Searching for God.

I watched as did so many while Oprah interviewed Whitney Huston and also her segment on Michael Jackson. I am writing about it because I saw a similarity between Michael and Whitney, which showed the result of excessive abuse from the outside turned within. Whitney was asked something about her relationship with Bobby Brown and before she responded to the question she said "He's going to be mad at me for saying this". Michael when asked if his father abused him said, "Oh, he's going to be mad at me for saying this, don't be mad at me, Joseph".

Whitney was showing the fear that abused wives emit. She was protecting herself with the statement and protecting him with an apology. Michael showed how he was not in any way a normal man. He was superhuman in his abilities and yet he was not human in his experience in this life. Michael was used from he was little (something many of us know), as a robot. I don't think that anyone took the time to make sure that his world was reasonable. Michael was like the guinea pig that the scientists used "for the betterment of mankind". Neither the fans who received this gifts, nor the media that made incredible profits off him, nor his family took the time to hug Michael, truly hug him. People cried at his death. They mourned. They said many things, some uplifting most depressing. But did they feel for him? Would they protect his children by not reading what the gossip columnists say as a way of showing their love for Michael?

I understand the beatings that Michael experienced at the hands of his father. I went through the same thing with a sadistic grandfather who disregarded the power of his strength as he put all his weight into making me feel the leather belt he used. I understand. Feeling trapped, because "Where could he go?" "Who would listen to a little kid?" The church certainly would not help, it's leaders are benefiting from the result of the forced labour upon the child. This was the child who became a man. A man who had no trust of people and used his gifts to buy his way into some semblance of peace and freedom.

Michael reminds me of the character Valentine Michael Smith, in Robert Heinlein's book Stranger In A Strange Land. The character Michael Smith was born on Mars to human parents who die leaving him alone, where he was raised by the Martians. He was discovered and brought back to earth where he had to learn about being human. In the end Michael Smith was killed when people started to fear that he was getting too much like Christ. Despite the fact that Michael finally "groked humans" got what it meant to be human, or so he thought, he could not move them to be kinder, more loving or more giving.

"What if God was one of us?"
What if Michael Jackson was a test for us? What if Whitney Huston is a test for us like so many misunderstood, incredibly gifted people that we put up on pedestals. What if Johnny Depp has so much more to share with us but he is forced to keep this to himself because he is being hounded by us. For the little bit of the sweetness of watching our icons squirm under the blinding light of our scrutiny could we be missing the bigger picture? Go back and listen to the words of the songs that Michal Jackson sang. Hear the words of love that Whitney Huston sang about.

I do believe that everything that we do for better or for worse we are doing because we are trying to find God - whatever that may look like for us. May we take a little extra time to truly walk in the shoes of the ones whom we judge.

This old house.

I love old houses. They have history, usually they are unique, sometimes unusual. One of my goals is to renovate an old home. I love to watch home renovation shows as the contractor attempts to reconstruct the older home. Most of the time the older home is a trap of creaky floors, rotting floorboards, out of date insulation and lots of other frightening problems. Some problems are caused by time, age and environment, some are because a previous owner or two have done work that today would cause the house unlivable based on our present building standard.

Well, turning 50 feels like that. I remember when I was younger, filled with piss and vinegar, I would get up, prepare my children for school (bath, getting dressed, breakfast, plus the equal pain of dressing their hair), then up the killer hill taking them to school. Returning home I showered, got dressed and ran to work which began before I left the house and of course - no breakfast. I owned a fashion design business at the time. I worked past lunch again without indulging in eating. I ran to school to do my volunteer stint, then back to work, sometimes leaving my client standing in the dress we are fitting, I would rush to school again, picked up my girls taking them back to work with me so I could complete the project I was working on. I feel tired just going over my days then and that was just to four o'clock.

What I am getting at is, a few years back, I was hit from behind twice in six month which threw my body out of whack which is still in the healing process. During this time my doctor asked me "How old are you again?" I told her. "Well, you know you are getting on, the body does go down as you get older." I felt quite indignant. I am not getting old! I am aware of my age but I tell you, I feel like an older home. Majestic to look at. I am no Halle Berrie, but I think I am pretty O.K. and beauty is only in the mind, right? But, these days, I am feeling like an old home that has been opened up to reveal stiff joints, sore muscles, digestive quibbles, near sightedness and far sightedness, and the list goes on. I am sure that the stresses that I invited into my life or did I stumble into stress and it stucked to me like dried clay? - the under maintainance of poor diet are showing up in the digestive squabbles and physical angst.

Now where do I go from here? There is no moral to this story just that my mind and time are in a race to see which will wear the other down first. I am looking forward to staring at time and with a loud AHA, stand perfect, beautifully renovated, still the same old broad, just grander perfectly preserved without surgery, botox or any of the modern rip out and replace renos of our beauty world. Now I am fascinated to see how this will play out.

Step onto the edge.

Today begins for me persistent audaciousness, wise decision making, luscious living and incredible light that flows into every nook and cranny of my life. Join me in this evolutionary outlook on your life.

I am 50. I was excited to reach 30, because I thought I would create the life I wanted. I did but it fell away as quickly as the tide retreating from the beach in its rush to return to the ocean. Then forty came and I thought, I'd finely got things figured out. Turned out I still had some reservations and fears I had not uncovered during my thirties. As I resolved these unconscious hindrances, I blindsided myself (not seeing the forest for the trees) and made decisions that have dogged me to today. My deepest fear was made manifest and now that I have seen it, I no longer have to spend my time in that place anymore. So at fifty, all bets are off. I have no regrets about the past. It was a gas as I weaved my way through the piles of discarded unconscious rubble, (I was not this generous while I was in it) however hindsight is always much more generous with the past.

Hello love,

Welcome to my new blog. Join me here for my thoughts and views on life, the planet and things of importance. Feel free to share your thoughts and ask questions and I'll do my best to cover them as we go along.

I'll be updating shortly so check back soon. I look forward to sharing with you.

Sonia