November 19, 2008

Jimi, Mom, is out of town for a week or two; I don't know exactly; she wants to come home the day after T-Day, because Veronica washes her hair on Saturday morning. "Mom, Sabrina can wash your hair, I can wash your hair, ANYONE can wash your hair." "Oh,". Too many names?

I am using this as my daily diary; and that's okay. I don't know why exactly, but it seems like the place to be. I said this before, but, I live in this wonderful purple room and I need to be connected to the world. I 've been- I moved home when I was 40. 40 was 19 years ago. Time does fly, go faster, just like my Nana told me, she died at 101. "the 70's were fantastic, the 80's were great, and the 90's stink", were some of her last words to me.

She wanted me to take her home, when I visited her in that assisted living facility in Oregon. But there was no home, no trailer left to take her home to, and I lived in Florida at that point. I would lay next to her, and talk into her one good ear and sing to her, and she would recite the Gettysburg Address to me; she'd been a school teacher. In the end, she slept mostly, except when they woke her to eat or shower/bathe. She swore like a sailor and spoke Russian, they told us; neither of which I had ever heard her do in her life.

Mom, my little mommy. I just have to remember she's still 11. Yes, we do become our parents parent in the end, but, this has been true with me and Jimi for way longer. and, I'm finally hip to it- thank you, Diana, my therapist. I'm in therapy- yes, I've done this before, but have never needed it as I do now, or wanted it as I do now; it's now, that I need to understand and get through this thing called 'Olga's life'.

This rage toward Mom. It's just too much. and I do meditate daily, religiously without a religion; through my Guru's Grace, which is God's grace, which flows freely through us all. Period. end of sermon.

I know when I haven't meditated deeply or longly enough; I start to notice the sound of the bells on her houseslippers hurt my ears.

When the noise of her practicing piano is noise and not practice, I need to go sit in my meditation corner and close my eyes, again, even for a few minutes. To come back, new. Come back, with patience, come back with humor, with even love sometimes. That is the Guru's grace.

I remember the day I heard this voice from within tell me something; I'd been sober a couple years, or a few, I dont' know. I had changed my diet, I was eating brown rice and miso soup; I was feeling this Presence which I did not know what It was. And then, as I crossed Columbis Avenue at 69th Street; my street; from within said "to feel and to see are the same". Knock me over within myself. I felt something, and now I am told, I didn't have to see IT actually, both were equal. I felt, ah, thank you, whomever YOU ARE.

and in the Spring of 1981 I did somehing I hadn't done since I was 18. I got on my knees and asked to be shown where You are, whatever You are. I had no attraction or faith in religious concepts. I had no joy toward the word God. But I was trying to meditate and I would sit for 15 seconds and feel I had sat for 30 hours. and this Voice that had spoken to me, kept pulling on my soul from all directions and I knew Something existed outside myself that was indeed very close to me.

6 months later I walked into the Siddha Yoga Ashram on 86th street and saw the photo of Baba Muktananda on the back wall of the basement lobby. I looked at his smile; and saw the most natural real smile I had ever seen. And for me, an actress who'd had her headshot retaken yearly, to see such a smile, relaly wowed me. But, I know it was more than a real smile. It was a genuine connection to God that I felt at that moment. and as I stood in that basement lobby I began to feel giddy, and I smiled and felt a joy. I felt totally at home. and I signed up for the next Meditation Intensive, which the girl behind the desk told me about.

The next weekend I spent two days with Swami Muktananda with Gurumayi as his Interpretor. I experienced something called Love. Divine Love within my being, I felt love for this human Baba who walked like an Emperor. I experienced my heart cracking open and I heard Baba speak about my most innermost quest "Know yourself". My secret wish for years; my only wish. He knew what I wanted to know and he seemed to be the one to answer my question.

He did.

Now it's 2008. I have his picture, that same picture on the front of his book Play of Consciousness, I play harmonium at our chanting and meditation satsangs and I get to look at Gurumayi's face daily, in the pictures throughout my life. Why do I look at her face often? Because she is One with God. she has crossed the ocean of worldliness and lives in Bliss and awakens this state in others. Because it's a good choice for my soul.

I always think I have nothing to say to myself and then, something happens. The bancha tea awakens me and I remember.

So, in therapy we are finding out what my life was - because I do not remember growing up or living with others and it's time to. and I feel safe enough to. And I know it's all okay today to know where I've been without judging harshly.

It's the first evening without Jimi at home; she's just on vacation. WE drove to the Tampa Bay Airport this a.m. I came home, took ISabella, our deaf frenchie to the dog park in Ft. De Soto; and came home and crashed, literally in front of the t.v. set. I sat there and watched two shows on two channels simulttaneously and neither were Fox News. I've watched Fox News since coming to Florida with my folks. Now I've seen both sides.

I still don't really know what's gong on. I only know that I voted for Obama. Tag, they're it.

I don't want to tell you, or anyone, how long it took me to find "new Post" at the top of the site, if that's the right word...I'm ill equipped to describe what I do at my computer, but let me say I am always ...well, not always, always is too big of a committment - glad I even have one.

A computer, that is.

