Victimorious

Of neighborliness and chocolate-covered strawberries

2010-04-23T22:08:00.000-04:00

Image by Joits via Flickr

On my way home from work I decided to stop at the Fudge Shop (I mean, who wouldn't?). While I was replenishing my chocolate supply (I usually buy a couple of slabs of dark chocolate, because, let's face it: it's the right thing to do), I decided to pick up two chocolate-covered strawberries.

The gentleman wrapped them neatly into a little box, and as I was driving home I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

My neighbor, Shirley, is such a sweetheart! When I had my unexpected surgery, she was an absolute Godsend! She called to check in on me, she picked up groceries for me, and it was just nice to know there was someone there in case I was bored sitting around at home for a month.

Well, she often has her sliding glass door open, and I thought how nice it would be to share one of the strawberries with her.

When I pulled in to my parking space, I saw she was there and her door was open! Hooray! So I hopped out of the car with the goods and headed over to invite her to indulge in this wonderful bit of decadence with me.

To my absolute delight she agreed (you know how so many people say, "oh, no, no! You go enjoy it yourself."), and we sat together on her little porch at her little cafe table, eating our chocolate-covered happinesses and chattering.

What a perfect way to spend a sunny April evening! And how lucky I am to have such a caring and joyful neighbor.

Pity Party Piffle

2010-01-18T22:28:00.012-05:00

Image by blue_j via Flickr

Last week was absolutely ridiculous.

I started out crabby, and it just went from there to completely crappy in a mere five days. What the heck is that all about?

Needless to say, I was truly working hard to Harness the hidden powers of my self-pity (with a capital H).

And, in case you were wondering, I took notes so I could remember who annoyed me most. Yup, and I savored my anger too (like a fine soup). Oh yeah.

Oh, and did I mention I had my second flat tire (followed quickly by my second new tire) in less than six months?

So, um, yes. I just had to open my mouth- er- put my hands to the computer keyboard and boast away about my wonderful luck,

And now this. This...kvetch-a-thon.

Well, it isn't exactly as if I ran out of luck, because, even though there were a whole lot of annoying things going on, there was still a lucky element to them.

Like, for instance, the flat tire I had on Friday (What? I'm not obsessing!)...

I happened to have gotten a pretty good parking space at work that day (a very rare but happy event). And I happened to walk by my car just before lunch, and I noticed that the front left tire was looking kind of flabby (usually, because I have to park so far away, I don't see my car all day, and we have a happy reunion at around 5 PM- you know...when everything's closed).

Anyway, the AAA guy who came to deal with the changing of the tire was very pleasant and didn't take too long at all. In fact, he was able to change the tire during my lunch hour, and then I was able to dash off to the car place for a new tire (no, the old one couldn't be patched up) after my last session, which ended at 3 PM.

Sigh.

Even though the week was the pits, at least my luck didn't run out entirely.

But I still want my pity party!

Damn it!

Luck be a lady

2009-12-20T12:19:00.000-05:00

Image via Wikipedia

I am insanely lucky.

No. Really, I am.

Sometimes I can't even believe how lucky I am.

Whenever anyone says to me, "Good luck!" I make sure to respond with "Yes, I always have good luck."

When I wanted to go to the Special Olympics Summer World Games (back in 1995 when they were in New Haven, CT) I had no ticket for the Opening Ceremonies. But I decided to go anyway. I figured I'd find a way to get a ticket, or I'd just roam around and go home.

Well, on the bus to the event, people were chatting, and, sure enough, someone said, "I have an extra ticket for the Opening Ceremonies. Does anyone here need one?"

I think we would agree. That's lucky.

This past year I got to open for Christine Lavin. Again. Fabulously good luck!

We had a big pile of snow yesterday, and I decided to make myself a pot of soup before heading out to unearth my car.

Well, while the lentils were stewing away, I looked out the window, and it turned out my kindly neighbor's son had already unearthed my car! And my parking space!

I went out to thank him and to offer him some soup (he declined). But, wow, I can't believe my good luck!

I hope your luck is just as lovely today!

Of funerals

2009-12-17T21:42:00.000-05:00

Image by Brandon Godfrey via Flickr

Today I went to Jo Anne's funeral.

That is so strange to say.

Jo Anne was my boss for the last...gosh, I don't know, quite a few years. And over those years, she and I developed a friendship.

She found out she had cancer in the summer of 2008, and she was so ill she was never able to come back to work.

So. The funeral.

I couldn't go to her open casket. I couldn't bear the idea of seeing her body, her face, seeing her in a box, and then taken to the cemetery and put in the ground. I know as much as anyone else that we are not our bodies, but I'm still not used to the formless spirit version of my friend.

