Going All New Agey

A few months ago, Melly went to some big yoga hippy thing in the desert for two weeks. It was super secluded and the only news that filtered her way was that of Michael Jackson's death. While there, she heard of some kind of healing called Sat Nam Rasayan, and had a session with some dude named Guru Dev, who is like, the Sat Nam Rasayan master of the world. It's a very subtle process, and it sounded kind of cool.

Maybe two weeks ago, Hargopal Khalsa, a trainee (disciple?) of Guru Dev was in the area, offering sessions. Though interested, it was a kid weekend for me, and also, it costs dollars to do such things. Melly attended both a workshop and private session with the chick. It still sounded awesome. I learned remote healing sessions are possible too, so I decided to look into the process in general.

Sat Nam Rasayan is defined as:
learning how to bring oneself into a state of heightened awareness and neutrality while holding an intention to heal. The theory is that some diseases evolve from inner tendencies, but by using exercises that take one into a "sensitive space," one can help oneself and others towards a path to healing.

Sat Nam Rasayan has five dogmas,
* Regarding any event, all you know is what you feel;
* You do not experience an event, you feel your sensations in relation with it;
* Everything which appears in the relations is included in the relation;
* Any intention you put into the relation will effect the relation in some way.
* There is no dogma.

This, in its own way, makes complete sense to me. Supposedly, the times of the full and new moon are the best, because that is when the psyche is most receptive to healing awareness. I know, it's terribly crunchy and whatnot Again, it just makes sense...so I scheduled a remote session with Hargopal.

She asked if I wanted to talk to her about myself and/or anything that has been going on with me, or if I preferred to just let her meditate and see what came up. I chose that one. She said the session takes maybe 30 minutes, and she would do it at 3pm her time, 6pm mine, and I could call her after for her input. Again, I gave her no background. Even though it sounded and felt right, I still have a little skeptic in me, and I wanted him to have plenty of space to kick.

When I called her after the session, she told me what came up for her. The primary thing she felt washing over her was this idea of intense, extreme frustration. She intuited that I am a person who is surrounded by frustration, and I feel like I can't get out from under it. Likewise, she had the sense that I am looking at the world through a lens of betrayal. Hargopal pointed out that in life, we experience so many variant things, yet, in spite of that, she felt like I held on to this one particular lens, and was terribly afraid to see the world any other way. She said that though I may have been betrayed in a terrible manner, it didn't mean everyone, or even anyone else, was going to do the same thing. She also sensed a strong need to stand on my own two feet, and frustration that I wasn't doing it yet.

I got a little teary.

She continued, noting that under all the frustration, and that strong sense of betrayal, I am teeming with creativity. She suggested that using my creativity is the key to working through and out of the situation I am currently in. Apparently, I am filled to the brim with untapped creative potential, it's just locked in there under the frustration. Oh, yes, that did resonate. She also mentioned that it is incredibly important for me to keep moving, to avoid allowing all of this stuff to stagnate. She then suggested a meditation, and said she hoped I'd wake up the next morning with a smile on my face. I laughed, noting that would be a great start. Then I gave her the five sentence version of this blog, and suddenly, everything she sensed made sense to her, too.

That night, as I tucked the boys in, Ro and I did our current meditation to the point of hysterical giggles. P-kid and Gav both sat nearby, but mostly didn't participate, and when the laughing began, they couldn't stop making fun of us. Ro and I didn't care. I felt giddy, he acted giddy, and it was like we couldn't stop passing it back and forth.

The next morning, I did wake up smiling, too. All my wee Sherifflings were curled around me in various places, and as I stirred, I just felt so overwhelmingly full of love, and gratitude for that big love. Then, I recalled Hargopal's words, realized what she suggested happening, and my smile grew larger. It was really kind of cool.

I emailed her the next day with random thoughts the process stirred up in my mind grapes. She responded with more kind words, a meditation, and also, cut her fee, because of my financial woes. A few days later, she sent me this:

Maybe (Taoist story)

There is a Taoist story of an old farmer who had worked his crops for
many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his
neighbors came to visit. "Such bad luck," they said sympathetically.

