12:12am, January 7th, 1998.

The most anticipated moment of my life, after 10 months of pregnancy and 17 hours of labor, my son was born. The tiniest, most intense, most amazing blue eyes I’ve ever seen met mine and we quietly regarded each other while the world kept spinning. Doctors, nurses, family members came and went, and we were oblivious, watching each other. He gripped my finger like his life depended on it. My breath and his synced for a moment, and I’m sure our hearts did, too.

My world changed forever. “Welcome to the world, Dru,” I whispered.

Today, he is eleven years old. The most amazing, whirlwind, exciting eleven years of my life, and I thank the gods every moment of every day for this kid. He’s my best friend, my sweet baby, my not-so-wee-anymore little man, my rapidly-growing-up son.

Happy birthday, Dru. May all your days be filled with light, may every pain bring a lesson, may every step take you where you want to go.

The way we interpret things, the lens through which we filter information, shapes our world.

We’ve talked about it before, but it’s so important it bears repeating. Our perspectives, filters, issues, and interpretations shape our experiences, our lives, and our worlds.

This weekend, Pace and I took a spiritual class wherein we sang several powerful chants. One of them says “There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.”

This morning, Pace and I were singing again, and she said that one was her favorite chant ever. I responded, “Wow, really? I hate that one!”

She was blown away. Unsurprising, since the usual error makes us think our partners (and everyone else) will love the things we love. We started talking about it.

To me, kneel is a loaded word. It means bow and be subservient. Kneel in front of your master. Evil overlords make heroes kneel to humiliate them. Given this interpretation, it’s not surprising that I don’t like singing about kneeling.

But to Pace, it was part of the phrase as a whole - which she interprets as showing honor and respect to the earth and to the divine.

Huh, okay. That makes it suck less for me, which is nice because this is a very popular chant in our spiritual environment.

Then she emailed me another interpretation: The way in which the author of the chant (Rumi) worships may be to kneel and kiss the ground, but there are hundreds of ways to worship and all of them are valid and awesome.

I resonate with that so clearly, so deeply, that it completely changed the way I feel about this song. I’ve had it in my head for hours and now I’m delighted instead of irritated.

I looked at it in a different light, and that changed everything.

So often, we get stuck in our worldviews. We forget that others are different and get really upset when we’re reminded. We have a certain way of looking at certain things, and we’ll be damned before we look at it differently. But if you tilt your head to the left instead of always to the right, you might find beauty where you once found sorrow.

You might find freedom where you once found chains.

You might find truth where you once found lies - or the reverse: you might find lies where you once saw truth.

It can go either way. Different perspectives, different ways of looking at things can help you or hinder you - but it will certainly change you.

And we could all use a little change now and then.

A long time ago, I learned that a simple, honest, heartfelt compliment can brighten someone’s day - even if that someone is a complete stranger. I started complimenting people I would interact with, even if the interaction was very brief, and the joy it brought me and the tiny connection it brought us was amazing.

Sometimes, it can be life-changing.

I had just realized my gayitude and was having a very late dinner in Dennys with a friend. A hot punk girl was sitting behind us, where I could see her but my friend couldn’t. After a while, the girl got up and went to the bathroom. When she returned, I hissed “Did you see her?!” at my friend.

The girl heard me. She stopped at our table, aggressive and angry. Hands on hips, she was shouting at me: “What’s your problem? Why are you talking about me and staring at me? You got a problem?”

I blushed crimson and whispered, “Actually, I think you’re very beautiful.”

She stopped cold, tears welling up in her eyes. “What?”

I repeated myself. We started talking, I invited her to sit with us. She poured her heart out to us; her father was being cruel to her, her boyfriend just dumped her, her best friend was ignoring her, she was considering running away, she felt lonely and invisible to everyone. She spent two hours or more at our table, sitting beside me, talking. She bought me a hot fudge sundae.

She left that night smiling, with a bounce in her step.

Her name was Jamie.

Sometimes, it’s cathartic.

“I love your earrings!” I said to the clerk at the grocery store.

She, as everyone does, reached up and touched them. “Thank you. My grandmother gave me these, right before she died.”

I’d just lost my grandmother, too, so we struck up a conversation about grandmothers. Hers had been cold and unfriendly until six months ago, when she’d gotten very sick. “It seemed like, knowing she was going to die, she needed to be nice to me or something,” the girl said. “After she died, she left me all her jewelry - which my mom said was a sign that she really loved me.” She struggled to keep her tears hidden.

She thanked me for listening before offering a sweet smile at the end of my transaction, and said she felt much better.

Her name was Kathy.

Sometimes, it helps in odd ways.