Right then I resolved, once again, to be cremated when I die. Frankly, I'm still haunted by the memory of my client's funeral, when he was buried, left there, by himself, under a cold, dark sky.

In fact, I broke down and cried when I saw Jo Anne's casket carried down the stairs to the waiting hearse. I was sitting in my car waiting for the funeral procession to the cemetery.

All through the funeral and then again at the cemetery I kept waiting for there to be singing.

Jo Anne loved to sing, and I accompanied her many (many) times when we did shows at work. One of her friends described her as a diva, and she was a diva. She was a great diva. She loved to dress nicely and she liked jewelry. In short, she always said how much she enjoyed being spoiled.

True to her diva self, she sang diva songs- Madonna, Janet Jackson, Vanessa Williams, Whitney Houston, and the like.

But the song that has been running through my head since Saturday, when I found out she had died, has been Taylor Dayne's "I'll Always Love You". Not the part about being a lover and all that. Just the "I'll always love you" part.

It feels to me as if Jo Anne is making sure we all knew she cared so much about us.

And she really did.

I know I drove her nuts a lot of the time, but I also know she respected and trusted me. And that has meant a lot to me. Yup. Jo Anne meant a lot to me.

And I sure do miss her.

One of my favorite quotes

2009-11-26T08:38:00.000-05:00

Image by Aidan Jones via Flickr

"When you meet anyone, remember it is a holy encounter. As you see him you will see yourself. As you treat him you will treat yourself. As you think of him you will think of yourself. Never forget this, for in him you will find yourself or lose yourself." (ACIM 8.III.4:1-5)

Happy Thanksgiving, good people!

Happiness is a warm gum

2009-11-16T00:16:00.000-05:00

Image by Mish Mish via Flickr

A good friend of mine has finally helped me to solve the dilemma (because, well, for me it presented a bit of a challenge) of not knowing whether or not I've brushed my teeth for a full two minutes.

Well.

She has brilliantly divided her mouth into sections- quadrants, if you will. Then she divides the quadrants into six sections each (obviously we have to brush the fronts and backs of our teeth, yes?).

The way she figures it, we have a total of 24 sections worth of teeth to be brushed for a total of 2 minutes (or 120 seconds).

120 seconds (which is our toothbrushing goal) divided by all 24 sections of teeth equals (drumroll, please!) a total of 5 seconds spent on each section.

I figure if I use my CPR training and count "one one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four one thousand, five one thousand", then I should get the required two minutes in for the toothbrushing-o-rama!

And now, courtesy of my happily logical friend, I've got a fabulous fool-proof system for getting my teeth all happy and shiny (and hopefully cavity and dental drama free).

Now isn't that nice?

Of Porridge

2009-11-13T10:30:00.000-05:00

Image via Wikipedia

My current breakfast obsession has been this wonderful recipe for Spelt Porridge!

I always feel as if I'm in the middle of some olde English meal. And it's nice and soft and warm on a cold morning.

I usually add almonds to mine.

Try it! Tell me what you think.

You mean...I'm just average?

2009-11-09T23:14:00.047-05:00

Image by djbones via Flickr

For the first time in my own personal history I can be deemed average in the weight department (still too short for average though).

Well, I suppose we all end up being average if we wait around long enough. (Erg! you just don't know what it took for me to not pun the word "wait"!)

Observe:

Body Measurements

(Data are for the U.S.,1999-2002)

Measured average height, weight, and waist circumference for adults ages 20 years and over

Men:
Height (inches): 69.3
Weight (pounds): 190
Waist circumference (inches): 39.0
Women:
Height (inches): 63.8
Weight (pounds): 163
Waist circumference (inches): 36.5

Source: Anthropometric Reference Data for Children and Adults; U.S. Population, 1999-2002, tables 17,19, 26, 30, 32, and 39

(From the CDC website)

Compassionate Ex-nun!

2009-11-08T08:40:00.003-05:00

I was lazing about before trying to convince myself to get out from under my cozy collection of blankets this morning, and the program Speaking of Faith came on NPR. Krista Tippet was interviewing Karen Armstrong, a former Catholic nun.

I was only half listening, but as I was lying there I started to really pay attention to what she had to say, mostly because she said it so beautifully and compellingly.

I particularly appreciated what she had to say with regard to the common element of every single world religion, which, she noted, is compassion.

Give it a listen when you have some time.

Something is BUGGING me!

2009-10-25T20:53:00.001-04:00

Image by antaldaniel via Flickr

For some unknown reason this has developed into the year of the floating creepy brown spindly legged bug!

