Mysteries of Life
The thing about blogging is: on one hand, you’re completely disclosed, open, seen by everyone. It’s weirdly terrifying. On the other, what is the sound an unread blog makes? It’s weirdly freeing. You can write about whatever you want.
Nietzcshe wrote that if one has character, one has one’s recurring experience. Apparently I have a dumptruck load of character because I keep bonking into many things on a recurring basis. Who knew?
Today’s recurring experience involves something that is becoming ever more mysterious: driving. And parking. I live on a very busy street, where parking is at a premium on our side. Interestingly, there is always parking on the other side of the street. Generally there’s even parking on OUR side of the street if you look. However. There is a driveway attached to my place, a long driveway going back, with a wide driveway entrance in front. In short: IT IS CLEARLY A DRIVEWAY. My understanding about driveways is that they are used to go in and out. Used. To go in and out. On the schedule of whoever has the actual use of them. To wit: A driveway is not a parking place. Before I moved here I thought that was common knowledge. But, no. This morning as I was working away, we heard a car engine in the driveway. Not expecting anyone, we looked out the front door. Indeed, there was a truck, which got its engine turned off as we watched, containing two men with one cellphone conversation going on. We had no idea who they were. Going outside to enquire solicited totally blank incomprehension and then what is becoming a phrase that makes me want to pick up a large shovel and bash its utterer upside the head. Well, we’re only going up the street. (What? Que? Excuse me? ) Yes, going up the street/over there/mumble mumble. ( I’m sorry, but NO.) We said: well, this is a driveway and you can’t park here. That remark appeared to go completely over their heads, but fortunately it was The Partner who was having this particular chat and these guys saw the wisdom of finding an actual parking space. The LAST time this happened recently, I padded out in my basic work attire which, let’s face it, is often flannel pajamas and a sweatshirt, or at least something with a large bear on it. The guys saw me coming out of my front door, squeezing by their enormous truck, and walking over to them. Is this a concern of yours?, I was asked after I said thisisadrivewayyoucan’tparkherethankyousomuch. I lost it that day, sadly. No, I said. I just parade around in flannel pj’s inspecting driveways early in the morning. WHAT DO YOU THINK????? There have been literally dozens and dozens of these incidents. It is of course special fun when the driver of the car speaks no English. That allows me, however, to mime crushing the front end of the car which has worked on one occasion. Out of all the times we’ve called the police (many) one time only have they actually towed the vehicle away. Usually they come quite a bit later, ask US a million questions about who we are and how old we are and why we’re calling, then look up the phone number for the license plate and apologetically call the misparked car’s owner and say, oh gee we are SO sorry but boozilla here wants your car out of her driveway SO SHE CAN GET TO WORK. Or TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM. Or TO PICK UP HER MACARTHUR GENIUS GRANT. Or something like that.
My recurring experience ? I simply don’t get it. What has happened here? People seem to think that the sky’s the limit and whatever they want to do is just fine, no matter what, where or when. The simplest courtesies and social rules are to be completely disregarded in favor of one’s own slovenly wishes convenience. Whatever it is, it’s Just A Little, you know, hammering, or yelling, or stinky trash spilling into your yard, or barking dogs from 2 to 4 a.m., or whatever it is someone wants to do. You, the Noticer and Person Being Inconvenienced, are An Idiot and S.O.L. So I am really confused. My thought was always that cooperation and courtesy were how one dealt with the day to day. Plus just basic attention.
I would ask what YOU think, but it’s a big cyberspace out there. And you’re probably looking for someplace to park.
The Least of These
I understood today why all the political, financial, and world events swirling by us recently have made me so incredibly angry. It doesn’t really have anything to do with doctrine or dogma or party, either. (Although of course all those things are relevant in the bigger, succeeding picture that comes up when I calm down.) (Which will be soon, I hope.)
