CHAPTER 39

How Not to Get Stung by the
3 BIG BEES:
Bitches, Buzzards & Bozzos,
Oh NO!

   Of my many trips through the Carnivals of Camouflage, I've made one primo discovery:

   The senseless showdowns and situations I still stumble into just add to why I accept the verity that no matter how much we evolve and de-stress our lives, no matter how much we clear our heart and head of needless emotional clutter, Utopia Beaming doesn't happen. Our world does not automatically become an anxiety free Nirvana.

   Face it. The media gets rich by insuring we shall always be worried, fear-filled and anxiety ridden. As do all the legal drug pusher companies.

   If we are not stressed … they lose income.

   I figure it's because our personal evolution has nothing to do with the growth choices that others make. Emotional maturation is a solo samba and it doesn't mean others will want to dance our steps. Just because we clear our heads and hearts of the need to control others, does not mean others will cease wanting to control us.

   No matter how deftly we clean our slates we will still be faced with Bitches, Buzzards and Bozzos eager to chalk us up on their Victim Score Boards.

   So, too, with righteous bigots, avenging in-laws, back stabbers, jealous others, gossip stokers and the rest of the world's meanargerie.

   I must say, the quantity of Buzzards in my life has greatly decreased as I've realized that I neither have to be liked by everyone in order to be likable to me, nor do I have to like everyone — or even pretend to. That's the good news!

   The great news is: the Bitches, Buzzards and Bozzos no longer have the ability to swoop and destroy us once we realize they need our followship more than we need their fellowship and approval.

   We also diminish the possibility of the BBBs distressing us once we dump the martyr programming that's fueled from past abuse and stoked by the Fear Fleas telling us: No Pain, No Gain and self-love is contingent on others' approval.

   We grow with the flow once we dump that program by not giving others the right to turn our search for happiness into an arbitrary bumper car rally.

   I built my force field against the Big Bad Bees with a multitude of ingredients, such as:

1.    I acknowledge that their putdowns, jealousy, bigotry, or anger rarely has anything to do with me directly, other than by me becoming a scapegoat and/or audience for their fears. It helps to remember that when the BBBs have us in their sights, we're rarely a significant target — merely a handy one. With that in mind, it's easy to fly away.

2.    I dump the ego blinders when I accept people as they are without the need to change them to suit my vision or needs. I then see if they choose to be manipulative, insulting, rude or crude, or if they get their jollies at my expense. I know I can change channels and cite Walter Cronkite by saying, “Well, that's the way it is!” — for them. But not for me! Without the need to judge others as right or wrong, detachment from being their target or audience accelerates.

3.    I accept the Truth that the BBBs always believe they are right for themselves — as do we all. By understanding this, the force field against their infecting my spirit is energized. Thus, I also see that just because I don't have to love everyone, does not mean I have to hate them either. Ergo! The easiest way to insure self-sanity is to simply not play the games that stress us.

   I now know that whether a slur is flung from only one Bitch, Buzzard or Bozzo or a whole convention of 'em does not make their angry vote or criticism count on my ultimate Karmic Credit Card.

   This reminds me of when I worked in the shock city called New Orleans, the place where even their posters boast The City that Care Forgot! Everyone I met referred to black people as “those niggers”. Many took open pride in their KKK membership and repeatedly told me not to be shocked when they voiced their comments within earshot of nearby black people. “No problem”, they said, “those niggers know their place.”

   They belittled my inclusion of black kids in my fine art collection of children's paintings, telling me how stupid I was and how I was killing my marketability. They rationalized that from the bowels of their bigotry: “Ya'll just look how many of us there are against one of them. So, we gotta be right.”

   True, I was a Lone Rangerette with them, but did that justify their bigotry as honorable? It did to them.

   Knowing at that moment when I was trapped in a racial crime warp that I couldn't wage a one-woman war in their conscience-less territory (to me) against their Bozzo beliefs (to me) as they (to them) felt perfectly correct.

   I realized that their fear/anger had deafened their hearts and stupefied their consciences. So I sped through my project commitment that I was legally tied to and then sped outta town.

   Had there been the tiniest fragment of thinking it was an honorable goal to be liked by everyone, that trip sure wiped out that mistake with a pivotal wake-up eraser!