How did this happen?

I am plagued (plagued, I tell you!) by these creatures. They keep coming in my wee condo, and I don't know how, because the windows are all closed, and I am very (okay ridiculously) cautious when I go in and out of the front door to make sure nothing is clinging to me.

What the heck are these things anyway? They are completely freaking me out! And I'm sure my neighbors don't appreciate loud shrieks at a variety of hours during the day either.

Worms in my shoes

2009-04-12T07:03:00.003-04:00

I don't take kindly to rainy days in the Spring, because it always smells like worms at the developmental center.

Okay, yes! I know I'm being weird, but they do smell.

And I walk around, terrified that I'm going to step on one of these squirmy little creatures. Ewwww!!!!

(You're right. I need to get a grip. Let me try again.)

This was a very draggy day. I was tired and not feeling particularly well, and D was kind of quiet. It was raining, and, as I've mentioned before, D tends to prefer the gentle and leisurely approach to ambulation. Ahem.

It was all I could do to get myself to escort him from his cottage to the Music Room. It was all I could do to help him avoid stepping on slithery worms. Heck, it was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other! But that's what I told myself. "Come on, Roia. You just have to keep taking the next step and you'll get inside, out of the rain, and into the Music Room." It didn't hurt that, because I had a baseball cap and my hood on, I could only see about a step ahead of me at a time anyway.

I was happy to see D. It wasn't anything to do with D, really. At least I don't think so. I felt so...I don't know...inert. D often seems to struggle with inertia, and I wondered if there was a connection, but I actually did have to go to the doctor, so it may have been me today.

Heavy sigh.

I don't know about anyone else, but I think a day like this calls for a pint of ice cream.

More sighing.

Yes, these are the life and hard times of Roia. [Insert pity party here.]

2009-04-09T20:09:00.004-04:00

Gosh, it's been a whole age since I posted! You know what this means, of course?

It means I've been taking my life way too seriously of late. It means I haven't managed to take a step back and look at things with Love, Peace, or Jesus. It also means I haven't eaten any darned cupcakes.

Sigh.

Okay then. I'm going to give it a red hot go, and I'll see what I come up with in the next week.

Rats. I hate when this happens.

Off I go to boldly attempt to move beyond my self.

Can you FEEL the love?

2009-02-22T10:08:00.016-05:00

I was doing a session yesterday with one of my clients (I work as a music therapist), and I noticed something interesting. The thing is, though, that I didn't realize why it was so nifty until this morning while I was taking a shower (is it just me, or is that not the best place in the world to process? Unless, of course, you happen to be living in a prison...but I digress).

Just as a note: I work with folks who don't use speech to communicate, so when I'm describing my client's actions, it's because that's the most tangible information I'm being given for the purposes of understanding what's going on in the session.

So, there we were doing our music therapy thing. And, I have to admit, I was busy confronting my client and asking him to look at a fantasy he's been clinging to that's keeping him from moving forward.

The thing I noticed though, while I was doing this, was the deep love I felt for him as I spoke to him (and as I tried to pay attention to how he was responding). It felt like love was pouring out of me and into me at the same time. It was kind of unexpected but very welcome. I felt very energized and happy- even though I knew that the thing we were addressing was very difficult for him. It's also not exactly my favorite thing in the world to put my clients on the spot.

Usually, if I'm talking (or singing) about something this gentleman doesn't want to hear he will attempt to leave the room or (literally) stick his fingers in his ears. He didn't do either one of those things. He moved around a lot, but it was clear he had no intention of leaving, and, while he was probably uncomfortable, he stayed very present to the experience and made a lot of eye contact with me.

You may well be wondering why the heck this matters.

Well, here's the thing: As you may already know from reading this blog, I've been studying A Course in Miracles. I have often listened to tapes where Ken Wapnick talks about how when we ask Holy Spirit for help, we see the situation, and act within the situation, from a loving perspective (as in from the love that is in our mind)- even if what we are doing (on the level of form) is not something particularly loving. Even though the fact that we think we have a form is based in the ego's thought system of separation and sin and suffering.

I'm kind of wondering if that experience with my client was one of those shiny moments of feeling the love and peace of God (and- hello!- not missing it for a change). Pretty cool, huh?

This might even beat cupcakes...as long as you're eating them with Jesus, of course.

Won't you be my neighbor...

2009-02-22T08:25:00.006-05:00

Speaking of Mr. Rogers, I was minding my own business and getting ready for work yesterday when I came to a startling (and somewhat disturbing) realization: I am dressing more and more like Fred Rogers every day. Observe:

Okay, it's true I'm not wearing a tie, but, given the whole zip-up sweater in a muted color thing that I've got going on, can it really be all that far behind?

