Posts Tagged ‘writing’

Into the Breach

So, the effort to separate the real from the unreal continues apace out here in…wherever this is.  We saw President and Mrs. Obama on TV yesterday (yes! downward facing antenna-dog!).  (As always, she rocked it).  The discussion included how people who work hard should be able to succeed in this country, blahblahblah, responsibility, sacrifice, blahblahblah.

I found myself experiencing a certain amount of discombobulation, as is usual when I hear things like this.  I mean, I prefer hearing THIS to hearing the drums beating for “job creators”  and “exceptionalism”, and “restoring the future” (how can you restore something that hasn’t happened yet?) and all the rest of the whole cloth of untruth and deceit that gets unfurled constantly these days.  Because there really is something else, some indefinable something, that must enter into what comprises success in this country.  Hard work and responsibility and sacrifice alone don’t quite do it.

What I ended up thinking at the end of another long, challenging day was what I usually wind up thinking now.  There are worlds within world, throngs within throngs, and somehow the lines between them all are both transparent and impenetrable.  You have to define success in terms of the big picture, the long term, and somehow in terms of your own coherence.  Not in terms of what you own or how you look or even what kind of “professional” you are.  Needless to say if the brass ring hasn’t installed itself in your living room there can be some tooth gnashing- at a minimum.

Part of what I’ve come to understand I’ m writing about (because seriously? it seems to just have a mind of its own) is this whole journey we make through life, how it gets set up and oriented, what we learn about ourselves and how we have to undo the damaging parts of that learning.  I realized I’m much younger now than I was as a kid, for example.  As a child there were responsibilities and situations to be dealt with that were, to say the least,far above my pay grade.   Ultimately that left a dent in other developmental areas, left a mark which everyone else saw and understood.  Not me!  No sir.  Took quite some time for that.  Now there are the constant ups and downs of things and the tremendous anxiety of blazing a new path with no map except a vague sense of magnetism, and of course the never ending dance with money.  But it seems to me that the big task IS individuation, opening one’s heart and mind, even though as Chogyam Trungpa remarked, we’re up against tremendous resistance.  Once you do that, however, everything changes.  It starts to be a little vertiginous, perhaps scary, to venture forth into world where nothing is as you previously thought it to be.

It’s probably part of why people don’t always want to do things that will help them “get well”- once you shift, for example, and see that the stress of your job is going to kill you even though of course you are So Grateful To Even Have One, what do you do then? The choices are not really there when you’re between a rock and a hard spot.   Once you orient yourself using the stars, your deep inner heart’s voice, though, instead of a shopping mall or exercise of power, the field of being shifts and the whole world does, too.  Somehow then you really just can’t keep going on in the same old way, try as you might it just won’t work.  And even though, as Marshall McLuhan wrote, “the integral being cannot be…tolerated in a fragmented or specialist society…” you find you just have to step out into that void, where you finally may learn to fly.  At the very least, you start presenting a moving target.  How that works out with your old friends, your family, your career- all unknown and often not terribly warm and fuzzy.  This larger view creates the beginning of difference, big differences perhaps.  But it is where many of us, I believe, find ourselves.  Now we must begin to find each other out there, and make a better world with what we’ve learned.  Because differences mean that we have things to share with each other, in the final analysis.  Not that we’re wrong or bad.  Just that we have different knowledge or experience- and the road to sanity does pass extensively through the Land of Learning That Differences Aren’t What Make Things Go Sideways.  I find my prayer mostly these days is that everyone on earth can find a moment of peace inside themselves and remember that we are all one.  Those who hurt us as well as those who love us.

 

Deeeeeeeeeeep Breath

Well, here we are again in The Elegant Bean, which appears to be the designated home away from writing home for the foreseeable future.  Now that I’ve finally read PLANETWAVES (nothing like a week of email, is there?)  and learned of the upcoming full moon on Saturday in my very own crazypants sign, I see that the cosmic push pull may have contributed just a tee tiny bit to the major effort it took not to burst into tears when:  In the wifi world of T.E. Bean, my trusty laptop just would not, no way no how, no sirree, NYET WHAT PART OF THIS DON’T YOU GET, simply would not connect to the internet.  Oh, I tried.  I restarted.  I added to the keychain.  I asked it what the freaking hell it was doing.  I reminded said laptop that we were not in the yurt, therefore it didn’t need to keep telling me it couldn’t find the server or its ass with both hands.

