Ms. ZigZag

ZigZag’s July Treasure Newsletter

     
“Live life fully while you're here. Experience everything. Take care of yourself and your friends. Have fun, be crazy, be weird. Go out and screw up! You're going to anyway, so you might as well enjoy the process. Take the opportunity to learn from your mistakes: find the cause of your problem and eliminate it. Don't try to be perfect; just be an excellent example of being human.” – Tony Robbins

“People rarely succeed unless they have fun in what they are doing.” – Dale Carnegie

The Topic: The Questions that will make or break your entire life

The right question is 1000 times more effective than the right answer. After all, if you’re not asking the right question how do you know that particular answer is what you need?

This is especially true when it comes to your internal dialog because that little voice in your head talks every given minute. We have about 85,000 thoughts a day, and within these thoughts are internal questions. When things aren’t going EXACTLY the way you want them to go, you might find yourself asking the wrong question, which is why you’re not getting what you want.

Do you find yourself asking things like:

• What’s my problem?
• Why won’t this work?
• What’s wrong with me?
• Why am I so insecure? fat? tired?
• Why am I  broke? Why am I in so much debt?
• Why isn’t my business doing better?

These are the WRONG QUESTIONS. All these do is give you all the right answers about the wrong ideas. These questions will only produce answers that tell you what’s amiss and emphasize your problems.

And get this: the number one difference about successful, happy people and unsuccessful, unhappy people are the questions they ask themselves (you can define success in any way you like.)

SO HERE ARE THE TWO QUESTIONS THAT WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE

(drum roll)

#1 “How can I make this fun?”

You might be thinking that “not everything has to be fun,” but really is that true? If everything we did had some element of fun in it, wouldn’t you be better at it? Wouldn’t you be healthier if there was an element of fun in what you’re doing? Wouldn’t you feel more successful in life and have better relationships?

Billionaire Richard Branson, founder of Virgin Records and Virgin Airlines stated, "I've never done anything in my life to make money. I just always ask myself, 'Is it going to be fun?'"

Fun can be relative to different people, but say you have a temp job that sucks. You’re bored and have 8 hours of data entry. If you asked yourself the question, “How can I make this fun?” You might put on headphones and listen to your favorite music. That might prompt you to be happier and you might feel better and have more energy after work. That extra energy can help you find a better job. Or say you’re in a crappy relationship. If you asked yourself, “how can I make this fun?” You might try a relationship counselor or coach, you might ask your partner out on a date, or you might just get the guts up to leave and find a better relationship.

#2 “How can I make this work?”

After you’ve established how to make things more fun, you might want to ask, “How can I make this work?” For instance, instead of asking yourself why you are not making enough money, you can concentrate on ways to make your "fun-direction" work. This helps you focus on success rather than focus on lack. You might decide to change careers, raise your rates, or get support from friends or coaches.

The Way to Try It

Print out this sentence on a BIG FREAKIN PIECE OF PAPER and tape it to a wall you look at least once a day:

“How can I make this fun?”

I guarantee you that if you ask yourself this question more, and answer it, AND follow the ideas that come to you  - you will be wealthier, happier, healthier and more attractive.

Have a FAN-tastic day!

Warmly,

ZigZag

www.coachzigzag.com

ZigZag attracts people from around the world who value excellence and are searching for a fun way to explore deeper meanings. A successful writer, coach, and speaker, ZigZag offers one-on-one coaching (via phone or in person,) group coaching, and consultation.  Her passion and keenest talent is educating and inspiring her clients to find their true genius and teaching them proven skills to assure them a lifetime of achievement.  Her specialty is working with “alternative-everything” and out-of-the-box thinkers. She is also a blog consultant and award winning poet. To find out how ZigZag can help you discover your true passion, build your business, and/or help you become a rock star, check out her site at www.coachzigzag.com . Or give her a call at 971-409-6718.

-- 

Dude, have you seen my truck?

Apparently there is a black tundra (or something similar) that is driving around Portland with the license plate : "ZIGZAG"

I would love to meet this dude, or dudette. Could be scary, could be fun.

