The Smokey Seduction

“Giving up smoking is the easiest thing in the world. I know because I've done it thousands of times.”

― Mark Twain


I'm at that crossroads again, the same intersection that Mark Twain must have encountered if we are to believe his statement. It's a familiar and lonely place where Temptation hangs out on one corner, looking slick and sexy, always ready with an easy lie. Temptation in the personified image that exists in my mind, is always smoking.
On another corner of the crossroad is a mirror. It's not an ordinary mirror, but rather like a carnival mirror; one that is subject to distortion depending on the angle of the viewer.
Smoking becomes a part of one's self image over the years. If you're like me you have a variety of self images, like the reflections in tricky mirror there are times when one or another dominates the view.
When I visualize myself in most situations I see a person who is smoker, but it hasn't always been this way. There have been times I went for years without smoking and gradually that part of my self concept faded. I was able to imagine myself in any situation without smoking, and eventually the thought rarely even entered my mind. I had, at certain points in my life, shed the identity of a smoker. And yet, somehow when I least expected it the image would resurface. The thought of holding a cigarette in a certain way, a punctuation mark of non-verbal communication. An image of exhaling smoke thoughtfully as if expelling a repressed secret.
Maybe it was the effect of all the movies I'd watched during my formative years glued to the television mentally absorbing lessons in subtlety of the adult dance of the unspoken message. In those old movies, the black and whites, people smoked constantly and the way they smoked held clues to the character and the motivation of the person on screen.
Smoking could be sexy and seductive, or brash and sassy. Sometimes it was devious, sinister and calculating. Or it can be rude and aggressive. And a cigarette can be the perfect accompaniment to despair especially in a duet with a tumbler of whiskey. Serenading misery and heartbreak on the silver screen, the dance of the seven veils as performed by a twisting wisp of smoke accompanied by the jingle jangle of crisp ice tapping the walls of a crystal glass. No finer burlesque for the anguish of a broken heart.
All  are faded clips of the story of my life, the drama, the comedy the romance, the rebel Without a Cause and the Detective with a Vengeance  The Sultry Seductress and the Sassy Schoolgirl. Even the Cruel and Manipulative Anti-Heroine. They are all in there, cigarette in hand, inhaling deeply as if challenging the oxygen to a game of Russian roulette.
© 2010-2012 Nanakoosa’s Place, authored by Jennifer Hazard

I Became a "Dog Person" and Learned to Love the Pack

Now autumn eases into middle age, after a minor mid-life crisis flaunting around some balmy weather reminiscent of youthful spring. Nightfall comes early and the evenings are cozy indoors. The sofa is piled with blankets and my four legged roommates are more cuddly than they have been in a while. All during summer they preferred the cool wood floors sprawled out like bear rugs you see in movies.
When the time comes for the evening walk it already feels well past bedtime and it's no small feat to convince myself to put on the coat, boots, gloves and everything else I wrap up in to protect my arthritic joints from the chilly air.
But tonight as we stepped out into the cold and darkness there was something new- snow! Not a full on snowfall, but just a few swirling flakes highlighted by the streetlamps as they swirled and danced like little impish ballerinas. The dogs were straining against their harnesses, lunging forward as if driven by instinct to run. The bigger dog, Misty, is half Siberian Husky and quite at home in a snowfall. I wonder if there is a calling within her to run, to pull a sled as is her duty bound by centuries of breeding, something she can't quite understand and yet can't escape.
Funny though how pack behavior trumps breeding as her sidekick, Bear, mimics her stride. Funny because Bear is about the furthest thing from a Husky one could imagine. He's what my Mom would call a 'mop dog', one of those small mixed breed, shaggy haired, adorably awkward, misfit kind of dogs.
Now that my kids are grown I have become one of those women I used to chuckle about who fills her empty nest with pets. I talk to them, rearrange my schedule around theirs, take them with me nearly everywhere I go and yes, I even dress them up on occasion. They are my family, my buddies, my pack. In the rare occasions I ever visualized a future self through the eyes of youth, I didn't imagine that once my children were grown I would fill the time and space of my home with dogs. I was really more of a 'cat person' and my visions of future self usually involved travel, a place somewhere higher up on the career ladder and limitless personal freedom. Dogs limit one's freedom in a way that cats don't. They need babysitters. They need walks and playtime. They need to be watched so they don't eat things that are disgusting or potentially lethal. They require a certain amount of consistency and commitment which are not characteristics that come easily to me. Maybe that's why they are good for me. They hold me accountable for a certain amount of routine, exercise and responsibility. They remind me that I am needed. And when the daily news and the worlds problems whisper messages of despair and defeat in my ear they remind me of the raw simplicity of  Nature. They remind me that there are beings in the world that are eternally innocent, fiercely devoted and who are driven by voiceless call to something far more powerful and magical than anything I can find to fret about. They are a link to the natural world in an urban lifestyle. They keep me grounded when my mind threatens to carry me away from the here and now. They force me outdoors when I would otherwise surrender to laziness and apathy.
So although I never would have pictured myself with two dogs suddenly I can't picture myself without them, not the first time I've been surprised by a change of heart but one of the more pleasant chapters in the story of finding my way to Me.