Of course, finally, in the way of such things, it did connect.  I think the laptop feels it is enough of a Grande Dame not to have to connect to all these…well, STRANGE….networks.  Jakes Take and Bake?  Still, one is grateful.  Also happy to have mustered enough focus not to leak all my brains out my ears before I even saw the long and winding road ahead….note to self.  Never mind Facebook.

BUT ANYWAY.  Naturally my head is full of words up on the hill, when I’m doing chores and trying to keep it all together.  I’ve been writing in snatched invervals with the antediluvian instruments of a Bic and a college ruled notebook, and what’s interesting is that it comes out differently that way.  Typing is SOOOOO much faster.  Plus generally you can read typing, but what the heck.   In any event, once I get to T.E. Bean it’s ground zero and of course making sense of all those handwritten pages..well, it’s interesting.  There often isn’t a thought in my skull here.  Still.  This is now the Designated Time That Has Been Carved Out.  It has helped me to some extent think more clearly about what it is I’m trying to write, say, do.  And although the Partner and I have pretty much agreed that it is only through divine intervention that we’re still breathing at this point, and therefore, WTF?!? this…thing that’s trying to wend its’ way out into the world still demands to be attended to.  So I guess that’s a good thing.

It has made me think about everything going on now, in a different way, this emerging thing.  Partly it brings up the question of how much does one say?  How much do you describe, and how honestly, the shaping things that have contributed to wherever it is you are now?  I think it is telling what we learn from our experiences rather than just telling the story of “what happened” that may be really important.  Learning how someone else handled this dastardly situation in which you now shockingly find yourself, knowing that they made it, remembering that there is always something funny about it all no matter how long it takes to find that….there’s something different about that than straight reportage.    Somehow I think it all ties in to this business of truth that floats before my eyes all the time.  There’s also the question of how much to reveal, after all.  Of course the answer to that is everything- but then one must define that everything.  And, maybe it takes some time, quite some time, to actually digest and learn from what has gone on.  Currently we are in a bit of shock from, er, just how long it took little us to get a clue.

Anyway, there’s nothing to do but proceed.  Which I guess will be happening for a while on a schedule that requires, let’s just say, discipline.  I now have to drive 16 miles one way just to get an internet connection- temporary I hope but still.  It’s food for thought, yet again, about just what we need.  How can we do our work, any of us?  How do we get on in life?  A TED talk over the weekend was about how so many people in the world now are, essentially, squatters.  And that number will increase in the coming years.  The huge settlements of people in Lagos, Istanbul, Rio, all the shanty towns of the world- those are all getting bigger, and probably have some interesting things to reveal about how culture is going to be remade if it is to  continue. More horizontal organization once again, instead of hierarchical, is one thing that seems fairly clear.  The speaker asked why people make these huge moves, from their original homes to someplace about which they know nothing, and just pick up and do it.  As someone who is, I think we could say, a sort of Reverse Squatter, I think I can answer that question a bit, and that, I think, is the actual subject at hand.  The task of that subject is how to tell the story so it is understandable, and helpful.

So, dear Gentle Reader, I hope you will continue to tune in.  We may be getting at last to deeply real life.  Which is always an ongoing revelation, and always an invitation to leave fear behind.

Brain: Friend or foe?

So much of everything has to do with our brain chemistry: How we see the world, how we feel, how we cope.  When the brain chemistry is off, things do not flow, to put it mildly.

The other constant thing of course is change.  So we start to see how basically life can be a lot like racing over rolling logs in a river.  Sometimes you can do it, sometimes not.  The nature of the river and the logs starts to be important too.

The fact that things change also means that whatever is going on, it will shift into something else, guaranteed.  So while good times pass, so do terrible ones.  That’s a comfort on some level. although even the nature of change seems to be shifting, and everything is going ever faster and faster, centrifuging all of us who knows where.

It seems so much as though we are living, indeed, at a time when the world is coming to an end- at least the world as we used to know it- and things become ever more polarized and fragmented.  A common thread of late is people noticing that no matter what the situation, now one absolutely must be totally on top of every aspect, know everything about the topic in question, and do this whether nor not it is your business. Whether or not this produces a successful result is probably calibrated at this point by how much of a mess gets made in the final analysis. (As in, do you get the product you needed?  How many times do you have to go back and revisit the same thing?)  Also?  This is remarkably similar to hypervigilance, which ultimately drains the brain, throws the neurochemicals into disarray- in essence, shorts you out.