If you know this truck, or have spotted it - let me know. =)

Rest comes in strange places: The Alvord Desert

Last week we drove 9 hours and landed at the Alvord, a desert lake bed surrounded by 9,000 foot snow-capped peaks.  Sunny. 90 degrees and hundreds of miles from any metropolitan area. I was surrounded by friends, lugged in a few cases of Pabst, couple of bikes, buffalo burgers and all the fixin's for camping for four days.For me it doesn't get much better than that. (scroll down for video and click here for flickr pics.)

If you're not familiar with it, the Alvord is an amazing and spiritual place. We saw big horned sheep, antelope, and dead wild-horse carcasses. Oh, and a few giant jack rabbits. It also has what I like to call "weather." (Please note that it's required that you put both hands up to your head gesticulating the "quotes" when you use the word weather.)  One of the highlights happened on Saturday when WHAMMO, a storm blew in. We were hiking in the lush mountains and when the dark clouds cam in over the peaks we  thought we could run down and make it back to camp to save it from blowing away. Running full speed in blankets of rain made me realize that hiking in a bikini top was perhaps not the best idea. The rain felt like hail it hit so hard.Then we got caught in lightening on the playa. There is nothing more scary than getting surrounded by black clouds with lightening booming down on all sides and realizing that you are the highest point ,in a metal car, on a flat desert plain. it went like this:

"Uh, I think we should turn around," I, and Professor Sugar said.
"No we'll be okay," Jessica and Spirit Monkey say.
BOOM BOOM BOOM (lightening comes closer)
"FUCK TURN AROUND," we say again.
"Really, I think we'll be....... " Jessica and Spirit pause.....BA BA BA BOOOOOM!".....(eerrrrrrrrrrr - sound of car stopping, turning.

My adrenaline hit the roof. Luckily, the driver, Jessica was calm and ready for action. Then we did what any good camper in the Alvord would do: we went to the nearest town called Fields,  population nine, and had cheeseburgers and milkshakes)

When we finally did get back to camp an hour or so later  it was trashed ....here are a few before and after photos:

BEFORE

AFTER

 

Regardless of the crazy wind, the dust, the rain and the lightening, the Alvord desert is still a great place to rest. Maybe the dead lake bed rescues my jittery brain, or maybe I like suffering in the dry heat because it makes me hallucinate, either way I find rest in what looks like a no man’s land. Flat, dry, cracked and dusty. Dry lake beds are the flattest and most lifeless pieces of landscape on earth. The cracked, sun-baked surface is smooth enough to drive across, or for small airplanes to land on. The only visible signs of life on the desert floor are the carcasses of small insects which have died after being blown into its barren expanse by the wind.

The flip side is to beware of the Alvord. It is deceptively calm. The weather seems tranquil at first, the air loosens you up and allows you relax. But just like a crazy lover, what seems calming and fun at first, can turn out to be risky and treacherous.

Professor Sugar, my old friend that organized the trip, said to me, “It might not always be fun, but it’s never boring."

Then there are also "wet spots," or rather mud spots, and if you’re not careful you can drive right into the mud  and get your vehicle buried in a clay-like-gooey-mess that will sink your car (Which happened to my friend Thane’s car, although I think he did it on purpose just to get the rest of us to dig him out with our hands. Literally.) Luckily, we were on our way to the hotsprings,  and if he didn't have the champagne we might not have driven back to save him.

 Either way, the Alvord is one of my treasures. A place for me to let it all go. Relax in the danger, rest in the sun, and feel 100% alive.  Check out the two videos below to see us in action.

Waiting for my real life to begin

There are days when i wonder if I'll ever break out of my own cage.

This song, by Colin Hay, helps:

Download 07_waiting_for_my_real_life_to_begin.mp3

Nope

 

I don't do politics much, so I'll make this brief: nope, not even a little bit.

