... some people have very generously come forward to express some concern for "my" well-being this past week due to the fact that I've not posted for awhile about baz's progress and health. This post is to those people with my gratitude :)
All is ticking along. :)
I am fine and am rather enjoying the down time for a bit while the weather is so intensely hot outside.
Baz is enjoying the down time snoozing in front of the tele and awaking to realize he has missed whole sets of The Hopman Cup! *giggle* He is sleeping a lot and I suspect that that could be a side-effect of the medications he is currently on.
He is calm and mostly reasonable but also a little "closed" too, but that is okay for now. We are both regrouping and finding our centre again after the emotional onslaught of the past month.
I still admit to feeling distant from and somewhat angry with him but its more muted now. I just want him well enough that we can start earning an income. As I have taken charge of some of the financial decisions in our family of late, it's hard to feel very confident that we will be looked after financially as I see our small cash supply slowly dwindling on everyday living expenses.
A part of me keeps saying "The money will come!" and indeed I know it will. I have given up being just too worried about financial outcomes and am learning to allow things to happen as they will and must. A rather large account from the accountant will need some negotiation on payment terms though. S'okay, we will survive :) We have incurred a few small personal loans from family and friends which we will pay back with interest in due course. Money is a fine blessing and a terrible curse. When we place too much emphasis on it it tends to distort what blessings we do (or don't) notice.
The new shop is coming along. We have probably one of the most blessed gifts anyone in this situation could be given and that is the gift of dedicated and helping friends. Our closest friends are stepping up and filling in where we cannot or dare not and its amazing what has been achieved in a couple of weeks with their determination and enthusiasm. If the new shop had been left to me to organise on my own, it would never have gotten this far! I have absolutely no idea about painting, "bogging", cutting in and cabinetry. Thank God for handy friends eh? :)
The kids are taking it all in their stride. It's school holidays and being the self-obsessed teens that they are, they seem to be skirting around this past months life-glitch with equanimity.
I'm still planning on leaving for Germany on the 3rd of Feb. The kids will most likely have the rudest shock of all with mum being "on strike" for nearly a month. It IS time they learned that the dishes don't wash themselves and that clothes need to stay folded in order to look good when you want to wear them! The iron is not just that heavy, odd-shaped thing in the cupboard... it's USEFUL and sometimes necessary!!! hahaha! We will see. The mother bird is tossing her babies out of the nest now and MAKING them fly all by themselves! It's time!
Even if our business isn't officially opened by the time I leave, at least baz will have his leisure to get it set up and slowly discover his love for his craft again in due course. When I get back from my trip, we will do the big public Grand Opening splash :) I am looking forward to doing that! I LIKE doing public awareness campaigns! hahaha :)
Time is ephemeral right now. There is the hint of pressure but it is sort of far-away and has this weird, warpy feel to it. Things feel slow and a little bit dreamy. Not really urgent...not even overly "important" even though there are many things that are!
I feel well though. I am excited about my forthcoming adventure and I am content within myself. Life is flowing without having to push and shove just too hard. I guess that shoving will have to come in time and I WILL work hard this coming year as and when I must. In the meantime, I'm kicking back and letting the flux of change go around and around while I stay centred in the hub and enjoy the view.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Resolve
Dear Alexys tagged me for the current cyber-chase game around New Years Resolutions.
I was honoured but also a little chagrined too. I don't put a lot of faith in my NYR's. Most of the time they're mere wishful thinking and not concrete objectives at all.
It's all well and good to say one is going to "lose" 10kg but its quite another to give up the very foods that helped you gained it in the first place! :)
So... I am only going to "half play" this game today. I am not going to post the special box with all the other bloggers notions and protestations on NYR's. Nor am I going to tag anyone new for this game. I AM going to explore what it is that I resolve to do with my life as I see it from this end of the year 2008.
First of all I resolve to be more loving. It's actually quite difficult for me to be a genuinely loving person. I hold myself back from demonstrative loving behaviour, unless there are two conditions involved; a) I have known the person/s for some time b) I believe them when they tell me in word and/or deed that they love me too.
I'd like to be more genuine in the way I love. To love more outrageously than I have in the past. I'm not sure its possible really. It's a scary idea.
This isn't about "love" in the erotic sense of course but the other vast varieties of love that exist between people. I want to be able to genuinely LOVE people without the cautious barriers, the cynical undercurrents of suspicion and guardedness. I want to love people just because... and attempt to let go, a bit, of that cool distance that so protects me from being wounded.
So what else is after that?
Not much really.
There is NOTHING in all time and space that can compare to Love. It's all there is in the end.
In this crazy, mixed up, frightened, disastrously abused world of ours, I reckon just the resolve to BE more loving is about as much as anyone could ask for in a year. Everything else I get done is gravy :)
With Love comes Peace.
With Peace comes Joy.
With Joy comes Hope.
With Hope comes Faith.
With Faith comes Love again.
PS... if you have a blog and would like to join in the game properly (unlike my very half-hearted effort here), then I encourage you to cut and paste the section from Alexys posting on the subject and go for it :)
I was honoured but also a little chagrined too. I don't put a lot of faith in my NYR's. Most of the time they're mere wishful thinking and not concrete objectives at all.
It's all well and good to say one is going to "lose" 10kg but its quite another to give up the very foods that helped you gained it in the first place! :)
So... I am only going to "half play" this game today. I am not going to post the special box with all the other bloggers notions and protestations on NYR's. Nor am I going to tag anyone new for this game. I AM going to explore what it is that I resolve to do with my life as I see it from this end of the year 2008.
First of all I resolve to be more loving. It's actually quite difficult for me to be a genuinely loving person. I hold myself back from demonstrative loving behaviour, unless there are two conditions involved; a) I have known the person/s for some time b) I believe them when they tell me in word and/or deed that they love me too.
I'd like to be more genuine in the way I love. To love more outrageously than I have in the past. I'm not sure its possible really. It's a scary idea.
This isn't about "love" in the erotic sense of course but the other vast varieties of love that exist between people. I want to be able to genuinely LOVE people without the cautious barriers, the cynical undercurrents of suspicion and guardedness. I want to love people just because... and attempt to let go, a bit, of that cool distance that so protects me from being wounded.
So what else is after that?
Not much really.
There is NOTHING in all time and space that can compare to Love. It's all there is in the end.
In this crazy, mixed up, frightened, disastrously abused world of ours, I reckon just the resolve to BE more loving is about as much as anyone could ask for in a year. Everything else I get done is gravy :)
With Love comes Peace.
With Peace comes Joy.
With Joy comes Hope.
With Hope comes Faith.
With Faith comes Love again.
PS... if you have a blog and would like to join in the game properly (unlike my very half-hearted effort here), then I encourage you to cut and paste the section from Alexys posting on the subject and go for it :)
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Dreams of 08
Today, New Year's Day 2008, I am reminded of a kind of "dream" I had quite some months ago.
In a series of moving pictures inside my mind (It was a kind of lucid dream I think) while sitting at the PC across the room here, I imagined the following thing.
An old fashioned racing car, coloured green and emblazoned with the number 08 on its side. I couldn't find an accurate image of it but the one shown here is very close to how I imagined the car.
Now that it is "08". I am rather strangely and suddenly reminded of this image.
Was it a portent of some kind? At the time of the vision, I had no idea what it meant and it was mixed in with a bunch of other images too that flowed from one to another. Of course my memory of that dream is now disjointed and I have forgotten some of the pieces to it but certain elements stand out clearly.
Racing into 08?
I'm not sure. To be honest, I do believe in the potential of dreams to provide a forecast of the future. The Old Testament is rife with this kind of oracle of the prophets, through whom God told his people, in imagery, what lay ahead. Interpretation though, in this current age, isn't easy though; we seem to have lost the ability to understand and translate visual symbols for ourselves without clever and energetic Hollywood editing!
The elements in this racing car are surreal for me. For one thing I do NOT know anything about historic f1 racing vehicles and have not really followed the history of this sport. Why I should dream of this specific type of vehicle is strange. I will say that I have always liked the "shape" of these older f1 cars better than I like the shape of current f1 cars!
The colour green is my favourite. That deep, rich emerald quality green that is strong but not violent. I feel best when I am surrounded by the depth and richness of this colour. To me it has clarity and strength even while it reminds me of the calm peace of nature. Diamonds are beautiful but seem cold and heartless against the depth of a true emerald.
The number 08: Well my only hunch is the fact that today is the first day of 08 like I said! Why this is important is anyones guess. I do suspect that this coming year will be a very full year of many delights and challenges...but then most years are like that eh? :)
And so I am left wondering and not a little perplexed as to why this image, of this weird little car, has come back to me this day.
What do I intend for this coming year anyway?
* I intend to travel and am booked to fly to Germany this coming February. For the first time I'll meet my friend Martin and his family face-to-face instead of communicating over the net :) Am I nervous? Not really! It should be a fun month. Its close to two years since we met on the Genius Workshop and its not often that you stumble onto quality friendships that can go the distance.
* We, as in baz and I, intend to work on his wellness and health. The main thrust of this will be to establish an Action Plan that we can have ready to help him in the event of any further mania attacks. Of course, prevention will be our key priority.
* We also intend to open our new business premises so that baz has better working conditions and hours. The old premises is now shut permanently. I'm trying to organise some financial assistance from the bank to cover ourselves while we're not generating regular income. We expect to have the new shop up and running within the next couple of months. Even while I'm away for three weeks in February, baz will have time to make the shop work for him, first time, without the pressure of having to actually produce product too. If we get it open before I leave...then that will be good too. He is really looking forward to being back and doing what he was put here on earth to do...making great food :) (Some people fall into a career that is such a good fit for them they are a genius at it...my baz is one of these lucky people)
* One thing I do want to do this coming year, but which terrifies me even more than spending 5 hours in Bangkok Airport... and that is to figure out what exactly I SHOULD be doing with my writing! There is this gnawing desire deep within me to write "something" that would make a difference. To say I'd like to write a "novel" seems inordinately silly. I am terrified of the concept and all manner of excuses why I CANNOT do something like this immediately come to mind.
As a wife, mother, and business owner, my time and energy is split in many different ways. To find time to write and to enjoy the writing process can be frustrating and even draining. Frustration is the writer's biggest motivation killer!
I KNOW there is a story inside of me there somewhere! I just wish it would magically appear into the prefrontal cortex of my rational brain, so I could just get it out through my fingers onto the digital page!
When it comes to writing, I am no technician... I'm shocking at really polished writing as readers will attest. At best, I'm probably more the raw, emergent type writer as coined by Dave Pollard recently ... (I am still blushing about that :)). The writing just "comes" when it wants to without any help from me.
* I intend to keep up with my German language lessons. I'm getting better at being able to pick up the language I hear spoken and reading some of it but I totally SUCK at being able to construct and say my own sentences! It's very frustrating but I don't want to let this hiccup beat me. I suspect that if I can ride over the top of this challenge, it will click soon enough and I'll finally be able to say what I want to say without getting it "wrong" all the time!
Though it's hard to predict what the coming year will bring, I find myself a little apprehensive about it. Usually I am quite hopeful and positive about the coming of a New Year. I have always enjoyed the pleasure of starting afresh on a new page so to speak. However, this coming year seems to weigh on me a little today. It feels sort of "heavy" with unknown pressures and difficulties. It's a perspective I do hope won't continue for long.
Focusing on these rather gloomy feelings will only make me notice those occasions that occur this coming year where these feelings fully resonate, so my aim now is to consciously place my focus on the good moments I experience in this coming year and to savour them with attentive, in-the-moment joy.
The goal for 08 then for me is "Notice the Joy of your moments".
Monday, December 31, 2007
World Island
Was watching one of those National Geographic Channel doco's before on Megastructures.
This one was about the construction and development of another artificial "island" resort complex built specifically for the tourist market...the very wealthy tourist market... off the coast of Dubai. Similar to The Palm island resort built at vast expense a few years ago.
Years ago this sort of thing would have excited me no end. I'd have been awed by the scale and complexity and the sheer "genius" behind the concept.
Now my heart is filled with concern and dismay that human beings yet again just do not get it!
We keep pillaging and ripping nature apart all for the sake of providing that which only a very small percentage of the worlds population will be able to actually use.
From the rocks needed to reshape the entire coastline and to create an artificial reef around the structure so that the violent and sudden storm surges don't "wreck" the island sanctuaries inside the circle; to the special marine quality sand that was required to make the islands themselves - how MUCH of nature did the very wealthy Shah have to destroy in order to make this altar to the tourism dollar?
Apparently... it was "only" a mere US Fifteen Billion dollars worth!
How idiotic are we to assume that we can keep doing stuff like this?
The potential of changing all manner of ecosystems, like ocean currents, marine biology, water quality is yet unknown for such strategies....but can we afford NOT to know them?
What IF merely redirecting the force of the oceans power onto the coast of these Arab nations changes the patterns for weather and ocean currents so that we have yet more drought, more cataclysmic monsoonal rains and mud-slides, more erratic and changeable conditions around the world that affect food production and poverty?
What IF taking rocks from one place creates a bewildering array of biological and ecological "conditions" within the place where those rocks had thus far spent aeons, that literally caused the onset of other bewildering B & E conditions like the fall of dominoes?
What IF the world economy crashes in the next decade thereby eliminating or at least significantly reducing that expected influx of money into Dubai's coffers? Who will pay then?
In my youthful naiveté I would have thought this project a wonderful thing. With maturity and wisdom, I am beginning to wonder if mankind will EVER learn that we cannot keep messing with nature just for the sake of it!
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
shoes
I confess to being somewhat an accessory-aholic. I'm not sure if women are genetically wired for shoes and handbags but there is something inherently satisfying for me in the facile hunt for these items.
It's "Boxing Day".
In Australia, this day is becoming synonymous with Hyper-Consumerism. It is a day when people swarm by the multitudes to the big name stores to "grab a bargain" with whatever cash they have left over from the pre-Christmas purchasing madness.
It never ceases to amaze me that, for the amount of money expended in the two months lead up to Christmas morning, an equally enormous amount is spent on the day AFTER Christmas day. It's quite a phenomenon!
Of course, the lure of the Boxing Day Sales is to get goods at vastly reduced prices where ever possible! No one is content to pay full price for any item on this day...it is strictly about trying to "Score the bargain".
Today is the first Boxing Day that I've ever attempted venturing out on a shopping "spree".
How much we are conned in this actual consumer process is anyones guess. How the giant corporations can actually afford to sell stock at such "reduced" margins is a little frightening really. There are probably some complicated formulae to do with volume and mass-turnover I guess, that makes it all viable, but still, the fact that they can literally do this stuff like this is still kind of alarming really!
So what does this have to do with shoes?
I could have bought a hundred pairs of shoes today. I could have been enormously proud and pleased to have "scored a heap of bargains" in the process! I didn't. :) Go me! hahaha
I did take notice of an awful lot of shoes instead. Not just shoes on groaning sale tables but shoes on feet. Women's feet in particular. I noticed an enormous array of footwear from ridiculous sky rise 15cm high heels to the equally ridiculous flimsy flip-flops (otherwise known as "thongs" in Aussie jargon).
The range and quality of footwear is as diverse as the people that wear them. It's amazing how people treat their feet!
It was a fun experience really for me. The shops were absolutely bursting with bodies and people, and they all had different shoes on. Some followed current fashion trends but for most, it was obviously about what they felt comfortable in and could wear easily during "The Hunt" for those bargains. Although, I have to confess that wearing vertiginous heels on an escalator seems like shopping for a broken neck!
We did purchase a few things of course. Mostly gifts for others and I bought myself some cool books I am looking forward to reading.
Blind Faith by Ben Elton
Skinny Bitches by Rory Freedman and Kim Barnouin
Social Intelligence by Daniel Goleman
I'm expecting the last book in that collection to be the one that really challenges my perspective and point of view about a lot of stuff to do with people and relationships! I have high hopes for this read! :) I'll keep you posted. The print is disgustingly small in it though, so bear with me as I slog my way through it.