It all seems, Gentle Reader, like something the average bear’s brain is not constructed to handle.  Mine, for example.  Take last night.  (PLEASE.)  I had gone grocery shopping in a state of moderate agitation following Our Week of the Bad Breaker Switches (and concomittantly, no power, no water, sturm & drang and generalized disarray and debility) , picked up a loaf of bread assuming it was what I usually buy since it was in the usual spot.  Of course, it wasn’t, and the thing of it was that it contained poppy seeds, to which the Partner is deathly allergic.  So that was fun, jumping into high healing gear because my attention wavered when it shouldn’t’ve and had a problematic result.  Bear with me for a minute, here:  I had been thinking about how, perhaps, healing involves a raising of the interior energy bar, so to speak, so that you rise above the disharmony and stay there.  It doesn’t mean that the original issue/illness/project/whatnot goes away necessarily- it just means it is not being stimulated. I thought about this after reading several apocryphal stories of individuals who, having been diagnosed with things like cancer or serious heart disease, decided that they were going to get well and did so, only to sink back down and in some cases die after hearing a negative comment from a physician or other person with influence of some sort.  Their altitude shifted with their attitude, it would seem.  Perhaps we can get a sense of how this works by noticing when some old “thing” in us gets reactivated out of the blue and suddenly we’re back in time wondering how we got there.

So that got me wondering, of course, how that actually WORKS, how it gets harnessed, what it means.  The brain is a pretty powerful thing, but it seems as though we really don’t know how to operate it.  How far away from grace one can seem when even though one has indeed decided to be perfectly well, perfectly happy, open minded and compassionate, things just continue to go so intensely and consistently sideways.  I know many people who are sure that things are all unfolding as they should, according to Plan.  I suppose I share that view in a way; the overarching movement is toward the light.  I’ve seen it happen, in fact, but at times like these? My fingers are digging into the cliff, and although there are indeed tigers below, I haven’t seen any strawberries yet.  The movement toward health for any and all of us and for this earth we live on- we are in dangerous times it seems to me.  We have a world economy that is completely in the hands of people who care only for money and power.  The recent article in the Rolling Stone, excerpted on Common Dreams, laid out the math- there are roughly 500 and some pounds of carbon crap that can be shot into the environment before it is, really and truly, game over.  Game over for the Earth.  This is something you would think people would be paying attention to in a serious and dedicated manner.  And indeed they appear to be doing just that.  The biggest oil companies (apparently our friend Exxon-Mobil and Lukoil in Russia) are racing madly to extract enough fossil material to extrude over 2000 pounds out there.  In the next few years.   Sixteen, to be exact.  A two degree centigrade temperature increase?  Game over, people. And even without the quadruple quantity in the sky?  That looks to be imminent, also.  Not to mention the consequences of all the OTHER pollution going on.  Which causes all kinds of illness and misery and makes people have to go to the doctor- if they can.

And then? There are the doctors.  Health care in this country is run by insurance companies and I find myself terrified by the fact that if you don’t have insurance, you get no care.  Period.  If you have insurance, you get what the insurance company says you can get.  Physicians are practically wearing blinders in terms of diagnosis and thinking about possibilities in illness and care, which essentially means that in this arena as in so many others, you are at the mercy of how well the person you are interacting with knows what they are doing, how well they can think.   Along with being completely circumscribed by the amount of money you’ve got.  So it’s all kind of life and death.  I am not happy, let’s just say.

According to what I’ve read in “thisishowyoublog” sorts of articles, this post is waaaaaay too long for anyone to read.  Along with everything else, many bloggers hope to make something viable from their blogs, express themselves and maybe…reach a wider audience.  As well as stay economically viable while attempting to do something creative.  But I am detecting a note of despair in spots, a shrillness in others.   I go back and forth wondering if there’s a point to it or not.  The floor seems to be shifting under us all, and it’s a real question whether or not the entire ROOM is tilting.  Are we on the ceiling yet?

 

Shift Happens, We Hope

I realized today that it has been quite some time since paw went to keyboard.  Another massive realignment, another passel of Growth Opportunities, and basic reassessment were in the forefront- putting words together was too far away to see.  It isn’t that I didn’t write anything.  More that I just wondered what my purpose in doing it was, is,  might be.  Especially because, as happens more often than not, the words come out on their own (or not) and THEY pick the topics and the sweeps of psychological terrain.