Little Bird ZigZag

During a meditation in the woods that touched me very deeply, I had a strange epiphany and was gifted the name "Little Bird." It seemed perfectly normal at the time, but as I write this I’m thinking, “Jesus how fucking woo-woo ZigZag. What, now your name is Little Bird? “

Do with it what you will, but I like it. I like all three: Little Bird ZigZag. Perhaps this name is to help me enter into a new phase of my life because it felt like a relief valve was hit. My eyes felt a little softer, my breath a little calmer. I was suddenly relaxed and quiet (which is a big deal for such a big energy like *ZigZag*.)

A week before this meditation I had a dream about a little bird. The dream went like this:

I found a parakeet in my house. It was rounder and cuter than an average parakeet, and it was the sweetest thing. It was understood that I needed to tie the feet of this bird together with a soft string. The bird just lied on it’s back, kind of purring, and allowed me to tie it’s feet. I carried this bird everywhere, and was comforted by her presence. The next thing I know I’m in a mall, full of people, looking for my car. I get into my car and gently place the little bird on a pillow in the back seat for support.

Then I drive out of the mall parking lot and find myself 3000 feet in the air. I panic because I do not know how to *fly a car.* I’m like, “shit shit shit.” I look down at the controls, but can’t figure it out and I’m about to plummet. All of a sudden a big eagle flies onto my windshield and looks me in the eyes, blocking my view. At first I’m pissed off, and reach my hand out of my window and try to “shoo” the eagle off. I mentally say to it, “Get off my fucking windshield, I’m going to die if I can’t see where I’m going.” But the eagle insists I look it in the eye and as soon as I connect eye-to eye with the eagle, I intuitively figure out how to “land the car” and I glide gracefully 3000 through the air and down to the ground. The eagle leaves, and I look in the back seat to make sure the little bird is safe, which she is. Then I drive away totally stoked that *I just flew my car.*

I have already had a few close friends and lovers call me little bird and it's made me feel so peaceful. .

So for now, as a nickname I am going to play with Little Bird and see where she lands.


(although on the flip side, there is a bad-ass helicopter called the little bird...check it out: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MH-6_Little_Bird )

Just Friends

Have you ever known someone that you wanted to be just friends with, (or were told to be just friends with)  but you know that you can never really be "just friends" with them? (yes i know this is going to  sound like the makings of a good Seinfeld episode, but bare with me.)

Like maybe on the outside you can pretend you are just-friends, but your mind isn't just-friends with his or her mind? Or maybe your hugs aren't really the just-friends kind of hug that you would give to someone that was, well,  just your friend.

People that know me know that I'm a rather sensual, sex-positive type of girl, so in the realm of relationships I can find myself not just wanting to be friends. I  find this conundrum interesting.

And is pretending to be just-friends really being just friends?

Discuss and help me out here.

My Other Me, Revisited.

Back on January 28th 2007, a year and a half ago I wrote a poem called, "My Other Me."

I received awesome comments on my tribe site that you can read here. I was impressed by the confessions of others, and how we all harbor a secret side of wishes.

A year and a half later I re-read this poem and realized that a few things have come true. I have replaced some of the sentences with I...

I worry less about money.
I know I am happening and that I'm connected.
(Okay I still don't get up at 4:30 to meditate. My other me still does that.)
I play guitar without reason and sing loudly.
I am growing my hair long and I live in awe.
I draw pictures sometimes instead of writing words.
I drink minimally and still party anyway.
(Nope, still don't want a child. Hmmm....)
I know how to get giddy over a business plan
I wear boots and skirts, just need to invest in combat boots.
I peirced my nose.
I talk less (no really.)
(Okay, no truck yet, and still need to travel.)
I publish my work...slowly.
I wear sparkles to business meetings.
(Still don't send enough little things home)
I feel safer on the edge of a cliff, but still working on that one.
(Okay, I still don't let go much.)

ONWARD.....So here's another round, of "My Other Me...."

"My Other Me, Revisited " May 14, 2008

My other me is a published poet.
My other me zigzag's like a theta wave.
My other me listens with patience.
My other me speaks without apology.
My other me is traveling the world.
My other me let's go and surrenders.
My other me celebrates her sexual freedom.
My other me loves deeply and without fear.
My other me lives on both the east and west coast.
My other me nails it.
My other me sends little things to her parents monthly.
My other me writes her memoirs with gripping candor.
My other me lives like a millionaire.
My other me has ease of well being.

