When Did Life Turn Into A Game Of... " Whack a Mole?"

Self Portrait from Nina Warners Class 2011 "Peevish"

"I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping While my guitar gently weeps I look at the floor and I see it need sweeping Still my guitar gently weeps" ~George Harrison

Please do NOT give me your life notes on Karma...I love you, but PLEASE don't. (Wow! Now that was really hard)

I am not in bad mood exactly....more like cautious.

Life is roaringly and ferociously in session and I am hanging in there…hanging…hanging. My nails are dry and chipped, my body is torn and what is left of my brain is boiling in the fear that my wet-tissue-paper-like-existence will blow apart at any moment.

So this is the bad side. The “Mole” is up and I have got my little bat out ready to whack the little bastard. But the “Moles” are increasing in number, so my body strength and my little bat (that was once so reliable) are cracking, like my nails. I t hink it is about time for a new bat.

So what do I call a bat these days? A Solution

1) No more dumping Problems on friends, family, the cashier at the grocery store (I have been taking hostages all over town…yuck!) or (as she chokes back tears)... onto my son.

Yep I have I committed the fiercest sin of “over sharing” about my life and my troubles to my son. Look I know this is bad. And I know that by “outing” myself here it may help remind me and maybe whoever reads this, how crappy it is to dump my worries on my son. I need to “curb my enthusiasm” in expressing the details of my sorrows to my son. They are not his worries, they are mine and this is what therapists and sometimes sponsors are for.

Wow! I need to make a “bat” out of rubber and put some blonde hair on it to remind me… To just DEAL with it do not dump it!.

Whack! There goes one hairy mole!
The ego driven notion that I must get everything off of my chest is really nuts. Sometimes we must live with our thoughts and feelings until they distill into a solution.

Time to chop wood and carry water.

2)Modify* Everything! Now that I have lost 30++ lbs I need to “Slim Fast” my house. I am throwing away all clothes that are a size 12 and over. If I plump up again…I’ll buy new clothes. I am not exactly a hoarder. I am more like a “save it for a rainy day” kind of “saver”. I just need to get RID of the crap. All kinds of crap. The “extra-large-super size” consumption I have taken on as a “side addiction” has caught up with. I have maxed out my credit at the karma bank and now life has presented the bill. And trust me kids; there is always a bill! So all excess is being expended.

Whack there goes another mole!

And there she blows! Sure as I start this project of refinement and clarity…the money train snaps off the track and I am (for the moment) penniless.

One Mole up!

Still I am ahead. Two moles down and one up.

Always Bake Great Cakes for the ones I love

3)Groceries! Before “Eat, Pray, Love” called Julia Roberts, “groceries”- I was lovingly know as “groceries”. I bought and cooked LOTS of groceries. Too much of everything. And I ended up wasting a great deal. Which I feel now is a sort of “planetary sin”.

Now I am experimenting with a culinary whimsy. I am cooking the fridge, every day. I add things as needed. Bits and pieces. One ingredient at a time. Good things, good quality in small amounts almost daily. I have tiny kitchen, a tiny fridge...and I still cook for twenty. Memo to self: "Must exorcize the chef at Waffle House from my soul.