The Ben Elton one, I'm saving for my plane flight to Germany in Feb 08! *grin*
Addendum: In a cute, synchronous twist. About two hours after posting this, my Daughter and I went to see the new movie "P.S. I love you" at the cinema. Okay movie but I did laugh outright when it featured shoes! You gotta love that! :)
It's "Boxing Day".
In Australia, this day is becoming synonymous with Hyper-Consumerism. It is a day when people swarm by the multitudes to the big name stores to "grab a bargain" with whatever cash they have left over from the pre-Christmas purchasing madness.
It never ceases to amaze me that, for the amount of money expended in the two months lead up to Christmas morning, an equally enormous amount is spent on the day AFTER Christmas day. It's quite a phenomenon!
Of course, the lure of the Boxing Day Sales is to get goods at vastly reduced prices where ever possible! No one is content to pay full price for any item on this day...it is strictly about trying to "Score the bargain".
Today is the first Boxing Day that I've ever attempted venturing out on a shopping "spree".
How much we are conned in this actual consumer process is anyones guess. How the giant corporations can actually afford to sell stock at such "reduced" margins is a little frightening really. There are probably some complicated formulae to do with volume and mass-turnover I guess, that makes it all viable, but still, the fact that they can literally do this stuff like this is still kind of alarming really!
So what does this have to do with shoes?
I could have bought a hundred pairs of shoes today. I could have been enormously proud and pleased to have "scored a heap of bargains" in the process! I didn't. :) Go me! hahaha
I did take notice of an awful lot of shoes instead. Not just shoes on groaning sale tables but shoes on feet. Women's feet in particular. I noticed an enormous array of footwear from ridiculous sky rise 15cm high heels to the equally ridiculous flimsy flip-flops (otherwise known as "thongs" in Aussie jargon).
The range and quality of footwear is as diverse as the people that wear them. It's amazing how people treat their feet!
It was a fun experience really for me. The shops were absolutely bursting with bodies and people, and they all had different shoes on. Some followed current fashion trends but for most, it was obviously about what they felt comfortable in and could wear easily during "The Hunt" for those bargains. Although, I have to confess that wearing vertiginous heels on an escalator seems like shopping for a broken neck!
We did purchase a few things of course. Mostly gifts for others and I bought myself some cool books I am looking forward to reading.
Blind Faith by Ben Elton
Skinny Bitches by Rory Freedman and Kim Barnouin
Social Intelligence by Daniel Goleman
I'm expecting the last book in that collection to be the one that really challenges my perspective and point of view about a lot of stuff to do with people and relationships! I have high hopes for this read! :) I'll keep you posted. The print is disgustingly small in it though, so bear with me as I slog my way through it.
The Ben Elton one, I'm saving for my plane flight to Germany in Feb 08! *grin*
Addendum: In a cute, synchronous twist. About two hours after posting this, my Daughter and I went to see the new movie "P.S. I love you" at the cinema. Okay movie but I did laugh outright when it featured shoes! You gotta love that! :)
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Safety, Trust, Intimacy (Security).
A lovely bloke in Second life has been a big support this past week as I hid away from the pressures of my current reality and found solace inside my virtual world.
I went seeking company.
The irony is that I can very well seek the company of Real life friends and family here at home. I can visit flesh and blood people in their homes, or places of work and pour out my heart.
I have done that.
I have done plenty of that. I have poured tears and pain onto the shoulders of loved ones, wetting their clothes and causing their brows to furrow in concern and empathy. I have been supported, loved, honoured, protected, encased, endowed and lifted by the real life love of others.
So why would I seek to deny myself some more of that attention and go looking for it in a 3D cartoonesque landscape with impossible constraints in my ability to hug, hold, sob and be caressed out of this personal pain?
Because inside Second Life, the dichotomy between privacy and intimacy is defined and solved... exactly.
We all know the experience of telling a stranger our life story! Caught up on buses, trains, in planes, on boats or at large communal gatherings! You meet someone and somehow for whatever reason, you find yourself so drawn to them, you admit past sins, current failings, pain, sorrow; story after story of your past, your present and what you hope for in the future. You feel free to express all this and it even surprises you that you can so easily in front of someone you do not know and expect never to know well unless you exchange addresses and phone numbers of course.
We rarely engage with those same people beyond that first dramatically intimate conversation though. Even when we exchange personal information, it's difficult to justify taking it to the next step... toward the mutual intimacy of repeated friendship. Once we spill our guts on the first meeting, it feels somehow rude to keep up that relationship.
Safety. It's just about safety. Keeping things private and still all the while being able to be intimate.
This is what Second Life does for people. Except with a twist of extraordinary proportions. It's a shift in communication protocol for many.
Second life allows people to remain completely and entirely Anonymous and yet affords them the ability to become completely and entirely Intimate as well. One can speak to strangers, receive virtual hugs, be gently (but virtually) 'held' by another real life person but via a platform where both real life people can keep their identity very very safe.
Trust is synonymous with safety. You cannot trust without being assured that you are kept safe.
Many people who come to second life are looking for more than just an escape from their private first lives. They want CONNECTION AND INTIMACY.
Sometimes seeking that in their first life is a tedious, painful, terrifying process. As my friend Dave Pollard says in this post... people are judged by how they appear. We do it so instinctively in our first life we aren't aware of how much we alienate others from expressing their truth just through our infinitesimal reactions to their overt appearances.
If we don't' feel safe...we rarely if ever trust. If we don't/can't trust...then we rarely if ever achieve the intimacy we so desperately crave.
The twist to Second Life that is so extraordinary is that you can merely add that other person as a "friend" to your friends list. They keep their real life identity intact. You do not ever need to learn where they're from, what they actually do, who they really are; you just have their SL name. You can see if they're online in world (if they choose for you to be able to do that), and you can reconnect easily with them any time its convenient.
You can choose to engage some people in voice and some in text and still others in both forms of communication simultaneously.
Safety.
Trust.
Intimacy.
No wonder, some people become addicted to it. In Second Life you can be whatever you choose to be. You can hide. You can be "yourself". You can be an essence of the real life "self" you think yourself to be. You can retain and keep your personal identity entirely your own and yet still find enormous affection, warmth, friendship, honesty and incredible depth to the relationships you form inside this world.
Its so much EASIER to be open and share your soul when you know you cannot be judged for your packaging.
It's so much EASIER to relate to others one on one in a peaceful environment of sunshine or starlight when you don't have to wonder if you have food stuck between your teeth or why they just looked distracted when you were telling them about some embarrassing story from your childhood.
Second Life may seem "unrealistic" and may seem to lack "integrity" but that isn't always true. Integrity is a double edged sword. Integrity in real life with real faces, real bodies, real tears and very real, very discomforting habits is much, much harder than finding integrity and subsequently, genuine intimacy, through relationships in this anonymous virtual world.
Once deep trust and intimacy is established, Second Life affords people a way of moving toward more personal connections beyond the virtual environment if they both choose that. It is paced accordingly as people become comfortable with the progression of these new relationships.
Of course, unhealthy, codependent relationships are also found in this virtual world. This is probably the biggest "problem" with such a platform as Second Life. Damaged people of both genders who fall in love too much, too soon with people they assume they have gotten to "know" in world.
Yes! They might know them very well but it's important to keep perspective even so. Second life is fantastic for making new friends but I would never recommend permanent online relationships inside of this world without first acknowledging the move past anonymity to their real life physical identities. After all, nothing can really replace First Life for the Security of enduring, reality-based relationships!
The bloke I spoke to in world this week, gave me the gift of being there for me when I needed a safe place to let go and be "myself" without having to bare it all.
I am so thankful for surprise gifts like these.
I went seeking company.
The irony is that I can very well seek the company of Real life friends and family here at home. I can visit flesh and blood people in their homes, or places of work and pour out my heart.
I have done that.
I have done plenty of that. I have poured tears and pain onto the shoulders of loved ones, wetting their clothes and causing their brows to furrow in concern and empathy. I have been supported, loved, honoured, protected, encased, endowed and lifted by the real life love of others.
So why would I seek to deny myself some more of that attention and go looking for it in a 3D cartoonesque landscape with impossible constraints in my ability to hug, hold, sob and be caressed out of this personal pain?
Because inside Second Life, the dichotomy between privacy and intimacy is defined and solved... exactly.
We all know the experience of telling a stranger our life story! Caught up on buses, trains, in planes, on boats or at large communal gatherings! You meet someone and somehow for whatever reason, you find yourself so drawn to them, you admit past sins, current failings, pain, sorrow; story after story of your past, your present and what you hope for in the future. You feel free to express all this and it even surprises you that you can so easily in front of someone you do not know and expect never to know well unless you exchange addresses and phone numbers of course.
We rarely engage with those same people beyond that first dramatically intimate conversation though. Even when we exchange personal information, it's difficult to justify taking it to the next step... toward the mutual intimacy of repeated friendship. Once we spill our guts on the first meeting, it feels somehow rude to keep up that relationship.
Safety. It's just about safety. Keeping things private and still all the while being able to be intimate.
This is what Second Life does for people. Except with a twist of extraordinary proportions. It's a shift in communication protocol for many.
Second life allows people to remain completely and entirely Anonymous and yet affords them the ability to become completely and entirely Intimate as well. One can speak to strangers, receive virtual hugs, be gently (but virtually) 'held' by another real life person but via a platform where both real life people can keep their identity very very safe.
Trust is synonymous with safety. You cannot trust without being assured that you are kept safe.
Many people who come to second life are looking for more than just an escape from their private first lives. They want CONNECTION AND INTIMACY.
Sometimes seeking that in their first life is a tedious, painful, terrifying process. As my friend Dave Pollard says in this post... people are judged by how they appear. We do it so instinctively in our first life we aren't aware of how much we alienate others from expressing their truth just through our infinitesimal reactions to their overt appearances.
If we don't' feel safe...we rarely if ever trust. If we don't/can't trust...then we rarely if ever achieve the intimacy we so desperately crave.
The twist to Second Life that is so extraordinary is that you can merely add that other person as a "friend" to your friends list. They keep their real life identity intact. You do not ever need to learn where they're from, what they actually do, who they really are; you just have their SL name. You can see if they're online in world (if they choose for you to be able to do that), and you can reconnect easily with them any time its convenient.
You can choose to engage some people in voice and some in text and still others in both forms of communication simultaneously.
Safety.
Trust.
Intimacy.
No wonder, some people become addicted to it. In Second Life you can be whatever you choose to be. You can hide. You can be "yourself". You can be an essence of the real life "self" you think yourself to be. You can retain and keep your personal identity entirely your own and yet still find enormous affection, warmth, friendship, honesty and incredible depth to the relationships you form inside this world.
Its so much EASIER to be open and share your soul when you know you cannot be judged for your packaging.
It's so much EASIER to relate to others one on one in a peaceful environment of sunshine or starlight when you don't have to wonder if you have food stuck between your teeth or why they just looked distracted when you were telling them about some embarrassing story from your childhood.
Second Life may seem "unrealistic" and may seem to lack "integrity" but that isn't always true. Integrity is a double edged sword. Integrity in real life with real faces, real bodies, real tears and very real, very discomforting habits is much, much harder than finding integrity and subsequently, genuine intimacy, through relationships in this anonymous virtual world.
Once deep trust and intimacy is established, Second Life affords people a way of moving toward more personal connections beyond the virtual environment if they both choose that. It is paced accordingly as people become comfortable with the progression of these new relationships.
Of course, unhealthy, codependent relationships are also found in this virtual world. This is probably the biggest "problem" with such a platform as Second Life. Damaged people of both genders who fall in love too much, too soon with people they assume they have gotten to "know" in world.
Yes! They might know them very well but it's important to keep perspective even so. Second life is fantastic for making new friends but I would never recommend permanent online relationships inside of this world without first acknowledging the move past anonymity to their real life physical identities. After all, nothing can really replace First Life for the Security of enduring, reality-based relationships!
The bloke I spoke to in world this week, gave me the gift of being there for me when I needed a safe place to let go and be "myself" without having to bare it all.
I am so thankful for surprise gifts like these.
Friday, December 21, 2007
sunshine breaks
It's been a surreal week this week.
Tuesday evening saw me absolutely devastated that I had to decide if we could actually make it for our fully booked and paid for flight to Darwin. I decided at that time to hold off and wait.
Wednesday evening saw me alone and afraid and a poofteenth shy of implosion myself. It was only thanks to friends and Second life I was able to wrench my attitude and self from sinking into the "Dark night of the soul".
Thursday dawned, after two days of very minimal sleep, the drapes drawn and the world essentially cut off unless it was absolutely necessary to engage with it.
I was feeling surprisingly very well within myself Thursday. Despite the lack of sleep along with the heavy sense of foreboding and gloom, things felt somehow different. A friend came and helped with a bunch of welfare paperwork I had to get done. The decision about Darwin was still in limbo but at long last I felt very comfortable with the Either/Or arrangements. Good news about some small financial windfalls from our Tax Dept. brightened my outlook considerably.
That afternoon, I went shopping and bought baz a gift for christmas. Something I don't normally do. He's getting an iPod nano (shhhh!). I also sorted some stuff for my forthcoming trip to germany in Feb 08. The paperwork went smoothly at Centrelink.
I was given the most humbling experience of my life in being granted a hamper from our local Christian Emergency Food Centre. We've donated product to this place for years never expecting we'd ever be recipients of the service but it is deemed that we are worthy being small business owners who are currently income-less.
I feel a little bit guilty I guess...after all, I did just spent a weeks worth of grocery money on a frivolous "toy" for my husband but hey? What goes around comes around. It kind of feels a bit like being "paid back" for the years of generosity. I'll not complain. We'll pay it forward soon enough.
Spoke to baz on the phone and it was the first "normal" conversation I've had with him in well over a month. He sounds almost himself again and it was such a pleasure to be able to laugh and enjoy his good humour and wit again after such a long period of "crazy talk". His speech is a bit slurred and he is very heavily medicated right now. Hopefully, we can ease back in time to a place where the meds work at a comfortable and manageable level. I'm pretty much convinced now having lived through this that this is a genuine physiological illness and as such isn't "just" about someone who is simply highly "creative" and a "genius".
Bipolar Disorder in the Mania stage is a beast. An ugly snarling animal caged inside the body of a human being. It takes over their mind and rules their every function tossing reality aside like an empty tin can. It shows no mercy and its only claim to any right for existence is that it makes a person "More" of what they already are. Thing is...when a person is so much "More" than they normally are... they cease to be the people you know and love.
We pray of course that we'll never see the opposite of this Mania in baz though too. Another beast of equally horrible and dangerous proportions. Depression so vast and so encompassing as to rot a person from the heart out.
So anyway, I got all the bookwork done for our business and it felt good to have much of that stuff sorted and dealt with. Even though it was quite late when I finished, I still spent a long while in Second life again, just talking with new friends and it was good. Didn't get to bed until after 0130 this morning though. I was actually quite "wired" after my good day and thought it would be hard to go to bed but I slept well. It was a bit cute that as I went to get into my bed, I discovered our dear son, JD curled up under the blankets with the air conditioner set to the "Overnight Freeze" setting. I made him get up and go to his own bed :)
The decision was made as I got into my bed. My heart told me that the Darwin trip we'd planned wasn't going to happen... this time. I've subsequently postponed the journey to Easter next year. We are disappointed of course but it has proved to be the best decision for everyone in the final analysis.
Sunshine breaks through the seething storm clouds of dismay. I turn my face toward it and bask in the warmth of its golden glow; soaking up its healing light and being reassured that always after rain comes the rainbow of promise.
Tuesday evening saw me absolutely devastated that I had to decide if we could actually make it for our fully booked and paid for flight to Darwin. I decided at that time to hold off and wait.
Wednesday evening saw me alone and afraid and a poofteenth shy of implosion myself. It was only thanks to friends and Second life I was able to wrench my attitude and self from sinking into the "Dark night of the soul".