Glitched Out.

Saturday night I went to the Taurus Ball here in P-town, and it was really great to see my friends. The place was intimate and well decorated and felt awesome. I was ready to dance, and I mean really ready, and I thought I could manage to overlook the obvious lame beat of glitch,  but then the elusive beat began:

"er..uh....eeeeeeeee....muuuuahb...byahb, byahb, byab ,byahb....."

Glitch's definition even makes me cringe:"Derived from effects of failure in technology, such as bugs, crashes, system errors, hardware noise, skipping and audio distortion." 

I fucking hate glitch. First of all it's so 2006. I mean lets move on people. You had your fun, now get over it. The beat makes me feel like this. The "slow-low hip-i'm-too-cool-for-school" that looks something like this. It takes dancing and drops everything down to a level of lethargy that makes me wonder where oh where did all the good music go? Or maybe the people producing the shows don't like to dance to upbeat beats, so we are subject to only their low-beat taste in music?  (oh, I might get nailed to the cross for that comment, but getting nailed to a cross is even more exciting than glitch.)

The more I mention this to friends, the more I hear things like, " Yeah, I know, what happened to the music in our scene? It just sucks."

And  if this sets a tone for summer festivals, I'll kindly pass. Last year I even brought my MP3 player to the Emerge-N-cee Festival and danced in the woods alone to the Stanton Warriors praying for an alien abduction to take me away from all the glitch!

What happened to up tempo and looking UP and into people's faces while dancing? What happened to the elevated blood pressure of excitement? And what happened to shakin' your soul out of your body, not down and into the ground?

<end of rant>

Sugar sugar sugar

For the last four weeks I've been on an anti-candida diet. What that means is no sugar. None. Nada. And no white flours, wheat, white rice, etc. (they turn to sugar in your system.) And no fruit. No alcohol. No Fun. Well, actually it is fun. I'm really enjoying the way my body feels and without blinking an eye I lost those extra five pounds that has been annoying me.

Have I cheated? I had two glasses of champagne to celebrate a birthday last Saturday, but it was worth every drop. Although the next day I felt like I had elmers glue in my veins.

What I find most fascinating is that everything - EVERYTHING - has sugar in it. Salad dressings, tomato sauce, rice crackers, sushi (!), underarm deodorant, shampoo, canola oil... but really, it's fucking nuts. I mean come on people do you really need to have sugar in your peanut butter? or in your balsamic dressing?

My boyfriend can't even comprehend the idea of not eating sugar (he can pack a half gallon of ice cream down faster than I can say aspartame.) Last summer he said,  "I mean olives don't have sugar in them, so why would anyone want to eat one?" Love that guy.

Sluts with Integrity

(Please note I use the word slut in reference to men and women. Also, that I use the word slut endearingly.)

Okay kids, springtime is just around the corner (at least I think it is, here in Portland it's hard to tell)  and with the warmer, sunnier days hormones will surely be raging. Don't lie to yourself, you know you've already been scouting out prospects. As a public service announcement I figured I'd send out a blog with a few basic reminders so you can slut yourself out with class.

1. One word: condom. Men aren't the only ones that hate them. The last thing a woman wants is latex rubbing in and out of her precious vagina,  but really, if you're going to play with multiple partners do yourself a favor and use them. You don't want to wake up wondering if that little red bump is from too much friction or from some new disease.

2. If your poly, or in an open relationship, awesome. Rock on. If your in a monogamous relationship, awesome. Rock on. However, if your cheating on your partner, not so awesome. Come on folks, get those agreements right. Good communication is key. Be sure to talk about what you want, don't want, would like, etc. You'd be surprised how much your partner will get off on hearing your fantasies, and if he/she gets pissed off about your sex drive or sex dreams...well, maybe time for a new partner, you can't lie to yourself forever.

3. Reduce the drama. I know lot's of people break up in the spring, but try not to fuck your best friend's ex. It doesn't bode well for the friendship. On the flip side, try not to fuck your ex's best friend. I know vengeance is sweet  but really there are lots of fish in the sea (unless it's salmon.)

