>Okay, so according to my last writing post, a blog where I share my writing process, I said No More New Tasks. But, I have got a gripe.  I’ve been told I am a slow processor, so my gripe may seem stale by now, but if it at all matters I was displeased with this when it happened, but didn’t feel I needed to write about it- until now.

Here is the Gripe.  I have been watching Oprah for many years.  I enjoy her show.  It’s interesting.  And I used to LOVE Oprah’s Favorite Things.  But-   this year I was disgusted.  I checked in with myself- am I jealous because its been so long since I bought a favorite thing for me?  No. I am not jealous.  I’ve changed, and thank God, and thank me.

What brings the bad feeling to my soul is how she begins the show.  She, dressed in a dark robe of some sort, set dark, tells the audience they are going to spend time in meditation. “How many here meditate,” she asks?  Barely a hand.  The crowd is silent; the crickets chirping metaphor as I’ve never seen or heard.  Then, O in all her enthusiasm, says, “Meditate on this!” and pulls off her “robe,” the dark back-drop curtains are lifted, artificial snow begins to fall, and a sparking array of holiday props and a shining Oprah in red appears.
IT’S OPRAH’S FAVORITE THINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Medics on the scene in case people collapse.


Yawn.  Then sadness and disappointment. Good-bye meditation, remembering your sprit, silence and hello-again- materialism, egotism, and saturation in the superficial.  O says it will be a long hour. I’ve seen several favorite things shows, and this one whizzes by in some manic, frenzied way; extravagant gifts, many with the Oprah signature label, being whipped out one right after the other.  There was no space to revel in the graciousness of the giving- if this is indeed the intention.  And if one show weren’t enough- here is part two.

Ugh. Put it to rest already.  It is safe to say, I’m done. I’ve had it.  I’m just not into it.  Don’t care about the things.  Don’t care about celebrity. Don’t care about status or fitting in or looking wealthy or living like a queen (although I did feel quite at home at Windsor).  Just don’t frickin’ care.  And this is what is happening, isn’t it? We have been saturated, absolutely saturated in the glitz, the gold, the glamour, and straight up artificial living.

When I was a little girl, my dad took me trick-or-treating. I dressed as Cinderella, wearing a hard, crinkly, plastic mask, my little eyes poking through the cut outs and an elastic band around my head. Not long after I put it on, I take it off, look at my father and say, “I just want to be me.”

This morning my mom asks, “What do you want for Christmas?” I JUST WANT TO BE ME, mom. Just ME, without the mask, the glitz, the gold, the glamour, the artificial living.  This is my favorite thing. ME.

We are the gifts. Not the shit.  It’s us, and always has been.  The rest, interruption.  Destruction.  Illusion. Stupidity.  And I am anxious and frustrated on some level, enough of us aren’t ready for this awakening. Maybe it was the crickets chirping when Oprah mentioned meditation.  It bothers me. It really does.  It seemed like it might have bothered her too, as she said a few times how good it is for us to meditate.  In my opinion, it’s too late Oprah- the euphoria of gifts and more gifts shut up that holy moment- quick.

Our journey to being who we truly are will not come in a pretty package. If it did, we’d all be wrapped up in it, immersing ourselves in the process.  Instead this journey just is, awaiting our conscious return.  The path to follow for our conscious return is within.  Go there. Go there now.  The only reason needed- we are here in this moment breathing.  We don’t need an expert to tell us. We don’t need a catastrophe to bring us.  We don’t need someone else’s favorite things to do it.  We don’t need to wear Tory Burch flats to be invited to it.  All we need is what we already have- ourselves.

I hope I have offended some, but inspired more.  Either way thanks for hearing my gripe.  Now, let’s get out of our gold-chambered slumber.

Today’s Soul Tip:


Be you. The rest will come. Why? Cause its been there the whole time and so have YOU.  

Namaste,
The Soul Reporter