“Your glasses are really cool!” I said to the cashier.

She looked astonished. “Really?”

“Yeah, I love them.”

She touched them. “I just got them, but I’m not sure I like them. They’re different from my last ones.”

“They bring out your eyes and go well with the shape of your face… which is kind of an odd thing for me to say to a stranger, but there you have it.”

She giggled. “No, it’s great. Thanks! I guess I’ll give them a try for a while. I appreciate that!”

Her name was Mary.

Sometimes, it’s trivial.

“I like your shirt!”

“Oh! Thank you. I got it a few days ago - this is it’s debut appearance.” We both giggled, and I moved on.

Her name was Jessica.

Sometimes it goes mostly unnoticed.

“I like your earrings!”

She flashed a very brief smile. “Thanks. Did you find everything you needed today?”

Her name was Sue.

This is a constant for me. In nearly every interaction I have, I offer a compliment. Sometimes it takes me a few moments to find something to compliment, but I have yet to try and fail.

The rules are simple. Be honest. Mean what you say. Say it from the heart.

I’ve complimented all sorts of things, from clothing to jewelry to glasses, hair and eyes - once, I complimented a guy’s beard (it had little beads braided into it), and I complimented a girl’s announcer-voice when she paged someone for help.

Most of the time, these are short and pleasant little interactions that give me a moment of connection with people I’d otherwise never know. Sometimes, it’s important and life-changing, and sometimes it’s trivial. Often, it makes someone giggle or smile, brightens their day, makes them feel good, even if it’s for just a few minutes. I get eye contact from someone who would otherwise spend the entire transaction looking anywhere but at me, and I love eye contact.

It’s always positive - even those times it goes mostly unnoticed, it feels good to at least make the attempt.

I recommend it! Try complimenting people, honestly and from the heart, for a week. Clerks, cashiers, waitresses and waiters, whomever you come into brief contact with. It fosters a little connection, and more connection helps us all.

You know what I think of people who ask for forgiveness, not permission? I think they’re inconsiderate jerks.

How would you feel if your spouse borrowed your car keys without asking, leaving you stranded at home all day, and then apologized for it afterwards? I don’t know about you, but I’d think your spouse was an inconsiderate jerk.

How would you feel if your spouse cheated on you, let you know afterwards, and asked for forgiveness? Sounds like a pretty inconsiderate and jerky thing to do, doesn’t it? Wouldn’t it be better to ask for permission instead? Discuss what needs aren’t being met and how to make it better? Maybe figure out ways to improve the relationship as-is, maybe consider polyamory? By talking about it rather than acting first?

Okay, this is the end of the guest post from Bitchy Pace. We now return you to your regularly scheduled Pace.

I don’t feel like I’m going out on a limb by suggesting that it’s a good thing to be considerate of others. So why do so many of my friends swear by this mantra of inconsiderate jerkitude? (Or would that be jerkitudinosity?)

I’ve applied Miller’s Law and come up with two guesses.

My first guess is that they believe it’s a good thing to be considerate of others whom you respect. If, for instance, you don’t respect your parents, then just do whatever you want and ask for forgiveness afterwards. Don’t limit yourself by the rules of The Man. Damn The Man and don’t ask Him for permission. I can get behind that. Flout the rules if you disagree with them. Cool, more power to ya.

My second guess is that people apply it in a business setting and don’t carry it over to a personal setting. If your boss gives you permission to do something risky, she’s sticking her neck out on the line for you and she’ll take the fall if your risky venture fails. If, on the other hand, you just go ahead and do it, asking for forgiveness instead of permission, your boss looks good if you succeed and the risk falls entirely on you if it fails. That makes sense. It’s a symptom of a job culture that I think is pretty fucked up, but within that context, it makes sense.

What do you think of the saying “Ask for forgiveness, not permission,” and if you like it, what does it mean to you?

I promise not to call you an inconsiderate jerk. (:

Ever notice how “good” has become synonymous with “obedient”?

I took my cat, Phineas, to the vet a few weeks ago. When I picked him up, the vet and the nurse said to me, “He’s such a good cat!” They went on to tell me how he didn’t fuss or fight them and was very well-behaved.

Sometimes when Dru and I go shopping, people remark on what a good boy he is - he’s quiet and a little shy in public, so he tends to come across differently than he does at home.

This is related to fierceness, which we talk about a lot. Society has this myth wherein one must be complacent and obedient or one is labeled violent, and there’s no middle ground. But that’s stupid and wrong.

Fierceness is the middle ground.