Thursday dawned, after two days of very minimal sleep, the drapes drawn and the world essentially cut off unless it was absolutely necessary to engage with it.
I was feeling surprisingly very well within myself Thursday. Despite the lack of sleep along with the heavy sense of foreboding and gloom, things felt somehow different. A friend came and helped with a bunch of welfare paperwork I had to get done. The decision about Darwin was still in limbo but at long last I felt very comfortable with the Either/Or arrangements. Good news about some small financial windfalls from our Tax Dept. brightened my outlook considerably.
That afternoon, I went shopping and bought baz a gift for christmas. Something I don't normally do. He's getting an iPod nano (shhhh!). I also sorted some stuff for my forthcoming trip to germany in Feb 08. The paperwork went smoothly at Centrelink.
I was given the most humbling experience of my life in being granted a hamper from our local Christian Emergency Food Centre. We've donated product to this place for years never expecting we'd ever be recipients of the service but it is deemed that we are worthy being small business owners who are currently income-less.
I feel a little bit guilty I guess...after all, I did just spent a weeks worth of grocery money on a frivolous "toy" for my husband but hey? What goes around comes around. It kind of feels a bit like being "paid back" for the years of generosity. I'll not complain. We'll pay it forward soon enough.
Spoke to baz on the phone and it was the first "normal" conversation I've had with him in well over a month. He sounds almost himself again and it was such a pleasure to be able to laugh and enjoy his good humour and wit again after such a long period of "crazy talk". His speech is a bit slurred and he is very heavily medicated right now. Hopefully, we can ease back in time to a place where the meds work at a comfortable and manageable level. I'm pretty much convinced now having lived through this that this is a genuine physiological illness and as such isn't "just" about someone who is simply highly "creative" and a "genius".
Bipolar Disorder in the Mania stage is a beast. An ugly snarling animal caged inside the body of a human being. It takes over their mind and rules their every function tossing reality aside like an empty tin can. It shows no mercy and its only claim to any right for existence is that it makes a person "More" of what they already are. Thing is...when a person is so much "More" than they normally are... they cease to be the people you know and love.
We pray of course that we'll never see the opposite of this Mania in baz though too. Another beast of equally horrible and dangerous proportions. Depression so vast and so encompassing as to rot a person from the heart out.
So anyway, I got all the bookwork done for our business and it felt good to have much of that stuff sorted and dealt with. Even though it was quite late when I finished, I still spent a long while in Second life again, just talking with new friends and it was good. Didn't get to bed until after 0130 this morning though. I was actually quite "wired" after my good day and thought it would be hard to go to bed but I slept well. It was a bit cute that as I went to get into my bed, I discovered our dear son, JD curled up under the blankets with the air conditioner set to the "Overnight Freeze" setting. I made him get up and go to his own bed :)
The decision was made as I got into my bed. My heart told me that the Darwin trip we'd planned wasn't going to happen... this time. I've subsequently postponed the journey to Easter next year. We are disappointed of course but it has proved to be the best decision for everyone in the final analysis.
Sunshine breaks through the seething storm clouds of dismay. I turn my face toward it and bask in the warmth of its golden glow; soaking up its healing light and being reassured that always after rain comes the rainbow of promise.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
the small things
Today I am weary.
Today I have hardly begun to attack my mounting To Do List.
Today I am hovering betwixt Heaven and Hell.
Second Life was "Heaven" this morning (...and well into the afternoon). Today I danced and lounged in the company of fine people who cared for me and paid me attention. It was gratifying and edifying and I shall treasure these folk for the rest of my born days for their lovely, gentle, supportive generosity to me this day. Thanks H. Thanks B.
My real life is a kind of amorphous "Hell". I stand on a wobbly platform between having to decide if I can take the kids on our summer holiday to Darwin to be with my sis and her family for Christmas or if we have to can the idea out of necessity just in case Baz is discharged (or discharges himself) from the acute unit within the next week or so. There are no real supports that we know of yet in place to channel his manic energy if that should happen. Technically, he is nowhere near well enough to even leave the acute unit but he is also "borderline" and quite capable of making his own decisions. If he was deemed to be "well" enough to be discharged while we were in Darwin, then where would he go and with whom would he stay. Until one is faced with this, one will never understand the limit to where friends and family boundaries can be stretched. Baz is too fragile, too vulnerable to another bout of extreme mania if he were to be left alone to fend for himself without support of the cloister of the acute unit! He may NOT leave over the course of the next 14 days, but who knows! No one can tell. Hence my dilemma in having to make a decision that impacts so many lives over a "simple" holiday travel plan!
I grieved last night over this. It seems so cut and dried for some people! "If it were MY husband in hospital...I'd not be going to Darwin!" etc etc. It is never what you assume it will be until you actually have to live it. This seemingly "simple" choice isn't so "simple" for all manner of incidental reasons and its been hell having to grapple with being comfortable with the "Either/Or" thing.
We still yet might go! I don't know!
My heart tells me we won't even so.
We shall see.
Beyond that dilemma, I just want to shut the world off. The light globe has blown in my overhead light here in the bedroom where I now spend a lot of my hours with Preciousss here to keep me company.
It's as if the burden of having to "do" is just too great at the moment. I have a bazillion things to get organised in any eventual scenario, but I cannot seem to find the wherewithal or the vigor to actually start anything.
I've hit a wall.
Not quite Depression but something almost near to it. A yearning to retreat, to hide away, to pretend that my life isn't so "horrible" or as ugly as it appears.
Thank God for Second Life. Just when I thought that my avatar 'Mikele' (There! Now you know my name), would never see inworld again, she has found a haven for spiritual and emotional rejuvenation; a sort of virtual hibernation with a social face on it.
It is here I can wallow in self pity or be captivated by the scintillating pleasures of other minds and faces. I can be objective about my personal drama, stand just a little off-stage and direct it some; it takes the edge off the pain.
I sound like a prat! But yes! For me this is hard. Anyone would quietly expect that a wife would just suck it up and endure because she's expected to do that...to be the tough and loving nurturer. I'm not even sure I'm wired for that shit!
It's hard to stay "in love" with ones husband who has a manic mental illness. I am reminded often by counsellors that I "still love the man but not the illness". I'm not sure I even KNOW who the man is under that illness anymore! He has been taken over by some entity with malevolent designs. I don't see baz under the cloak of sickness...not the "real" baz! Where did he go? How long has he been gone? I don't even KNOW the answers to those questions! When did all this happen?
Let's not go the way of the Guilt here! I know all about the Guilt. I'm "supposed" to just "love" him! But how can I? I don't even know him anymore to know how to love him! Is staying here and being with him on actual December 25 going to demonstrate my capacity for "Love" of this man? How the fuck do I know?
So yeah! I am having a all out pity party here. I'm sorry! I'm not brave. I'm not a martyr or a saint or some earth mother sugar goddess with special powers of courage and fortitude. I am selfish and disheartened. And I now swear like a sailor to boot!
Throw me into my virtual world and let me forget for the moment what it is to feel like this. It's such a little thing but oh so incredibly safe right now.
Today I have hardly begun to attack my mounting To Do List.
Today I am hovering betwixt Heaven and Hell.
Second Life was "Heaven" this morning (...and well into the afternoon). Today I danced and lounged in the company of fine people who cared for me and paid me attention. It was gratifying and edifying and I shall treasure these folk for the rest of my born days for their lovely, gentle, supportive generosity to me this day. Thanks H. Thanks B.
My real life is a kind of amorphous "Hell". I stand on a wobbly platform between having to decide if I can take the kids on our summer holiday to Darwin to be with my sis and her family for Christmas or if we have to can the idea out of necessity just in case Baz is discharged (or discharges himself) from the acute unit within the next week or so. There are no real supports that we know of yet in place to channel his manic energy if that should happen. Technically, he is nowhere near well enough to even leave the acute unit but he is also "borderline" and quite capable of making his own decisions. If he was deemed to be "well" enough to be discharged while we were in Darwin, then where would he go and with whom would he stay. Until one is faced with this, one will never understand the limit to where friends and family boundaries can be stretched. Baz is too fragile, too vulnerable to another bout of extreme mania if he were to be left alone to fend for himself without support of the cloister of the acute unit! He may NOT leave over the course of the next 14 days, but who knows! No one can tell. Hence my dilemma in having to make a decision that impacts so many lives over a "simple" holiday travel plan!
I grieved last night over this. It seems so cut and dried for some people! "If it were MY husband in hospital...I'd not be going to Darwin!" etc etc. It is never what you assume it will be until you actually have to live it. This seemingly "simple" choice isn't so "simple" for all manner of incidental reasons and its been hell having to grapple with being comfortable with the "Either/Or" thing.
We still yet might go! I don't know!
My heart tells me we won't even so.
We shall see.
Beyond that dilemma, I just want to shut the world off. The light globe has blown in my overhead light here in the bedroom where I now spend a lot of my hours with Preciousss here to keep me company.
It's as if the burden of having to "do" is just too great at the moment. I have a bazillion things to get organised in any eventual scenario, but I cannot seem to find the wherewithal or the vigor to actually start anything.
I've hit a wall.
Not quite Depression but something almost near to it. A yearning to retreat, to hide away, to pretend that my life isn't so "horrible" or as ugly as it appears.
Thank God for Second Life. Just when I thought that my avatar 'Mikele' (There! Now you know my name), would never see inworld again, she has found a haven for spiritual and emotional rejuvenation; a sort of virtual hibernation with a social face on it.
It is here I can wallow in self pity or be captivated by the scintillating pleasures of other minds and faces. I can be objective about my personal drama, stand just a little off-stage and direct it some; it takes the edge off the pain.
I sound like a prat! But yes! For me this is hard. Anyone would quietly expect that a wife would just suck it up and endure because she's expected to do that...to be the tough and loving nurturer. I'm not even sure I'm wired for that shit!
It's hard to stay "in love" with ones husband who has a manic mental illness. I am reminded often by counsellors that I "still love the man but not the illness". I'm not sure I even KNOW who the man is under that illness anymore! He has been taken over by some entity with malevolent designs. I don't see baz under the cloak of sickness...not the "real" baz! Where did he go? How long has he been gone? I don't even KNOW the answers to those questions! When did all this happen?
Let's not go the way of the Guilt here! I know all about the Guilt. I'm "supposed" to just "love" him! But how can I? I don't even know him anymore to know how to love him! Is staying here and being with him on actual December 25 going to demonstrate my capacity for "Love" of this man? How the fuck do I know?
So yeah! I am having a all out pity party here. I'm sorry! I'm not brave. I'm not a martyr or a saint or some earth mother sugar goddess with special powers of courage and fortitude. I am selfish and disheartened. And I now swear like a sailor to boot!
Throw me into my virtual world and let me forget for the moment what it is to feel like this. It's such a little thing but oh so incredibly safe right now.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
if you want to love me...this is how
Be calm with my drama.
Be honest with me about my weaknesses but also gentle in how you tell me of them.
Give me lots of warm attention.
Flirt with me but don't force me to engage sexually just because I tacitly "agree" to the flirtation process.
Show me your clever side. I am inspired by intellect and wit.
Show me your intuitive side. I am enamoured of perceptive wisdom.
Tell me with your words what you admire in me.
Tell me with your touch how much you like the person I am. I am always open for a hug and a warm embrace.
Give me space to let my mind wander vast distances but gently call me back to reality when its time to be real again.
Enjoy my laughter.
Give me a shoulder to cry on when I am stressed and afraid.
Don't be afraid of my tears; I'm more afraid of them than you will ever be.
If you need space to be alone then tell me; Don't leave me wondering if you still want to know me at all.
Help me UN-glue sometimes. I'm so into my doing coherence thing I can get a little too stuck for my own good and everyone elses.
Honour my Faith and my beliefs without scoffing or judging them.
Let me WHINGE sometimes when the pressure is too much. It's how I release the angst...I sound off and will be a bucket of poo about some things ...but just smile and tell me you love me anyway. I WILL get over it - I promise.
Touch me softly, often. Smile at me with your eyes. Caress me and hold me. Love for me is a physical entity all its own.
Talk to me intelligently about any number of new things. Stretch my mind to reach further and discover more. I am energised and sustained by the possibilities.
Let me cook but you don't need to actually like or eat what I cook. Just show you appreciate the effort I made because I love you back. My disappointment that I couldn't feed you won't last but my joy will be profound if you do enjoy what I prepare for the table.
Let me nurture you sometimes. Let me BE that silly "Mother Goose" who frets and fusses after your welfare. It soothes me to honour you this way. It feels like "practical" love.
Let me love you back. Completely, wholly, deeply and as passionately as I want.
See? I told you I was simple!
Be honest with me about my weaknesses but also gentle in how you tell me of them.
Give me lots of warm attention.
Flirt with me but don't force me to engage sexually just because I tacitly "agree" to the flirtation process.
Show me your clever side. I am inspired by intellect and wit.
Show me your intuitive side. I am enamoured of perceptive wisdom.
Tell me with your words what you admire in me.
Tell me with your touch how much you like the person I am. I am always open for a hug and a warm embrace.
Give me space to let my mind wander vast distances but gently call me back to reality when its time to be real again.
Enjoy my laughter.
Give me a shoulder to cry on when I am stressed and afraid.
Don't be afraid of my tears; I'm more afraid of them than you will ever be.
If you need space to be alone then tell me; Don't leave me wondering if you still want to know me at all.
Help me UN-glue sometimes. I'm so into my doing coherence thing I can get a little too stuck for my own good and everyone elses.
Honour my Faith and my beliefs without scoffing or judging them.
Let me WHINGE sometimes when the pressure is too much. It's how I release the angst...I sound off and will be a bucket of poo about some things ...but just smile and tell me you love me anyway. I WILL get over it - I promise.
Touch me softly, often. Smile at me with your eyes. Caress me and hold me. Love for me is a physical entity all its own.
Talk to me intelligently about any number of new things. Stretch my mind to reach further and discover more. I am energised and sustained by the possibilities.
Let me cook but you don't need to actually like or eat what I cook. Just show you appreciate the effort I made because I love you back. My disappointment that I couldn't feed you won't last but my joy will be profound if you do enjoy what I prepare for the table.
Let me nurture you sometimes. Let me BE that silly "Mother Goose" who frets and fusses after your welfare. It soothes me to honour you this way. It feels like "practical" love.
Let me love you back. Completely, wholly, deeply and as passionately as I want.
See? I told you I was simple!
Monday, December 17, 2007
ingenuous
I wear my heart on my sleeve.
I always have and probably always will. I have no ability whatsoever to hide what I'm really feeling. Oh sure! I can fool those who don't know me but never those who do.
When I love I love whole-heartedly. When I don't love I disengage and step back and become dutiful but distant.
My sis says I am "deep". I think I'm just simple.
One of the current lessons I'm having to learn is to fully engage with my feelings and emotions and live inside of them. In the past, I have tended to do this odd thing where I dramatize and over-inflate minor feelings to grandiose proportions and subjugate and distill big feelings, pushing them down inside where they can't see the light of day.
It's not trickery. It's not perverse as such. It's just I cope better when emotion is a scene from a play. I can act it and savour the dramatic qualities of it allowing myself explore it from a kind of actresses vantage point; a sort of objective sense of it really.
Deep, raw, intense and very real emotion frightens me. I will attempt to disallow anyone to see these real depths. I can detach very well, for the most part, from this intensity of feeling. However, it still shows even so, in my bearing and my demeanor on the outside. Those who know me best can tell there is something going on. I can rarely tell them the whole truth of it though. I play up the small stuff and stifle the big stuff. Or try to anyway.
Blogging has given me a gift in this sense. Here I CAN say the deepest feelings of my being and place them into a coherent framework without having to fear the repercussions of their expression. In here, I get to be artless, honest and worldly, displaying my naive heart for "all the world" to see.
It's like being the actress I have always wanted to be, as well as the producer and the director of my own stage play. Blogging gives me a Carte Blanche script in which I can explore these deep and scary emotions, releasing them so to speak from having to actually live them silently and with constraint.
