were doing to totally focused in on our caller. Believe me, it's a trained skill, learning to turn it on in a nanosecond.
Then there's the turning it off. Imagine if you couldn't turn it off and walking into Walmart? All those people, all those problems, all those unattended children zooming around the store that seemingly don't belong to anybody? Yikes! Turn it off, baby! Again, a learned skill.
Still interested? My initial recommendation is always to begin with meditation. Light a candle, get a pad and paper in case messages should come through you want to write down, and sit in a comfortable spot where you won't fall asleep. Get to know yourself and your guides first and foremost.
Need help with it? Give me a call and I'll be happy to help you develop more. I promise I won't roll my eyes or flip my hair at you.
And be sure to let me know when you're ready to take over for me. I could use some time off.