I'm just saying.

Conversations at the grocery store check-out

2009-02-10T18:39:00.011-05:00

"Hi."

"Have you got a Price Plus card?"

"Yup, here you go."

"Any coupons today?"

"No, no coupons. I thought I was being impressive showing up with the Price Plus card attached to my keys."

"Mm. Nice weather we've been having lately."

"Yeah, it sure is a nice change. Maybe I can stop wearing my long johns."

"Yeah! Any coupons?"

"Um, no. No coupons."

"How many bags did you bring?"

"Three, and I'm using two."

"Okay, that's five cents off for each bag. Any coupons today."

"No."

(Photo taken by melisdramatic. Thanks, Mel, and yay for cupcakes!)

Go. Read this. Hurry.

2009-02-02T18:59:00.003-05:00

http://thepioneerwoman.com/blog/2006/12/tanner_the_barb/

I almost hurt myself I laughed so hard reading this. In fact, I'm off to get myself some tissues!

Quotes That Make Me Nuts or Why Does It All Seem So Much Easier When Jesus Says It?

2009-01-30T20:00:00.004-05:00

I came across the first quote as I was making yet another attempt to get through the section in A Course in Miracles on "The Message of the Crucifixion". Given my deep appreciation for the art of personal suffering and self-sacrifice, of course, it's no small wonder I keep getting hung up on this section (no vile pun intended).

"You are free to perceive yourself as persecuted if you choose." (ACIM T6.I.5:2).

Well, I suppose I could go the persecuted route today. I am, after all, a victim of the world I see.

"God's Will for you is perfect happiness. Why should you choose to go against His Will"

(ACIM W100.2:1-2)

Yes...one would wonder about that, wouldn't one?

Really lovely meditative music

2009-01-20T09:23:00.005-05:00

I don't usually listen to Ambient music, but it happens that I'm screening music for the Just Plain Folks music awards, and I came across this album by Al Gromer Khan ("A Different Kind of Silence"). It is so wonderfully quiet and peaceful I literally felt my heart rate start to settle down as I listened. It's the kind of sounds you would actually be able to listen to while meditating, I think. So if that's your thing, I believe I'm actually making a recommendation here.

(Photo by www.darkodrincic.com)

Uch, if it were only this easy

2009-01-18T14:03:00.005-05:00

My minister sent this along. It, um, says it all, I think. It reminds me a little of Edwene Gaines' comment (expressed with her wonderful Alabaman accent, of course), "well, honey, just don't DO that!"

"Now I Have Everything..."

2008-11-26T13:53:00.006-05:00

"...not only everything- I have a little bit more."

Observe, to your right, the excellent and unique gift from my good friend, Jill. Yes, you saw correctly. You use these little molds to make guitar and bass-shaped ice/swizzle sticks.

My brilliant aunt suggested it may work with chocolate as well. Thanks, Jilly!

It's Never Too Late to Eat Your Cupcakes With Jesus

2008-11-19T22:33:00.007-05:00

I spend a lot of time trying to make sense of A Course in Miracles (ACIM). The latest thing I'm trying to understand is this whole concept of eating with Jesus (as in, inviting the Holy Spirit to be with you in your right mind as you eat- which is an ego-based event- ack!). The thing we were talking about in our ACIM group a few weeks ago (that caught my ear) was that we are convinced that "sacrifice" is a necessary and inevitable part of life. If I get something, it will surely had to have been at your expense. If you get something, then I must have had to suffer in order for you to have it. If I do something I think is wrong, then I'm going to pay for it in some way or another.

Today at work, we had a luncheon, and I (along with the other two music therapists I work with) decided to eat two cupcakes. It felt like a good idea at the time- they were yummy, they were soft, it was 12 degrees outside...all in all, I knew it would make me happy. So I ate the second cupcake, and somewhere in mid-cupcake I realized, "oh, yeah. That was too much".

So when I decided I had to get on the scale tonight (not a sensible decision, but I can't seem to keep myself without clothing for longer than a few seconds these days, because it's so damned cold in my condo, and who the hell weighs themselves at the end of the day with all their damned clothes on anyway?), I was starting to think, "this isn't going to be pretty". Then I remembered that whole "Jesus doesn't want you to sacrifice. This isn't about sacrifice" spiel from class. And I remembered reading (in the "Overeating: A Dialogue: An Application of the Principles of A Course in Miracles" book) the suggestion to "eat with Jesus"- in other words: eat without guilt. So I figured, "Okay, I could feel guilty about eating the cupcakes, and then, for sure, I'll have gained weight, and I'll never lose these 15 pounds I really need to get rid of. Or I could retroactively eat them with joy (and Jesus) and recognize that cupcakes have no effect on me, because they aren't real, and this whole idea that I need to suffer for my sin of eating cupcakes is crap."