If I write of the depths of my sadness, it is diffused and softened into something other than profound sadness. If I write of my awe and wonder in something, the process suffuses the sense of that with coherent logic and slight detachment which prevents me from losing touch with reality completely.
Writing is obviously my souls way of dealing with things. It's my own version of the lucid dreaming state where I can push the boundaries of my thinking and explore what it means to be the way I am.
I AM simple though. It doesn't take much to cheer me, to sadden me, to uplift me or to nail me flat. I'm narcissistic, euphemistic, ideological, fantasy-driven, and completely ingenuous. I live for the Ideal Concept of Mind and am a complete dolt when it comes to being "real" about emotions.
They quite simply terrify me.
I always have and probably always will. I have no ability whatsoever to hide what I'm really feeling. Oh sure! I can fool those who don't know me but never those who do.
When I love I love whole-heartedly. When I don't love I disengage and step back and become dutiful but distant.
My sis says I am "deep". I think I'm just simple.
One of the current lessons I'm having to learn is to fully engage with my feelings and emotions and live inside of them. In the past, I have tended to do this odd thing where I dramatize and over-inflate minor feelings to grandiose proportions and subjugate and distill big feelings, pushing them down inside where they can't see the light of day.
It's not trickery. It's not perverse as such. It's just I cope better when emotion is a scene from a play. I can act it and savour the dramatic qualities of it allowing myself explore it from a kind of actresses vantage point; a sort of objective sense of it really.
Deep, raw, intense and very real emotion frightens me. I will attempt to disallow anyone to see these real depths. I can detach very well, for the most part, from this intensity of feeling. However, it still shows even so, in my bearing and my demeanor on the outside. Those who know me best can tell there is something going on. I can rarely tell them the whole truth of it though. I play up the small stuff and stifle the big stuff. Or try to anyway.
Blogging has given me a gift in this sense. Here I CAN say the deepest feelings of my being and place them into a coherent framework without having to fear the repercussions of their expression. In here, I get to be artless, honest and worldly, displaying my naive heart for "all the world" to see.
It's like being the actress I have always wanted to be, as well as the producer and the director of my own stage play. Blogging gives me a Carte Blanche script in which I can explore these deep and scary emotions, releasing them so to speak from having to actually live them silently and with constraint.
If I write of the depths of my sadness, it is diffused and softened into something other than profound sadness. If I write of my awe and wonder in something, the process suffuses the sense of that with coherent logic and slight detachment which prevents me from losing touch with reality completely.
Writing is obviously my souls way of dealing with things. It's my own version of the lucid dreaming state where I can push the boundaries of my thinking and explore what it means to be the way I am.
I AM simple though. It doesn't take much to cheer me, to sadden me, to uplift me or to nail me flat. I'm narcissistic, euphemistic, ideological, fantasy-driven, and completely ingenuous. I live for the Ideal Concept of Mind and am a complete dolt when it comes to being "real" about emotions.
They quite simply terrify me.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
changes
Faith hasn't died in me.
Not yet.
Yesterday when I posted, I was shattered and lonely beyond belief. One of the hardest moments of my life was having to leave Baz behind me as we drove home from visiting him in the acute unit. Last night I sobbed and grieved as if he'd died and I wouldn't ever have him back. I still feel the residual sense of that sadness today although not as acutely.
God seems far away to me even though I still believe he has this all under control and is fulfilling whatever plans he has instituted for our welfare. What we perceive as being a painful experience in our moments is most likely viewed by God as a mere bump or bruise toward some greater goal. It hurts him too but not nearly the same way as it hurts us as he sees the bigger picture.
It's hard talking about my faith though right now. I'm a little confused too. There are options that I have to consider that may seem contradictory to the structure and outward expression of what I believe. There are possibilities that stretch the boundaries of my particular faith but would also make it impossible for me to effectively communicate these to other Christians without being judged as straying from my faith or stepping over to some "dark side" of strange nefarious new age thinking.
I want to consider them though. The goal is Baz's wellness and his health. Beyond that is the Greater Good. Anything that helps fulfill this mission and is in the best interests of everyone filling each one with love and respect is worthy of investigation and pursuit. Even if those things seem to be weird or not really under the strict boundaries of my Christian faith expression as we Lutherans understand those boundaries to be.
I have been cautious about expressing my interest in holistic methods of healing for Baz because it generally causes eyebrows to rise and stern frowns to creep across brows. It's "easier" to speak to non-Christian friends about my wanting to explore paths of healing that are not necessarily "Christian" in their philosophy or ideology.
It hurts to have to be like this. I can see why Paul wrote that no man/women can serve two masters. You're either for one or not. To be a Christian can seem extraordinarily stupid though when it comes to the kind of possibilities one must ignore or pass over just because they are not .... "Christian".
Then again...who says that modern medicine is ethically and wholly "Christian" either? Why would my Christian brothers and sisters applaud this medical, chemical model of wellness as being entirely the "right thing" for Baz and yet be shocked and appalled when I consider other less medical models of wellness that go to the heart of him and help him to explore his current state with minimal chemical intervention?
I'm not giving up my faith. As hard as it is right now for me to embrace it and be comforted by it I can't and I shall not give it up or forsake Christ on the basis that he feels distant in this moment.
He hasn't moved away after all. He is here with me. For the moment, I think perhaps that he is watching me stumble my way through this jungle of emotions, choices and changes in life. I need to grow to walk on my own emotional feet. God is not a crutch for everlasting broken limbs but a friend who sticks with you in sickness and in health. The Spirit brings Confidence which is the sum of experiences survived and challenges met.
Things will change. Just as the earth turns on its axis, my life will change. God will make those changes into opportunities for more changes. Nothing remains the same for very long. Growth is change. Life is about the steady rhythms of change. Baz will change and I will change - our kids will change. Faith will change. Only Christ will remain. He is the axis around which all things revolve.
Hope is believing that these changes will be good no matter how it feels at the time.
Freedom to believe is just that...freedom. Anyone who enforces a code of conduct onto another under some "rule" about what is supposed to be believed in does not understand love or faith.
The simplicity of Christianity is that the ONLY thing worth keeping out of all the human drivel that pads it is that "God so loved the world, He gave his only son that whoever believes in him should not die but have everlasting life".
This is my faith
...and it will do.
everything else is negotiable...even HOW Baz gets well.
Not yet.
Yesterday when I posted, I was shattered and lonely beyond belief. One of the hardest moments of my life was having to leave Baz behind me as we drove home from visiting him in the acute unit. Last night I sobbed and grieved as if he'd died and I wouldn't ever have him back. I still feel the residual sense of that sadness today although not as acutely.
God seems far away to me even though I still believe he has this all under control and is fulfilling whatever plans he has instituted for our welfare. What we perceive as being a painful experience in our moments is most likely viewed by God as a mere bump or bruise toward some greater goal. It hurts him too but not nearly the same way as it hurts us as he sees the bigger picture.
It's hard talking about my faith though right now. I'm a little confused too. There are options that I have to consider that may seem contradictory to the structure and outward expression of what I believe. There are possibilities that stretch the boundaries of my particular faith but would also make it impossible for me to effectively communicate these to other Christians without being judged as straying from my faith or stepping over to some "dark side" of strange nefarious new age thinking.
I want to consider them though. The goal is Baz's wellness and his health. Beyond that is the Greater Good. Anything that helps fulfill this mission and is in the best interests of everyone filling each one with love and respect is worthy of investigation and pursuit. Even if those things seem to be weird or not really under the strict boundaries of my Christian faith expression as we Lutherans understand those boundaries to be.
I have been cautious about expressing my interest in holistic methods of healing for Baz because it generally causes eyebrows to rise and stern frowns to creep across brows. It's "easier" to speak to non-Christian friends about my wanting to explore paths of healing that are not necessarily "Christian" in their philosophy or ideology.
It hurts to have to be like this. I can see why Paul wrote that no man/women can serve two masters. You're either for one or not. To be a Christian can seem extraordinarily stupid though when it comes to the kind of possibilities one must ignore or pass over just because they are not .... "Christian".
Then again...who says that modern medicine is ethically and wholly "Christian" either? Why would my Christian brothers and sisters applaud this medical, chemical model of wellness as being entirely the "right thing" for Baz and yet be shocked and appalled when I consider other less medical models of wellness that go to the heart of him and help him to explore his current state with minimal chemical intervention?
I'm not giving up my faith. As hard as it is right now for me to embrace it and be comforted by it I can't and I shall not give it up or forsake Christ on the basis that he feels distant in this moment.
He hasn't moved away after all. He is here with me. For the moment, I think perhaps that he is watching me stumble my way through this jungle of emotions, choices and changes in life. I need to grow to walk on my own emotional feet. God is not a crutch for everlasting broken limbs but a friend who sticks with you in sickness and in health. The Spirit brings Confidence which is the sum of experiences survived and challenges met.
Things will change. Just as the earth turns on its axis, my life will change. God will make those changes into opportunities for more changes. Nothing remains the same for very long. Growth is change. Life is about the steady rhythms of change. Baz will change and I will change - our kids will change. Faith will change. Only Christ will remain. He is the axis around which all things revolve.
Hope is believing that these changes will be good no matter how it feels at the time.
Freedom to believe is just that...freedom. Anyone who enforces a code of conduct onto another under some "rule" about what is supposed to be believed in does not understand love or faith.
The simplicity of Christianity is that the ONLY thing worth keeping out of all the human drivel that pads it is that "God so loved the world, He gave his only son that whoever believes in him should not die but have everlasting life".
This is my faith
...and it will do.
everything else is negotiable...even HOW Baz gets well.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
too far away
I was asked to write when things were 'good' and not always write when things are 'bad'.
I'm not yet in that zone.
Things are not very good and nor are they desperately bad.
Right now is not a good moment and in my perverse, narcissistic way I need to channel the force of that 'badness' into these words; as if to extinguish them through the light of awareness.
I am sobbing and God is far away.
The depths of my loneliness seem unfathomable. For all the care, love and concern of my dear friends and family...I still feel hollow and empty of the love I want.
I don't want this! it is too much. Take it away.
I'm not yet in that zone.
Things are not very good and nor are they desperately bad.
Right now is not a good moment and in my perverse, narcissistic way I need to channel the force of that 'badness' into these words; as if to extinguish them through the light of awareness.
I am sobbing and God is far away.
The depths of my loneliness seem unfathomable. For all the care, love and concern of my dear friends and family...I still feel hollow and empty of the love I want.
I don't want this! it is too much. Take it away.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Learning to accept the offers of assistance
There is this interesting thing we do here in Australia. When one finds that a friend or associate has fallen on hard times, out of courtesy and concern we offer our assistance but in a very specific sort of way.
We say stuff like "If there's anything I can do to help just ask".
Often, and even I am guilty of this on occasion, we tend to assume that our offer is merely a polite way of saying "I'm here for you and am thinking of you but I don't expect or want you to call me even so".
The one suffering though has a different take on it. "It's nice of you to offer but I will have to do this myself because I can tell you aren't really able to assist me right now".
And so we have this dichotomy of a person being under great duress and being a martyr to everything life has thrown at them and friends and acquaintances stepping back and just "waiting" to be asked for their help if and when it might be required.
I refuse to buy into this social currency.
If someone offers to help me I WILL consider their support as necessary. Right now I have friends who have offered their support in getting our new shop functional. I have accepted their support and assistance, it's one less thing I need to handle.
I have told the Bank Manager to talk directly with our Accountant to get the financial wheels turning on our future. One less thing I have to handle
A friend offered to bring around some supper tonight. I can't be stuffed cooking right now...so absolutely please!
I'm no wuss but at the same time I am not a saint either! I am barely able to withstand the current demands of my To Do list! I do need help to cope with the onslaught of stuff coming at me. I will take whatever help comes my way.
In time...I will pay that help forward to someone else in need.
Right now though, it's time I learn the lessons of humility and gratitude and simple acceptance of what is.
It can however be the toughest life lesson of them all when ones pride and sense of personal power is being wounded and bruised.
I'm not sad about this. There is a level of strange joy in acknowledging when one is powerless to do it all. Humility brings not just grace but also release from too much pride. Pride is a hard task master and a shocking Judge. Times like these when the world seems to fall apart around you just gives Pride the opportunity to take a holiday and get a grip and you are reminded that you are loved for you ARE ...not for what you can do.
We say stuff like "If there's anything I can do to help just ask".
Often, and even I am guilty of this on occasion, we tend to assume that our offer is merely a polite way of saying "I'm here for you and am thinking of you but I don't expect or want you to call me even so".
The one suffering though has a different take on it. "It's nice of you to offer but I will have to do this myself because I can tell you aren't really able to assist me right now".
And so we have this dichotomy of a person being under great duress and being a martyr to everything life has thrown at them and friends and acquaintances stepping back and just "waiting" to be asked for their help if and when it might be required.
I refuse to buy into this social currency.
If someone offers to help me I WILL consider their support as necessary. Right now I have friends who have offered their support in getting our new shop functional. I have accepted their support and assistance, it's one less thing I need to handle.
I have told the Bank Manager to talk directly with our Accountant to get the financial wheels turning on our future. One less thing I have to handle
A friend offered to bring around some supper tonight. I can't be stuffed cooking right now...so absolutely please!
I'm no wuss but at the same time I am not a saint either! I am barely able to withstand the current demands of my To Do list! I do need help to cope with the onslaught of stuff coming at me. I will take whatever help comes my way.
In time...I will pay that help forward to someone else in need.
Right now though, it's time I learn the lessons of humility and gratitude and simple acceptance of what is.
It can however be the toughest life lesson of them all when ones pride and sense of personal power is being wounded and bruised.
I'm not sad about this. There is a level of strange joy in acknowledging when one is powerless to do it all. Humility brings not just grace but also release from too much pride. Pride is a hard task master and a shocking Judge. Times like these when the world seems to fall apart around you just gives Pride the opportunity to take a holiday and get a grip and you are reminded that you are loved for you ARE ...not for what you can do.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Lounging
Today I feel lighter and slightly more cheerful.
One of the better things I've done this past week is to just quietly spend time RESTING here at home.
This morning I've not even really gotten out of bed and its already after midday here. I have gone to get my breakfast, taken phone calls and other such out of bed activities but mostly I have snuggled up here with my laptop and just chilled out a bit.
I talked with my friend Martin for a long while (he's always been good at cheering me up) and I've rounded up and paid some bills online that were pressing on my consciousness. So I have sort of "worked" as well as taken some very much needed and valuable down time too.
In a few minutes I'll have to go get showered and dressed ready to face the rest of my coming day whatever it may hold. There are bank managers to see and so on.
I am slowly getting my piles of notes and bits of paper under control. I have more phone calls to make too.
Baz has contacted me a couple of times this morning about little things. I suspect he's really a bit lonely for his dear wife and is hooking onto any small detail that provides an opportunity to connect and talk. He's still really difficult to talk to although no where nearly as bad of course. A friend who has been to see him in hospital said that currently their little 5 year old boy has a longer attention span than my dear baz! *giggle*
They have put him on different medications now as well as a sedative. Today he seems much calmer, less frantic/manic. He's slower and a little slurred in his speaking. He is still drinking water like a fish though
He's the "only" one in the unit at hospital with the mania side of bipolar. Most of the people surrounding him are severely depressed. Because he is so hyperactive, he is being a little bit of a disturbance to others in the early hours of the morning so hence the sedative to help him sleep a full 8 hours instead of the 4 to 6 he currently only manages.
He is having some scary nightmares which also may account for his inability to sleep. He may have to do some deep therapy to find the source of those nightmares, and to face them to their conclusion. (My recent dream of the tapir men interestingly had a conclusion which may perhaps account for why its not bothered me like baz's dreams do for him right now)
Today is however, a better day. Yesterday I felt very lost and afraid. Today I feel ...well not overly confident as such...just more cheerful and rested.
Que Sera Sera :)
One of the better things I've done this past week is to just quietly spend time RESTING here at home.