As an end note I'd like to add that both of my dogs are rescue dogs. One was found at a shelter, awaiting euthanasia the other was intercepted before she made it to shelter. I take every opportunity I can to encourage potential dog owners to educate themselves about the daily care and training of dogs before deciding to bring one into your home. They do require attention, consistency and daily maintenance ( including picking up poop!) Different breeds have different needs and temperaments and it's best to do a little research to see which will best fit your lifestyle and personality. (I am partial to mutts myself)
If you do decide to bring a dog into your family please, please, please adopt! There are so many animals in shelters or foster homes who need permanent homes. Purebreds are appealing in many ways and there are caring ethical breeders out there but why bring more dogs into the world simply for profit when so many animals are left to die? Contrary to some opinions that there must be something 'wrong' with an animal that caused it to end up in a shelter, it is most often human error or misfortune that landed them there.
I have found Petfinder, http://www.petfinder.com, to be a good clearinghouse of information, including on training and care of animals, breed characteristics, health care/concerns and resources for adoption.
Peace and Happy Tails (sorry I couldn't resist!)

© 2010-2012 Nanakoosa’s Place, authored by Jennifer Hazard

Epiphany Me-More on Spiritual Awakenning

In the process of personal growth or development or even 'getting well' many of us have looked beyond traditional religions for guidance. Last time I shared my thoughts on the spiritual climate of our times I tossed around some of the pros and cons, as I see them, of the larger group of seekers collectively referred to as New Age (although many do reject the term) Much of what is labeled New Age Spirituality is blend of psychological techniques and a patchwork of spiritual practices, often those that are borrowed from a non-white culture but adapted to fit western culture. These combinations of practice and wisdom can, in many cases, provide fertile earth for true enlightenment. The messages and teachings in their westernized formula often to overlook one crucial detail, that is that within our culture there exists myriad sub-cultures whose lives don't fit the tidy portrait of the American Ideal.

Historically, our American culture of Pragmatic Pull-Yourself-Up-By-Your-Bootstraps has done little to encourage self exploration and understanding, much less self forgiveness. The offering of spiritual comfort within our culture has consisted of organized religions with relatively simple solutions. These answers emanated from an external source which was translated by a usually male representative. It is only relatively recently that individuals have been encouraged to seek within to find answers to deep philosophical and spiritual questions. Women in recovery and on the path to healing are often shrouded in years of guilt over the mistakes we've made. If we reach out to an alternative source of spiritual guidance we need a welcoming hand that understands the role that feelings like Guilt and Shame have played in our perception of redemption. We can be told over and over that we deserve happiness, love or prosperity, but until we forgive ourselves that tiny voice inside will continue to whisper that maybe we don't.

The journey to understand ones self is different for each seeker and the path one follows is not linear but rather tends to cycle back on itself as we revisit old issues within the context of a different terrain and strengthened by new skills and understanding. Many of life's problems don't disappear we just learn how to navigate the territory in a way that is more adaptive and safe than in previous attempts.

