I am Fifty Shades of Mad

I went to see Fifty Shades of Grey and I am Fifty Shades of Mad. The truly torturous thing about this film is sitting through it. At face value, it’s a bad movie, with a bad story, bad characters, and bad dialogue. It’s not interesting, it has nothing significant to say, and it’s not even entertaining. If you think a film like this would at least provide truly erotic and daring sex scenes that will interest those viewers who showed up precisely to see those moments, you’d be wrong.

This movie is a classic, by-the-book description of a codependent relationship with an abusive partner. Except it’s portrayed as a titillating romance story, with the man portrayed as a brooding damaged abuser whose heart is warming and he just needs another chance and for a girl to try harder to understand him.

My personal hope is that a lot of fans watch this movie and come away with a new perspective on how terribly wrong the themes and attitudes about women really are.

Please know that none of my remarks are a judgment about BDSM itself, or of those who in real life participate consensually in such things. This is about the film, the portrayal of women and men, and the use of domination and control to manipulate and abuse — none of which I am claiming is necessarily inherent in S&M culture outside of this movie and its characters.

If you want to see bad acting, and a bad script just watch porn – at least everyone gets a happy ending

Feng Shui For Love

Love is in the air!!

Whether you are looking for a new relationship or want to rev up your existing one, listen in as we discuss some favorite Feng Shui tips for romance.

By giving special attention to this area, you will foster long-lasting and harmonious relationships built on mutual trust and unconditional love.

Feng Shui for love relationship and marital harmony is one of the most popular applications of Feng Shui, just in time for Valentine’s Day!

When: Sunday, February 8, 2015
Time: 3pm PT, 4pm MT, 5pm CT, 6PM ET
Where: Blog Talk Radio

Can’t make the live show? Not to worry, you can download the show and listen to it anytime.

 

A Ring

Through the smoke and across the tables we were taken with each other right from the very start. A chance encounter turned into an enchanted evening, and then a magical life. Our own private cliché. The sort of thing people don’t believe in anymore. Love at first sight.

Barry Cromer walked into the bar where I was having a beer and started busing my table. I looked up and knew I would marry this busboy. As it turned out, the bus boy was the owner of the bar and also the local surgeon in Ruidoso, New Mexico.

We got married, but I never got an engagement ring. Barry left his orthopedic practice in Ruidoso to move to El Paso because I was a shareholder in my advertising agency and couldn’t move. Barry couldn’t afford both a wedding band and an engagement ring since he was starting over. So he gave me the choice. I asked for a Pavé Tiffany wedding band that I have never taken off. Never.

The history of the engagement ring goes all the way back to when cavemen tied cords made of braided grass around their chosen mate’s wrist, ankles, and waist, to bring her spirit under his control.

Circa 2800 BC Egyptians were buried wearing rings made of a single silver or gold wire on the third finger of their left hands, believed to be connected directly to the heart by the vena amoris (vein of love).

In the 2nd century BC the groom gave the bride first a gold ring first to wear during the ceremony and special events, then an iron ring to wear at home, signifying her binding legal agreement to his ownership of her.

In 1477, in the first recorded use of a diamond engagement ring, Archduke Maximilian of Austria proposes to Mary of Burgundy with a ring that is set with thin, flat pieces of diamonds in the shape of an “M.”

And in 1886 Tiffany and Co. introduced the “Tiffany setting,” a six-prong ring designed to maximize the diamond’s brilliance by raising it up from the band.

When we renovated our 100-year-old house, I thought about taking off my wedding band as I painted the walls, but I didn’t. When the priest in the NICU asked if I wanted last rites for our daughter Catalina, I remember crying so hard I couldn’t catch my breath, but I held my ring and somehow that brought me comfort. When we were told that our son Sam was born blind I turned my back to the doctor, twirled my ring and thought of plan B. In our difficult times, times when we took suitcases down from closet shelves and stared at each other in anger, love was there and my wedding band was on.

A couple of months ago, Barry – out of the blue – decided it was time I got an engagement ring. So together, with the help of our dear friend Gina Silverman Smith, we designed a ring, which was made in New York.

I wanted the ring to look Edwardian vintage and Barry wanted to add some blue diamonds to remind me of his eyes. Gina suggested a cushion diamond to enhance the authenticity of the setting.

I finally got it, and I am over the moon. It is stunning. However, as gorgeous as the ring is – and it is – gazing at it I finally realize I will never need a ring to remind me of the love I have for my husband. I got lucky and married the love of my life and I will forever be changed because of the person he is and how much he means to me.

I asked Barry why I am finally getting an engagement ring after all these years, a ring which he now calls my “life” ring. He said, “I wanted to make sure it was going to last.” That’s my guy!

El Camino de Santiago

While preparing for the journey, you own the journey; once you step onto the path, the journey owns you. My friend Olga Mas and her friend Humberto Rodriguez, both attorneys from Miami invited me to join them on El Camino de Santiago, and I jumped at the chance to go on this medieval hike, a spiritual quest that others have taken for over a thousand years.

The Camino de Santiago, also known as Way of St. James or the Road to Santiago is any of the pilgrimage routes ending at the shrine of St. James the Apostle in the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Galicia, northern Spain. Tradition has it that the remains of the saint are buried there. If you are fortunate, the end also signals a new beginning in your life. At least it did for me.

As I walked the first day, I talked to others and I asked them why they were doing this ancient spiritual journey. Most said that they were at a crossroads in their lives, asking if they should get married, or divorced, or have children. Others said they came for health reasons, needing a healing miracle. Some said they walk for people in their lives who can’t; either for physical reasons or that they are no longer alive. So, I began to ask myself the same question. Why am I doing this? Why was I in northern Spain walking for over 17 miles each day? Up until that day I had felt as if I had been running away from something or maybe someone or maybe my life. My hope was that at the end of this very long expedition that I would feel like I was running towards something or someone or my life.