Nattering Chatter inspired me to do this blog thing and I always feel like I'm a part of the world or that the world is a part of my being - when I log in and add something about my life. I am amazed that I am even doing this. I try to write in a journal by hand daily; the daily morning pages, but they turn into this blog lately...well, so?

I finished my "so you want to be a medium' class; along with a few others and on that last session, I did have an amazing experience. and I got the message from Spirit, that I have a spirit guide who wants to help me write. Contact must be made. okay, I say.

I thought immediatley, it's a male guide. But, as I was meditating yesterday, I or someone reminded me of Saraswati, the Goddess of the arts, the intellect, the creative ventures- the books, music, etc. I shall have a place for her in my purple room, too.

Actually, I know this isn't 'writing', it's not finsihed, polished, correct, and nontheless, my fingers and my heart connect and show up again.

My greatest enemy is chocolate lately; and maybe not chocolate, but, something in chocolate. I am a minor epileptic - not age wise, but in severity of the seizures, which I have not had for -about the last 10 years...and before that, only when I had sugar, caffeine, stress over the top. I got off the Tegratol that I was prescribed at age 24 or so, and took for a short time- maybe 5 years. I got off it after I didn't drink or smoke - changed my diet through the study of macrobiotics, and then, I was able to get off the medication without seizures occuring. Years later, I started doing a headstand, and a shoulder stand daily; and was told that shoulder stand was good for epilepsy. Wonder of wonders, these siezures have stayed away, despite getting into caffeine and sugar occasionally.

So, for me, the siezures helped me stay away from foods that I get addicted to and take me 'down'- I last about 3 weeks eating or digesting caffeine and then, something breaks in me; this time, it was my lower back. a new manifestation of 'STOP'.

I got into caffiene and a new healthy chocolate which I knew wouldn't be my thing but I did...I DID. Again I fell for the 'wonder' drug syndrome; ah, this will fix me, this will change my life, this will..............screw me up sooner or later and thank GOD, it comes as soon as it does.

I took an Advil today; and that's not something I do. I got acupuncture yesterday, I've been working with my kinisiologist and another chiro I love- and the pain persists and increases, BUT, I'm off the substances I do not handle; I am allergic to...and for that, my MIND is clearer...

my THINKING is what can be clouded and take me somewhere I KNOW I cannot go, but I went again.

And I feel better being 'back' - I can feel ME; but, I admit, the high from the things I have to avoid, give me a social jolt forward into the limelight of being social beyond my character; of smiling more, of smiling in the face of not wanting to- just happy for no reason on caffeine- and supposedly social and coping socially. I am a social misfit, but, so is everyone.

Let me accept myself, let me surrender myself, let me chant and meditate and be KIND without the drugs.

I say I am a work in progress and it's true, and it's okay today.

Oh, 'new post' - that's how I add something onto this BLOG...hmmm, found the key...okay, Jimi got home, got to the store, got to shop, I know she bought rings for people, which she lied to me about- well, it's a 'cover up' kind of Xmas lie- "No, I took them back, I didn't want them, I changed my mind," sheepishly Jimi replied to my, Olga's comment - "You bought some rings?" The lady working the shop told me, when she also told me, that yes, Jimi had gotten there, and had left ten minutes ago.

It was a long daya for Mom, Jimi....

I called my dear brother out West whose daughter of 19 screamed 'I hate you" at last week; so, we exchanged prayers for one another's children...keep each in our thoughts of YES.

yes, someone, their own God, is watching over them; and as he said, God takes care of drunks, children....the united states? And, of coruse, this is all very hard to 'get'...does one ever 'get' that God indeed hasn't forgotten anyone even the sorely abused? Is it only for those who 'believe' that He does this work of angelhood? Doesn't it happen without our having belief? I should hope so.

Still when I drank I lost any sight of someone watching over me and it was then that He watched the most; or She, and She and He. As I walked in the snow up Park Avenue in NYC, yelling at cars.

And all the other times.

Jimi took off today for Sarasota; well, I was going to drive and take her, though she can still drive; because, this is a long distance trip...and well, now, it'll be an adventure. Jimi is great physically and mentally, she has trouble with words, pictures, and ideas connecting up with speech. I don't like the word dimentia so I don't use it. I dont' exist in denial, I just don't chose to use that word here. And I have these cold sores and I'm tired. That's why I'm home and she's on the road alone...kaivalya.

She left about a half hour ago, by herself...with directions, with the name of the store she's headed to and snacks consisting of mini chocolates from Halloween and a bottle of bottled H20. She couldn't find her cell phone to take along.

"Can I take Isabella with?" Jimi asked and chuckled. "Mom," said Olga, that's me. " I know, I know she can't help me", answered Jimi.

"What about Darshan?" Jimi pondered. "Well," said Olga, that's me, "Sure, he'd love to take a car ride south to Sarasota, he loves riding in cars...or getting in them, not sure he actually likes to drive in them."

Jimi left without any fur.

So, it's quiet and the time of life that's most quiet is when Darshan is asleep, and Isabella, also, is knocked out...to love animals so deeply and to love them most when they're asleep says something, but what? I need more time alone? Oh, yes, that's true. There's a sanskrit word, kaivalya..it means 'alone with God'. That's what I always need and have, right now, while Jimi's on the road to ...275 south.