ORIGINAL BLISS

Numinous Sunday Experience

 

 

Driving through the hills, on my way to manage chaos, allowing the smooth soul of James Morrison to seranade me.

"I got one life... one life... one life... and I'm gonna live it right."

His lyrics lick both spirit and senses.

Along the ridge rain clouds begin to bubble under the sunshine, signs of the percipitation that's to come. I feel the same, welling up right along with them; bouyant with happiness and deep peace, yet at the same time pierced deeply with a sadness that saturates me with unshed tears. I am both completely contant and overwhelmed by lonliness.

"I got one life... one life... one life... and I'm gonna live it right."

I think about writing. I think about Aislen. What she would do with clouds such as this in one of her many alternate realities.

Would she sweep them away so she could bask in the sun?

Would she tickle them with her fingertips and paint their raindrops across the sky?

Or would she gather them in an embrace and hold them, allowing them the downpour they crave?

"I got one life... one life... one life... and I'm gonna live it right."

A big rig slowly begins to pass me, blocking my view of the clouds.

First, I see the "R", capital and blue, shouting from the side panel. Then an "E" pulls along beside of me.

The truck gains speed as it overtakes my car.

Or maybe I slowed, knowing.

As the truck pulled ahead its message came fully into view.

"WALKER" on its side panel. "WALKER" on its doors. "WALKER" on each one of its 18 massive mud flaps.

"I got one life... one life... one life... and I'm gonna live it right."

The rain came.

And I am not alone.

Shannan

We live in the fiction.

Reposted from shannansinclair.com

A Temper Tantrum in Blue and Gray

Hello old friends and readers. It has been a very long time. Way too long for me, that's for sure. 

The goal was to stop everything else and just focus on writing my book. I thought it would be a good diversion - to keep my head engaged as I maneuvered my way through the wreckage of my life. But now I do not think that was a wise choice. By sticking my head into the fiction of my novel, I lost touch with the reality of my heart. I ignored my emotional voice.

Blogging, art journaling, and journal writing have always helped me keep my inner space spruced up. It forces me to look at the emotional clutter and make decisions about what to do with it. What is this about? Can I get rid of this now? Can I move on? Can I transform it into something beautiful?

Needless to say, without that outlet, my innards are lookin' like holy hell.

I thought it would be so nice just to shut out all the pain and suffering... to come down with an amnesia that blocks out the memories. But if they aren't really dealt with - YOU ARE DOOMED TO REPEAT THEM!!!!

Ah yes... and that was the inspiration for my posting today. I was tootling along on cloud 9, really happy about the progress I have been making in my recovery from a disastrous relationship. Thrilled to be meeting new people and doing new things. EXCITED about the possibilities and the future.

But underneath that glam and glittery surface.... eee gads! It is dark and murky and slimy. EW.

And all that denial, grief, anger, and confusion - feeds a monster. And then when I least expect it, it surfaces and spews that nasty crap out her blow hole.

Yeah... she's an ugly bitch.

So, in order to slay the monster, I have to starve her out. I have to, like really, get to work. Stop denying the pain and grief and anger. Stop trying to hide it all in the closet and under the bed, so I can look "pretty" all the time.

And while I do that, I am going to start balancing my novel writing with a little play - some finger painting, some scribbling, and some temper tantrums in blues and gray.

Okay.... and maybe some pink, and green, and bright golden yellow!

Namaste,

CHEZ

 

 

 

First Peek: Dream Walker

Now that the dust has settled in my life, I am back to REALLY finishing my book. The climax and finale chapters are underway as you read this post.

 

Because I am planning to e-publish it - to generate interest - while I search for an agent/publisher, I have also started planning my marketing strategies, designing covers and preparing a web site. 

This whole novel writing endeavor is arduous. Although the idea for the novel came to me almost 7 years ago, I didn't begin truly gestating it until November 1st of last year. By the time I finish, I will have carried this puppy for 9 months. I am fascinated at how the process is almost exactly like being pregnant with children. 

The uncontrollable eating.

The unbearable anxiety.

The sleepless nights.

The heartburn.

The hemorrhoids.

I can't wait for the damn thing to crown!

My beta readers and I have narrowed the book cover design down to the final two choices. I wanted to give all of you a sneak peek and an opportunity to have a say in which one you like the best. It has basically come down to the font.