I hopped on the scale. It wasn't pretty.

(Lovely cupcake picture by Melody.Loves.You- and, Melody, we love you too!)

Okay, okay, this isn't about victimosity, but it's awfully cool

2008-10-24T20:41:00.005-04:00

I was busy doing four things at once (making dinner, making tomorrow's dinner, trying to figure out a new application on my iMac, and listening to NPR), all while nursing an aching back (there's your victimosity lesson for the day!), and all of a sudden my ears went on alert. The folks on The World, announced that we'd get to hear the only remaining recording of Virginia Woolf's voice.

I stopped boiling and steaming noodles and broccoli rabe and paused to listen with curiosity. I guess I hadn't thought her voice would be so deep.

There wasn't much else to say about it- I just thought it was neat, and I thought you might think so too.

Feeling Malled

2008-10-07T19:18:00.013-04:00

I generally don't go to the mall. I don't have a lot of money, I don't have the right hair, and I am not a big fan of shopping (unless it's for books, and, hello! Amazon has one-click shopping!). Last Thursday, in an "I've had a horrible day, everything went wrong, and now I must go and spend money" frenzy, I decided I was going to go the The Mall.

Actually, my real goal in going to mall-land this past week was to finally use up the credit I'd gotten from a shoe store when I (at long last) got up the nerve to go back to the mall and return the shoes that didn't fit and made my feet hurt like hell. So, maybe it wasn't because of the shoes (yes, yes, the flat feet and the walking around all day and not exactly being at my ideal weight were probably contributing factors), but the sneakers I bought certainly didn't help, and, for crying out loud, I never even got them "broken in".

I suppose if I'm being truthful, I have to admit that I'm just not good at mall shopping. I find the whole experience so aversive that I have to zoom through, so I tend to buy things quickly and without thinking about it for very long (well, okay, it's possible that I do that in places that are not malls as well- but it's definitely worse in malls).

There I was (mm-hmm, minding my very own business) walking along the mallways, and twice (twice, I tell you) I was assailed by militant mall kiosk salespeople. I don't even know what the heck they wanted to sell me. I don't care either. All I can tell you is that they all seem to have the same "pick-up" line: "I'd like to ask you a question..."

No!! No questions, please! No creams. No buffing my damn fingernails while I'm walking by. How deep do the grooves in my forehead have to be so I can convey a sense of "Don't talk to me- I'm a desperate woman on a mission" to these people?!

I don't know about you guys, but this kind of thing sends me into a whole spluttering, excuse-giving, panic-stricken, freak out! In retrospect, it occurs to me that normal people probably just ignore these kiosk maniacs who lunge out into mall walking traffic with their "Let me show you something amazing" shtick while grabbing your hand and beginning to vigorously apply some weird thing that suddenly makes one single finger nail shine (I mean...what is that?).

I can't ignore people. My whole mantra in life is "pay attention", and that's what I do. That's what I'm good at. So when some salesperson pretty much insists on it, I become terribly anxious, and I start with the making of excuses, my voice often reaching a somewhat frantic tone: "Please no! I'm allergic to everything!" ("You're allergic to silk and cotton?- evidently, the kiosk person is not buying it) "Whatever! I have to find this store! I have everything I need! Thank you! Bye!" and I scurry off with a look of utter horror (because, after all, I am personally responsible for whether or not these people make a sale on a given day, and I have just let them know they won't be making that sale with me).

Hm, wasn't there something about shoes and credit? Oh, yes! I was there on a quest to buy myself more comfortable shoes (so I can continue to mall walk in peace and comfort while being run down by scary salespeople). Well, after trundling around for the better part of 45 minutes to an hour, I finally had to acknowledge that I hadn't seen the store, and I had need of a map. I found one, and, to my dismay, that particular store has apparently closed its operation at this mall. There are, of course, a host of other shoe places, but I don't have credit at those stores.

That seemed like a good exit cue for me, so I made tracks toward door-land (so I could get back to parking lot land and drive my car to grocery store land- where everything is usually happy).

Well! As if mall walking wasn't disturbing enough...on my way out of the door, a man was walking toward me, so I held the door for him. I almost told him, "Really, there's no need to hurry, I'm on my way out" when I realized there was no need to say that, because he wasn't looking particularly hurried at all. In fact, his affect was quite flat, and he just kind of walked through the door, as if I hadn't just held it open for him for the last minute, and managed, barely, to say "thank you."