 Each road and path was marked with yellow arrows that supposedly mark the Camino. But they often failed at crucial points, because I didn’t always see them. I began to understand that our wanderings are metaphors for life, filled with wrong turns, dead ends, detours, being lost—and found. The poorly marked Way also provided numerous opportunities for me to rely on the generosity of strangers and the help of friends. I learned that we are all pilgrims and strangers on the Way of Life, regardless of our degree of faith or lack of it.

 One day as in a vision, I saw before me a grand panorama of people in movement, spanning the centuries, traveling across the outer landscape of Europe, traveling through the inner landscape of the soul.

Life slowed to a walking pace. Lessons and messages began appearing around every corner and reflection became an everyday activity.

I met other pilgrims and heard their stories. There was a sense of camaraderie among us. We were pilgrims sharing a journey, not excursionists or holiday-walkers. We were pilgrims participating in an ancient rite during which we were invested with sacredness. Townspeople offered us something to eat or drink or asked us to light a candle for them or to embrace the statue of the St. James when we reached the cathedral in Santiago. People thought our prayers meant more because we were pilgrims. We had embarked on a spiritual adventure, one filled with significance and gifts of grace. I was in good shape, but I pushed my body to the edge of what I thought it could do and to my surprise the edge kept moving. This was the most difficult physical thing I had ever done. If it was easy more would do it, and it would not be a sacrifice or a pilgrimage.

After almost 100 miles with bruised, blistered and bleeding feet we reached Santiago. The town was overflowing with ebullient pilgrims and as we pushed our way through the crowds to the steps of the Cathedral I was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude. What had I expected? I wasn’t even Catholic—so why would I have thought that arriving in Santiago would mean anything to me? I realized that it was the Camino that mattered. The pilgrimage had transformed my life. I had a new sense of myself, of my capacity to persevere, to push my physical and emotional limits. I had done things I would never have imagined possible. I slept in adult hostels where the walls were so thin; I could hear someone sneeze a floor above me. At any other time in my life, I would have bolted. But I stayed. I walked in the footsteps of my ancestors and in the beauty of Spain like so many have done over the centuries. And in the silence of my days, I began to hear the clear voice inside of me. I would never be the same.

The Camino will continue to reveal new aspects of itself as I delve below its surface, exploring its hidden meanings, its esoteric symbols, its inner teachings. I understand that I am running full throttle towards my wacky, often messy, always magnificent life-not away from it. I offered up prayers for all my friends at the pilgrim’s mass the last night underneath the gigantic swinging incense in the stunning cathedral. And I prayed for myself. And I thanked God for miracles. Because of El Camino, I now know, life is not about the destination and it’s not about the journey as so many say. Life is about the people that walk with you-beside you, and the guidance you receive along The Way. Buen Camino!

Muy agradecida, muy agradecida.

 

 

 

Being Your Unique Self

Every Wednesday night is amateur night at the Apollo Theater in Harlem. On one of these nights in 1934, a seventeen-year-old girl took the stage planning to dance, but the act before her was a dance duo that was so good that she felt she couldn’t follow it. So, while standing onstage, she decided to sing. It didn’t bother this girl that she had never sung in public, in fact, she didn’t even know if she could sing! That girl was jazz great Ella Fitzgerald. As soon as she stepped onstage, the core of her life awakened, and she sang the rest of her life. I had the good fortune to hear Ella Fitzgerald live in New York. Anyone who has ever listened to her understands that hers was a natural and unique gift coming from the depths of her soul.

To become your unique self-requires a struggle against the tide of sameness and false security of simply fitting in – that is a fight worth having.

To become oneself by finding a way to contribute one’s God-given talents and natural genius to this troubled world – that is a job worth applying for.

The goal in this life is not simply to succeed and “become somebody”; the real goal is to become one’s intended self.

The most revered figures throughout history became memorable because they were uniquely themselves. Nelson Mandela. Mother Teresa. Albert Einstein. Each had to first awaken to a vision seeded within them. People remember them because they managed to manifest a unique inner vision that had meaning in the world around them.

Each soul is rare. And uniqueness has boldness in it and a core of imagination intended to transcend the common attitudes and collective patterns. That is self-evident in great literature and wherever unique imagination has had a chance to flourish. It is also a key to understanding how mass culture has gotten things mass backward. When someone’s inner uniqueness is recognized and encouraged they will demonstrate something exceptional and unusual. They will bring a unique vision to contemporary issues and bring innovation where others would simply rather be complacent. Being unique is the spirit that is already there in each person, the inner intention, primary style and way of being that makes a true individual regardless of the pressure to conform to temporary social patterns and contemporary cultural fashions. At the individual level, each person is here to give something that is not just unusual, not only exceptional, but that is distinctive and valuable by its very nature.

The inner uniqueness for life aspires to meaningful work and genuine purpose. It would have us undertake the seemingly impossible tasks of transforming culture and helping to heal the world. Not because the world can be saved or redeemed in a hurry, but because it is the impossibility of the great problems and projects of life that awakens the sleeping uniqueness within and changes work from a simple job to a life-long, life-enhancing project. And that serves the dignity and nobility of one’s soul as well as the well being of one’s community.

At the end of life, the question isn’t whether people obeyed certain rules or avoided certain vices. In the end, the question is whether or not they found the thread of their inner life often enough to learn the destiny that brought them to this life, to begin with. To understand and embrace the qualities and talents that makes them exceptional and distinctive.

An old Chinese proverb says, “A bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a unique song.” Exactly what Ella Fitzgerald taught us on that fateful Wednesday night 70 years ago.

Michelle Cromer