Dream Walker is a quantum fiction novel about a young woman who unwittingly stumbles into another dimension and witnesses a murder. What she believed was only a dream, she soon discovers is a reality, and she finds herself in danger of being hunted and eliminated by the people in control of The Stratum.

Please leave a comment as to which cover you prefer! Soon, I will be posting some sample chapters to whet your appetite as well!!!!! Fun! Fun!

Namaste,

C H E Z

Book Cover Photo  ©DepositPhotos / Stanislav Perov

Sanctuary

Home Sweet Home.

A space I don't have to leave to feel like I am away from it all!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Namaste,

C H E Z

Motion and Stillness

The move is complete.

I am in my new place and it is such an awesome space! A real sanctuary. A house of glass that lets in the dappled sunlight and views of lush vegetation that surround the property. A fountain bubbles outside my bedroom windows and birds flit in and out of the courtyards.

I love it so so so so much! 

It has been so much work: the planning, the packing, the heaving and hefting, the loading and unloading, and finding the perfect places for all the crap I have acquired over 43 years.

Add to that the emotional baggage and bureaucratic processes of a divorce...

I have been so busy I haven’t had time to really think. Or really feel.

I had a moment alone last night. Kelsea was at work. Mattea was with friends. It was just me, alone with my thoughts and my feelings.

When the busy stops, I grieve.

Not over the loss of the person, because when I am with him, I feel alone ~ which is more frustrating and disappointing than actually being alone.  

No. I grieve the loss of the IDEA of love. I grieve the loss of the fantasy I built my life around and upon. I just propped up the reality of the relationship on the ideals I desired and called it so.

But it was like a pretty teacup. It looked good on the shelf, with its trips and events, but when I tried to drink from it, it held nothing to quench my real thirst. A pretty, empty, cup.

So I am creating this new space, a new cup, that I fill with positive, fortunate, and abundant changes that I can drink from and actually be sustained.

Namaste,

C H E Z

 

Oh Momma - My Mother's Day Gift From Mattea

Lucky me to have a daughter to serenade me with such beautiful lyrics and voice.

The lyrics are sooooooo appropriate and uplifting to me during this time in my life.

Thank you Mattea! YOU are a gift.

Oh Momma by Justin Nozuka

Give me that line again-
He's not coming home again tonight
Momma wipe those tears from your cheeks
It don't make no difference now
Remind me one last time that you won't ever go
Oh the whales can't swim without the tide,
And birds won't fly without the stars in the sky

I can't feel without your touch
I can't dream without your smile
I can't live without your love (Oh Momma)
I cannot fall without your hand
I can't cry without your arms
I can't live without your love (Oh Momma)

Give me that song again,
Hold me closer than you ever did before
When I've given all I'll give you more
We'll keep on floating to the shore
You can take a storm and turn it all around and then the sun shines through
Oh the story of your life
We have all been designed
but you're as real on the outside

I can't feel without your touch
I can't dream without your smile
I can't live without your love (Oh Momma)
I cannot fall without your hand
I can't cry without your arms
I can't live without your love (Oh Momma)

See when it all comes back around
And he still can't figure out how he let you get away
You just keep your head up high
And know it's better off that way

Namaste,

C H E Z

Shannan's Prayer For Today

Dear Divine Alpha/Omega, All That Is, Whatever That Is,

I am contacting you today to thank you ~

for my anger ~ for the rational, slow burn of outrage I hold within me.

Anger really gets a bad rap down here in the second, lowest dimension from Hell. It's labeled as "bad" and forsaken for a fake, happy-go-luckiness even though we are miserable.

Recently, I have discovered anger to be a glorious thing - indeed, a gift! For it has provided me with the fuel I need for change. It has mobilized me past the constraints of fear and into action.

Thank you for every reminder: for every stupid, crazy, aggravating thing that makes me want to slap him upside the head. Each moment of insanity reassures me that I am doing the right thing.

And thank you further still for restraining my hand ~ because I sure as hell don't need that kind of drama - though he so righteously deserves it.

If you could also please help me in keeping my tongue to myself. Though it would be gratifying to cut him to the quick with some well phrased jabs, that would only keep me engaged with him and diminish me. May my talking, and blogging, about him behind his back bring satisfaction enough.

Thank you, too, for showing me that "Til death do us part" meant when the relationship kicked the bucket.... not when I did. Though I performed every lifesaving measure known to relationships, nothing could resuscitate it. Thank you for telling me to bury the damn thing already, because its putrid carcass was starting to stink up the place.