This morning I've not even really gotten out of bed and its already after midday here. I have gone to get my breakfast, taken phone calls and other such out of bed activities but mostly I have snuggled up here with my laptop and just chilled out a bit.
I talked with my friend Martin for a long while (he's always been good at cheering me up) and I've rounded up and paid some bills online that were pressing on my consciousness. So I have sort of "worked" as well as taken some very much needed and valuable down time too.
In a few minutes I'll have to go get showered and dressed ready to face the rest of my coming day whatever it may hold. There are bank managers to see and so on.
I am slowly getting my piles of notes and bits of paper under control. I have more phone calls to make too.
Baz has contacted me a couple of times this morning about little things. I suspect he's really a bit lonely for his dear wife and is hooking onto any small detail that provides an opportunity to connect and talk. He's still really difficult to talk to although no where nearly as bad of course. A friend who has been to see him in hospital said that currently their little 5 year old boy has a longer attention span than my dear baz! *giggle*
They have put him on different medications now as well as a sedative. Today he seems much calmer, less frantic/manic. He's slower and a little slurred in his speaking. He is still drinking water like a fish though
He's the "only" one in the unit at hospital with the mania side of bipolar. Most of the people surrounding him are severely depressed. Because he is so hyperactive, he is being a little bit of a disturbance to others in the early hours of the morning so hence the sedative to help him sleep a full 8 hours instead of the 4 to 6 he currently only manages.
He is having some scary nightmares which also may account for his inability to sleep. He may have to do some deep therapy to find the source of those nightmares, and to face them to their conclusion. (My recent dream of the tapir men interestingly had a conclusion which may perhaps account for why its not bothered me like baz's dreams do for him right now)
Today is however, a better day. Yesterday I felt very lost and afraid. Today I feel ...well not overly confident as such...just more cheerful and rested.
Que Sera Sera :)
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
overwhelmed
Today is a tough day.
I'm struggling within myself to cope with the mounting workload set before me. Not only that I am feeling completely crushed by the possibilities that lay ahead in helping my husband (I think I'll just call him Baz from here on in), towards wellness.
Bi-polar disorder is not an "easy" fix thing. You can't just assume that a pill will solve everything and all will be fine. It's a spectrum disorder of emotion and mind. It's treatable and that's all well and good but there's a fine line from day to day, week to week and month to month about where the "Optimum" level of treatment could lie.
I was prepared today by Baz's General Practitioner to be ready for a "rocky year". It wasn't encouraging but still it was pragmatic too. I'm not being blinded by the "Professionals" here into thinking everything will be completely hunky-dory next year. Of course there is the other likli-hood that things WILL be fine too but idealism isn't my forte today.
I just don't know if I can cope with my family, with the change to our business, and my husband's health issues. I want space, time and some freedom from this overwhelming sense of pressure.
There's so much paperwork to get done before our holiday. The phone bills on the home phone and my mobile phone will be enormous this month. I'm supposed to be "frugal" as we have no income but HOW? It's just crazy!
Depression and sadness are looming just around the corner of my own psyche. Joy and Hope seem distant and un-reachable. They are there of course and I know I'll find them again...probably very soon...but for today, it's hard to see through the clouds of doubt and despair.
Am I being selfish? Inconsiderate? Probably! I'm supposed to suck it up and be the strong one for now. Baz needs me and I need to be there for him for now. It's not that I don't love him...it's just that I don't love the disease in him! There's a difference. I feel smothered and entrapped by it - cloistered and chained.
Those bills still need to be paid though. The kids go to their end of year service tonight and I'm staying home to begin attending to these details. I shall pray after every transaction and cheque written, that replacement funds will continue to come in to meet the next round of payments.
Is this just about 'The Money'? Probably! With Baz not working and not anytime soon, I am terrified of having nothing left come January for my own holiday to germany. Yes! I am THAT selfish in still wanting to go there! In fact I am more determined than ever to get there...it's appearing on the horizon for me like an oasis in a desert of uncertainty and I am crawling towards it determined to drink from the well-spring of peace it potentially offers.
My family and our friends have been nothing less than extraordinary in their love and support. I am being showered by the good-will and generosity, both in spirit and financially of my dear ones. God seriously blessed baz and me with an extraordinary support team. They're His hands to us in our time of need. I am grateful and humbled and I can in no way ever repay these kindnesses.
I have been telling myself today over and over that there are many people doing it tougher and harder than us this Christmas. I feel grateful for small mercies but struggle with this sense of overwhelming distortion of perception and sheer worry about our future.
I just want my husband back.
I'm struggling within myself to cope with the mounting workload set before me. Not only that I am feeling completely crushed by the possibilities that lay ahead in helping my husband (I think I'll just call him Baz from here on in), towards wellness.
Bi-polar disorder is not an "easy" fix thing. You can't just assume that a pill will solve everything and all will be fine. It's a spectrum disorder of emotion and mind. It's treatable and that's all well and good but there's a fine line from day to day, week to week and month to month about where the "Optimum" level of treatment could lie.
I was prepared today by Baz's General Practitioner to be ready for a "rocky year". It wasn't encouraging but still it was pragmatic too. I'm not being blinded by the "Professionals" here into thinking everything will be completely hunky-dory next year. Of course there is the other likli-hood that things WILL be fine too but idealism isn't my forte today.
I just don't know if I can cope with my family, with the change to our business, and my husband's health issues. I want space, time and some freedom from this overwhelming sense of pressure.
There's so much paperwork to get done before our holiday. The phone bills on the home phone and my mobile phone will be enormous this month. I'm supposed to be "frugal" as we have no income but HOW? It's just crazy!
Depression and sadness are looming just around the corner of my own psyche. Joy and Hope seem distant and un-reachable. They are there of course and I know I'll find them again...probably very soon...but for today, it's hard to see through the clouds of doubt and despair.
Am I being selfish? Inconsiderate? Probably! I'm supposed to suck it up and be the strong one for now. Baz needs me and I need to be there for him for now. It's not that I don't love him...it's just that I don't love the disease in him! There's a difference. I feel smothered and entrapped by it - cloistered and chained.
Those bills still need to be paid though. The kids go to their end of year service tonight and I'm staying home to begin attending to these details. I shall pray after every transaction and cheque written, that replacement funds will continue to come in to meet the next round of payments.
Is this just about 'The Money'? Probably! With Baz not working and not anytime soon, I am terrified of having nothing left come January for my own holiday to germany. Yes! I am THAT selfish in still wanting to go there! In fact I am more determined than ever to get there...it's appearing on the horizon for me like an oasis in a desert of uncertainty and I am crawling towards it determined to drink from the well-spring of peace it potentially offers.
My family and our friends have been nothing less than extraordinary in their love and support. I am being showered by the good-will and generosity, both in spirit and financially of my dear ones. God seriously blessed baz and me with an extraordinary support team. They're His hands to us in our time of need. I am grateful and humbled and I can in no way ever repay these kindnesses.
I have been telling myself today over and over that there are many people doing it tougher and harder than us this Christmas. I feel grateful for small mercies but struggle with this sense of overwhelming distortion of perception and sheer worry about our future.
I just want my husband back.
Monday, December 10, 2007
first tiny steps to wellness
Hubby is on the slow road to recovery now.
he's phoned me a couple of times already from his hospital bed. He's lucid, much calmer than he has been but there is still a long way to go.
I can hear the slurring of his words and he is still flighty and jumpy about things. He demonstrates his anxiety in the details. Today he was anxious about some taxation stuff from 2004! :) It's sort of cute at the moment because he's not here pestering me about it but still, these little concerns that loom so large in his mind will perhaps wear me down over time. Learning what to take on board and what to let go will be my biggest challenge in his recovery.
I'm exhausted! And it's only the beginning of the week.
Today I had more phone-calls, visitors, and appointments than I think I've had all year combined! Well...it feels like it.
I'm sitting here right now "avoiding" some basic housework tasks I would like done before I crash into bed for the night. It's only 8pm'ish here and already I could easily just fall into my bed and stay there until morning!
My main objective in the immediate time I have is to organise some income support for my family while we are closed at the shop. God willing and where possible I will make every effort to access the government resources available for situations like ours. I have about 14 days to get this done.
I also need a good full day of going through all our accounts and getting them paid and squared off for the year. Cash flow will be an "issue" what with our holiday in Darwin over the christmas/new year period. Hubby has been looking forward to that holiday so much and so has my sister who lives up there. I intend to get us all there and just BE a family for 10 days without all these responsibilities and expectations looming over our heads.
The art of being in constant readiness for anything right now is highly stressful. I'm usually a very organised person but this past two weeks of massive shift and change has thrown lots of spanners into my usually organised plans. I need TIME and energy without interruption to get a lot of detail stuff sorted out here. I think I will have to literally turn the phones off and put a Do Not Disturb sign on the door sometime Wednesday to deal with the paperwork.
Friends are rallying around us. Family are supporting us where and when they can. Professionals in all varieties are offering their assistance in legal and financial, health and welfare. We are being held up by the Everlasting Arms!
I am a bit worried about my own self "crashing". My diet has hit a bit of a nosedive of late and I will need to be conscientious of that if I want to maintain my vitality and energy. No more chocolate! Not right now! The unbelievable fatigue today when I got back from buzzing around various appointments totally hit me as I came home to find some lunch. I would have laid down for a nap except the phone wouldn't stop ringing and the knocks at the door wouldn't stop as well.
Friends have dropped in to visit my husband in hospital and have phoned in progress reports. Some have been astounded to hear he's actually "much better" than he was this past couple of weeks! To them he is CRAZY happy!
And now my son is sick too. I'm suspecting it is the Glandular Fever the doctor warned us was possible when JD was sick a few weeks back. Oh dear!
Life is moving at an impossible pace. I need to breathe, to centre, slow down, re-orientate and find whats important and what's not in amongst all these demands.
So okay. I'm whinging now. Time to refocus and just "be". One cannot waste time moaning when there's dishes to wash instead. :)
Tomorrow is another day.
he's phoned me a couple of times already from his hospital bed. He's lucid, much calmer than he has been but there is still a long way to go.
I can hear the slurring of his words and he is still flighty and jumpy about things. He demonstrates his anxiety in the details. Today he was anxious about some taxation stuff from 2004! :) It's sort of cute at the moment because he's not here pestering me about it but still, these little concerns that loom so large in his mind will perhaps wear me down over time. Learning what to take on board and what to let go will be my biggest challenge in his recovery.
I'm exhausted! And it's only the beginning of the week.
Today I had more phone-calls, visitors, and appointments than I think I've had all year combined! Well...it feels like it.
I'm sitting here right now "avoiding" some basic housework tasks I would like done before I crash into bed for the night. It's only 8pm'ish here and already I could easily just fall into my bed and stay there until morning!
My main objective in the immediate time I have is to organise some income support for my family while we are closed at the shop. God willing and where possible I will make every effort to access the government resources available for situations like ours. I have about 14 days to get this done.
I also need a good full day of going through all our accounts and getting them paid and squared off for the year. Cash flow will be an "issue" what with our holiday in Darwin over the christmas/new year period. Hubby has been looking forward to that holiday so much and so has my sister who lives up there. I intend to get us all there and just BE a family for 10 days without all these responsibilities and expectations looming over our heads.
The art of being in constant readiness for anything right now is highly stressful. I'm usually a very organised person but this past two weeks of massive shift and change has thrown lots of spanners into my usually organised plans. I need TIME and energy without interruption to get a lot of detail stuff sorted out here. I think I will have to literally turn the phones off and put a Do Not Disturb sign on the door sometime Wednesday to deal with the paperwork.
Friends are rallying around us. Family are supporting us where and when they can. Professionals in all varieties are offering their assistance in legal and financial, health and welfare. We are being held up by the Everlasting Arms!
I am a bit worried about my own self "crashing". My diet has hit a bit of a nosedive of late and I will need to be conscientious of that if I want to maintain my vitality and energy. No more chocolate! Not right now! The unbelievable fatigue today when I got back from buzzing around various appointments totally hit me as I came home to find some lunch. I would have laid down for a nap except the phone wouldn't stop ringing and the knocks at the door wouldn't stop as well.
Friends have dropped in to visit my husband in hospital and have phoned in progress reports. Some have been astounded to hear he's actually "much better" than he was this past couple of weeks! To them he is CRAZY happy!
And now my son is sick too. I'm suspecting it is the Glandular Fever the doctor warned us was possible when JD was sick a few weeks back. Oh dear!
Life is moving at an impossible pace. I need to breathe, to centre, slow down, re-orientate and find whats important and what's not in amongst all these demands.
So okay. I'm whinging now. Time to refocus and just "be". One cannot waste time moaning when there's dishes to wash instead. :)
Tomorrow is another day.
Saturday, December 08, 2007
admission
my husband has been admitted to an acute psychiatric care unit about 2 hours drive away from where we live.
He came home from work this morning and seemed almost lucid if a little irritable. He took the medication the doctor had prescribed him last Tuesday and went off to bed. He slept for no more than about 3 hours.
In that time I was in hourly contact with Psychiatric Emergency Support Services about getting up to the hospital to be assessed for mental illness. He had been very aggressive and irritable this past few days so I was very worried he'd not go quietly.
Praise God, when he got up from his nap he was as compliant as a lamb and came willingly to the hospital.
We sat in a room by ourselves for about 90+ minutes before seeing anyone. In that time my husband chatted to me.
I hardly said a word.
Everything that came out of his mouth was disjointed, incoherent and unsettled. His thinking processes were not rational and yet he seemed so happy and content sitting there with me. He just babbled like a tiny child about as many topics as entered his manic mind in the moment.
I am relieved that I do not have to "manage" him for now. At the same time I am under immense pressure to get a lot ....a LOT... of things organised over the course of the next week or two. The shop has been shut until further notice which means we don't have an income for awhile.
We aim to get my husband on the road to recovery in time for our holiday to Darwin over the Christmas break. We shall see.
I will possibly find out on Tuesday what the situation is with him.
Friends and family have been supportive and responsive in our time of need. We are being loved and I am grateful. Nothing in all the world prepares anyone to go through what I have gone through this past few weeks. All the organisation, the knowledge, the sheer capacity to get out of bed and face each day has been and is sometimes overwhelming.
I am not invinceable but at the same time I am also resilient and pragmatic. We'll live.
Never let yourself feel so alone in the world that you lose focus. Work is not your life. Learn to let go of stuff that hurts you in whatever healthy and appropriate way you can.
Learning to deal with his stress triggers is my husbands biggest challenge this coming year. My challenge is to find joy and hope even when my life is changing on a daily basis.
No guilt, no blame, no having to justify anything. Mental illness is another life cloud that some people are given, just as some are given heart disease, high blood pressure, diabetes, or cancer. You treat it, you deal with it, and you survive. Nothing else matters but love and good humour. Live with this thing and do what you can and never assume you are the only one.
You know... people tend to think that life must be happy and easy in order for it to be considered successful? I'm not so sure. Success isn't measured by how easy you make your life. The people who are successful are those who can balance the good times with the bad and see the positive outcomes in both.
Even if our lives turn to complete shit in the next week or two (I doubt it will)... we will be okay in the long run. It isn't about being completely in control, or doing things in a certain way, or having the right amount of money/time/energy/health, it's about the way we think about stuff, and the way we notice when it all gets too much and can adjust our course to take off the pressure.
There is a lot to do this next few days. I'm praying for clarity and wisdom to manage the details. God willing, whatever I "miss" will sort itself out.
My husband will get well, and he'll be stronger for this experience.
He came home from work this morning and seemed almost lucid if a little irritable. He took the medication the doctor had prescribed him last Tuesday and went off to bed. He slept for no more than about 3 hours.
In that time I was in hourly contact with Psychiatric Emergency Support Services about getting up to the hospital to be assessed for mental illness. He had been very aggressive and irritable this past few days so I was very worried he'd not go quietly.
Praise God, when he got up from his nap he was as compliant as a lamb and came willingly to the hospital.
We sat in a room by ourselves for about 90+ minutes before seeing anyone. In that time my husband chatted to me.