Once I let go of the door and began the schlep to the parking lot, I found myself surrounded by the smokers who've all been banished from the inside of malls (now if they'd just banish the kiosk terrorists...). I was busy wondering whether the man had just witnessed a gang killing or something, and I must have looked at one of the smokers and raised my eyes heavenward, because he nodded and said, "Bizarre." Yup, I think that about covers it.

Polka anyone?

2008-09-03T20:48:00.002-04:00

Go ahead and ask me what I did tonight when I (finally) got home from work. Go ahead.

Yes, you guessed it! I went to You Tube to find a recording of the Andrews Sisters singing the "Beer Barrel Polka". You may well be asking, "What the hell did you that for, Roia?" And that would be a very good question. As it happens, I will be playing for a memorial service tomorrow at work (yes, it's part of my job), and we were asked to play a polka, because the man who died used to like listening to polkas when he was a child. So, I'm learning the whole beginning part of the "Beer Barrel Polka" (that would be the part that comes before the rousing chorus of "Roll out the barrel, we'll have a barrel of fun, etc."). I didn't even know there was a beginning to the song!

And as soon as I master that song, I have to learn "Blessed Assurance". Being a Jew-Moslem who goes to Unity...um, I don't have a lot of experience with hymns. So, where did I go to learn yet another song this evening? Right again! (Brilliant!) You Tube! And the freaky thing is: there are an awful lot of options and versions from which to choose! There's the a cappella version, the Sandi Patty version (pretty nice, I have to say- rather jazzy!), the Randy Travis version (which has nice guitar and that country twang he's all about), and even a version on what sounds to be a saxophone!

Here's the thing: You Tube (yes, You Tube) has saved my musical life as far as memorial services go, and, I think we can all agree, this is very sad indeed.

So what did you do with your evening? Personally, I need to get some more practice. Oy!

Harnessing the Hidden Power of Your Self Pity

2008-09-02T16:47:00.003-04:00

This is a talk I gave at Unity Spiritual Center on August 17, 2008. I realized that I wasn't finished whining, so I decided I needed to start a whole entire blog dedicated to cultivating the fine art of self-pity. Join me, won't you?

My good friends, I want you to know that I racked my brain trying to figure out: what can I offer these good people? They come to Unity every Sunday (or so) in the hope that the person who’s standing up here will give them one of the many little pushes that we all need on our way to spiritual glory. I have to admit I was a bit daunted, because I have been feeling decidedly un-glorious in the spiritual department of late, but I promised Audrey I would say something useful to you.

So, I thought about it, and I thought about it, and I thought about it some more, and then, last Friday, I was taking a walk, and I was trying to move all of my anger and my rage, and my victimosity (yes, my vicimosity) to somewhere other than the left side of my neck and shoulder, and it hit me (all at once) that, even though I’ve been in this generalized state of grumpiness and feeling downright un-spiritual, I did, in fact, have something very special to offer to you on this particular Sunday! Are you curious? I think you’re going to be very excited. This is what I have to offer you:

I can teach you how to harness the hidden powers of your self-pity! Why? To justify your suffering! To demonstrate how special you are, of course (not that anyone else ever notices how special you are, or notices how much you’ve suffered, mind you)!

Let’s face it: there has to be a reason for all the tribulation you experience on a daily basis! By learning how to expand and elaborate your self-pity, you will now know how, why, when, and under which circumstances you have experienced your personal angst.

Because I realize I’m a self-proclaimed expert in this particular topic, I want to give you the benefit of an entire summer of wallowing and making sure to enjoy and express my self-pity to its fullest. So what I bring to you today is a guided tour through the land of self-pity, suffering, and the victimhood.

To that end, I’d like to start with a little song, if I may:

It’s a miserable day in this victimhood,

A pitiful day for a victim,

Would you be mine?

Could you be mine?

It’s a self-pitying day in this victimhood,

You too can become a victim,

Would you be mine?

Could you be mine?

I have always wanted to be a victim, just like you

I’ve always wanted to suffer and kvetch to somebody like you

I suppose I will make it through just one more day (audible sigh), and

Since you’re here, stuck with me anyway,

Would you be mine, could you be mine,

Won’t you be my victim?

And won’t you please, won’t you please, [whining PLEASE]

Please let me be your victim?

(with deep, deep apologies, of course, to Fred Rogers)

To assist you in developing your skill as you indulge in self-pity, I’ve assembled a list of sorts to support you as you prepare to practice your victimhood. Let us begin.