I have a client in a nursing/rehabilitation facility. These kinds of places are not generally ones that elicit happy responses from people. There is suffering happening, and bad smells, and fear. There are also incredibly kind people working every day to do the best they can to be helpful to those around them; I am constantly impressed by the unfailing good humor and poise among the staff at this particular place. That attitude is reflected, noticeably, in the people who reside in the facility. Anyway, what dawned on me, once again, is that our society is quite willing to stash people out of sight when they are old or infirm, and indeed is quite willing to have large numbers of people consigned to dysfunction. Considering the prison population, the plight of foster children, disabled and seriously ill individuals, added to the elderly and those living in skilled nursing facilities, there is a huge population of individuals consigned to a marginal, limited existence, to put it mildly. When you add the people all over the world who don’t have clean drinking water, live in countries where the powerful lay waste to everything in sight (I’m thinking here specifically of parts of Africa) and can be enslaved to perform work ranging from brick making to prostitution, it doesn’t look like what Earth should be. This isn’t even touching on the natural world: The trees, animals, fish, birds, plants, and rocks which are used profligately and often cruelly.
I realized that what really makes me inconsolably furious about what I see on the news now is that this havoc is wreaked every day, and has apparently lately been exponentially increased, by individuals whose only motive is their own greed. I feel powerless against this tide. It isn’t a matter of “party” or “conservative” or “liberal” or “country” or “tribe” or “economy”. It has nothing to do with real thinking and philosophy and public policy, which thus makes the arguments used to disarm any opponents specious and digressive. It is, to my mind, evil, and in no small part because the aim seems to be to destroy the social contract, despite what may be said.
It makes me furious to think that the powerful still– after all this time! — do terrible things to “the least of these” ( a category that is expanding exponentially itself) and do not care one whit. Indeed, can be interviewed on television blandly sporting skiing suntans. I suppose we all hit developmental pockets of naivete: This one is mine. I do believe that love will prevail, goodness and kindness work miracles, and we are here to help each other. Some times I can only shake my head.
Something like a rant
I’m finding myself too anxious to settle down and work today. Probably its because I watched CNN for too long and seeing the unrest in Iceland was just…saturation point. I am sure some will be offended by this opinion, but: The evil greed, the rampant dishonesty, the really utter collapse of our financial systems, must be laid in large part to the United States “government” of the last eight years. Systematically dismantling due process, habeas corpus, rule of law– the Justice Department firings and Gonzalez’ activities investigations were just a speck on the tip of the iceberg. The question of why no one rose up to oppose all this is a serious one. The unbridled self interest and greed is still apparently active– who knew there even were wastebaskets that cost $1400? This of course is not a new opinion. I find myself so disoriented by how any of this nastiness can really be possible that I guess I’m working it out in my usual non-linear way. Anyway, here we all are at the end of one pretty awful chunk of time, in dire straights. We can’t eat wastebaskets, as it turns out.
Still, the other thing I think about is this. The feelings that were flowing during the inauguration were, I think, the lifting, really world wide, of people’s spirits and awareness. Hope and some recognized commonality. Whether or not one agrees with President Obama, voted for him, or any of that, is beside the point. The real point is that many, many people were lifted out of inertia into a place where there was visible light and that happened to many individuals together. That feeling is what we must all strive to remember in what are going to be some tight places, coming to a spot near us all soon. We really are all one and the sooner that idea comes to the forefront, the better off we will all be.
Singing in the Rain
OK, so today was a little frustrating and I found myself, after some un-clever scheduling and errand running in the rain which means everyone forgets how to drive, in a Not Very Good Mood. It’s better now, some deeeeeep breathing and so whatting later.
First. I had a newsletter to get out today. All was going well…too well, apparently. I resized a photo and !WHAMMO!, the entire newsletter went rhomboidal. It still isn’t perfect (” “) but I managed to wrestle it to the ground and get it out. I forget, also, often, that the point of the newsletter is to market my business and this time was no exception. I remembered at the last minute to put in something about an actual product though! Next month, who knows. I may actually make the leap to putting a PICTURE of a product in.
Second. We’re out of peanuts around here. Gentle Reader, you may think you can tell Boozilla there isn’t a roasted, unsalted peanut in the kingdom. I beg to differ. Nobody tells Boozilla much of anything when it comes to peanuts, except, yes your highness I have installed the daily (one) peanut-ness in your breakfast!!! I had, in a previous episode of Going Outside and Leaving the Mind at Home, bought peanuts, brought them home, and experienced the Royal Displeasure upon discovering they were salted. While it made me feel better that at least she doesn’t eat things that aren’t good for her…still. No peanut, and We Are Not Happy. Trudge back to store, no peanuts. Three days later, no peanuts. Anywhere. My kingdom for a peanut. I finally got the, believe it or not, LAST BAG of unsalted roasted peanuts at the grocery store, which was a good thing since I was about to start snivelling. Peace has been restored to the parrot world, if no other.
Third. I really love baseball and am having a hard time understanding why Manny Ramirez is still unsigned. The man is a superior baseball player, and it just makes me wonder. And since this is my blog, out in cyberspace all by its lonesome, I can ask.
Fourth. Now that my eyes have unswelled from crying through most of the Inauguration and parades and balls, I’m still uplifted and restored by the thought that the system did, finally, work as it was intended to work. These are truly rough times but it does seem that cautious optimism may be in order. It is nice to feel this way at long last.
Fifth. Every day I am reminded of just how challenging it is to be a human. ( Not just driving, either, although that will quickly take a person several steps back in the Consciousness Department. The mystery of what green lights, turn indicators, lanes, and solid yellow lines are for, and all that.) Today I didn’t do so well on keeping my end up somehow, but I am always so thankful for the love and support I get from those close to me. As an older black woman said to me on the day of the Inauguration, everything’s gonna be just fine, sugar.
The Felix Unger Conversion Scale
I used to be Felix Unger. One day in an interview, Ashley Judd remarked that she had been struggling with this…compulsion? shall we say? and when she found herself wiping up counters in ladies rooms she Knew Something Had To Be Done. Oh. Well. As it happened, I had recently found myself more than once doing that. You know, leaving it nice for the next person sort of thing. So, as with all drives and compulsions that rise up out of the deep, it’s quite a tussle, and quite a lot of work to decide what is what and why it is really OK if the stuff on the coffee table isn’t perfectly lined up. Followed closely by who knew? there’s more than one way to wipe a counter down. And, one of my personal favorites: No one was ever murdered by a dust bunny. Among other things. Eventually one arrives at a place of reason. Then, the fun begins. Why was I doing this in the first place? There is a wonderful novel, CARMICHAEL’S DOG, by R.M. Koster, that talks about this. Carmichael is a novelist full of devils that drive him to…well…anyway….. and his dog is the only one who sees what’s happening. Hilarity ensues. As usual.
So, anyway, there I was this morning trying to keep my eyes squeezed shut, no I do NOT have to face reality yet, thinking of catchy blog titles. OC/Dc? Then the radio came on and there was, in fact, AC/DC singing: how do you make your money. Which leads us to today’s point, in the usual roundabout way. I finally figured out what it is I “do”. This might seem like not such a big deal except this is the first time I’ve been even remotely clear about it, in my own words. Last night The Partner and I were talking as we usually do, and he put into words something that clarified what Jung called the Shadow Self to me, finally. ( I’ve been wondering about this since dinosaurs roamed the earth. A bit slow, sometimes.) Things happen to a person, and they really cannot tolerate thinking about them. At all. So they get driven way, way back in the brain, waaaay past the room called “Now Where Did I Put That?” and into a place so deep it verges on being forever un-findable. These places don’t necessarily have to have a value attached to them. Sometimes the things we can’t accept and shove into that walled space are “good” things, sometimes they’re ” bad”, sometimes they cause us unbearable pain. But they still emit a life long signal. The lighthouses and poisoned arrows in our hearts and souls are always sending out communiques to us, one way or another. You can call this resonance, perhaps. I realized this morning that what I (in my view, am allowed to) do: is communicate with these things in people and help them make their way through. For this gift I am profoundly grateful. Now I get why I am always the person a dog out on a walk comes up to with a thorn in its paw.
I’ve Misplaced My Laugh
At least it feels that way at the moment.