I hardly said a word.
Everything that came out of his mouth was disjointed, incoherent and unsettled. His thinking processes were not rational and yet he seemed so happy and content sitting there with me. He just babbled like a tiny child about as many topics as entered his manic mind in the moment.
I am relieved that I do not have to "manage" him for now. At the same time I am under immense pressure to get a lot ....a LOT... of things organised over the course of the next week or two. The shop has been shut until further notice which means we don't have an income for awhile.
We aim to get my husband on the road to recovery in time for our holiday to Darwin over the Christmas break. We shall see.
I will possibly find out on Tuesday what the situation is with him.
Friends and family have been supportive and responsive in our time of need. We are being loved and I am grateful. Nothing in all the world prepares anyone to go through what I have gone through this past few weeks. All the organisation, the knowledge, the sheer capacity to get out of bed and face each day has been and is sometimes overwhelming.
I am not invinceable but at the same time I am also resilient and pragmatic. We'll live.
Never let yourself feel so alone in the world that you lose focus. Work is not your life. Learn to let go of stuff that hurts you in whatever healthy and appropriate way you can.
Learning to deal with his stress triggers is my husbands biggest challenge this coming year. My challenge is to find joy and hope even when my life is changing on a daily basis.
No guilt, no blame, no having to justify anything. Mental illness is another life cloud that some people are given, just as some are given heart disease, high blood pressure, diabetes, or cancer. You treat it, you deal with it, and you survive. Nothing else matters but love and good humour. Live with this thing and do what you can and never assume you are the only one.
You know... people tend to think that life must be happy and easy in order for it to be considered successful? I'm not so sure. Success isn't measured by how easy you make your life. The people who are successful are those who can balance the good times with the bad and see the positive outcomes in both.
Even if our lives turn to complete shit in the next week or two (I doubt it will)... we will be okay in the long run. It isn't about being completely in control, or doing things in a certain way, or having the right amount of money/time/energy/health, it's about the way we think about stuff, and the way we notice when it all gets too much and can adjust our course to take off the pressure.
There is a lot to do this next few days. I'm praying for clarity and wisdom to manage the details. God willing, whatever I "miss" will sort itself out.
My husband will get well, and he'll be stronger for this experience.
Friday, December 07, 2007
the slow descent into madness
my husband isn't improving.
He is not hyper euphoric anymore though. Now he is garbled, confused and my father and brother have become "The Enemy".
At every opportunity, some diatribe escapes my husbands lips inferring or directly referring to my immediate family members.
Today I was accused of having "Jewish Heritage" because "The Jews..." according to my husbands deranged thinking... "control the safes". But he then follows this with "But, I'm not racist!" and wants to give me a hug or a kiss.
I'm finding it very hard to love him right now.
I know that it is the illness that is creating this rage but it still isn't appropriate or excusable for him to be so horrible towards the people I love. I cannot give him the affection he craves because the viciousness that lies inside of him repels me.
I feel very caught between a rock and a hard place. He is sort of capable of working but at the same time I think the pressure on him at present is too great. He needs to stop and unwind.
The kids seem okay. They are rolling with the flow as kids tend to do. They know their dad is not himself right now. I shall try and instill in them that none of this is in anyway anyones fault. It's an illness, a chemical brain dysfunction; not their dad's, or mine, or especially their fault.
Oh but how hard this is. I seek deliberately every available opportunity to send him away out of the house. The likelihood of him being "weird" or doing something idiotic in public is very high right now, but still...if he's away from me I can stop shaking and relax. I don't have to be strong when he's not here.
I am so frightened of having to sleep next to him tonight. Weekends have been when we are more or less in bed at the same time for most of our married life. During the week I have usually slept alone while he is at work. This past two weeks has seen me crave the working week so that I don't have to be next to my man. How awful!
It's the rage in him I find hardest to bear. The pent up spew of hatred and paranoia that erupts from his mouth. He always was cruel and hard with words when he was/is angry! I have just shut up and said nothing when my husband was/is in full flight, dredging up past wrongs along with current ones with calculating and vicious ardour. It's best to be very quiet when he is angry and say nothing because you are NEVER allowed to win with him! I had my own tactics for quietly putting forward my point of view. Now even these are null and void as he can barely remember what he has said from one moment to the next.
He cannot differentiate between what are essential things to know and inconsequential details that mean nothing. Today he was convinced we needed a particular brand of leather conditioner to "treat" the vinyl footstool before it got "ruined". He was adamant I was wrong when I tried to explain that the stuff was for leather, not for vinyl. He's obsessed with heritage and family, money and permissions right now. These things are concurrent themes through all his manic words. My father and my brother are bearing the brunt of his anger and rage.... thank God from afar! Thus far!
Moment by moment I must just simply be. Flexible and ready for any action that might be required. I have no idea which is the best action for all. I can only hedge my bets and breathe a prayer in faith that I'm leading the best way I can.
Any positive vibes or prayers will be gratefully appreciated.
What to do? What to do? I so hate this having to make these choices! I feel like I'm alone at sea trying to strategically avoid an overly affectionate but unpredictable shark.
He is not hyper euphoric anymore though. Now he is garbled, confused and my father and brother have become "The Enemy".
At every opportunity, some diatribe escapes my husbands lips inferring or directly referring to my immediate family members.
Today I was accused of having "Jewish Heritage" because "The Jews..." according to my husbands deranged thinking... "control the safes". But he then follows this with "But, I'm not racist!" and wants to give me a hug or a kiss.
I'm finding it very hard to love him right now.
I know that it is the illness that is creating this rage but it still isn't appropriate or excusable for him to be so horrible towards the people I love. I cannot give him the affection he craves because the viciousness that lies inside of him repels me.
I feel very caught between a rock and a hard place. He is sort of capable of working but at the same time I think the pressure on him at present is too great. He needs to stop and unwind.
The kids seem okay. They are rolling with the flow as kids tend to do. They know their dad is not himself right now. I shall try and instill in them that none of this is in anyway anyones fault. It's an illness, a chemical brain dysfunction; not their dad's, or mine, or especially their fault.
Oh but how hard this is. I seek deliberately every available opportunity to send him away out of the house. The likelihood of him being "weird" or doing something idiotic in public is very high right now, but still...if he's away from me I can stop shaking and relax. I don't have to be strong when he's not here.
I am so frightened of having to sleep next to him tonight. Weekends have been when we are more or less in bed at the same time for most of our married life. During the week I have usually slept alone while he is at work. This past two weeks has seen me crave the working week so that I don't have to be next to my man. How awful!
It's the rage in him I find hardest to bear. The pent up spew of hatred and paranoia that erupts from his mouth. He always was cruel and hard with words when he was/is angry! I have just shut up and said nothing when my husband was/is in full flight, dredging up past wrongs along with current ones with calculating and vicious ardour. It's best to be very quiet when he is angry and say nothing because you are NEVER allowed to win with him! I had my own tactics for quietly putting forward my point of view. Now even these are null and void as he can barely remember what he has said from one moment to the next.
He cannot differentiate between what are essential things to know and inconsequential details that mean nothing. Today he was convinced we needed a particular brand of leather conditioner to "treat" the vinyl footstool before it got "ruined". He was adamant I was wrong when I tried to explain that the stuff was for leather, not for vinyl. He's obsessed with heritage and family, money and permissions right now. These things are concurrent themes through all his manic words. My father and my brother are bearing the brunt of his anger and rage.... thank God from afar! Thus far!
Moment by moment I must just simply be. Flexible and ready for any action that might be required. I have no idea which is the best action for all. I can only hedge my bets and breathe a prayer in faith that I'm leading the best way I can.
Any positive vibes or prayers will be gratefully appreciated.
What to do? What to do? I so hate this having to make these choices! I feel like I'm alone at sea trying to strategically avoid an overly affectionate but unpredictable shark.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
detached one day.... heartbroken the next
yesterday I wrote a lovely emotionally detached discourse on my husbands current state of mind.
today I am no so detached.
I HURT.
This fucking demon in our midst... his inability to be sane and rational... is breaking me in two.
this man I married, whom I love and with whom I built a family and a life is so not WITH me right now!
Sure he's ever so loving...sending me..anonymously... a bunch of 7 blood red roses in a bouquet almost identical to my wedding bouquet... but still I don't want his flowers not now.
I had to drug him with the heavy duty medication this morning and was absolutely adamant that he go back to bed.
In the past 14 days or so he's probably had no more than about 40 hours of solid sleep! He's hyperactive beyond belief.
I'm following behind putting out the spot fires before he sends us broke or friend and family'less.
I glimpsed his caged rage earlier today... vitriol spewed forth with carefully enunciated venom filled words...aimed squarely at my father and my brother! Why? Who knows? But right now they are the "enemy"! I had to shout "ENOUGH" at him to get him to stop!
One minute he is like a lamb but then when he thinks I'm not looking, he is up and about phoning people about odd things. Thankfully my very wise, loving family and friends have twigged almost immediately that all is not well in our home at the moment. The next minute he is the invincible and the hardly-done-by innocent at war with The System..who are apparently out to defraud us of everything!
he is mucking about with cash from our business to the point where he cannot even find the change bag for our daily use at the shop. He is phoning estate agents for who knows what!
This sort of Life can suck...big time! When the wheel turns so fast you are dizzy and made sick from the unexpected jolts as the brakes are applied and then released without warning.
Somewhere inside my husband lies a deeply disturbed and angry man who wants to be a hero but feels powerless to be so.
Inside me right now is a deeply hurt and frightened wife who is being forced to lead where she's never had to lead her family before.
There but for the Grace of God go I.
today I am no so detached.
I HURT.
This fucking demon in our midst... his inability to be sane and rational... is breaking me in two.
this man I married, whom I love and with whom I built a family and a life is so not WITH me right now!
Sure he's ever so loving...sending me..anonymously... a bunch of 7 blood red roses in a bouquet almost identical to my wedding bouquet... but still I don't want his flowers not now.
I had to drug him with the heavy duty medication this morning and was absolutely adamant that he go back to bed.
In the past 14 days or so he's probably had no more than about 40 hours of solid sleep! He's hyperactive beyond belief.
I'm following behind putting out the spot fires before he sends us broke or friend and family'less.
I glimpsed his caged rage earlier today... vitriol spewed forth with carefully enunciated venom filled words...aimed squarely at my father and my brother! Why? Who knows? But right now they are the "enemy"! I had to shout "ENOUGH" at him to get him to stop!
One minute he is like a lamb but then when he thinks I'm not looking, he is up and about phoning people about odd things. Thankfully my very wise, loving family and friends have twigged almost immediately that all is not well in our home at the moment. The next minute he is the invincible and the hardly-done-by innocent at war with The System..who are apparently out to defraud us of everything!
he is mucking about with cash from our business to the point where he cannot even find the change bag for our daily use at the shop. He is phoning estate agents for who knows what!
This sort of Life can suck...big time! When the wheel turns so fast you are dizzy and made sick from the unexpected jolts as the brakes are applied and then released without warning.
Somewhere inside my husband lies a deeply disturbed and angry man who wants to be a hero but feels powerless to be so.
Inside me right now is a deeply hurt and frightened wife who is being forced to lead where she's never had to lead her family before.
There but for the Grace of God go I.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
my husband is not well...
There's a very fine line between blogging ones thoughts and ideas and just airing ones "dirty laundry" for the masses.
This might be construed as one of the latter perhaps.
Thing is, if my husband had broken his leg or arm, I'd be most definitely blogging about it to 1) Have a whinge 2) Debrief my concerns 3) Tell the world of my husband's incapacity to do "much".
My husband hasn't really broken anything anyone can actually see.
He is suffering from rather severe stress-induced anxiety instead. He is manic, unpredictable, euphoric one minute - a veritable "basket-case" the next. He has a lot of suppressed rage, deep depression, is slightly "mad" and has a nasty... NASTY... case of
Foot-in-mouth disease (an Aussie expression for saying the wrong thing at the wrong times) He doesn't sleep much and has had his phone taken away for calling friends and relatives at odd hours of the day or night.
We haven't shut the shop...yet...but it's my call to make if he doesn't stabilize over the next few days on his new medication. We shall see.
Now many people would cringe at me telling the "world" this information. Mental illness and even depression have more or less been a stigma of terrible secrecy. Madness is considered the sufferer's "fault". "They'd be FINE if they'd just pull their socks up, got a grip and got on with things!" et al. And I do think many people - even in this enlightened age - are of the secret opinion that madness is catching! *wry smile*
Patience and temperance on the part of the supporting family members is expected and quietly empathized with but many people are at a complete loss as to how to provide practical support even so.
It's bloody hard work!
The level of personal "control" over ones own emotions and feelings is immense and dangerous. I'm not quite that stalwart. I cry when I need to and if I choose to tell the world that my husband is sick and *I* need support in dealing with it, then so be it. It is my way of coping with it. Go suck lemons if you think this is the wrong approach.
As I mentioned earlier, if he'd 'just' broken his leg, no one would bat an eyelid if I wrote about it here. That he has broken his mind temporarily is no different only that the ignorant and stupid make it so.
Our close friends HAVE been amazing and helpful this past 14 days. They have travelled this road watching their dear friend - my husband - go through an incredible range of emotional turmoil, many heart-wrenching breakdowns to euphoric manic highs with its associated gobbledy-gook way of speaking and relating.
It's a lot of things that has done this to my husband. Yes! He does need to deal with it and get a grip on his life but first he needs to understand his emotional turmoil, dig his way through its mire, discover its roots and exorcise them so he can heal over the old wounds. There is stress, grief, loss, the burden of just too much responsibility and work. He doesn't cope with success well and nor does he cope with anger well. There is a lot of suppressed rage that needs to be allowed to be said safely and released without repercussion.
Currently, we are in intervention mode, with the hopefully short journey through the mine-field of anti-depressants and regular visits to various health professionals. We will get my husband well again.
For now, we will just try to ride this new barrel wave on the sea of life with Grace, Dignity and Good Humour!
This might be construed as one of the latter perhaps.
Thing is, if my husband had broken his leg or arm, I'd be most definitely blogging about it to 1) Have a whinge 2) Debrief my concerns 3) Tell the world of my husband's incapacity to do "much".
My husband hasn't really broken anything anyone can actually see.
He is suffering from rather severe stress-induced anxiety instead. He is manic, unpredictable, euphoric one minute - a veritable "basket-case" the next. He has a lot of suppressed rage, deep depression, is slightly "mad" and has a nasty... NASTY... case of
Foot-in-mouth disease (an Aussie expression for saying the wrong thing at the wrong times) He doesn't sleep much and has had his phone taken away for calling friends and relatives at odd hours of the day or night.
We haven't shut the shop...yet...but it's my call to make if he doesn't stabilize over the next few days on his new medication. We shall see.
Now many people would cringe at me telling the "world" this information. Mental illness and even depression have more or less been a stigma of terrible secrecy. Madness is considered the sufferer's "fault". "They'd be FINE if they'd just pull their socks up, got a grip and got on with things!" et al. And I do think many people - even in this enlightened age - are of the secret opinion that madness is catching! *wry smile*
Patience and temperance on the part of the supporting family members is expected and quietly empathized with but many people are at a complete loss as to how to provide practical support even so.
It's bloody hard work!
The level of personal "control" over ones own emotions and feelings is immense and dangerous. I'm not quite that stalwart. I cry when I need to and if I choose to tell the world that my husband is sick and *I* need support in dealing with it, then so be it. It is my way of coping with it. Go suck lemons if you think this is the wrong approach.
As I mentioned earlier, if he'd 'just' broken his leg, no one would bat an eyelid if I wrote about it here. That he has broken his mind temporarily is no different only that the ignorant and stupid make it so.
Our close friends HAVE been amazing and helpful this past 14 days. They have travelled this road watching their dear friend - my husband - go through an incredible range of emotional turmoil, many heart-wrenching breakdowns to euphoric manic highs with its associated gobbledy-gook way of speaking and relating.