Somehow the recent events around here which have, at the very least, revealed more to our sight than the usual three percent (eclipses, strange black clouds, personality upheavals and multiples thereof) have also induced a staggeringly longer view- actually, when you think about it, it makes perfect sense.  A shift in the kaleidoscope. Including a renewed sense of everything being possible at the same time as it is impossible.  As though there is, indeed, another level of Being and Awareness that we can see and reach at times, and the going back and forth between can give a person the bends if they’re not careful.  Still, the experiencing of it is a whole different ball game.  Suddenly everything seems at once somehow orchestrated and somehow also totally random.  Connections and events and everything in life rests on the pinpoint meeting of energies in a field so vast and quiet and eternal yet full of motion,  it has to be meant to be.  Or else it is a splendid accidental confluence.  Clearly there’s more going on here than we imagine.  Healing is just one aspect of all this, of course, although to us it seems so paramount.  Amazing things are possible, healing can happen- cure is something farther off, and maybe not even something meant for us.  The difficulties and illnesses we face are schools, but it is an education that never ends.  Each wind and rewind, ribboning in and out path shows us more than we can actually take in- so we are never finished.  By the same token, everything is constantly new- everything is moving and the key is to keep it all going in the same general direction.

An offshoot of all this is suddenly finding myself totally out of patience with Explanations.  Like, religion is a big Explanation.  Politics is a big Explanation.  These Explanations are from the brain pans of creatures no different than you or me, Gentle Reader, and the Commandment-type unquestioning reception of same that seems to be expected is not something we can do here, any more.  Nobody really knows what is going on, how we got here, where we’re going, why we aren’t actually as happy as kings when the world is  so full of wonderful things.  And also awful ones and people who just refuse to open their eyes, wake up, and smell the coffee.  While there are explanations for the temporal things that are going on all around us, the real explanation of why so much is powered by limitation is still waiting for the reveal.    So, I think, why pretend this Absolute Certainty?  Why not just be quiet and watch what’s going on?

It makes it easier in a way because really.  Opinions?  Judgments? Not really necessary.  Still being in a human body of course one finds oneself on a collision track with events and emotions and all the vagaries of being alive, and the negotiating of all that gets gnarly for sure.  But as the water gets hotter and the noise level rises, I’m trying diligently to crawl out of this pot on this stove and see what the rest of the universe is like.  There must be some place where….where….hmmm.  Where, let’s say, truth is the coin of the realm and not dissimulation.  Where openness is of value, and honor counts.  Honor being based on the truth and on acting with respect for all of creation.  Which then leads to perhaps the main thing we need on this journey: Trust.  It’s all really quite interesting, or as my Aunt used to say, it’s a great life if you don’t weaken.

 

The Press of Time

Things, as in all things and as in time itself,  do seem to be speeding up.  Everyone notices it,  and finds it to be challenging to a greater or lesser extent.  It’s like time is literally flying by us, and it all may look the same in the “real world”, but physical life knows it isn’t and there’s a bit of a push/pull, trying to make sense of things as they go past, of our feelings as they swirl and eddy.  How to make sense of what we’re doing, make plans when everything is in such flux if not outright chaos.  I’m watching people I know working through what needs to be done in their lives, making plans and decisions that change with dizzying and speedy regularity.  Usually, I just listen. My own decisions are marching around on their own, practicing how to get themselves in order, and are thus unreachable for comment.

However, and, but.  There do seem to be complementary tracks, even if we feel at times as though we’re following those tracks like dogs with their noses in the grass pursuing bugs.  On the one hand, there’s a LOT of information floating around everywhere in this technological world.  On the other hand? There seems to be an extraction of content from a fair amount of this information.  Where does this leave you?  In the continuing story of the pondering of business and other directions here in Yurt Central, it still seems to me that the inclusion of content and meaning is crucial.  All the well meaning admonitions one receives about paragraph length in a newsletter (or heck! in a blog), and that those paragraphs should all be short so that people can pay attention…..combined with a conversation where someone was talking about what constitutes organic growing and pretty much misrepresenting the basics in order to make a sale, made me stop and wring my paws.  My bias is toward inclusion.  Obviously.  And if we are to change the way things are, the way the world is, we are not going to accomplish that by becoming more stupid, more unconscious, more oriented to having all direction come from outside in specific patterns and sizes and lengths.    We’re looking for INCLUSION, Gentle Reader, and dare we say it, expansion of awareness.  Not contraction.

