Crazy Bitch Remover, please

Is there a product out there like that? Bitch Be Gone or something?
Something to energetically remove the bad vibes I just got from this crazy bitch I just encountered?

I thought I was safe. I know how extra sensitive and open I am after receiving a massage. But I thought I'd be safe going into the health food store in Anacortes. But as soon as I walked in the door, I heard her ranting about some woman on a cell phone and how rude that is. I should have turned around and walked right back out that door. But no. I stayed away from this woman for as long as I could, but then I wanted to look at the B vitamins. She was standing right next to them. I didn't want to say anything, out of fear of her reaction. So I just sort of snuck in, slid by, to grab a bottle off of the shelf. And suddenly her eyes were up from the book she was reading, big and wide and angry and on me. "Excuse me," she said, with major attitude. And then she started going off on some rant about manners and personal space. At first I bit my tongue, but then I told her that I figured I'd have disturbed her more by saying, "excuse me." Well that set her off even more. I thought she was gonna hit me. Again, I had to bite my tongue. It was so tempting to get into it with this lady. As peacefully so as possible on my end. But I was still in this altered state from my massage and somewhat afraid this woman might turn physically violent; she was already verbally and energetically there. So I retreated and got the hell out of there. Not super disturbed, but disturbed enough.

So as I walked to my car, I wondered if there was some sort of product, a spray, like an aura protection spray. And actually there is. I have a bottle of it. It's called "Cloud of Protection." And I'm going to go use some right now. And then maybe go for a walk to let the wind cleanse me.


© 2009 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Letting Go (of me)

We hear it all the time. Let go of this. Let go of that. Let go of him. Let go of her. But what about letting go of ourselves? What about loving ourselves enough to let go of self-imposed limitations, habitual ways of thinking or seeing ourselves or being? How about loving ourselves enough to just let go, to live and love freely? How about trusting enough to feel safe and supported in opening up and revealing both our strengths and vulnerabilities?

Last night as I was driving back to Anacortes, I was listening to the radio and heard some song lyrics like, "I love you enough to let you go." And that got me thinking about love and attachment and detachment and letting go. Actually, I think I was already thinking of those things. But hearing this song somehow took my thoughts in another direction.

I started thinking about self-love and feeling worthy of love and what that looks like. And that's when I heard these words in my head: "I love myself enough to let myself go."

Is it true? Do I? Last night they were just words, just an idea. But tonight, they turned into this question. As I was walking around the marina a little while ago thinking about this, I saw an image that I had seen on Friday: hands wrapped around my lower spine.

On Friday, during a CranioSacral turned SomatoEmotional Release session, this image came to me. They were not my hands. They were large, strong, manly hands belonging to some god-like being or angel perhaps. They had been there since my accident, holding me together, protecting me from feeling pain. So the session turned into an opportunity to let these hands know that they were no longer needed, that what was once helping was now hindering, now harmful. They were slow to let go, but they did start to fade. And tonight when I remembered this image while thinking about loving myself enough to let myself go, I heard the question: "Do you love yourself enough to let yourself go?" And with that I crumbled. Momentarily, but powerfully. Stopped in my tracks to shed a few tears. Feeling some fear and sadness but also gratitude for this illumination, for this reminder to step this self-love and letting go thing up a notch.

I actually have been loving myself up and letting myself go more and more over the past several months, more so than ever. But what would it feel like to let go even more? What would it look like and feel like and be like to love myself enough to let myself go more completely, to trust enough to release any remaining overprotective mechanisms that go against my greatest good? And as I ponder that, I see those hands fading again. I see myself crumbling again. But not because I need those hands to hold me up. But because I don't. And that release brings relief. I feel my body soften and sink, and I see myself crumble in sweet surrender. I see myself rise back up, stronger and more open than ever.



© 2009 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

why i love her

i don't love my gramma just cuz i have to. i don't love her because without her i wouldn't be alive. and i don't love her for making the best rice pudding, meatballs, pineapple cake, and smores on the planet. i love her because of what she's been telling me the past few years.

when i moved to sedona in the fall of 2005, that's when it started. she turned into this ultra-supportive wise woman, encouraging me to do what i love, live it up, be happy, etcetera, etcetera.