You don’t have to be a doormat or a steamroller. You can stand in your power and hold your own boundaries without trampling anyone else, but we’re certainly not taught that. And it’s reinforced in the way we talk about our animals and our children - if they’re complacent and obedient, they’re good. If they whine, struggle, fidget, cry, or stand up for themselves, they’re bad.

If Phineas had fought the vet when she gave him a shot - if he’d attempted to defend his boundaries and protect himself - she wouldn’t have praised him or called him a good cat. More likely, she would have said he was a troublemaker or difficult. We do the same thing to our children. When a baby is quiet and doesn’t cry often, they’re referred to as a good baby, and vice versa, when a baby cries a lot, be it colic or grumpiness or whatever, they’re lumped in with the bad kids. If a child tires of being bullied and finally fights back, that child is often treated as the aggressor, even though they were defending themselves and their boundaries - often in the only way they know how.

Often, we justify boundary breaching with “it’s for their own good.” It’s certainly “for his own good” for Phineas to get a shot if he’s sick. It’s “for his own good” for Dru to take medicine if he’s really sick. But when they defend their boundaries, when they protest or struggle - that’s natural behavior! It’s not bad or wrong, it’s in our nature to defend ourselves against perceived attacks.

Getting a shot certainly seems like an attack, especially if you don’t speak the language of the shot-giver.

It’s also in our nature to protest when our state is out of balance. When a child has to sit still, it’s unsurprising when they get fidgety - but only the sitters get the praise.

I’d like fierce to mean good. I’d like to hear people say, “What a good cat! He defended his boundaries when he was attacked!” or “What a good girl she’s being; she’s crying because she’s hungry!” If we could shift our viewpoints when we look at our children and our animals, we could shift our viewpoints when we look at ourselves and each other - and fierceness would become commonplace.

I’d like that.

The other day, I was thinking about how nearly every alien movie I’ve seen involves the aliens coming to Earth and utterly destroying everything ever or making us all into mindless slaves forever until some clever humans figure out how to kill them or make them go away.

I hate this plot with a firey burning passion. If and when aliens come to Earth, they’re far more likely to do something completely alien to us because they’re aliens! Either that, or they’ll pity us or make peace with us or something. So I got to thinking, wtf? Why is Alien Rampage such a common plot device?

Then it hit me - it’s because of the usual error!

No, seriously! Throughout history, when Mother Culture Humans would find a less advanced civilization, they would utterly destroy it or make it submit to them. Native Americans could tell you all about that. So could the Druids, the Aztecs, the Mayans, Australian aborigines… and the list, sadly, goes on and on.

It’s such a common behavior, in fact, that many people think it’s “human nature”. (It’s not, but that’s a different post.) Since it’s that common, we make the usual error and assume other species would act the same as we do. And then that makes us afraid, because that means we are the less advanced civilization sitting pretty, ripe for the conquering. And thus, a horrible, overused plot device is born.

I think the other part of this pathetic plot is our egotism, which makes people think that only a vastly advanced alien race could be our downfall, but I’m sure you can figure out what I think of that.

Anyway, let’s hope those aliens won’t be so… human. What I really hope is that those who think it’s human nature to be pointlessly cruel or senselessly violent will eventually die off and the rest of us can greet the alien visitors with peaceful apologies for our past behavior and otherwise open arms.

Hah. Barring that, maybe we can at least befriend the aliens and they’ll share awesome technology with us before they make us all their slaves. (;

I used to love Torrid. But I think their marketers need to be fired and replaced with Seth Godin, or someone on his team.

A while back, I accidentally subscribed to Torrid’s newsletter (which is almost impossible to un-subscribe from). I get something from them nearly every day. Too much! It’s become spam, and I never even look at it anymore!

On top of that, they do this horrible thing: they offer me $25 off^*.

*a purchase of $100 or more

This is not a reward. Gah! I don’t feel rewarded at all! I feel like they’re trying to trick me! The “fine print” is way down at the end of the image-intensive email, buried in a bunch of stupid crap stuff I never read, so I nearly missed it the first time around. The second, third, fourth, and so on times, however, I searched it out.

The offer varies, but the catch remains the same.

If you are going to reward me, actually reward me! If you want to tempt me into your store, give me $25 off with no catch - or even just $10 or $5. This fake reward with a catch not only doesn’t bring my business, it pushes me away. I won’t buy from them anymore because I’m super irritated at the spam in my inbox full of fake discounts.

Another thing that really gets me is the fake “handwritten” thank you. Last year, we’d ordered from Mr Gatti’s Pizza some ten times in as many weeks. (We don’t eat that way anymore, thank the gods.) On our last order, there was a handwritten note that simply said, “We appreciate your business! Thank you!”

Sweet, right?