I used to cook for friends after nights out drinking and I realize now, I am a natural Budget Gourmet. At a party last Century, my friend the Adorable and amazing Broadway Actor and my Sons Godfather, Glenn once said:"Darlin' you sure can work some groceries". When I was a drinkin' gal I very often would open a friend or two's fridge and whip up many tasty delights. I have been conjuring that old ghost-witch-cheffy and "making due". Cooking "the fridge" as it were. Here is a funny gem: Using some bits of baguettes leftover. I simply buttered a pan and coated hunks of baguette with browned butter, heating the oven to 500, topping the hunks of bread with Gorgonzola (a heavenly STEAL at Trader Joe's right now!) Buy the "hunk" not the crumbled...more vein-age in the hunk...and this makes for a tastier fromage’. I toasted the cheese on the bread. Finishing with caramelized onion, chopped Macadamia nuts and Italian Parsley. (Italian Parsley is just a few cents more and the flavor is bright and prefect!) The boys loved it as a starter! Trader Joe's makes an insanely wonderful and colorful assortment of handmade Ravioli: Lobster, Carbonara, Truffle, Mushroom are all big faves and at $3-4 a package it’s a great deal. Sauce: Sauté chopped garlic (don’t buy the stuff in the jar. Enjoy the fun of slamming the virgin cloves and chopping them up! You can dream of your EX’s “tid-bits” finally coming under the well deserved blade!) Add chopped onion to the butter with a dash of EVOO...add slices of the long sweet red peppers (TJ’s 2/$2). Add Chopped Macadamias and reduce. Add a dollop of sour cream or cream cheese and finish with a splash of milk or cream and finish with chopped Italian Parsley. Accompany the pasta with a crisp salad of Romaine lettuce, left over herbs, green onion, Italian parsley, basil and more of the long sweet red peppers. What can I say...for price/flavor/quality and choice...TJ's rocks!) I topped the salad with a homemade balsamic vinegar/EVOO dressing. All told my out of pocket was, $12. Sweet!

Never skimp on good ingredients. The best stuff used moderately always goes farther and costs less. Cheap is just cheap and we ALL deserve the best we can afford! Always buy good organic butter, good Olive Oil. Just keep it simple and good! Bon Appetite.

Whack another mole hits the dust. The mole called gluttony! * Buy what you need and eat what you buy! Whack! Whack! Whack! (Wwweeelll….shucks! He needed it…that little Jihad-Mole has been on my tail for a LONG time.) You know it's true…you know the size of my bum! (or my past-bum) I was about to apply for a license as a portable heliport!

4) Restraint! So I know I mentioned some practical types of restraint already. But the principal of restraint more than anything refers to the brain. The brain is a muscle and you can contour thoughts just as you may contour your waist. If you do certain exercises daily your brain will be in better shape. Thoughts and feelings are NOT Facts. My friend Randy milled that little idea into my brain when I first got sober because I can create a DRAGON, faster and better than anybody…out of nothing.

So how do I practice restraint? For the last week or so I have been forced to be still. Two ribs dislocated and were sitting on a nerve and I could barely breath. The slightest movement would cause excruciating pain. My most feared bodily reflex was burping. Seems you have to expand your entire rib cage to burp and this would in turn cause me to scream. And then feet could be heard bounding upstairs. And there was my son or my fiancé’, panting, red faced saying, “What, what, what?” I had to be so still, it was scary...and then... I looked around. I saw my huge Temprapedic bed as a kind of island I had landed on. I had to be REALLY sure if I wanted to go to the bathroom and my son was my life raft on these occasions, escorting me to and fro. He was distressed at my screams for the first 8 hours and then my little burst of sound became common and more a sign that I was alive.

I watched from my island bed as my life passed by me. I looked at the mess and the clutter and said prayers to the goddess divine, God, my guiding angels and the angels of some really good housekeepers and organizers. I prayed and wept and wept and prayed. Then came an answer, “Lizzy…Lizzy…LIZZY…cut the crap sister! And throw the stuff away! You need a clean, clear space for us to work. Soooo little missy if you really want your life back. Stop cluttering it up so you can’t see it.”

It took almost a week for me to be able to do any chores, so I started small. Re-folding laundry and looking at exactly what I have and what I need. I came to the most embarrassing conclusion: that while I have been shrinking, I have been shopping. The size range in my wardrobe is from 14 to 8 and even a couple of 6’s just for giggles. Slowly I have made my way through my cedar chest left full of size 14 clothes in 2003 fashion. (Blech!) Despite the dismal look of the now musty clothes, I had to restrain myself from the impulse to “keep things just in case I plump up again”.