"Maybe," the farmer replied. The next morning the horse returned,
bringing with it three other wild horses. "How wonderful," the
neighbors exclaimed.

"Maybe," replied the old man. The following day, his son tried to ride
one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The
neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune.
"Maybe," answered the farmer. The day after, military officials came
to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son's
leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the
farmer on how well things had turned out. "Maybe," said the farmer.


Maybe, indeed.

At Grabby's House

P-kid confronted Grabby the other day. That kid, he has some boldness in him.

As probably noted, Ro secretly snuck P-kid's new DS game to Crazytown. Greg just won't give it back, for reasons I can't fathom. Likewise, though this may sound surprising, he lacks the decency to simply buy a new game or otherwise repay P-kid to make things right. I mean, P-kid even sent a text to Greg on his own, letting him know, you have my game, I want it back. Mr. Awesome dad himself did the last 2 years' usual when it comes to the child he took on as his own---ignored the kid completely.

I texted Greg last Tuesday, reminding him of items to send home for the children. As he can't seem to remember when it's in the log, I was thinking, well, maybe if it's right there the day before the kids come back, he'll notice. When he then fails to return anything, I have a difficult time finding it to be anything other than deliberate, because, if between two adults they can't manage a simple return of items on a list, they probably are not competent enough to be caring for these kiddos in the first place. Predictably, the children's items from my house didn't make it back. Aside from P-kid's game, Gav was returned without his crocs, which, if you knew the kid, you'd realize that's a major huge ass no no.

I texted Wednesday, alerting Mr. Sheriff that I'd simply bring Gav to the house to pick up the shoes if they weren't at daycare waiting Thursday afternoon. Well. I dropped off the baby at the center, and most randomly, Greg HAD brought something to the daycare to return to me. An envelope with my name on it....including only Gav's classroom calendar. Not exactly vital, and, seeing as he keeps say, every other piece of paper he gets from the class, a little weird. Again, no shoes. No games. Just...this paper?

Thursday I got home to find a text from Greg waiting as well, simply telling me "Do not come 2 my house." This was actually the exact same message he'd sent Wednesday. At that time, I was all, ok, dude, I'd rather not. However, if you keep the stuff the kids need, I'll let them go to their own home to pick it up. This really isn't rocket science, but, I guess he wishes it was?

Gav cried and threw another fit about the missing shoes, so I offered to take him to pick them up. Kid was glad. Likewise, P-kid asked if he could go, because he wanted his game, and I agreed. We drove over to the house.

P-kid rang the bell/knocked on the door/whatever contraption they have for home visitor alerts. I saw Abby dash through the house. She kept the chain lock on and opened the door a crack. What went on then, I can only recount from the teenager's perspective. I did see for myself that she not only refused to open the door, but also, didn't make eye contact. Way to live the proud life, there, Abby.

By this time, Gav got out of the van and toddled to the house for his shoes. Unmenaced by him, Abby undid the chain lock and allowed Gav into the foyer. According to P-kid, she then gave Gav a lecture, instructing him to pass it on to me. Namely, "Hey Buddy, tell your mom she needs to buy you some new shoes. It's too cold to wear crocs..." and that kind of passive aggressive garbage. Yes, the high 60s is terrifyingly cold for feet.

As an aside here, let me say, Abby calls my son "buddy" too? Jesus Christ! How many more things that Greg Sheriff lectured profusely against can Abby possibly do? Maybe she wears a strap on and butt fucks him too, cause it seems every other thing in this world he was against and opposed to flew swiftly from the window upon his interactions with her. Greg thought people who called children "buddy" were morons at best, condescending pricks who knew nothing about children at worst. Now, his primary caregiver is one of those. (Maybe she dons the strap on, and tells Greg, "Bend over, buddy, or I'm not gonna buy you any nice stuff this week!" Greg docilely screws his eyes shut, fantasizes about women who are his actual physical type, and says "Ok!")

Anyways, yes, after she cowardly couldn't even face the 13 year old boy she knows deep in the deep depths of the mountains of her heart that she hasn't really wronged in any way, being on the right path and all, she took it out on the 5 year old, trash talking his mother's choice of his...shoes? Wow. That's great.