Well, had it been real… The very same note, in the very same handwriting, was on the second pizza box. I was perplexed - who can write every letter exactly the same twice? Waaaaait a minute! This note is Xeroxed!

Yup. A fake note of gratitude, made to look real. Come on, people. A little real gratitude for your loyal customers would be a thing to remark on, something to make us talk about your company and you for a long time, and something that would likely bring far, far more business to you in the long run. I mean, really, how hard is it to write a little thank you note, personalize it, and send it to every order for a week (once, on one box)? Not that hard - and I know! We just signed and personalized 100 books!

Torrid may worry that I won’t spend enough money there to make giving me $25 off with no catch a safe bet. But had they done so, I’d've spent far more than $25 measly bucks there by now. Maybe there’s a few shmucks who’ll go in and spend exactly $25, use their certificate, and leave having spent not a single penny of their own money, but by and large, customers will go in and spend at least $50, because that’s how much a single frigging shirt costs there.

No catch, big benefits for your company. Put a catch on there, and not only do I not feel rewarded, I feel cheated. Bad move.

This time of year, a lot of us are spending time with people we see rarely and interact with poorly. I don’t know about you, but I’m getting awfully tired of hearing aunts and uncles and cousins remark on how grown up I am. I’m 30, fer crying out loud. I’m grown. Give it up!

I’m also getting tired of people assuming I’m exactly the same as I was when I was 10. I’ve come a long way in the past 20 years, and even further in the past 12 months, so not only does this assumption make their view of me completely inaccurate, it’s also offensive to me because it so heavily implies stagnation. I know you haven’t done any self work in the past decade, Aunt Melda, but I do it all the time, so stop assuming I’m still into Fruit Loops and footie pj’s!

In this situation, I’ve found that it’s really important to start over from where you are now. I think a lot of us have this desire to go back to the way things were, but it’s not helpful and often makes those sticky assumptions even sticker.

If you start over, you get to be who you are now, not who you were then (whenever then is for you). And who you are now is strictly better than who you were - because it’s you. Right now.

This is true for relationships as well as family. If you and your lover have a huge fight and things change, wishing you could go back isn’t going to help. It’s harmful, in fact, because it blinds you to the reality of how things are now, and now is all we’ve got. If you don’t like now, then the best thing to do is change your now. However, focusing on the way things were is natural and not wrong. It’s okay to feel however you feel whenever you feel it.

So if (or when) you find yourself in a situation that’s causing you to wish things could return to a previous way, think on it. Spend some time with those feelings, see what you’re missing, and see if you can find a way to have that now. Start over with all the knowledge and experience you hold within yourself now - what an awesome advantage.

You need to be the change you want to see in the world because without us, there is no change in the world.

We are all one. No, I really mean it. Really really, right now, right this second. We’re all gods, we’re all stars, we’re all dust, we’re all bits of the same soul. We create our universe. Our paradigms and our self-images shape our world, and if we shift those, we shift the world.

Real life is Mage. I live in a world where “superbowl” is a weird word with no meaning and doesn’t get capitalized. I live in a world of positivity. I live in a world where I can get what I want and what I need because I know I can get it. I live in a world without harmful, manipulative relationships because I chose to put a stop to their existence in my world. I live in a world surrounded by people who know me and love me for who and what I am, not for who and what I’m not. In my world, buildings are built with magick, roads are paved when no one’s looking, faeries dance, dragons still breathe fire, unicorns are still in the world in secret places, and I have rats as pets, even with cats.

We give our power to higher divinity because we’re too terrified to claim it for ourselves. We siphon it off in spoonfuls, big and little, to everyone around us because oh man is it risky to own it, to stand in it, to revel in our power. But that higher power, that divinity?

That’s us.

There is no god and we are all god. There is no higher power and we are the higher power. There is no magick and we are all magick. We are they are he is she is we are. We are the wind, the rain, the pebbles, the ocean, the earth and the Earth. We are the mother and the father, the grass and the desert, all creatures great and small. We are each other, I am you and you are me.

I have statues on my altar, symbols of my faith. Now I grok them - they are symbols of me. They are the bits of divinity I see particularly in myself. That gorgeous Gaea, with her full belly and her skin covered with animals and ocean? That’s me. That strong and brave Artemis, with her bow shooting to the sky as she Hunts? That’s me. They are me and I am them. I put my power into them because I was afraid of holding it myself - but that power is mine.

I am the Chosen One because I choose myself.

And you know what? I choose you, too.

I wrote a guest post for Alex Shalman called 10 Ways to Improve Your Happiness by Changing Your Vocabulary.

It was an interesting experience to write in a style that was a hybrid of mine and Alex’s. Collaboration is fun. (: