Wrong Side Up From the Start

You may believe what you are about to read or you may think that I simply need medication. I’m not writing this to convince anyone either way. This is simply my life as I remember it. Whether you believe this is true or not, it has shaped who I am today and continues to drive the way I think and act in the world. My only hope is that you keep an open mind when reading about my journey  beyond the “Twilight Zone.”

One of the wisest statements I have ever heard was from an old man in India who was chronicling his extraordinary life. He said, “We are born into this world because we have not yet learned how not to be.” Those words rang true for me. So, here I am. I have not learned how not to be here.

I remember my birth. Later in life, I was surprised to find out that other people didn’t remember being born. The first memory I have is of watching my seventeen-year-old mother struggling to bring me into the world. I heard the doctor say, “She’s breach.” He then turned and gave instructions to a nurse.

I was watching, but not from a physical form. I seemed to exist in a nebulous state that could observe from many viewpoints in the room. I was at once near my mother and up in the corner of the room, behind the doctor and next to the nurse. There was a lot of activity as they tried to turn the babe around in my mother’s womb. I guess I was stubborn because they gave up and I was pulled into the world feet first. Oddly, I have never been able to stand on my head or do cartwheels. Coincidence? Maybe.

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How I learned to Embrace Insanity and Become a Real Writer – or – Down the Rabbit Hole

Anita Burns

yellow alien

I’ve written boatloads of non-fiction. My first published book was a cookbook, my second was on handwriting analysis. Since then I’ve written books on the esoteric arts, hypnosis, baking bread, and more. Although I write really good how-to books, I’ve always wanted to be more creative and dip into something deeper—to touch emotions, make people laugh, cry, and think.

In 2009 I discovered blogging and created Confessions of a Confetti Head https://anitaburns.wordpress.coma mind-dump of stories from my bizarre life, bitch-and-snivel, inspirational, and laugh-and-scratch. My original goal was to write the amazing adventures I’ve had and am still having as a native creature of this insane planet. I didn’t censor what I wrote and reveled in the freedom to just say what I really thought without being concerned about offending anyone or having to be tactful. Okay. It’s not that I’ve ever cared much about what others think of me anyway, but writing in this way was really liberating.

I was surprised when I discovered that people I didn’t even know read Confessions and liked what I had to say. When others started following me, I created more blogs. I was having a lot of fun. Comments from readers showed that what I wrote could move them to laughter, inspire, and touch their emotions. Readers gave me feedback on how much my stories meant to them. Even when someone hated what I wrote and railed at me, I loved it. At least they didn’t find it boring or unworthy of their anger.

once upon a timeNaturally, with my head full of the helium of delusion, I decided that I was ready to write a novel. My inspiration came from a dream I had decades ago. This dream flowed like a novel with no ending. For years I tried to complete the story but every time I wrote what I thought was the rest of the book, it sucked—big time. Continue reading

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Not a Mom. . .

A happy mother.

A happy mother.

I’d like to say “Happy Mother’s Day” to all the women who bore children and raised them. Motherhood must be the most difficult job in the world and so many women bear it with love and joy. Kudos. I have ultimate respect and admiration for those women who, by choice, default, or “oops,” gave birth and stuck it out to love and protect their offspring.

I’m not a mother–by choice–and would really love it if people who know that about me would stop wishing me a happy Mother’s Day. I know it sounds bah-humbug. Maybe it is, but I still chaff at it. I take full responsibility for my reaction. It is my problem and not a judgement of the well-wishers. Something to work on overcoming with my NLP, I guess. But for now, it still rankles. Continue reading

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How I learned to Trick my Brain and Believe

We may think that we think what we think.
But what we don’t know is that we are what we think.
And what we think is not what we think we are thinking.
HarmlessMy life has been so busy lately, trying to edit my first novel for print and starting the second one that I have neglected Confetti Head and all my other blogs. I hang my head in shame.

This morning I awoke early and for some reason couldn’t bring myself to open my manuscript. I need a break. Well, that is after my writers’ group meetings this morning and tomorrow night. After that I’m taking a short break from the world of Planet Arkhon and the Gods of Terra.

I have written so much, that my first thought was, “Well, I’ll just pull something I’ve written about before.” But no matter how many articles (those not intended for posting on my blogs) I opened, none felt right. It’s almost like Goldilocks and the Three Bears, “This porridge is too hot. This porridge is too cold . . . .” So there was nothing to be done but to write something new. But what? I found the story below in a lonely folder marked “unfinished.” I rescued it out of the bits and bites of cyber cobwebs and gave it some TLC with updates, edits, and new material. Continue reading

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Ho, Ho, Ho? Or Bah! Humbug.

santahappySo Christmas is upon us yet again. Didn’t this just happen last year? This holiday is so polarized that I’m surprised there hasn’t been a march down Main Street proclaiming the right way to celebrate.

Oh, wait, there has been. Every year there is the put-Christ-back-in-Xmas campaign. These are the folk who don’t like and don’t understand the origin of Xmas.

The X is the Greek letter Chi, the first letter of the Greek word for Christ. The mas is the Old English word for mass. Xmas is a legitimate, religion-based word for this holiday. So, protestors? Stick a the candy cane of factual information in your mouth and shut-up about it. Continue reading

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NEWS FLASH! Astrology Event – Merkeba in the Sky

NEWS FLASH! Astrology Event – Merkeba in the Sky.

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Bang, Bang! You’re, Not Dead?

Gun---Bang I was not a cautious girl growing up nor am I as an adult. Actually, in my youth I was a bit of a slut/hippie/Holly Golightly—only not as elegantly beautiful as Audrey Hepburn. But then, who is?

As with most young people, I had a no sense of mortality. No matter what I did, I knew I  would be okay. Thus my many mind-numbing acts of stupidity.

Okay, back to guns.

I know it’s not a popular thing to say in my circles of liberal, left-wing metaphysics, but I  like guns. I have a fascination with them. I don’t have any, nor do I ever again want a gun —I know, never say never. I like a lot of things I don’t want to own: horses, for one. I think horses are beautiful and amazing creatures but have no desire own one. I never wanted children either, but that’s another story.

I’ve had a lot of exposure to guns from antique to modern. To me, they are amazing machines, an art form, albeit a dangerous one. Gun control is a complicated topic and I won’t get into it, except to say that I think Congress is acting like a bunch of petty children having a tantrum when it comes to gun control—on both sides.

Shut up Anita. Don’t get political here.

You’d think that because I’ve been on the  business side of a loaded gun twice in my life, that I would be anti-gun. I’m not. For the most part though,  my gun experience has been safe. Odd, sometimes, but usually safe.

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