Then, following her fierce lead, Greg came to the door, and talked down to P-kid. He told him he was sorry his mom was doing this to him, and that his mom had no right, and his mom....ah, hell, it was all my fault. P-kid said Greg talked to him like he was a stupid seven year old who didn't know anything. He also noted Greg looked really crappy, with some bad home haircut, and pants that looked like they belonged to Wallowitz on the Big Bang Theory, which he thought was really weird. Kid also noted the ugliness of the house, all dark wood paneling and cheap stuff. He said he never would have thought Greg would live anywhere that looked like that, and took it as another sign of his downtrade.

P-kid returned to the car with Gav, and said Greg declared he just didn't have the game. Ro got upset, because the kid took it to Crazytown himself, and knows it's there. Those two went to the door again. P-kid said he'd let the police know Greg was withholding his game, to which Greg replied, "Tell your mom to go ahead and do whatever she's gonna do." (Or something similar.) Again, his refusal to do right by P-kid...all on me. That must be like, the easiest way to live, pass the buck, infinity.
Though it was unsuccessful as far as a retrieval mission, P-kid felt really good that he faced them. He felt glad Abby was a big ugly coward who couldn't even look him in the eye. He felt like that showed that she knew she had done wrong, and still wasn't facing it, and that she was just weaker and lamer than ever. As for Greg, there he was, just some guy in Wallowitz pants. More than anything, I think the kid felt sad.

When we unloaded at home, another text from sweet, helpful, awesome dad Greggers awaited. It said," If you come to my house again I will call the police."

I responded with something like, "And tell them what? That your child who lives there half the time came over to get something that belongs to him?" Because, clearly, the police have nothing better to do. I then explained it's actually very simple---he doesn't want them stopping by for their stuff, the easiest thing in the world can prevent that---RETURN IT IN THE FIRST PLACE.

I kind of feel like this was done quite on purpose. I think they wanted the "drama" and the heightened emotions of a house visit. After all, what better aphrodisiac do they have? The best word for Grabby these days, is it floundering, feeble, or pathetic?

Halloween Miracles

After last week's little hoorah, wherein Greg went all Nickelback about taking the children Zombie Lurching, a series of small miracles occurred. He emailed me. That's one. And...he asked me to take the kids lurching. That's two. Count 'em, hand delivered as from the Great Pumpkin himself.

Except, being Greg, he was typically douchebaggish in his handling of the situation.

He said,
"It's better if you just take Ro and Gav to the Zombie Walk than the two of us fighting over who'll be there. I can call LR and tell them the boys will ride the bus home, and we can meet at the PD at 8:30. I'll pick up Molly from daycare.

Hope this works; just send back a yes or no. School needs to have any transportation changes made before 1:30.

-Greg"

So, he proposed a plan, and my options were "yes" or "no," but no say or feedback or input of my own. Ahhhh, the king likes to control it all. Senseless, as he's got another woman he's been with publicly for nearly 2 years now. Feeble peoples.

I responded, not just with a "y" or "n". Reading it now, I was not exactly specific. At the time, I was trying to avoid being sucked in to some sort of debate or whirling vortex of Greggery, and that made me namby pamby. Even given that, I feel good that I sidestepped that swirling, beckoning abyss.

"I can't get them off the bus today. I also don't have anything to feed them, as I didn't plan on them being home, nor do I have make up for them, just clothes. I would love to take them to the lurch, though, seeing as you told them you would do it, then two seconds later, bailed. You still lied to them, which was your choice, and this won't change that. Again, though, I would love to take my kiddos lurching. "

What I meant was: I am not prepared right now to take them, but would love to see them there, yes, yes. Passing them off to me doesn't take away the fact that he personally promised HE would take them.

I'll say, in his way, I think Greg nearly tried to be nice too, in his response.

"I don't understand your response - please clarify; I get that you want to take them. Does that mean you are taking them? If you can't get them off the bus, does that mean you want to pick them up, or do I need to and exchange them at the PD?"