   That heart-quake episode also enhanced the notion to always of: consider the source.

   As I reflect on those who served me their distressing feedback when I shared knowledge of my past, I now realize their attacks were borne of ignore-ance, malice and personal fears. And, not coincidentally, the slurs were solely issued by gold card members of the BBBs.

   Their reactions heightened my sensitivity to the horrid feedback rape victims endure from the large segment of our society that delights in flaunting sexual bigotry and uses the handiest weapon to feel superior over another.

   Whenever I hear the comment that an innocent victim of rape “asked for it! Or probably enjoyed it, so what's the fuss?”, I know the request of Send in the Clowns was heard.

   I also met several guys who, as Les, sought to use my twice divorced status to maintain their supremacy and control of our relationship. They struggled to make themselves right by focusing me in the wrong light.

   They even rationalized that their lengthy string of unsuccessful relationships didn't count against them because they were never legalized. However, since mine were legal, they felt they had just cause to wield their Guilt Guns shooting “YOU're The FAILURE!” Bullets.

   My defence was to Duck 'em, Discard 'em and Dash for the loving cover of my good senses.

   I recall a memorable clash I once had with a very manipulating possible mother-in-law-to-be who used my honesty with her regarding my kidhood and past marriages as a way to destroy her son's new relationship with me.

   I was under the spell of thinking she truly cared when she said, “Tell me all about your past, Honey. I really care.”

   Blinded by her well disguised pie baking, homey facade, I did not recall that this was also Les' bait.

   I deafened my GUT Buddy's advise to “Pull back!” as my heart was still in search of a real live family to love and be loved by.

MEANING:

By ignoring my theory of Harmonium, by not exploring the whole setup I was entering, by wanting my family dream to be their dream, I asked to get heartpooned.

   And, my request was rudely granted.

   In rapid fire time, armed with knowledge of my past, she launched a campaign to shitwreck the heartship her son and I were beginning to navigate — all based on her judgment that what I endured in my past had to automatically make me unfit woman/wife/mother material in her eyes.

   After the early hypnotic spell of believing it was OK to let down my caution shield, I was devastated when she voiced my kidhood nightmare, and said, “Your mother abused you? Well, it's probably what you deserved! After all, mothers just don't hurt their kids for no reason! And, no woman can lose her own daughter, so you probably asked for that, too!”

   When those bullets hit like a snarling cat outta hell, I was overwhelmed — but not for long.

   After I recovered to consider the source of her anger and fear, I was able to avoid getting suckered into playing her war games. I sensed where her battle actually originated.

   Her smear campaign, that in the past would have surfaced my every hidden fear, simply became just one more example of those who feel they need to destroy others publicly with Hurt Ammo in order to win their own private conflicts.

   With this woman, I realized I asked to be ostracized as I was not controllable as were her other sons' spouses.

   Ignoring the fact that her other sons married gals from rich families, she even called me a “gold digger!” for knowing her son. Even though I agreed I was a gold digger in that I was looking for the gold within her son's heart, she persisted in her illusions, despite the fact that her son was emerging from a nasty and expensive divorce and homing in a tiny apartment over an alley garage when we met.

   We spoke different languages. And, based on the obvious signs that we were working from two opposite fact sheets, I ceased communications, or it might have become one of my greatest experiences in Dueling Dreams!

   She wanted a rich controllable daughter-in-law. I wanted an open minded, non-judgmental and loving family. Neither of us could fulfill the other's dream.

   The more I made a conscious effort to detach and watch the anger, fear, desperate lust for love and obedience from her adult kids, plus all the emotions that motivated her un-sporting tactics, the more my inner strength emerged. Not to clash — but to pass.

   Although I never shared my observations with her, I thought her comment that I was a “gold digger” to be quite ironic. I knew of her very wealthy upbringing in Europe, with nannies, servants and social/political clout. In her early 20s, she met her husband-to-be during the war, and they were soon married with plans to move to America.

   Based on her influential background, when she heard her husband was in the banking business, she assumed he was the president and/or owner of the bank.

   That mirage was shattered as soon as they got to the States. When her first foot landed on reality, she learned her hubby was not the CEO but a modestly paid teller.

MEANING:

No servants, no social clout — no gold.

   Ergo! She just may have accused me of being a “gold digger” through the mirror of her own reflection.