These are definitely strange times we’re in, although there is still a lucky bunch out there who aren’t getting the brunt of it quite yet, from what I’ve gleaned in casual conversation. I, my Partner, and the two Empresses live on a busy street in a town which is part of a large, metropolitan area. If you take the three dwellings in our immediate spot, meaning the house next door, the duplex we’re in, and the house on our other side, which is split into two rental units, I think a bird’s eye view is possible. Altogether nine adults and one baby live in these three places, and there are also two dogs, two parrots, and a turtle. It is a reasonably “normal” cross section of people, with varying ages, persuasions, and belief systems. Basic people working in various white collar jobs, and working as designers, service providers, carpenters. Just regular people who are trying to live their lives. Out of these nine people, right now one still has an actual full time job. One other does part time deliveries. My partner and I are both now self employed, as is one other person. The self employed brigade is officially waiting for the cavalry to arrive with water and crackers and smiling brightly. It doesn’t quite cover up the tooth grinding. In short, it is beyond scary. So this is just to say that while I originally imagined I’d be writing witty vignettes about the wacky world out there, I find that even with my (possibly insane) strong faith that things will work out just fine my insides are twisted into something beyond any recognition and I cannot imagine what will come next. I still do laugh, quite a bit, but the old bounce and joie de vivre are in sometimes short supply.
Everyone I know is going through tremendous, deep struggles. Yet I still talk to people who seem somehow personally untouched by all of this shift and change. I wonder what will happen when they, too, are smiling so brightly.
My hope, faith, and belief…is that we will all manage to pull together and change what must be changed. Everything cannot be a commodity with its value set by those who are so far away from it they don’t know what it is, except that it makes them money. The pain of one really IS the pain of all, and it is time to accept that and take on the work of…the work of….hmmm. I want to say the work of Love. So I guess i will say that.
With Frog In Throat
It has been said that much of writing is about finding one’s voice. And here I am, next to speechless, stricken with stage fright. All those Clever Ideas I had earlier have dissipated like clouds blowing across a wide sky.
Well, alright then. Here we are at Post One. Allow me to introduce myself. I am not Boozilla, first off. Boozilla, or she who rules all, is a parrot and that is all we’ll say about THAT for right now. The name should give a tee-tiny hint, however. And she DID learn to fly by navigating around through our house room to room with a few dramatic conk-outs, as I have learned to fly by navigating however dyslexically and accident-prone-ly through…well. Through. Over. Around. Under. Sideways. Which brings us to the Now, wherein I am in the still early days of launching my practice in alternative medicine. I believe it is early days until about ten years after, and we may also say: VERY alternative medicine. So.
One of my teachers quoted Dolly Parton at a particularly complex juncture: “Find out who you are and do that.” Part of finding out who I am involved understanding what was outside me and what was to be done about all that. Which in addition to accounting for why it has taken me so long, also, finally, we hope, brings us to an actual point. Authority. Who do we listen to? What are they saying? and Why? Not only is this a relevant question for each of us but overwhelmingly relevant in the world right this minute. Being rendered speechless by what one sees and hears is almost a quotidian experience now. Distrust of what one sees and hears. All kinds of things are said by all kinds of people who, once you really look at it, have no experience to back up what they’re saying. Or, worse, the motives behind what they’re saying are questionable to say the least. Thinking about all that is happening now in the world, everywhere, can be a paralyzing thing. Overwhelmed by it all we think we can do nothing, or else jump on some information surge we’ve received from…see authority above. Or, just ignore it all, what the heck. It becomes now, then, absolutely crucial to understand what we’re hearing, who is saying it, and why. I think that is a big part of why I write. I hope it will be a big part of why some will read what I write. That, of course, and the ever amusing stories of my accident prone encounters along the way.
Today finishes with two things. First, I passed, at long last, the baguette test. One thing I do to revive myself after extended periods of crawling around on my eyeballs is bake. I have a sourdough starter that I began many years ago. I finally made baguettes with it a few days ago. The challenge of rolling something shaped like a softball into a long wand shape, well, piffle. In addition to having the desired effect of making me feel like a human being again, they were..well, like REAL baguettes. Lovely, lovely baguettes. Which I took to mean: Anything is possible.
Second. I walk by a lagoon every day on my way to see a client who is in a skilled nursing facility. Today for the first time ever, there was a water dog in the lagoon playing. The joy was radiating off this dog in megawatts, the tail was moving like the back rotor on a helicopter, and the ducks were chattily paddling over to investigate. The happiness was contagious. The thing of it was: the lagoon is only about five inches deep in that spot. Up to now, I always thought, lagoon-check, deep water-roger that….and it was kind of a mental shock to see that it was not deep but indeed quite the opposite. I walked away thinking once again that you really cannot know something until you explore it, and also that the power of joy is simple and uncontainable.
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