This self-restraint became an active meditation. And then the strangest thing happened it was like hearing the tumbler in a lock long forgotten. I heard the words… ”Let be. Let go…just do what is right in front of you…do not re-direct or manipulate…every thing is exactly as it should be and you just need to step back on the path. You need to remember: You are not anyone’s…daughter, mother, sister, wife…You are your own person. They are not you and you are not them. Just let the divine light you know and love, call you back and stay in that light. Just let the universes guide you. It is time to repair and re-dress your nets. When sailors cannot go to sea, they stay ashore and repair and re-dress their boats and nets. This is the time to stop and heal.”

Top Hat at The Santa Barbara Court House..and my son even showed up It was lovely,easy...FREE**



July 13 at 7:30pm, UCSB, Campbell Hall AND

July 15 at 8:30pm, Courthouse Sunken Garden



July 20 at 7:30pm, UCSB, Campbell Hall AND

July 22 at 8:30pm, Courthouse Sunken Garden



July 27 at 7:30pm, UCSB, Campbell Hall AND

July 29 at 8:30pm, Courthouse Sunken Garden



August 3 at 7:30pm, UCSB, Campbell Hall AND

August 5 at 8:30pm, Courthouse Sunken Garden



August 10 at 7:30pm, UCSB, Campbell Hall AND

August 12 at 8:30pm, Courthouse Sunken Garden



August 17 at 7:30pm, UCSB, Campbell Hall AND

August 19 at 8:30pm, Courthouse Sunken Garden



August 24 at 7:30pm, UCSB, Campbell Hall AND

August 26 at 8:30pm, Courthouse Sunken Garden


Whack! The mole of insecurity and lack of self worth was buried in a bunch of “stuff!” In the end, all of the prettiest things in the world will not make a sick soul shine. I will uncover and practice self-restraint in all things. Restraint in pen, tongue, acquisition and manipulation. Let my self be. And just be.

My son and I at Heaven on Kauai 2011

5) Oops! I did again. So this mole is one that vexes me. When did I start crying so much? I think I have played the menopause card till it is like a several-times-over-washed-bus-pass. I cry…all the time. Sooo maybe some folks would say: “Well a little crying ain’t so bad. I wish I could.” Okay. It is true it a great way to diffuse energy and bless and release. But it kinda starts looking like the boy who cried wolf when people are editing their thoughts and feelings for fear they might make you cry. EW! No I mean really, EW! I am a weeping Jezebel. Oh yes!

Look I gotta get a little real about the water-works in my head. This is not “Tears For Sale” (Great film 2010 Eastern Europe) No! This is hard little mole to whack, because I have actually “made” money for crying. I was in a production of Carol Churchill’s play, “Cloud 9” and in the second act I had a scene where I had to cry for about five minutes. And I ain’t talking about Scarlet O’Hara’s pitiful whimper! No I mean seriously billowing weepage! Buckets!

An Homage to Gloria Swanson...a grand weeper*

So this is about awareness and authenticity of the expression of emotion. These tears are not for sale anymore. I am practicing and I think achieving an ability to just not give a sh__.

If it ain’t cancer, it AIN’T CANCER. It is life and life beyond the veil of my tears is not going to kill me. Sometimes I think I “express” pain, to avoid pain. So the mole about self-centered mushiness is getting a whack. And this mole will ALWAYS be an long as I have breath in my body my emotions will be my challenge. So now my mallet is rubber and waterproof.

Okay so at this point I believe that the game of “WHACK A MOLE”…Never ends. The mole is likely to root and dig and…make another hole. Most likely an ego driven somethin somethin, only now my whacker is rubber-resilient and aware.

Favorite Meditation Spot : Casa de Maria

I don’t hate moles. There just doin what they do. I just have to learn not to let them control me. Stuff happens. Something settles and another thing pops up somewhere else. And if my brains in shape and I am keen, aware and strong than perhaps I will just be able to let the mole be.

And that may just deflate his ability to mess up my yard or my life. Just look the little sucker right in the eye and say, ”yep I know your there…but hey …whatever it is…it won’t kill me.”

Unless it does…and then does it really matter?

Heaven in Kauai*2011

***“Pools of sorrow waves of joy are drifting thorough my open mind Possessing and caressing me

Jai guru deva om Nothing's gonna change my world” ~ John Lennon***

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