PLEASE! Let it be noted, the Grand Greg Sheriff said PLEASE on this day. He usually does fake polite when he wants something.

I retorted,
" i still don't understand why you can't just take them like you said.

funny how being outside the restaurant (***THE VERY ONE***) with abby and OUR children isn't a problem, but being in a group of hundreds with me there is? how will you handle it tomorrow night? you gotta grow up, mister."

For the record, I think it's absolutely, 150% assinine that we share 3 children under the age of 6 together, and this person throws this big drama queen fit because my plans and his plans overlapped....it's so traumatic for him to consider, he couldn't possible attend an event with our children if I'm there. Because, think of what could happen---our kids could do something fun with both parents there. Shudder, shudder. The true holiday horror sets in!

"Is this about taking them to the lurch or not? You seem to want to go; I don't want to be around you with our kids because there is a huge potential for a scene. I'm willing to let you take them so they can go, b/c they want to go, and that's most important to me. I'm happy to take them; I won't if you insist on being there. As far as tomorrow night goes, I can't do anything about you showing up to make a jackass of yourself; that's your call. Don't expect me to talk or pay you any attention. I can however, limit the possibility of you being a jackass in front of our children.

So, here it is: If all you want is for our children to go to the lurch, then just let me take them, and don't show up. If this is about you feeling like you need to take them, I'll meet you at the PD @ 5:30. Either way, I want them to be able to go, period. (***The bold is all LesGreg.***)

I sincerely hope you do not come tomorrow night. I don't want you there. I don't know or care why you would want to come, but if you do, that's your choice. I can only imagine you'll have an awful time. I'll probably have a good time either way, unless you set out to make me miserable, in which case I sincerely question your stability, and pity you. Actually, I pity you for even threatening to show up, because it seems desperate and petty. Please, for your own sake, go find something else to do."

Upon reading this, my thoughts swirled around something like this:

1.) You pompous jackass.
2.) How egotistical, controlling and sadly manipulative this is.
3.) Why is it NEVER about the kids for him, only his own comfort?


I felt and felt those things, swelling up from deep inside...and hey! I recognized it as such. Previously, I may have wanted to get all deconstructive, and jumped right into his whorling vortex of inanity. (Yes, not insanity---inanity. Well, maybe both, but I don't know a word for that...insananity?)

I mean, I wanted to go to the lurch. He told our kids he'd take them too. But, because it suited him, I was "insisting" on going, and in fact, not thinking of the children. Because, obviously, there was going to be a scene. Then, it goes into how, if I go out to the same place where he'll be, clearly, I'm going specifically and only so Greggy will "talk and pay attention" to me. Because, let me say, I am just itchin' to hang out with him. That's really my only motive in life, ever. I mean, he is so kind, warm hearted and loving---and such a go getter and upstanding citizen, how could I not want that? Barrrrrrrrrrrrrrrf.

Then, what a twist! He switches it up again in the next paragraph. Now, if what I really want is for my kids to go to the lurch, and if that's the only thing I care about, I need to stay home. If I'm going, clearly it's only due to some ruse to trick him into going when I am there too...or something? And, if I "insist" on going, clearly it's because it's, in fact, not about the children lurching, but about me trying to hijack his time with them and force him to let me take them himself. Or something? Generally, I think we see the world as we are. I am direct and honest....so that's how I expect other people to be. Greg is manipulative and cunning, so that's what he nonstop, continually projects on me and anything I very up frontlike say or do. Oddly, just like he accused his father of doing when his paternal side of the family felt suspicious of me. Ah, a boy just like his dear old dad. What a world medal size prize.

Then the whole paragraph about my choice to go to the Pinhook on Halloween, for my own personal reasons and self. Just...dude. It must be exhausting to be so simultaneously pompous and feeble. (Feempous? Pompble?)
Man, I wanted to rip in, and give him the feast of negative attention and energy from me he clearly craved. He purportedly always questions my stability, and pities me, but never actually acts like it. Also, it wasn't that I made plans with friends to go to a place, regardless of Grabby's presence. It's a "threat" and a "petty" one at that. Oh, the shortsightedness. Maybe Abby should buy her houseboy some glasses.