4. Try to at least ask permission to bring a new lover home if your roommate has recently slept with him/her. I used to share various lovers with my roommate, which was fun. However, this is assuming there is no  "in-loveness" happening.  Love is one thing.  In-love another thing.  Check in with the roomie on that one. Oh, and lovers beware, we did compare notes.

5. Keep your mouth clean. Believe it or not you can share bacteria that can cause gum disease. If your gums bleed when you brush your teeth you have more bacteria in your mouth than you think, and you give that out to those you kiss. So everyone, brush up, floss, rinse and repeat.

Okay, now get out there and get crazy.

Garbage Island

The ocean currents have caused a massive amount of garbage to form an island....or two...or three...or fifteen

and they are mostly plastic....

Check out this Video....

Five things I'm afraid to say outloud, sort of

1. I like that my father got cancer. He is much happier, smiles more, and has been full of life. He answers the phone again, talks forever, laughs loud, and has a better outlook than ever before So maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

2. I'm tired of trying to coach people that don't really want to change. They pay me, but they never do their damned homework.

3. Tongue piercings look cute, but  kind of annoy me, especially with oral sex. I'm not sure of the benefit.

4. I like wandering, without direction, and don't think I really want to "be anything" when I grow up.

5. I never read the paper, I never watch the news (unless I catch a blip at someones house, ) never listen to the radio news, and I have not followed any political candidate or seen them speak. Nor do I care to.

Phantom Conversatoins

I’m house sitting alone this weekend. It’s a much needed retreat. Time alone is something I cherish and fear at the same time. Funny enough, I really enjoy long days of total solitude. There is something stunning and sweet about it. I sometimes just walk around in circles with no direction sliding my sock along the wood floor. Sometimes I just sit and meditate for an hour. These last two days I actually DID meditate for an hour each day. I forgot how powerful that can be.

The funny part about being alone is that I find it interesting how I initially go through separation anxiety. I mean, I love my boyfriend and he loves me. We live together and have a great time together, but even the most loving of relationships can use a break from time to time.  In one way I long for these breaks, to get away, and just relax into my own world. In another way, I miss his company, the laughter, and the affection.

The fun part with Jason (aka Spirit Monkey, aka Radiant Dreamer XTC) is that we have these things called “phantom conversations” where we meet on the ethereal plain and have psychic discussions. He and I have actually had full-on arguments, and resolved them from 3000 miles apart. It’s really fascinating. Sometimes they are sexy and sweet phantom conversations, other times it's like we are Kramer and Seinfeld. Either way, it’s a trip to be so  connected to someone.

Do you have phantom conversations with people in your head? Do they know?

Just curious.

Okay, I’m off for a walk. A silent walk, and I’m going to enjoy the smell of the rain.

I'm looking at myself in the mirror

I'm looking at myself in the mirror: all 39 years of me, dark hair, crafty grin, nose ring, soft wrinkles near my eyes. It's hard to believe it's still me in there. That little me. The one who wanders alone. The one who dreams of singing. The one who knows life is dark, safe, and supernatural.

I'm looking at my brain, which has become a system of runaway wires firing randomly in directions that try to make sense of things.

I'm looking at the little me in there: untouched and pleasant. The me that still believes in magic. I've become a mixed bag of tricks trying to let go and hold on at the same time.

I'm looking at these hands as I type this. Bony hands, like the claws of a small animal.

I'm looking at a picture of my father. The father who was diagnosed with lung cancer. When I heard this news I felt strange, liberated and energized. We both did. We laughed a little and our voices grew louder, we talked faster. My father never talks fast. I think we both woke up again together, and got jazzed about living. Either way my father's cancer is a place we can both find an answer instead of an excuse.

I'm looking at my tears as they hit the keyboard, determined to write it all down and celebrate what's left.

Sexually Loyal to your neighborhood?

This is an excerpt from the new Portland Ragg...from the "Ask Alex" column

Dear Alex,

I can't find anybody to date in the North East because everyone I meet is either my best friend's ex or my ex's best friend. What can I do? Portlanders are so sexually loyal to their neighborhoods. What's up with that? - Geographically Incestuous.