   That clash caused me to vow: When caught in a situation setup to harm, humiliate or control my life and self-esteem, my greatest bastion was: My boots were made for walking.

   I realized that even the worst reactions I got from my honesty were valuable — if I didn't get suckered into them, if I stayed far enough above them to see the golden ponies hiding there somewhere. And once I espied, I sprinted!

   Her battle caused me to thank God I never became her slaughter-in-law. She served a great lesson in the hell hole I could trip myself into by viewing any possible mother-in-law-to-be with an open hearted closed eyed perspective.

   By hoping a possible mother-in-law could be THE mother I dreamed of would be an acid-in-the-I blindness. It would deny my seeing the full picture of whom I was dealing with so as to see only what I wanted to see. And! I already knew what a killer that was with the men I knew.

   My setup with that woman caused me to finally stop trying to cast a Mom in my life. She forced me to see how much I might be inclined to sell my soul if I pursued that winless goal. Besides, I realized I did have a mom. True, she wasn't popped from the Donna Reed cupcake mold, but who is?

   I now see that my mom was functionally perfect for my spiritual needs. Through her actions and non-actions, I discovered my strengths, talents and ultimate freedom because I chose to let my past serve me in that positive manner.

   Heck! Without my past, I couldn't write this book!

   In fact, I'm now sure that every BBB I ever met, served very healthy food for thought, though they might turn over in their grieves if they knew.

   By keeping my eyes open (my 3rd eye too!) the quicker I was able to detect if another prepared to declare war by stockpiling their arsenal comprised from my openness.

   Conscious self-honesty toward seeing it like it is sure speeds the time wasted in seeking an entrance into a heart that's pre-locked.

   With that potential mom-in-law, I now realize my initial reaction of hurt and shock was simply a replay of my old kidhood script.

   That's why, at first, I took total responsibility for her rudeness, her behind my back attacks and her cowardliness in never confronting me face-to-face with her fabricated gossip rags.

   At first, I racked myself trying to please her while asking myself, “What am I doing wrong?” Then I woke up.

   I realized my “wrong” was straying into a bitchy battle ground ruled by a very angry manipulator fearing loss of her kid-control power. And the only way I'd win was to walk.

   OK. How do I now overcome the BBBs? Simple.

   I understand the BBBs are self-limiting. By not energizing their own lives for loving evolution, they trap themselves into the fear of needing others to insult and incite; needing others to be subservient to them so as to give their own life jazz and incentive.

   Whenever I hear a BBB is gossiping about me, I think:

    Lord, how bored she must be to need me as a focus. How limitedly she must be viewing her life if she needs me to fill her daily time card, as time is the most expensive commodity we have.

   Detachment helps me not take flack-attacks personally.

   Rather, I take the attacks as a sign of the person's self-caused frustration. Then I thank God I'm not that bored and I get on with my life. After all, the BBBs don't need me to plow their gripe vines, they're doing fine on their own.

   I figure anyone who wants to believe a gossip, who wants to glean something negative against another, will accept the BBBs' flack as fact. Not worth worrying about. Those who don't, won't. It's out of our control.

   Ergo! I Let Go, Go Forth and Grow For It!

   As for Dora, that woman I spoke of in Chapter 24, the one who called to dump her views of “niggers” on me, well, she was simply a typical Bigot Buzzard as she wasn't bitching directly about me, but to me. Ergo! I had the right to state my case and hang up, which I did.

   Since I could not change nor rearrange her attitude, nor was I meant to, I chose not to battle with her. THAT would have been a nutso waste of time.

   So! When faced with a Dora frame of mind, I tell it as I feel it, not as I think they ought to think it. If they don't like it and leave, I wish them peace with their opinions and conclude: See ya in Karmaland! Guess God's gonna cast the final vote on his one — not you nor I!

   Waking up to the reality of Harmonium has insured my serenity with not only knowing I need not be liked or loved by everyone, but that I need not care whether or not I am on another's Bitch, Buzzard or Bozzo list. After all, one person's Buzzard is another's Baby. So too, one person's Beloved is another's Bitch. It's all relative to what we want to see and be, and totally out of our control.

   Acknowledging this has caused me to accept:

Copyright © 2004 by Krystiahn