Combining all this with the (very) dismaying progress in Syria, as well as of politics here in the States, the deadlocked, diatribe ridden (but SHORT PARAGRAPHED!) and/or just downright limited and backward things happening, I come back to the same thing every time.  You have to think for yourself:  nobody else can do that for you.  Thinking for yourself may be frowned upon in some places but it is still essential. ( Just as freedom is, could we but remember that. ) And after thinking, you can explain what you saw and understood to others.  Then, those others can understand the same things, act on their own behalf (crucial in any sort of healing process), and create some dynamism, movement, and progress for everyone.  So, really.  We need those long paragraphs, Gentle Reader!  We need calm, some room to think and develop.  Some quiet and space.  Knowledge, as opposed to propaganda- which is what, of course, advertising is and quite often even the “news”.  We are not presented with the truth, but with an image of what someone else wants truth to look like.  And what that someone else also wants YOU to accept, buy, do.  This lemming- like hurtle toward what’s hot/what’s not and all the artificial constructs we accept as reality is not, ultimately, going to serve us well.  In fact it is looking more and more like The Great Leap Backward.  Especially for women.  So, that was today’s epic think-through. It’s like those fractal rough spots-  those spots reveal the shapes and beings of everything around them and pretending they don’t exist doesn’t fly.  So, finally, a decision.  We embrace long sentences and long paragraphs here.  Happen what may.  (Ahem.)(Scenes from Toiling In Obscurity?)

Meanwhile, for diversion nothing really surpasses the horses next door.  They’re by themselves most of the time, and thus have whole routines and things they do just in the course of their days, since they think nobody’s watching and we are, at this point, largely part of their herd so they don’t worry about US. ( Except to alert us to their need for carrots.)  For example, they’re in a sloping corral area.  They’ll take turns walking, one of them, up to the top of the corral with the other staying down in the bottom.   Then, they’ll “ignore” each other until one breaks down and begins to amble down to the other.  The ear movement during all this is sensational: up, down, swivel, front, side, wiggle.  Maybe a blow out the nose.  After some short time passes during which length of corral/time/distance are measured in equine terms, inevitably the horse on the lower area of the corral makes a break for the top area, and a fair amount of astonishing head and mane shaking ensues.  Then sometimes they chase each other around, or play tag with things they find on the ground.  Sierra, the white horse, absolutely loves to roll in the mud.  The other day she was doing just that, reveling in abandon, when she noticed The Partner walking past the fence.  She gave him a quick, appraising glance and went right back to the mud.  It’s a different story with the border collie, though.  The dog was out playing the dozens with Copper, The Guy Horse, and the head movements and shakes, the lunges and snaps and hoof gesturing were all clearly saying:

DOG- nyah nyah nyah

HORSE- come over here and say that, right here!

DOG- lunge and miss

HORSE- keep it up.  I can do this all day.  WITH PLEASURE.

But the really great thing is we can always walk over there and get showered with horse kisses now.  Which is the next plan, after, of course, we let the Conure Cabal out for their afternoon fly around.  Continuing reinvention can wait a bit.

Mandelbrot Sets

We’ve been thinking about fractals and Mandelbrot Sets lately.  The ideas float around in my head, probably making all sorts of fantastic sets, pulsing with color and repeating form, and  make me think about how magnificent everything really is.  All the color and movement, from the bottom of the sea to the top of the mountains, rocks and jellyfish and gems and flowers and stars and prairies and lakes and…leaves and all sorts of things.  I realize now there has never been a moment in my life when I wasn’t sure that everything was connected, and somehow intelligible in that connection.

Except, of course, people.  Except the huge expanse of unknowing contained in my own hard cranium.  It all made sense, all the connectedness and energy, and then, as  (I think) Descartes said, I went outside.  What everyone else saw as making sense, to me was chaos.   On the public television documentary we saw on Mandelbrot, THAT all kind of finally made sense too.  Apparently, “real” mathematics deals with geometry in terms of circles, squares, curves, straight lines.  Theoretical examples of what things may be.   So nature, with all its “rough” surfaces and areas, was outside the realm of mathematics.  Fractals are a way of understanding those rough spots, which are in everything and are actually REAL.  Original mathematicians, like Plotinus who said that “numbers are mysterious beings” saw the magic, all the fluctuation and movement of creation in things not as something unreal but as an essential component of reality.  Mystery and magic were forces of nature, and numbers were their language- and numbers spoke to rough spots, not just smooth ones.  So, somehow, this crush of history and the past two thousand years we find ourselves at the end of  hurtled toward, to a large extent, the negation of nature and the imposition of a concept of reality that could be managed on paper, in the abstract, vanquished and set aside by calculations that took place partly in a vacuum.

