28 = 2 + 8 = 10 = 1 +0 = 1 = Rebirth

My moment of rebirth began about two hours ago and so far, I feel blissfully peaceful. I hopped around a bit, clicked my heels and even let out a few "It's my birthday!!" cheers before my mother stomped on my midnight soiree by chiming in about me being twenty-eight, juvenile and unmarried. She also refused to kiss me or wish me stating that I was brought into this world at 4:40 am, which would make 12:00 am four hours and forty minutes too early. While the word ridiculous aptly describes my mother in this instance, I am willing to forgive her since she did carry my dead weight around for nine whole months. As well, at eight pounds eleven ounces, I'm not sure how she managed as I break a sweat toting my five pound Yorkie around the city. So, despite my mother's reminder of my current shortcomings, I shall rise above and continue to be zen.

Today, I am off to Las Vegas to lounge by the pool, brainstorm and fine dine. I think it's the perfect way to celebrate my new beginning :) It's funny because this overwhelming sense of ease and happiness doesn't leave much room for deep contemplation. Part of me misses being a little depressed, which I know sounds loony, but is true. I guess writing from a sad heart simply comes more naturally to me.

I thought a lot about blog topics and have even begun logging new ideas when they come to me. While not one of my favorite ideas, I thought about sharing a few of my recent disturbing LA experiences, but as my new mantra is to filter negative thoughts and emotions into positive ones, retelling stories about encounters with horrid Los Angles transplants (from Massachusetts I might add) seems counterproductive. I also don't know how much people benefit from hearing stories about the monsters living amongst us; however, I do believe that we should pray for these monsters in hopes that they become less monster-like and more at peace with themselves. As I told Ms. S. Furr this week, she must wish her monster well and say good-bye.

My friend Kelly shared the most wonderful horoscope with me, which I have posted below. She always forgets to provide me with the website information, but I will definitely update the blog with the appropriate citation as soon as I receive it. If you are lost you must read your horoscope on this site. It is eternally spot on and one of my birthday wishes is that what is stated below comes true:

"Leo Horoscope for week of July 23, 2009

Did life feel meaningless last week? Was your destiny a random sequence of events shepherding you to a series of different nowheres? Even worse, were you convinced that human beings are toxic scum? If so, Leo, get ready for your mood to shift drastically. The whims of fate are mutating. Soon, a source of curses may be a fount of blessings. Enticing leads will rise up out of the midst of boredom. Human beings will fascinate and teach you, and every day will bring new signs to draw you deeper into delicious mysteries."

I love the part about human beings fascinating and teaching me. [Sigh].

Anyhoo, I have to catch a flight in a few hours, so I must put myself to bed. Thank you for reading and Happy Birthday to me.

xx

R

4 Days and Counting

Since my last blog, my efforts to stop cleaning and start acting were unsuccessful. My parent's home functions as a giant vortex, which sucks up every last atom of Govindarajan excess. Unfortunately, it sucked me up too. It's like their home is a black hole smack dab in the middle of LA that when one enters they loose all sense of space and time. Scientists still have trouble understanding black holes, so try finding your way out of one when even light cannot survive its pull. Even when we were younger our friends used to say that time passes in strange ways when they come over. Our friends would stake claim on one of the guest bedrooms knowing damn well that chances of the leaving before curfew were slim. Mom and dad secure in the fact that they knew where their children were never minded the adopted. Over the years mom even grew accustomed to making meals for many knowing that without fail there would be at least one +1 stumbling down the stairs at any given moment.

So now, three weeks have passed and the eve of my year of rebirth is just days away. My struggle to find light in my moment of darkness grows less daunting as the date approaches, but alas, fear still resides. I ask myself every day where this fear comes from? I wonder where its roots lay and when its seeds were planted? I also long to know how I can stop these roots from growing. I am overflowing with positive energy for my loved ones and yet, cannot find the courage to reserve even an ounce of this energy for me. While I am far from rational, I am aware that my inability to believe in myself, my ideas, my success, etc... is a result of my own insecurities--I am the only one holding me back and the answer is to get off my ass and take action. I know I mutter much of the same stuff, but my hopes are that maybe, just maybe, the realizations I am making through this blog will permeate my thick skin.

Thankfully the gutting of my parents home has left me energized not weak. I think the ocean breeze also helped heal the last of my blistering soft spots. Oneness replaced bitterness and forgiveness devoured grudge. In all the years of yoga practice, I was able to clear my mind only once--I focused on the face of Lord Ganesh and my mind quieted immediately. Future attempts to call on the elephant god for assistance did not prove as successful, but through custodial penance my mind has found silence again. The silence while lonely is blissful. It is in this state that I have given birth to new ideas. These ideas seduce and taunt in ways that one cannot help but indulge. I think I might be on way or at least closer to being on my way finally. Cross your fingers for me or better yet, reflect some positive energy my way.

xx
R

LA Post #1: The Hermit Emerges

I underwent a serious withdrawal upon landing in LA. I became Leonardo in Basketball Diaries when he was locked in that room crying and frothing at the mouth as his body filtered his addiction. While I didn’t froth at the mouth, I definitely threw a few tantrums and made my sister cry--a kickback to my adolescence. On my way down, I went into a loony comatose clean freak state. You see, my parents define the word pack rat and I am your quintessential obsessive compulsive clean freak. My cousin says it's a part of my sign--Leos cannot stand disorganization, which is why we dominate in an effort to create order. So, instead of blogging or sending out my resume or better yet, crafting my brilliant million dollar business plan, I devoted myself to returning order to my parents overstuffed home. I know, I know, it's their dysfunction, not mine, and if they want to hold on to my brother's ten year old elementary school calenders or empty Turbo 16 boxes (Yes, I had a Turbo 16 player. Go Bonk!) than why stop them? I just can't do it though! To exist in a space overwhelmed with pointless excess makes me ill. It is exactly why I try to avoid sample sales and discounters as the thought of sorting through racks of rags to find one item that I already have in another color at 70% off gives me severe anxiety, which in turn does not justify the means. Regardless, being OCD is a disability that I can do very little to control and as such, my disability consumed me. What is most important though is that while I did devote my first week in LA to my parents, forty trash bags later, I have regained control and feel strong enough to write. (Hooray!) Surprisingly, I feel energized, and tomorrow, will begin my second attempt to start the healing process.

I don't miss New York as much as I thought I would and the lack of delectable food leaves me with no other option than to eat less, which is never a bad thing. The pros of the various amenities at my parent's home (i.e. the pool, elliptical and sprawling lawns) also make it hard to miss my concrete dwelling with nonsense childproofed windows in New York. One can breathe here and silence really is golden (OK, so what if tonight was the first time I really left my parent's oasis in the center of the city, but so what?). Currently, I am sitting at my father's desk with the windows open and am typing to the melodic sounds of birds whistling. It's 2 am for heaven's sake and the birds are singing crying babies to sleep. It's like a scene out of Snow White. Birds aside though, being here and recovering from my six day coma simply feels good. I can see clarity not as a mirage, but as a reality in the distant horizon. It also feels good to be able to communicate with the outside world again. One would think my parents locked me away in the basement the moment I arrived as I refused to communicate with anyone beyond the perimeter of the property. While I am not not exactly sure what sparks these bouts of hermitude, I am going to make a greater commitment to understanding and controlling them as I progress. Well, it's late. More to follow.

xx

R