The Zen of Being Zen When You're Zen - Part I

Quan Yin - Bodhisattva/goddess of mercy

First off, I want to apologize to my blog followers, adoring fans, anonymous readers, borderline admirers/creepers *SIDENOTE: fine line, motherfuckas, fine line* and anyone else who's enjoyed my witty writing abilities, epic rants, smart-assyness, g33ky stuff, and yea the F-bonbs ... it's been like 3 years since my last post. *Inconceivable!* But, um, yea, I've been kinda busy. Aww, how sweet, ya'll missed me! Well, I'm back -new and improved, better than ever- with your "Widowed Hottie" fix. As always, I have so much to rant about, err I mean share, so hang in there with me, take a deep breath, keep your hands & arms inside the car, and hold the fuck on!

         *And there was much rejoicing (yaaaaaaaaay)*

Aaaaaaaand we're back (to the purpose of this exercise):

Zen, huh? I think you mean "Zin"? Little miss "wine snob" up in this bitch not embracing an opportunity to use a wine reference as a play on words? I mean for fuck sakes, wine country is in your backyard! (more on that later in Part Deux). Or did you just spell it wrong and spell checker didn't catch it because 'zin' and 'zen' are actually real words (not one of your made up words)??
Nope. No missed opportunities here -don't worry. Wine references incoming in 3...2...1...- and yep, spell checker is working as designed. Ok. So, Zen it is! Well, then, what is Zen?

I'm sure anyone with the ability to Google can find a pretty good definition of 'zen'. Actually, for shits and giggles, I did Google "zen" and believe it or not, Urban Dictionary had a pretty good "top" definition: "... a total state of focus ... a togetherness of body and mind...Zen is a way of being...dropping illusion and seeing things without distortion created by your own thoughts"
Da-ymmn! Pretty spot on. Sure, I'll buy that for a $1. And you should too. Trust me, take my word for it. Urban Dictionary is dangerous, and also a time suck. You can spend an entire afternoon searching for words you heard on Archer ... *SIDENOTE: Some things you just can't unlearn. DANGER ZOOONNNNEEEEEE* But I digress.

For me, Zen is a feeling; a state of being. If you're lucky enough to be able to attain zen instantly, good for you. *bitch!* To find my zen, I have had to do a lot of soul searching, uprooting of my entire existence, surrendering & releasing, some more releasing, a little bit more releasing, meditating, evoking happy thoughts, trying out new healing modalities -the one that finally worked? ACUPUNCTURE! W0ot!-, coming to terms with "reality", facing my demons head on, drinking tea from Chinese herbs, and a little *READ: a shit ton* of letting go.

Let's set the way-back machine to October 2012: In "toxic-relationships-since-my-husband-died" #3 (3rd times the charm, right? Pfft!) I'll spare the excruciating details, but I found myself feeling unsexy, unattractive, and undesired. I know, I know, moi? The Widowed Hottie not feel sexy? UNPOSSIBLE! but, yea, I did. FYI, words and actions are powerful! Think long & hard before you speak and/or act. Just sayin'. I'm still learning this; its a process. AAANNYYYway-for the purpose of time, I'll make a long story short. I happened upon a Burlesque show. I was in awe of this beauty on stage, who oozed confidence, talent, and duh! sexy!. Then I had an apostrophe...lightning struck my brain...and yea, it hurt. Ok, so. here's this woman totally workin; it, enjoying herself, in her element, crowd cheering, smiles on faces, all around good time, no nudity involved -or poles, or silicone, or lap dances, just sexy curves -like mine- which she wasn't hiding, and everyone thinks shes beautiful and they can't take their eyes off her?? ... that could be me! One day that'll be me! Oh, yes. It will be me. Magic fuckin' bananas, exactly one year later, that was me. Up on the same stage. workin' it, enjoying myself, oozing confidence, talent, and duh! sexy!, crowd cheering, smiles on faces, and (for once in my life) not hiding my sexy curves, all eyes on me, in.my.element. ... I was born to be on stage!

'Being Zen' #1: Validation for sexy does not come from outside sources -like goobers who will never see your true worth and beauty; Validation for sexy comes from within.
Pairs nicely with: Bubbles!!! Anything with bubbles! Because, OMG.*squeel!* yay! bubbles!!!