Please let me hold on to resentment as long as I need ~ to stave off regret. Allow the resentments to remind me that I never, ever, ever, ever, ad infinitum (ever) want to go back into a relationship that was that destructive.

BUT when it is time - when it is no longer useful - help me to release it, because I don't want to end up a bitter, old bitch, either.

And I shout HellYeah!Lujah! Thou hast provided me with a sense of humor. Although others may find my wit irreverent or inappropriate, it surely saves me. And I am so grateful!

Namaste,

C H E Z

 

In A Perfect Storm... Perfect Peace.

"Ethereal" Mixed Media Collage, National Geaogaphic Art Journal Series, Shannan Sinclair

I consider myself a pretty strong person. I mean, don't we all see ourselves in that light? After all the pain, heartache and suffering that we go through, when we come through at the other end of it, don't we think, "Damn! I can't believe I made it through that!"

Well, I have a confession. Sometimes.... I don't feel that strong. Oh, I may look like a B.A.M.F. who's got the tiger by the tail. But when I am alone, and trying to hide under my covers... mmmm not so much.

Sometimes, the pain is agony.

Sometimes I feel utterly alone and completely broken.

But I have also experienced something A-M-A-Z-I-N-G in that.

There have been several times in the past couple of months, where I have been in those moments. I have nothing left in me. No fight. No spark. Empty.

And in the very moment of the deepest dispair a strange and perfect peace embraces me, fills me and refreshes my soul.

Just when I think - I can not go on any further... I am restored.

Namaste,

C H E Z

Follow Your Heart - OR DIE!!!!!

So I watched Oprah today.

I don't usually watch Oprah. I have nothing against her... I just don't like sappy, overdramatized, preachy things. I like authenticity. And although she preaches authenticity - it doesn't feel authentic to me.

I want REAL. Like, really really REAL.

I like my sunshine with some clouds...

my flowers in the dirt...

I like my tears... not to be a pretty, little well-up with one sliding down my cheek.... I like tears with snot and sobs and black, mascara eyes that leave a salty rind encrusted on my face.

But I watched Oprah today, featuring Tom Shadyac, the director of Ace Ventura, Bruce Almighty, Nutty Professor, who gave up the so-f-ing-rich-and-successful life, for a REAL one.

It hooked me. It touched me. And it reminded me of several things about myself that I have let go to seed.

I haven't been living my purpose. I know my purpose. I yearn and crave to be fulfilling it. BUT I continuously put it aside and give my energy away to purposes that are not from my own heart. I get distracted and off-track.

Oprah said today.... "Each day we live not doing our heart's desire... we die a little."

That resonated with me. I know that little inkling of death. I feel it when I close my eyes at the end of a day that I have been completely out of touch with my soul's reason for being.

So I am putting a little Posty on my bathroom mirror that reads - "Follow Your Heart - OR DIE!"

Every morning... as I floss my gums... I will repeat it in my head and go into my day following my heart.

Namaste,

C H E Z

The Shannan Show - NOW PLAYING!

Does it ever feel like the Universe is playing games with you?

Or is it just me?

Sometimes I feel like I am living in a Cosmic Sit-Com and the Higher Power and all Its minions gather round to watch....

Boy, do I make them laugh!

It especially feels that way when I think I have it all laid out ~ I got myself a plan ~ I'm dedicated ~ I'm following through ~ I'm on a roll!

That must be boring and predictable - a real yawner.... so the Great Scriptwriter in the Sky writes in a shocker. The celestial order gasps in surprise and tunes in again tomorrow to see how the kooky, comic, protagonist handles it all.

"Just Married and Happily Ever After" doesn't keep the audience engaged for very long. Write in some major drama. "Husband Goes to Jail" - "Husband Loses Job" - "Family Loses House" - "Court Battles" - "Real Ex Wives of the Trailer Park" - "ADHD and PTSD" - "All That and a Bag of Rancid Ruffles!"

Way. More. Interesting.

When I am finished writing my current book.... oh yeah, the little divorce the Divine Mastermind wrote into the soap opera called My Life ain't stopping me.... I am going to write an autobiography.

You'll laugh.

You'll cry.

You'll get really pissed off.

And I'll win an Oscar just for being in the race.

Namaste,

C H E Z