As a counselor I always felt that my work was more an art than a science although certainly a mix of the two. The same applies to the path of the spiritual seeker. We evolve safely by respecting our own timing and unique quirks. It hardly seems possible to find comfort with one's place in the Universe if we haven't even become comfortable in our own bodies. It can be cruel to ask of someone to part with their Ego when we have only just barely begun to know her. Those of us who surrendered our Selves to a drug, a relationship or any lifestyle that restrained our true expression of self, are fully aware that the journey back to the self is a long road. We also know the path some frightening twists and turns and that the temptation to avoid raw, authentic self discovery is as seductive as it always had been.

Probably the most potentially frightening bend in the road is that we will actually like ourselves. And once we like someone we expect nothing but the best for them so that's a pretty scary notion.

On a more mundane level the same could be said for letting go of our ideas about prosperity...welcoming prosperity in our lives. Are you freaking kidding me? Do you know what kind of a relationship most of us have had with money in the past? We have spent our rent money on other things than rent, risking (and sometimes falling into) homelessness. Chances are good we've been stolen from, taken advantage of, had our belongings broken by an angry or jealous partner, we've had to sell personal belongings to pay the rent (or worse). Money hasn't exactly been associated with consistency or comfort. Along with liking ourselves, now we are expected to accept the frightening prospect of admitting we deserve something nice, or that it will last.

Last week I wrote a mini blog called "Redefining Prosperity" This was a sort of self imposed homework assignment. I have decided that prosperity and abundance are not bad words, it was my definition and perception of the words that was twisted.

My perception is always developing, hopefully toward a place that is more clear, forgiving and comfortable with Me. For me that is the Big Spiritual Awakening.




"And you who seek to know Me, know that the seeking and yearning will avail you not, unless you know the Mystery: for if that which you seek, you find not within yourself, you will never find it without."~from The Charge of The Goddess, by Doreen Valiente
Retrieved from Internet Book of Shadows, (Various Authors), [1999], at sacred-texts.com

© 2010-2012 Nanakoosa’s Place, authored by Jennifer Hazard

Defining Prosperity

Prosperity is not a bad word. Nor is it what we are told to believe it is, regardless of our ethical or moral beliefs about prosperity.
Prosperity can be a thriving environment, a healthy physical body, a clear mind. It can be the wealth of friendships, loved ones, family, pets. Prosperity can be good food and nutrition, access to a lifestyle that maintains a healthy mind and body. A prosperous lifestyle heals the earth, nurtures relationships and practices respect for living beings. Prosperity can be the joy that is born of the company of another. Prosperity is the sense of satisfaction and pride in knowing you have contributed something to the well being of the planet or another person.
Prosperity is Joy, and it is Love and Respect and Well Being.
It is not a plastic card, or a green piece of paper or a material item that was purchased in order to boost one's status. It is not external thing that will fill a void, but rahter it is the courage to look within the void and to find your own Truth beyond the darkness.
© 2010-2012 Nanakoosa’s Place, authored by Jennifer Hazard

Awareness Months?

Domestic Violence awareness month shares it's month with Breast Cancer and Disability awareness. Naturally for Domestic Violence, it has to fight to be heard.
Nothing against Breast Cancer Awareness mind you, but do you find it interesting as I do, that the most popular cancer, much like the most popular girl in school, is associated with that All American favorite: breasts?
And isn't it natural in the high school pecking order of things that seems to endure throughout our lifetimes, that Disability rights is probably the least observed awareness topic in the already overcrowded month?
Aside from February which is relegated to Black History Month and April which is Sexual Assault and Child Abuse prevention month (another shared month) there are 8 additional months in which to ask that people "be aware" of a disturbing and/or tragic social problem.
I know that here are other less well known awareness campaigns out there. In fact Hepatitis C may, depending upon who you ask, have 2 months of its own. One of them might be November  and the other might be May. But who really knows? I am a Hepatitis survivor and I'm not even sure.
Who gets to decide these things anyway? Did December come awfully close to becoming Jesus awareness month? Or would they have chosen April instead, choosing sacrificial death as commercially preferential to virgin birth?
I don't suppose one could convince football players to wear black and blue gloves in honor of domestic violence awareness. Or to roll out on the field in wheelchairs to promote sensitivity to individuals with disabilities.
Just sayin'
© 2010-2012 Nanakoosa’s Place, authored by Jennifer Hazard