The lovely Miss Inna Cent

Shall we move forward a tad? April 2014: I was laid-off, still in "toxic-relationships-since-my-husband-died" #3, overpowering feelings that bigger & better things were out there for me (including my man in uniform. Yea, I was still on that trip), determined to find these bigger & better things my heart said were out there, yet no clue where to start looking ... basically, I was stuck ... or so I thought. A dear friend of mine gave me a book to read. An old book, nothing in its title would have ever grabbed my attention at B&N- thus I would never have read it-, which sat unopened on my night stand for months until one day I picked it up and read it because a little voice in my head said "just read the first chapter, you'll see." Ok, ok, so I didn't read the whole book, only like 3 chapters before ADD/squirrel/Oh! Shiney! kicked in, but what I did read had great insight, plus DIY-in-the-comfort-of-your-own-home exercises for honing in on your wants & desires. Which I actually did -the first exercise anyway. Really! I did! I have proof! Sheesh!
Not two weeks after completing that first exercise, "toxic-relationships-since-my-husband-died" #3 ended, I was offered a job, I sold the house, packed up, and moved out of state.

'Being Zen' #2: Sometimes shit needs to fall apart before it can fall together
Pairs nicely with: An old-vine zinfandel. Smokey & sweet, smooth & tart, something you can either sip or chug, strong enough to get you buzzed but not shit-faced (unless you drink the entire bottle ... by yourself ... at one sitting ... in under an hour), also includes faint after notes of black cherry and coffee.

And we're coming up to more recent times: So there I am in a new town, -fuck me!- a new state!, thousands of miles from everything I've ever known, friends & family a mere phone call away (reach out and touch someone!) yet unable to jump in the car and actually reach out and touch someone, just me, all by myself. Shit!
Though super-enjoying my new found realization of "July is still jacket weather" and the reality that the ocean was only a 15 minute drive away, I was bored and lonely and maybe a little bit *READ: TOTALLY!* homesick. -WTF was wrong with me?- Advice from  my awesome momma, "Get out. Go do something that makes you happy. The best time to meet people is when you are having fun".
*Such a wise woman!* Humm. Happy? Fun? Such foreign concepts to me! I needed to do some soul searching, and some researching.
Moving from a big city to a small town kinda limits your ability to "have fun" and "meet people" unless of course you like hanging out at bars by yourself (NOT!). Now, I am a firm believer that you can take two approaches to a less-than-pleasant past experience: 1.) you can be bitter about it, or 2.) you can take the good aspects and reapply them. I chose the latter. "Toxic-relationships-since-my-husband-died" #3 did have some good aspects *perception, bitches!, perception* like there are people out there who play music you like, at places where people gather, and maybe since the circumstances are different, it could actually turn out to be something fun?
By chance, I stumbled upon a local band which played music I liked *FOLSOM PRISON BLUES!!!!! Hey, now. I grew up on Cash. Don't judge* They were playing that weekend at a venue near me that happened to be a wine bistro (NOT! a bar). I got all tarted up à la pin-up style, we're talking high waisted pencil skirt, garter & stockings, mary-jane stilettos, fake eye lashes, red lipstick, and a big flower in my hair. *SIDENOTE: I truly believe I was born in the wrong era. Burlesque reiterated that for me and gave me the confidence I needed to proudly be ME in public .., and look smokin' hot doing it* Yep, you can imagine the looks I got when I walked in, my head held high, oozing confidence and sexy, ready to have *eek!* fun? and *double eek!* meet like-minded individuals? Could it also be possible that "happiness" -you know,happiness. That sneaky little bitch who's eluded you for so long- could be there too?

'Being Zen' #3: People who mind, don't matter, and people who matter, don't mind
Pairs nicely with: PBR! -"Pabst Blue Ribbon" for those of you not in the know. Yes, I realize beer is not wine, but PBR is a 'billy staple, at least for those who can stomach it and for those who can't shoot whisky *sheepishly raises hand* . Pabst is cheap, and usually always available in tall-boy formats. P.S. only my close friends are allowed to give me shit for drinking PBR, so STFU and no comments from the peanut gallery if you're a PBR hater!

PBR, bitches!