It's a lot of things that has done this to my husband. Yes! He does need to deal with it and get a grip on his life but first he needs to understand his emotional turmoil, dig his way through its mire, discover its roots and exorcise them so he can heal over the old wounds. There is stress, grief, loss, the burden of just too much responsibility and work. He doesn't cope with success well and nor does he cope with anger well. There is a lot of suppressed rage that needs to be allowed to be said safely and released without repercussion.
Currently, we are in intervention mode, with the hopefully short journey through the mine-field of anti-depressants and regular visits to various health professionals. We will get my husband well again.
For now, we will just try to ride this new barrel wave on the sea of life with Grace, Dignity and Good Humour!
Monday, November 26, 2007
Questions about Genius and Life Purpose.
Those of us who have gone through the process of finding the name of our "Genius" as described by Dick Richards, will testify to the agonizing and confusing, often protracted, job it is.
Finding ones Genius is like panning for gold. It's a long and drawn out process of sifting through a multiplicity of stuff within us.
When we do find a name that perfectly describes the natural and innate gift we bring to the world, we then find ourselves compelled to channel that new found discovery and insight into the search for our personal true purpose and reason for being here.
Genius and Life Purpose are linked for sure.
There is a possibility here though that I want to explore.
What if our Life Purpose isn't so much an extension of our Genius, but is in fact, something very uncomfortable for which we must take a leap of faith in order to grasp?
For instance, I know my genius is Constructing Coherence. I am all about logically and systematically making things make sense, establishing order and making connections between words, patterns, ideas and people. I do this instinctively without really having to "think" too hard about them.
But now I wonder if my Life Purpose is something that perhaps stretches me beyond this instinctive pattern of being.
Maybe my purpose here is to be engaged in something that takes me outside of having to use the same old, same old, devices I've always used? A Leap of Faith into uncharted territory that engages me and enthralls me and fulfills me like no other thing? Something that would normally terrify me! Something that doesn't make a lot of sense at all...not logically anyway.
What if...instead of my Genius, my modus operandi, creating the impetus for me to fulfill my Life Purpose, I instead have to use other emotional and intellectual tools that feel alien to me, that challenge me, but by the same token, fulfill me enormously and thereby create something wonderful for the Greater Good?
What if... my Life Purpose isn't achieved via the business of Constructing Coherence, which I do every day as a matter of course, but is something illogical, challenging, strange, uncommon and decidedly "Huh?".
Perhaps its in the opposite of my usual daily self where I might find the direction for my soul to travel.
The opposite of Constructing Coherence for me would be to rely not on logic but on intuition. I would need to do things according to what brings joy and fun for ME without always carefully thinking through the future consequences of my actions for everyone else. The opposite of my Genius would be for me to find strength within myself and not rely on finding it within the collective. The opposite for me would be to accept my own uniqueness and embrace my differences and not try to blend in with the crowd so much. I would have to accept being in the moment more, not plan so much and just be playful and joyful in the expression of my dreams. I would have to step onto the stage of Life and engage fully in it as a lead player, not as mere spectator or support crew.
That is scary stuff for me.
I am not very courageous and nor do I feel comfortable being in the spotlight. I love the stage but I have always stayed in the background or behind the scenes, preferring to work hard for the team doing my "bit".
It sounds so arrogant. I feel very small when faced with the enormous potential present in this. I have always WANTED the spotlight, craved it, yearned for it. I love being the centre of attention! I learned though, to sublimate this inside of me as a child. Being the "Lead" was only ever given to those who were more beautiful, more clever, more talented, more creative than me. Or so I believed. Then there was the notion of being "Humble", a big thing in my family background. Humility meant never trying to be "better" than anyone else so I did most of my "performing" in private on my own private stage inside my very private thoughts.
Thus, I learned to blend in with the group, to construct coherence as a support act. I became "invisible" and just cruised on the side-lines. My Genius didn't wither doing this, it became powerful. I am a team player! I am consistently and thoroughly engaged in the collective focus of the group mind. I can support others easily! It's just what I "do"!
But taking the Lead is not something I do comfortably. I like the sense of power and the accolades it brings, but it worries me because I fear being "by myself" out there under the spotlight. The responsibilities inherent in being the Lead seem challenging even if inspiring. I worry about becoming too "full of myself" receiving the applause and am über careful to ensure that its never me who gets the praise but the group or those behind the scenes. Being in the lead is fraught with so much conflicting energy for me; on the one hand I adore being at the centre and in control, but on the other hand I fret about taking the accolades too seriously. I might need to TRUST that I am worthy of the applause sometimes! eek!
But what IF this is my Life Purpose? To be channeled toward the thing I have always craved but never felt entirely comfortable in grasping? What if I am being asked to fulfill my Life's Purpose by being very much what I am not every day of my life?
What if all of us who have found their Genius are in fact being asked not to seek their purpose from the starting point of their Genius, but beyond it where their Genius rarely dares to venture? What if we are in fact to reach beyond that which we do so naturally? What if we are being asked to engage in that which stretches us outside of our comfort zone?
This confounds and inspires me, this idea. I wonder what Dick would say? :)
Finding ones Genius is like panning for gold. It's a long and drawn out process of sifting through a multiplicity of stuff within us.
When we do find a name that perfectly describes the natural and innate gift we bring to the world, we then find ourselves compelled to channel that new found discovery and insight into the search for our personal true purpose and reason for being here.
Genius and Life Purpose are linked for sure.
There is a possibility here though that I want to explore.
What if our Life Purpose isn't so much an extension of our Genius, but is in fact, something very uncomfortable for which we must take a leap of faith in order to grasp?
For instance, I know my genius is Constructing Coherence. I am all about logically and systematically making things make sense, establishing order and making connections between words, patterns, ideas and people. I do this instinctively without really having to "think" too hard about them.
But now I wonder if my Life Purpose is something that perhaps stretches me beyond this instinctive pattern of being.
Maybe my purpose here is to be engaged in something that takes me outside of having to use the same old, same old, devices I've always used? A Leap of Faith into uncharted territory that engages me and enthralls me and fulfills me like no other thing? Something that would normally terrify me! Something that doesn't make a lot of sense at all...not logically anyway.
What if...instead of my Genius, my modus operandi, creating the impetus for me to fulfill my Life Purpose, I instead have to use other emotional and intellectual tools that feel alien to me, that challenge me, but by the same token, fulfill me enormously and thereby create something wonderful for the Greater Good?
What if... my Life Purpose isn't achieved via the business of Constructing Coherence, which I do every day as a matter of course, but is something illogical, challenging, strange, uncommon and decidedly "Huh?".
Perhaps its in the opposite of my usual daily self where I might find the direction for my soul to travel.
The opposite of Constructing Coherence for me would be to rely not on logic but on intuition. I would need to do things according to what brings joy and fun for ME without always carefully thinking through the future consequences of my actions for everyone else. The opposite of my Genius would be for me to find strength within myself and not rely on finding it within the collective. The opposite for me would be to accept my own uniqueness and embrace my differences and not try to blend in with the crowd so much. I would have to accept being in the moment more, not plan so much and just be playful and joyful in the expression of my dreams. I would have to step onto the stage of Life and engage fully in it as a lead player, not as mere spectator or support crew.
That is scary stuff for me.
I am not very courageous and nor do I feel comfortable being in the spotlight. I love the stage but I have always stayed in the background or behind the scenes, preferring to work hard for the team doing my "bit".
It sounds so arrogant. I feel very small when faced with the enormous potential present in this. I have always WANTED the spotlight, craved it, yearned for it. I love being the centre of attention! I learned though, to sublimate this inside of me as a child. Being the "Lead" was only ever given to those who were more beautiful, more clever, more talented, more creative than me. Or so I believed. Then there was the notion of being "Humble", a big thing in my family background. Humility meant never trying to be "better" than anyone else so I did most of my "performing" in private on my own private stage inside my very private thoughts.
Thus, I learned to blend in with the group, to construct coherence as a support act. I became "invisible" and just cruised on the side-lines. My Genius didn't wither doing this, it became powerful. I am a team player! I am consistently and thoroughly engaged in the collective focus of the group mind. I can support others easily! It's just what I "do"!
But taking the Lead is not something I do comfortably. I like the sense of power and the accolades it brings, but it worries me because I fear being "by myself" out there under the spotlight. The responsibilities inherent in being the Lead seem challenging even if inspiring. I worry about becoming too "full of myself" receiving the applause and am über careful to ensure that its never me who gets the praise but the group or those behind the scenes. Being in the lead is fraught with so much conflicting energy for me; on the one hand I adore being at the centre and in control, but on the other hand I fret about taking the accolades too seriously. I might need to TRUST that I am worthy of the applause sometimes! eek!
But what IF this is my Life Purpose? To be channeled toward the thing I have always craved but never felt entirely comfortable in grasping? What if I am being asked to fulfill my Life's Purpose by being very much what I am not every day of my life?
What if all of us who have found their Genius are in fact being asked not to seek their purpose from the starting point of their Genius, but beyond it where their Genius rarely dares to venture? What if we are in fact to reach beyond that which we do so naturally? What if we are being asked to engage in that which stretches us outside of our comfort zone?
This confounds and inspires me, this idea. I wonder what Dick would say? :)
Saturday, November 24, 2007
I, Hope so...
One of those mini insights into the self today.
I think...and its not really clear yet...but I think and feel that my whole being is driven by one ultimate passion.
Hope.
I live my moments, my nows much of the time with the future in mind. I'm constantly scanning the horizon of my forthcoming moments in order to establish grounds for the Hope I have that things will come to pass as I wish them to.
weird?
sure!
Thing is...these little weird revelations about my own inner bean seem to settle and calm me so I figure if that's the case, then they may well be very close to being the "truth", at least for me anyway.
selfish?
you betcha!
I hope for a lot of stuff.
I hope for passion, romance, energy, faithfulness. I hope for prosperity, wealth, honour, esteem and yes... I admit ...even a little bit of fame sometimes (until I get real again anyway).
I hope for Heaven and the resurrection at the end of time.
I hope for my friends, my loved ones, the earth, 3rd world peoples and for the displaced and disparaged. I hope for my co-workers, my children and my parents and siblings.
I hope.
I hope I live to 95 with all my mental faculties intact.
I hope I can lose this last 10 to 12 kg I am still carrying.
I hope I see rainbows until the end of my life.
I hope to travel to germany a thousand and one times in my life to come.
I hope to write...ahhhh yes! I have always harboured ambitions to write that "great" screenplay but have always been far too overwhelmed by the task.. but I still hope to one day even so.
I hope to still be able to see and not lose the sight in my one good eye.
I hope we have a good time in Darwin over Christmas with my sis and family.
I hope.
I live in hope.
Constantly, eternally, every single day, almost every single breath I take is a pointer towards my hopes.
Being the dreamer and idealist that I am, I am never content with the status quo. I yearn for my tomorrows and I HOPE for them like no other person I know!
Perhaps I should change my name to "Hope", but I hope not! I quite like my names thanks.
Hope is so powerful, so intense, so charged with possibilities, it engulfs the soul and makes it yearn. The danger is that I can sometimes yearn for the things that in my imagination seem so "perfect" but are in fact not quite what they seemed once I get there and experience them in the present moment.
A lot of stuff surrounding Hope, is decision making. Making choices at bends and forks on ones path. You kinda guess what lays ahead without really knowing the forthcoming landscape but you still hope that your decisions will get you where you want to be eventually.
Hope is a dangerous thing too. It can easily lead to all sorts of silly addictions. I've talked HEAPS in this blog about living in the moment and while logically, I know that to be the best thing to do... I rarely do it because I'm so naturally wired to live in the future. It's a good thing I'm not into gambling "that" much...or I would be addicted for sure. Gambling relies on hope!
Hope can bog you down too. Around my neck is my chain with the Faith, Hope and Love symbols. Hope is represented by an anchor. It's a grounding thing. It provides a surety of potential. A kind of blank cheque for future success and happiness. Thing is, when you rely so much on Hope to fulfil your inner bean with happiness, you are often left disappointed and dismayed that your Hope never lived up to its potential when you dreamed it in the first place. This can make one rather cynical and a little bitter about life. I hope that never happens to me!
so anyway, I hope I haven't bored you! I hope your day has gone well. I hope you are fit and healthy. I hope you've chosen your friends wisely and that your enemies are very few. I hope you live life to the fullest. I hope you find your soulmate. I hope you are given access to every opportunity for success. I hope you climb mountains, swim rivers, and sail oceans of love and joy. I hope the world finds Peace and the absence of cruelty. I hope there is joy in being unique for every individual. I hope the collective consciousness of mankind is aroused by the Joy of knowing God. I hope for dolphins, bears, dogs and cats. I hope for children in Uganda, India, China and Romania. I hope for the doggies at the local pound. I hope for the indigenous cultures of the world. I hope for the Aussie Federal Election to be OVER A.S.A.P.!
Hope isn't about love so much as its about Faith. Hope and Faith are inextricably linked. But Hope can live quite happily without Love. So if one is to Hope, then one needs to also cultivate Love. Something I need a whole lot more practise in.
Love is the supreme expression of Faith and Hope. Without Love encompassing these two foci on the evidence of unseen things promised in the future... then Faith and Hope are merely selfish aspirations of nothing much.
May Faith Hope and Love reign.
I so hope so.
I think...and its not really clear yet...but I think and feel that my whole being is driven by one ultimate passion.
Hope.
I live my moments, my nows much of the time with the future in mind. I'm constantly scanning the horizon of my forthcoming moments in order to establish grounds for the Hope I have that things will come to pass as I wish them to.
weird?
sure!
Thing is...these little weird revelations about my own inner bean seem to settle and calm me so I figure if that's the case, then they may well be very close to being the "truth", at least for me anyway.
selfish?
you betcha!
I hope for a lot of stuff.
I hope for passion, romance, energy, faithfulness. I hope for prosperity, wealth, honour, esteem and yes... I admit ...even a little bit of fame sometimes (until I get real again anyway).
I hope for Heaven and the resurrection at the end of time.
I hope for my friends, my loved ones, the earth, 3rd world peoples and for the displaced and disparaged. I hope for my co-workers, my children and my parents and siblings.
I hope.
I hope I live to 95 with all my mental faculties intact.
I hope I can lose this last 10 to 12 kg I am still carrying.
I hope I see rainbows until the end of my life.
I hope to travel to germany a thousand and one times in my life to come.
I hope to write...ahhhh yes! I have always harboured ambitions to write that "great" screenplay but have always been far too overwhelmed by the task.. but I still hope to one day even so.
I hope to still be able to see and not lose the sight in my one good eye.
I hope we have a good time in Darwin over Christmas with my sis and family.
I hope.
I live in hope.
Constantly, eternally, every single day, almost every single breath I take is a pointer towards my hopes.
Being the dreamer and idealist that I am, I am never content with the status quo. I yearn for my tomorrows and I HOPE for them like no other person I know!
Perhaps I should change my name to "Hope", but I hope not! I quite like my names thanks.
Hope is so powerful, so intense, so charged with possibilities, it engulfs the soul and makes it yearn. The danger is that I can sometimes yearn for the things that in my imagination seem so "perfect" but are in fact not quite what they seemed once I get there and experience them in the present moment.
A lot of stuff surrounding Hope, is decision making. Making choices at bends and forks on ones path. You kinda guess what lays ahead without really knowing the forthcoming landscape but you still hope that your decisions will get you where you want to be eventually.
Hope is a dangerous thing too. It can easily lead to all sorts of silly addictions. I've talked HEAPS in this blog about living in the moment and while logically, I know that to be the best thing to do... I rarely do it because I'm so naturally wired to live in the future. It's a good thing I'm not into gambling "that" much...or I would be addicted for sure. Gambling relies on hope!