"growing old isn't for sissies. do what you want now, while you're still young. have fun. do everything you can now."

prior to this, i don't remember her being that way. most of what i remember her saying was either worries over the state of the world we're living in or worries over what she was going to feed me when i visited.

today i called her. it had been several months. i like calling randomly, not for any special occasion. but the last time i called was for her birthday in may, i think. and today, in addition to the above messages, she also said, "sometimes a good relationship is better than a marriage. what do you think?"

well, i was a little speechless. and smiling. but also wondering if i should be disturbed, wondering if she was saying that because of her own marriage. i didn't tell her that one of the main reasons i got a divorce was because i didn't want to end up like her. i love my grandparents, but their marriage is not one that serves as a good example.

so i just tell her, "yes. sometimes a good relationship is better than a marriage. and i don't know if i'll ever get married again."

and then she surprises me by saying something like, "look, becky, you can do whatever you want. what you do with your life is up to you." and the way she says it is so pure and supportive. i see it written here and recognize that it could come across as negatively. but it wasn't like that. it was beautiful.


© 2009 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

if this wig could talk, i'd have to get out the duct tape

I'm sitting on my couch brushing out my wigs, even though I doubt I'll be wearing any of them this weekend. You never know though, and they've been boxed up for a couple of years, so very much in need of some untangling.

This third one I start brushing out brings a smile to my face. She's been used the most, mostly at Halloween with my Little Red Riding Hood costume, the costume I had decided to retire this year, but am now tempted to throw it in my car just in case she wants to come out and play this weekend when I'm down in Seattle.

I smile as I brush through this matted wig, as I remember someone else wearing it. A fuzzy memory towards the end of a wild night in Bellingham a couple of years ago. I'm left speechless, or rather typeless, as I remember that night. And then I remember another night, the night of my moving-to-sedona party in 2005. The photos from that are in a folder titled "blackmail," appropriately so. For the sake of story-telling, it's sort of too bad that I'm so respectful of the privacy of others involved in those nights. But perhaps some stories, some experiences, are better off remaining private. Perhaps sometimes it really is best to "keep it to yourself." And that's why I don't blog more often. I hate censoring myself. So sometimes I'd rather just not share at all....


© 2009 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

a not so meaningless hobby

i think i once posted an entry explaining how i came up with the name of this blog. a dear friend shared a michael brown article about the new year, something about the importance of having a meaningless hobby. and so i started this blog. i suspected that the meaningless hobby would become meaningful at some point. perhaps that's the whole point of a meaningless hobby.... i think so.

so now i think about changing the name, but i don't, at least not today.....

(hey, sasha, thanks for the "kick ass blog" suggestion months ago; i just might use that when i'm ready to make the change! ;) )


© 2009 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Do you see what I see?

Do you see what I see?

Do you see my scar?

Do you see the horrific images I see, the memories of riding in, and crashing in, that car?

For most of my life I couldn’t see beyond the scars. I couldn’t look at my body with love and acceptance. But that started before the accident. That started with some of the kids I went to school with who told me I was fat. Looking back, I wasn’t. At least not at first. But I sure did become so, for several years. And then, right when I was getting in shape, BAM! Car wreck. Body wrecked. Injuries. Surgeries. Disconnected. Not wanting to see. Unable to feel.

It’s not until 10 years later that I start getting back into my body. I left it the night of the accident. More than once. And continued this for years. Coming and going, but mostly going and rarely coming back in fully and deeply enough to stay and heal all that needed to be healed.

Sheng Zhen Qigong started getting me moving more, opening my heart, healing the disconnection. Feeling happy, so disgustingly happy for the first time in years.

Continuum Movement came next, bringing me more and more into my body, waking it up more and more. More to feel. More to experience. More to discover. More to release. More fully alive.

And then Ecstatic Dance comes into my life. It came so recently, but feels like a lifetime ago. So much more has opened up, shifted, changed. For the better. The best time in my life is now.