                                          
If you've stayed with me this long, congrats, you're a super trooper *meow* How 'bout we get to the really good part now? Going to see the local band at the wine bistro actually turned out to be a good thing. *Please keep the Martha Stewart mocking to yourself thankyouverymuch. I like her. Don't be a hater!*. For about a month I followed the band around to other gigs. One night, (huge thank you to the persistent old man who asked me to dance -and for some reason I agreed? Sooo not my norm! and wayyy-the-fuck out of my comfort zone) I ended up sitting with the wife of the upright bassist. Amazing woman and we totally hit it off. She took me under her wing -with my being new to the area and all- and made sure I stayed current with all the haps of the band. I always knew I had a place to sit and people to chat with when I went to the shows. Her husband -super sweet & one cool kat- always greeted me with a hug, thanked me for coming out, and checked up on me to make sure my homesickness wasn't too bad. Always a great time with them, however there was one night in particular, that, dare I say, was the catalyst to where I am today.

--Opening scene: Friday night. A sassy yet classy girl getting tarted up for her evening out. Lil' miss sassy & classy begins to narrate-- 

It was a dark and stormy night, the wind howled and the trees moaned ... uh, actually it was a calm evening and not "so f'ing cold" out like it usually was *SIDENOTE: for me, anything below 75 degrees is jacket weather* The band was playing down the street from where I lived, and that night was a really big deal... their CD release party! W0ot! I did my usual tarting up routine, but this time I opted to wear the Cuban-Foot stockings Ah, yes. Excellent choice. While getting ready, I heard a little voice in my head say: "You are going to meet someone very special tonight". My outside voice instantly responded with 'PFFT! yea right' I mean reading a book was one thing, but when you throw in "meeting someone special" that's a whole different story! I totally wrote it off, continuing about my business. I headed out, and of course, I get all the way to my car, and realize I forgot something. *Damn it!* I walk all the way back to my apartment and I hear that little voice again, saying the same thing. However, this time it was louder, as if someone was next to me talking. *WTF, over?* Something really wants my attention! I promise you, I'm not certifiable, but I do believe in a higher power and though normally I would be all 'Pfft! whatever' and shit, this was different. Like maybe I should pay attention? Ok. Fine. In my outside voice I responded, 'bring it!'. Pa-lease, I could care less if my neighbors heard me talking to myself. 

At the venue, I do my usual hugs & hi's, stand there & look pretty for some photo ops, then stand around, have a smoke, and shoot the shit before the bands starts. I glanced to my right and noticed someone walking up to us, hoodie pulled over his head, hands in his pockets. Now this big city girl's first reaction is to get the fuck out of there, but I just watched, paralyzed almost, as this guy stops, mumbles something, and leans up against the wall by us. *confused*  My amazing friend comes up, says his name and gives him a hug. Ah, ok. she knows him. We're good. I let my guard down a bit, finish my cigarette, and the next thing I know this guy is throwing a piece of paper at my face saying "come to the show". What??? Who the fuck is this jackwagon all up in my face? I graciously take the piece of paper, about to stuff it in my purse when I hear that little voice again say: "look at the paper". Ok, so this is like the 3rd time in as many hours that I heard the "little voice in my head" clear as day. I'm totally wiggin' out, and I distinctively recall possibly hearing the opening song to 'The Twilight Zone' ... I flip over the paper and realize its a flyer, for an upcoming show, with a band I remember from my past! Holy Shit! I know these guys! I start rambling on about how I know them, flyer-slinging jackwagon seems uninterested in my story, the band is starting, I head back in...

'Being Zen' #4: Listen to messages the universe is presenting to you (whether its a little voice in your head, or a flyer-slinging jackwagon). Show gratitude for the messages and more information will be revealed to you at just the right time.
Pairs nicely with: A well chilled Retsina. After a WTF? kinda day, you need some WTF? on your taste-buds to counteract the WTF? going on in your head. For my "non-wine snob" readers, Retsina is a Greek wine that, how do I say this, um, kinda tastes like drinking pine cones. But don't knock it before you try it. Google it. There's a good wiki out there about it. I don't think Urban Dictionary has a definition for it. Ok, so yea it doesn't and I swear I was only on there for like 2 seconds to type in 'Retsina', click search, and see no results. Retsina is yummy with baklava, BTW.

Yamas!

Well, boys & girls, this concludes Part I of 'The Zen of Being Zen When You're Zen'. I hope you enjoyed it. Tune in tomorrow ... or next week ... or whenever the fuck I have time to actually sit down, uninterrupted, and finish the rest. I promise, though, it will be wayyy before 3 years are up.