Which, of course, is where we find ourselves now.  It helps in a way to understand things now from that perspective- the one where you see that an artificial construct was put in place for just about everything, and the original impulses that interacted with each other and produced observable phenomena were relegated to the junk heap.  More or less.  And, it isn’t that these sorts of mathematics and paradigms are really mutually exclusive.  They work with each other, talk to each other, and could talk to all of us too.  If we had just a bit larger horizon for our thinking.  Meanwhile, if one turns out to dwell in the rough places and not in the imposed circles and squares, it can be hard to fit in.

This is why we turn to nature- for some confirmation that what we instinctively feel is in fact real, for corroboration so to speak of essential truth and being.  People may be difficult to deal with, but an afternoon with plants and rocks and sky restores perspective.  The issue of course is MAINTAINING that attitude when one ventures back into the Classic Paradigm, let’s call it.  Because in that classic paradigm, nature itself is to be ruled over, is chaotic and must be controlled and dominated.  Crazy, if you ask me.

And, of course, crazy.  Here we are.  But I started thinking about it, especially after an extraordinarily tough day at the races, aka going up to “town”.  People were mind bogglingly rude, pushing and shoving, and in general behaving in uncooperative and mean, boorish ways.  That’s fairly unusual here; it’s small and rural enough that people are mostly nice to each other- knowing that there may be need to rely on that person you see every day at the mail box some time.  I found myself responding, at least mentally, by picturing myself with, say, a hand held rocket launcher? Or at least a very stout mallet.  After a fair amount of mistreatment, I wanted to hit someone, in short.  Another Opportunity For Growth! Oh, BOY!!!  Once again we see how easy it is to love your brother as long as you don’t have to encounter him too often.  And, this negative behavior probably forms its own ever expanding fractals influencing huge areas and numbers of people.  This is, to my mind,  where plant and energy based therapies can be very helpful because they help you encounter and deal successfully with the things you don’t necessarily see, like just exactly what that bad mood that guy is huffing out looks like in color.

And, Gentle Reader, so we find ourselves where we are today, at the confluence of waving and flourescing fractals.  On the “pathological curve”.  Pondering the essential difficulty of going “outside”.  For example, I’m toying with the idea of entering a writing competition.  This has had predictable results, as in Mental Paralysis.  So, fine, that’s an old rough spot and, things being equal, probably we could map it out.  But of course things are not equal and countervaling pressures create yet another, if familiar, rough spot.  As in, for once in my life I think I really need to stay put, hunker down with the rocks and trees here, dismantle the paralysis and allow its colors to flow into something more productive.  But outside things have their own, ineluctible reality; maintaining balance on this rough spot, where it seems as though I “must” once again go out into the classic paradigm to deal with what others want, and abandon these wild and rough spots that call so strongly- at present it is elusive.  It’s all a matter of perspective, of course.  But time, with its ribbon candy aspect, doesn’t always cooperate- as all abstract representations of reality tend to not do, periodically.  And the old formulae, the cubes and cones of our emotional past, don’t willingly submit to the wild beauty of the rough spots in our hearts.  So? As usual, I’m going to cook.  Today it is a preparation of beets with walnuts and garlic.  We’re hoping for inspiration.

West Coast Live

We’re listening to that right now, on our beloved Jefferson Public Radio, and they were interviewing Elisa Chapel,  and Susan Orlean, both of whom are WONDERFUL WRITERS.  GODDESSES. SMART!!  I love their writing and they’re darn good talkers too. I hope I spelled the names right.

This program, emanating from San Francisco, often makes my heart feel as though it is going to pop out of the cut in my chest, flop around and be awash in tears because there are ways I miss it all so much- at least the way things were at one time for me there.  Then I remind myself that this is now.  I lived there, worked there, was born there, actually, and now I have a whole new different life.  Which is pretty amazing, when you think about it.  Because, as unstable as it is, it is MY life at long last, nobody else’s, and I can do and dare and dream things I never could before.  Notwithstanding, of course, the fact that the world may blow to bits any minute.  JUST MY LUCK.

In any event today was spent fighting off a migraine and doing painstaking close up work.  You may think those things don’t go together, but actually? Once you get the pain to a dull thump and have ascertained there is no blood coming out your eyes or ears, sometimes it helps to have something to concentrate on while whatever remedy you’ve chosen wends its way toward the offending ball peen hammer in your skull.  This only works, naturally,  if it isn’t a smack down migraine, of the sort where you’d welcome someone simply shooting you fatally on the spot.  Just not in the head.

Anyway, it’s another lovely evening with a completely uncertain weather picture looming ahead.  I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts.  And, of course, wonder What To Make For Dinner.  And continue to fight the good migraine fight.