And so this past summer, the summer before my thirtieth birthday, it finally happens. I see myself without my scar. Instead of a scar, I see a tree with a snake wrapped around it. It’s been painted, or rather magic markered on me. And this body art, this drawing allows me, for the first time in 13 years, to see myself without my scar. For the first time in my life, the sight of my body makes me jump up and down and fill with glee.

And then something else happens. I see beyond the tree and the snake. I see my scar. I see me. And although I don’t jump up and down, I do smile. I see the beauty. I feel at peace.

I’m sick of hiding and covering up and over-protecting this body of mine. It’s time to let it all hang out, so to speak. Time to release this captive body. Time to release the stories as well, which is partially why I’m sharing this picture and this part of my story here. And this little piece of writing doesn’t even do justice to this story-- it’s just the tip of the iceberg….There’s so much more to it. Not just in terms of my own story(ies), but in terms of trauma and body image and society and the body and sexuality and love and self-acceptance and on and on…..

Book in progress...

….yes, 200+ pages already written….So close to finishing, yet so far away…..It’s tempting to stay home all weekend and write and edit and edit and write. But I’m off to Seattle again to celebrate my body. Body Electric workshop, here I come!

© 2009 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Instead of Reston, part 3

Instead of Reston on Saturday, I rested. Slept in, ate breakfast, slept some more. Hibernated. It was pouring rain, and it felt good to stay in and not do much. I didn’t even write. I thought I would. I thought I’d spend at least a day just focused on writing during these days of vacation at home. But no. And eventually I got off of my couch, out of my pajamas, into a cocktail dress, and out the door to attend a “formal attire” party down several blocks away. It was fun. I met some new people. I met a woman who said she sometimes just stares at my ad’s picture in the Clamdigger; she said it’s so inviting. And she wasn’t hitting on me. And she assured me a few times that she wasn’t stalking me. We had a long conversation about career transitions and CranioSacral Therapy. It was good. After a couple of hours I left, unsure of whether or not I’d go to the Jazz Walk again, knowing I needed to go home and check in. And when I got home, I knew it was time to get back into bed and sleep again, and so I did.

Instead of Reston on Sunday, Reston came to me. Reston came to me in the form of a new man in my life who happens to be from there. What a strange coincidence. And it’s only one of several synchronicities and such that have come up while getting to know this man over the past couple of weeks. Sharing the same birthday is one of them. I’ve never met anyone ever with the same birthday. Everywhere I go and everyone I meet, all types of relationships provide mirrors, but spending time with someone who has the same birthday as me takes the whole mirroring thing to another level. So if astrology is b.s., well then, I don’t know how to explain…. Maybe just more coincidences and synchronicities regardless of birthdays? Maybe just a heightened awareness and seeking out of such things? Who knows. Doesn’t matter. But it sure is interesting. And fun. And easy. And rich.

And instead of Reston on Monday, I thought I’d go to a movie in the afternoon. But instead a friend came over for a little healing touch. I thought I’d go to a movie after she left, but instead went out for hot chocolate with another friend. And we ended up discussing what it might be like to collaborate on a workshop or two, combining her life coaching programs with my Sheng Zhen Qigong instructions and some guided meditation. Very exciting. And then I thought I might go for a walk, but instead just walked a few blocks to the library to check my email, and on my way there got a text from another friend who was at the library and wondering if I wanted to go for a walk. YES! So in the flow. Funny to see my three main Anacortes lady friends all in one day, one after the other. Funny that I still haven’t made it to the movie theatre since my first attempt on Thursday. I’d say maybe today or tomorrow, but one of the things I’ve learned by not going to Reston is how to stop planning— no, no, that’s a lie! Too extreme. I’m not there yet. What I’ve learned though is how to observe those ideas and plans passing through my head while being open to something else arising spontaneously, organically. More authentic. More full and in the natural flow of things.

And now I’m off to Seattle for a couple of days. Although I do have an appointment today and two appointments tomorrow, I actually have less planned out for Seattle than usual, and it feels really, really good…..


© 2009 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.