Dear GI,

The answer is quite simple. Portlanders are lazy! It doesn't help that we live in a never-ending storm, have a  bounty of some of the best pot in the country , and drink our body weight in booze. So it's no surprise that after a while you will have smooched up every pole in the neighborhood- both the trophies and the embarrassments. Try planning a field trip to the other side of town. Bring enough money for a cab ride home, but maybe you'll get lucky and wake up on the opposite side of Burnside, and how great would it be to have a significant other that doesn't live down the street? you probably won't get sick of seeing them everywhere (if it doesn't end up working out) and they won't have to hear about you being that drunk bar whore we all can be.

Freeze!

After seeing this short video about the "Improv Everywhere" group in NYC, my amazing friend Ms. Chief (mischief) organized a freezing in Portlad, OR:

Low and behold my boyfriend and I got snapped by a photographer as we "froze" in mid-kiss and appeared in an article by oregonlive.com. Fun times!

 

Calling All Pisces: Your Free!

My 39th birthday is in 6 days. I am not having a big birthday bash, I'm saving that for 40. Instead, I'm setting myself free. I just got this in my email:

This week's free will astrology from Rob Brezny (whom I adore.)

PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): Many people sincerely think that they will be called before God to account for themselves on Judgment Day. If you yourself have held that belief, you can stop worrying about it. The fact is that you were essentially called before God on Judgment Day last week (though it might have happened while you were asleep and dreaming), and everything went great! You passed your test! Your score wasn't perfect, and there were some demerits in your final evaluation, but the most important thing is that you made it! There will, therefore, be no more Judgment Days for you in the future. God found you worthy, and now you can go on living your life without fear or guilt. Congrats, Pisces! You're free!

As you can see it's time I set myself free. The truth is that I put a lot of pressure on myself and can be the harshest judge of myself. As some put it, I beat myself up too much.

What am I beating up? My thoughts? My actions? My fear? My slacker days? My eating too much chocolate? My hunger for sex outside of my primary relationship? My drinking too much? My saying things I shouldn't say?  My dreams of never being good enough?

Not good enough? Why would I even put that weight on myself? At 39 I feel like I just woke up, again. I know, I know, it's a re-awakening forever. At least it feels that way.

So at 39 I'm free. Because Rob Brezny says so. Because I say so.

I'm free to write poetry that expresses my witchy ways. 
I'm free to ask for the money I know that I am worth.
I'm free to ask for the sexual experiences I know I deserve.
I'm free to piss  people off (oops, I already do that.)
I'm free to relax. 
I'm free to love myself to the max.

Create the life you want!

Yeah Baby ! I made a commercial. Or rather, my uber-hot boyfriend Jason Zaworkski made the commercial. Check it out. Pass it around. Show it to your friends. If I can help support your dreams, give me a call. www.coachzigzag.com

20 wonderful things about me

My friend Kalliste has been celebrating 14 days of self love this month. I admire that, and know from experience that loving myself is like dragging a yacht threw the mud. I know I'm top-notch, but I still beat myself up and cover myself in crap. But today I'm on board for a good, yummy, love-fest. Today I'm going to grope myself, kiss myself, lick myself, and laugh with myself ... and to start off I'm making my list of 20 wonderful things about me.

I dare you to take my challenge and make your own list: What are 20 wonderful things about you?

20 wonderful things about me

1. I smile a lot.
2. I smell fuckin' great.
3. My unending desire for fun.
4. My writing and poetry
5. I have great legs.
6. Savvy baby. Real Savvy.
7. Totally gullible.
8. I love to love.
9. Sex drive.  (I sizzle sometimes.)
10. My kindness and my compassion, even though it makes me cry a lot.
11. I speak my truth.
12. My loud fucking mouth!
13. My patience with children.
14. My desire to learn to cry in front of strangers.
15. Risk taker.
16. The way I take care of my home.
17. My bouncy playful attitude.
18. My shut-the-fuck-up-take-no-prisoners-attitude.
19. My name.
20. My ability to inspire.