Now, in order to gracefully descend into a perpetual state of self-pity, it’s important to note the three basic building blocks, if you will, that make up this state of mind:

§ Trust no one. You’ve been betrayed from the get-go, and it’s clear that no one on earth or in Heaven is worthy of your trust.
§ Know, without a doubt, that you are unlovable. This is self-explanatory.
§ Remember your feelings aren’t valid, and, by the way, neither are you.

With these three elements firmly implanted in your psyche, you are fully prepared to take on the task of harnessing the hidden powers of your self-pity!

Step #1. First and foremost: Make sure to write down every time someone does something wrong to you, someone says something wrong to you- even things that are just the slightest bit suspect, because you KNOW they meant you harm- even if you know they’re just thinking something wrong about you…write it down.

Now, I really want you try to be as consistent as you can with this step, because this is a very important first step on your way to celebrating your victimhood.

“Why?” (you may well be asking). Well, my friends, this is the way you make sure to make it real. Because you’re writing it all down, you KNOW this happened, and you have proof (which means it’s probably also a good idea to write down the date and time of the incriminating incidents as well). Doing this step also helps you to make sure that you know you are different from the person or people who did this to you. YOU aren’t like THAT! YOU know how to act! YOU are special and separate. And don’t you forget it!

A very important step. Really, in some ways it’s the step from which all the other steps flow. Very crucial.

Step #2. DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, EVER ask Holy Spirit for help to see things differently. There is NOTHING WRONG WITH YOUR VISION! Your seeing is just fine. You can plainly see when someone is causing you suffering. It’s clear as day, so there’s no need to ask Holy Spirit or Jesus or any of them guys for help. What do they care? They already have their oneness with God!

Again, do not ask Holy Spirit for help to see things differently. Don’t even go there. Another strong element to perfecting your self-pity.

Now, on to Step #3. You ARE a victim of the world you see. If it weren’t for this lame as hell world, you’d be happy. You’d be peaceful! We all know it. So, yes, you ARE a victim of the world you see.

You might even want to start to use this as a kind of affirmation: “I AM the victim of the world I see.” And just kind of repeat it to yourself (and to anyone who will listen to you) ad nauseam. It’ll help you kind of create this general…underlying awareness that you bring along with you to all the interactions you experience during the day. A very powerful step indeed, and one that is closely related to “Why, yes, I AM the center of universe, why do you ask?”

Ah, yes, Step #4. There is no need to behave in a kind manner toward those who have wronged you. And, of course, since in Step 1 I encouraged you to be diligent about making your list, you will know exactly how, when, by whom, and in what manner you have been wronged. The thing with celebrating your self-pity is that you need to get in touch with your indignant anger. You need to stop being such a nicey-nicey person, and really find your inner beast!

There are whole legions of nasty things you could think of to say to those people who have been mean to you. In fact, while you’re writing down all the mean things they’ve done, you can also jot down some choice awful things to say to them. Make sure you’re giving it as good as, and even better than, you got. Your kindness doesn’t make a difference in this hopeless world. All it does is get your butt kicked! Repeat after me: NO MORE MR. NICE GUY!

Now, Step #5 (is a bit of a continuation of Step #4). Truly sit with and savor your anger. I want you to really feel your anger. And try to use all your senses to do it: You know? Taste it, smell it, see how it makes your face contort, and it gives you lines in your forehead, and your mouth gets all weird. Listen to how loudly you can bellow while you beat your fists against your chest and yell, “I AM ANGRY!!!” at the top of your very lungs! Go ahead! You’ve earned it!

Keep repeating to yourself the events that led to your anger, and make sure that each time, you embroider it a bit more, so you can be further justified in your anger. Luxuriate in your ill temper, your exasperation, your wrath, your fury, your well-founded outrage! Indulge yourself in the very unfairness of it all! You have a right to be this ticked off! You deserve to be this ticked off! After all, you have proof. You wrote it down.

Next on our list is #6. Find yourself a scapegoat! Now, just so you know that I wasn’t being a total slacker, I did some research, and I looked up the word scapegoat, and here’s what I found:

• A scapegoat is (and I quote): a person who is blamed for the wrongdoings, mistakes, or faults of others, esp. for reasons of expediency. (Sure it’s immoral, but you’ve got to admit, it is practical!)

So, yes, find yourself a scapegoat, and go to work blaming that person or situation or thing for everything that goes wrong in your life. It could be your weight, the day you were born, your hairstylist, it could be your mother (well, it probably is your mother), it could be your sister, your lover, your dog, your high school math teacher, the President of the United States of America can even be your scapegoat! The list, the possibilities…they’re just virtually endless!

Oh, yes, Step #7 (on of my personal favorites). Resist! At any and all cost, resist reality! Contrary to popular belief, resistance is NOT futile! And, while you’re at it, resist hearing your inner voice (that’s a sign of mental illness anyway).

Contradict everyone. They’re wrong, and you’re right, and, quite frankly, that’s all you really need to remember in order to practice this step.

Here’s one I think you’ll enjoy, and it’s one you can share as well. Step #8. Call all of your “friends” and complain to them bitterly about how and why and under what circumstances you are suffering and experiencing your victimosity.

Spare no details. Give them the whole bloody, messy saga…in four part harmony and with feeling, AND expect them to say “there there, pat pat” and if, for some hideous reason, your friends do not respond in this appropriate manner, don’t sweat it! You can just conveniently add them to the list of people who have wronged you.

Yes, good people, through the magic of victimhood, you are now justified in hating them as well. Isn’t this brilliant?!

On to Step #9. Do everything by, and for, yourself, and NEVER ask anyone for help. It seems pretty obvious to me, but just in case you’re not getting why this is so crucial…this way you can make sure everyone knows how hard you've tried and what kind of effort you have had to exert.

That’s right, accept no help under any circumstance. And, just to really make it count, loudly announce to the world, while you are doing things by and for yourself, that you expect no help from anyone. You know they have better things to do with their lives than to come and help you! Never they mind that you’re still recovering from that gall-bladder operation, or that you fell and hurt your knees three days ago, and that you have a terrible allergy to dust. You’ll be just fine, thank you very much! Oh yeah. That’ll show them!

Step #10. Pay no attention. Pay no attention to the people in your life, to other drivers on the road, to your co-workers, to your family, to your body, to your health, to your bills- basically, pay no attention. You are not responsible for all them other bastards! Remember, YOU are the victim of the world you see!

And, yes, Step #11. Absolutely no deep breathing. What is with this trend? We end up sounding like some kind of telephone pre-vert practice convention! Enough already with all the deep breathing and self-awareness garbage!

If you want to master self-pity, you need to stay with your stress and anxiety. How else will you find the energy to write down the ways people have wronged you and to do everything for yourself?!

Ooh, another personal favorite (and maybe for you as well) Step #12. Cultivate your feelings of inadequacy. Compare yourself to absolutely everyone in your life, and know that you don’t measure up.

We all know it’s true: Everyone else is taller, thinner, blonder, smarter, richer, more athletic, eats more healthfully, has a nicer family of origin, got a better education, has a better relationship, a better car and is just plain better than you are.

And KNOW that everyone else in the world knows this and sees your inadequacy.

To further enhance your feelings of inadequacy, you can also inject your insecurity, through your commentary and actions, into your relationships with other people. That way they too can know how you have suffered for your sanity.

Just a point of reference here, all of these people make good scapegoats.

You know, I hope you’re all seeing how each one of these steps complements the others. [But, you probably aren’t.]

Onward! Ah! Lucky Step #13! Learn to wail loudly at unexpected moments. Letting out a long, tragic, and satisfying wail is cathartic AND it serves as a special signal to those around you that you are fully engaged in the act of suffering.

Many people who don’t yet feel comfortable with public wailing have begun their practice with frequent heavy and audible sighing. So, you might want to try that to start.

Now to Step #14 (this one is also very popular). Have numerous unrealistic expectations of yourself and of the people in your life. This one is particularly easy, and it’s likely that you already do it, but it certainly bears mention.

I encourage you to expect all sorts of things: a particularly effective one is to make sure that you DO NOT articulate your needs, and expect people to meet them. Of course you can also expect people to do what you think they should, expect people to understand you (and your suffering of course), expect someone else to do the dishes, to take care of all the plans, expect the worst, and expect that you should be perfect.

And when your expectations aren’t met, you throw a tantrum! A useful way to begin a tantrum, of course, is by using the loud, long wail which we mentioned in Step #13.

And last but not least, Step #15. Whine. As a precursor to wailing, it is useful as a more consistent and grating way to get people’s attention. In fact, perfecting a whining tone in your voice really helps the people in your life know that you’re serious about the successfulness of your self-pity experience.

And, so, friends, as you can see, practicing the gentle art of self-pity is within reach for all of us. Through using these steps that I have outlined here for you, I want you to learn to luxuriate in your self-pity in the same way you’d lounge about in a hot bath! Now you can finally be justified in your suffering. You can truly know that you have good reason to have been miserable all these years!

Now, go forth, and harness the hidden powers of YOUR self pity! So you too can emerge VICTIMORIOUS!