Hope can bog you down too. Around my neck is my chain with the Faith, Hope and Love symbols. Hope is represented by an anchor. It's a grounding thing. It provides a surety of potential. A kind of blank cheque for future success and happiness. Thing is, when you rely so much on Hope to fulfil your inner bean with happiness, you are often left disappointed and dismayed that your Hope never lived up to its potential when you dreamed it in the first place. This can make one rather cynical and a little bitter about life. I hope that never happens to me!
so anyway, I hope I haven't bored you! I hope your day has gone well. I hope you are fit and healthy. I hope you've chosen your friends wisely and that your enemies are very few. I hope you live life to the fullest. I hope you find your soulmate. I hope you are given access to every opportunity for success. I hope you climb mountains, swim rivers, and sail oceans of love and joy. I hope the world finds Peace and the absence of cruelty. I hope there is joy in being unique for every individual. I hope the collective consciousness of mankind is aroused by the Joy of knowing God. I hope for dolphins, bears, dogs and cats. I hope for children in Uganda, India, China and Romania. I hope for the doggies at the local pound. I hope for the indigenous cultures of the world. I hope for the Aussie Federal Election to be OVER A.S.A.P.!
Hope isn't about love so much as its about Faith. Hope and Faith are inextricably linked. But Hope can live quite happily without Love. So if one is to Hope, then one needs to also cultivate Love. Something I need a whole lot more practise in.
Love is the supreme expression of Faith and Hope. Without Love encompassing these two foci on the evidence of unseen things promised in the future... then Faith and Hope are merely selfish aspirations of nothing much.
May Faith Hope and Love reign.
I so hope so.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
sleep away the tapir man
Last night I had one of the WORST nightmares I've had in a long time.
It was graphic and very "Hollywood Horror". This is despite the fact that I rarely, if ever, watch horror blood and gore films (Pulp Fiction notwithstanding...but that was more weird art than horror really).
I woke to feel very distressed and unwilling to fall back to sleep and when I did I had a whole bunch of other very graphic and involved dreams (including a rather convoluted one featuring the Pavlina family!!! *scratches head* Huh?).
I have tried writing my "horror" dream (Sorry Steve... this one wasn't really about you...although that dream WAS creepy in a subdued kind of way)...into a short story, but it remains to be seen if I can make it as tension packed and as graphic as the dream I witnessed last night. I'm not really sure I want to you know. It's very hard to write what one does not want to think about again.
Still! The process of writing out the dream and padding out the non-dreamed scenes in an attempt to fit it together has been cathartic if a little unsuccessful.
The title of this blog sort of describes the main elements of the dream.
It involved young lovers, sleeping bags made for two and some mutant creatures that resembled men but were more like upright tapirs with thick white fleshy skin barely covered with hair and yet covered with much blood...
....you get the picture! Or perhaps not, which would be a lot nicer for you really.
Ugh!
Nightmares are really not very nice things.
If anyone is interested in reading one of my preliminary drafts of this story... email me at michelle underscore pitman at hotmail dot com with tapir man in the subject line and I'll forward you my work in progress such that it is (martin says it needs a fair bit of work to make it work :) so be warned ...its not "that" good).
other than that...I'm off to bed now for a nights SLEEP with no vivid dreams that I shall remember for years to come! *shudder*
It was graphic and very "Hollywood Horror". This is despite the fact that I rarely, if ever, watch horror blood and gore films (Pulp Fiction notwithstanding...but that was more weird art than horror really).
I woke to feel very distressed and unwilling to fall back to sleep and when I did I had a whole bunch of other very graphic and involved dreams (including a rather convoluted one featuring the Pavlina family!!! *scratches head* Huh?).
I have tried writing my "horror" dream (Sorry Steve... this one wasn't really about you...although that dream WAS creepy in a subdued kind of way)...into a short story, but it remains to be seen if I can make it as tension packed and as graphic as the dream I witnessed last night. I'm not really sure I want to you know. It's very hard to write what one does not want to think about again.
Still! The process of writing out the dream and padding out the non-dreamed scenes in an attempt to fit it together has been cathartic if a little unsuccessful.
The title of this blog sort of describes the main elements of the dream.
It involved young lovers, sleeping bags made for two and some mutant creatures that resembled men but were more like upright tapirs with thick white fleshy skin barely covered with hair and yet covered with much blood...
....you get the picture! Or perhaps not, which would be a lot nicer for you really.
Ugh!
Nightmares are really not very nice things.
If anyone is interested in reading one of my preliminary drafts of this story... email me at michelle underscore pitman at hotmail dot com with tapir man in the subject line and I'll forward you my work in progress such that it is (martin says it needs a fair bit of work to make it work :) so be warned ...its not "that" good).
other than that...I'm off to bed now for a nights SLEEP with no vivid dreams that I shall remember for years to come! *shudder*
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Outside me Inside me
Dave Pollard doesn't always do "it" for me but lately I find myself reading his blog again after a long hiatus.
This particular line in his "Sunday Open Thread" on November 4th triggered in me that lovely wee glow of desire for delicious self examination.
Hmmmm!
My outside self is generally friendly, self-deprecating, a little detached, a bit aloof, magnanimous,loquacious, giggly and a bit moody on occasion. I think I come across as a lot more organized than I actually am too. My outside self dresses practically, blockishly, understatedly. I "blend" in but with a few twists to be a little bit Individual. I am sort of ordinary but with these tiny flashes of "WTF-spontaneous-left-of-main-stream" un-ordinariness thrown in.
The more I try to fit my Outside me into the world, the more my Inside me is terrified of being abandoned, being victimized and being seen to be "dumb". I am also inordinately concerned with what other people think about me, summarizing my Self from what I think I see of me behind their eyes.
My REAL inside self is reclusive and very private. I live in an imaginary world most of my day with this internal ever-present conversation with my inner voice. Now that I think about it I probably seem like I am stoned half the time actually :) I assure you my demeanor is not chemically modified...I"m merely lost in the labyrinth of my thinking is all :)
My Inside me is sort of quiet in a way, despite this conversation I run constantly in the back of my mind. I am always scrutinizing, observing and analyzing the world around me - sometimes without realizing it. I'm generally trying out a strategy for manipulation of others, or merely because my curiosity demands I do the research. It's a kind of intense surveillance of the inner worlds of other people. I can forget their name, I can forget what they were wearing and I can forget what they order for lunch every day, but I rarely forget my impression of their persona and essential character. I usually make grand assumptions about people very quickly based on a lot of "unseen" data. I do this almost automatically without even being aware I'm doing it.
If my Inside self was to be expressed, I would most likely look like a really badly put-together hippie! :) I'd wear lots of really impractical clothing like designer stuff for an outdoor barbeque or frothy. silly stuff resembling handkerchiefs at the Opera! And I'd most definitely wear a lot of very low-cut, cleavage-flashing tops!
I'd wear yellow without being concerned that it made my face look sallow! I'd be into sitting on cushions with my legs crossed and I'd wear amazing jewelry I designed myself. I would listen to Alternative Rock (Oh! I already do! ha!), and laugh out loud at a lot of things most people take very seriously, without being "That" concerned for their feelings.
Notably, my Inside me hardly follows anyone else's rules but those I choose to follow. Any rules that do not serve my purposes are quietly bent, very much, out of shape by my subtle but profoundly indefatigable will. :) I am a sort of velvet covered steam-roller when it comes to things like that I guess! :)
You know, it's interesting but I just realized that for the first time in my life.. at age 45... my Outside me is very much closer to my Inside me than I ever used to be. I am finally beginning to integrate and becoming "true" to the self that I really am instead of being so terrified of being on the "outside" just because I feel so "different" to other people on my inside.
And I guess I'll change my mind about all the above at some stage! :)
We shall see.
:)
This particular line in his "Sunday Open Thread" on November 4th triggered in me that lovely wee glow of desire for delicious self examination.
How does your public persona, the way you choose to project yourself to the world, most differ from your true self, your true nature.Why?
Hmmmm!
My outside self is generally friendly, self-deprecating, a little detached, a bit aloof, magnanimous,loquacious, giggly and a bit moody on occasion. I think I come across as a lot more organized than I actually am too. My outside self dresses practically, blockishly, understatedly. I "blend" in but with a few twists to be a little bit Individual. I am sort of ordinary but with these tiny flashes of "WTF-spontaneous-left-of-main-stream" un-ordinariness thrown in.
The more I try to fit my Outside me into the world, the more my Inside me is terrified of being abandoned, being victimized and being seen to be "dumb". I am also inordinately concerned with what other people think about me, summarizing my Self from what I think I see of me behind their eyes.
My REAL inside self is reclusive and very private. I live in an imaginary world most of my day with this internal ever-present conversation with my inner voice. Now that I think about it I probably seem like I am stoned half the time actually :) I assure you my demeanor is not chemically modified...I"m merely lost in the labyrinth of my thinking is all :)
My Inside me is sort of quiet in a way, despite this conversation I run constantly in the back of my mind. I am always scrutinizing, observing and analyzing the world around me - sometimes without realizing it. I'm generally trying out a strategy for manipulation of others, or merely because my curiosity demands I do the research. It's a kind of intense surveillance of the inner worlds of other people. I can forget their name, I can forget what they were wearing and I can forget what they order for lunch every day, but I rarely forget my impression of their persona and essential character. I usually make grand assumptions about people very quickly based on a lot of "unseen" data. I do this almost automatically without even being aware I'm doing it.
If my Inside self was to be expressed, I would most likely look like a really badly put-together hippie! :) I'd wear lots of really impractical clothing like designer stuff for an outdoor barbeque or frothy. silly stuff resembling handkerchiefs at the Opera! And I'd most definitely wear a lot of very low-cut, cleavage-flashing tops!
I'd wear yellow without being concerned that it made my face look sallow! I'd be into sitting on cushions with my legs crossed and I'd wear amazing jewelry I designed myself. I would listen to Alternative Rock (Oh! I already do! ha!), and laugh out loud at a lot of things most people take very seriously, without being "That" concerned for their feelings.
Notably, my Inside me hardly follows anyone else's rules but those I choose to follow. Any rules that do not serve my purposes are quietly bent, very much, out of shape by my subtle but profoundly indefatigable will. :) I am a sort of velvet covered steam-roller when it comes to things like that I guess! :)
You know, it's interesting but I just realized that for the first time in my life.. at age 45... my Outside me is very much closer to my Inside me than I ever used to be. I am finally beginning to integrate and becoming "true" to the self that I really am instead of being so terrified of being on the "outside" just because I feel so "different" to other people on my inside.
And I guess I'll change my mind about all the above at some stage! :)
We shall see.
:)
Monday, November 05, 2007
the holding breath man
*this is actually something I dreamt*
She was very concerned for it. She couldn't really understand why she would be feeling so concerned for a mere doll!
It was a little plastic man-doll, standing straight and tall like a toy soldier, but without the clothing or demeanor of a soldier; its long legs set together and its shoulders square and pulled back, it's head held stiff and high.
She considered it for a few moments, the anxiety rising in her throat from who knew where. The doll was sort of hovering just below the surface of the water. Not really floating but not sinking either. Even weirder was the fact that the wee little man-doll was floating vertically in the water. Immovable like a baton but aligned in perfect symmatry to the clear blue waters of the backyard pool.
She felt strangely as if the man-doll were about to "drown".
She reached in and pulled it out and lay it on the edge of the pool. It promptly rolled off the edge, sank to the bottom, rolled along the bottom of the pool in a kind of stacato bobbing motion and then floated up to hover just below the surface again vertically.
The mounting tension inside of her began to really bother her. She felt suddenly that this man-doll was trying to tell her something. Leaning as far as she dared over the edge she reached into the water and grabbed at it again and pulled it out.
Again, she set it on the edge of the pool, laying face up in the sun. She noted its appearance was struck by the clarity of its eyes. It was wearing a dark pullover with a high collar and a pair of black jeans. It had tiny perfectly formed little sneakers on its feet. Its hair was auburn and swept up off his high forehead, a kind of non-descript hairdo that was neither fashionable but nor was it ugly. He had a small nose and hardly any mouth. His eyes though were something else. They were large round eyes with bright sky blue irises and the longest black lashes she'd seen on any man-doll. Then it seemed to look at her from under those lashes blankly and then rolled back off the edge to repeat its underwater dance of vertical hovering.
"How bizarre!" she thought to herself. She left the little man-doll floating for some time then but the rising concern would not go away. She fretted that it was actually drowning and it worried her.
Then passing the pool again later that day, she noticed it was in the very centre almost at the bottom but still vertical and with a determined air too...even though that idea seemed too strange to be real.
She slid into the cool water and went to the little man-doll and scooped it up again from its watery haven. Holding the tiny man-doll by the legs she held it up to her face and peered into its little face. It stared back at her.
Then blinked!
She started! "Are you alive? Two blinks for 'Yes' and one blink for 'No'" she asked somewhat surprised.
It blinked twice. Two determined, slow and deliberate blinks of those crystal clear blue eyes and long eyelashes.
"What are you trying to do?" she asked again. "Drown?"
Blinking slowly once the little man-doll seemed to be sort of smiling a sad smile even though he had hardly a mouth to show for it.
"Are you trying to break a Breath Holding record then?" which was a sort of half-joke really, but the occasion seemed as if it demanded a bit of levity with which to lighten her befuddled sense of reality. The man-doll blinked twice.
"Huh?" She was now suitably confused and perplexed and very concerned for the little mans wellbeing. "So... you really want to hold your breath for as long as possible under the water here?" she said in slow, deliberate tones. The little man-doll blinked twice.
She gently set him into the water again where he sank vertically to just below the surface to begin his "Breath Holding" record-breaking attempt yet again. A sort of psychic infusion of thought reached her brain as she watched him. Her concern for him was still high, higher because she knew him to be very much alive under all that plastic hair and soldier straightness. However, now she felt very much like this was not so much an exercise in drowning as an attempt to prove something beyond a doubt.
Leaving him alone, she went inside and after awhile her thoughts slipped away from her concern for the little man-doll floating in the backyard pool. If he was holding his breath, then he was doing a fine job at it! Hours and hours passed and she finally went to sleep but fitfully and restless as if there was something on her mind; which there was.
She awoke with a start and felt the pangs of guilt at her "forgetting" her little man in the pool. Running from her bed she went to the pool to see him still vertical at the bottom, upright, immovable, with an inscrutable smile on his mouth-less face...just holding his breath until whatever record for that was all but a memory.
Frustration, panic, and compassion was all she could feel for him and something else... admiration? She wasn't sure. He just seemed hell-bent on holding his breath and she was forever afraid that he would just stop his fight and simply drown.
She could not bear to see him drown.
She was very concerned for it. She couldn't really understand why she would be feeling so concerned for a mere doll!
It was a little plastic man-doll, standing straight and tall like a toy soldier, but without the clothing or demeanor of a soldier; its long legs set together and its shoulders square and pulled back, it's head held stiff and high.
She considered it for a few moments, the anxiety rising in her throat from who knew where. The doll was sort of hovering just below the surface of the water. Not really floating but not sinking either. Even weirder was the fact that the wee little man-doll was floating vertically in the water. Immovable like a baton but aligned in perfect symmatry to the clear blue waters of the backyard pool.
She felt strangely as if the man-doll were about to "drown".
She reached in and pulled it out and lay it on the edge of the pool. It promptly rolled off the edge, sank to the bottom, rolled along the bottom of the pool in a kind of stacato bobbing motion and then floated up to hover just below the surface again vertically.
The mounting tension inside of her began to really bother her. She felt suddenly that this man-doll was trying to tell her something. Leaning as far as she dared over the edge she reached into the water and grabbed at it again and pulled it out.
Again, she set it on the edge of the pool, laying face up in the sun. She noted its appearance was struck by the clarity of its eyes. It was wearing a dark pullover with a high collar and a pair of black jeans. It had tiny perfectly formed little sneakers on its feet. Its hair was auburn and swept up off his high forehead, a kind of non-descript hairdo that was neither fashionable but nor was it ugly. He had a small nose and hardly any mouth. His eyes though were something else. They were large round eyes with bright sky blue irises and the longest black lashes she'd seen on any man-doll. Then it seemed to look at her from under those lashes blankly and then rolled back off the edge to repeat its underwater dance of vertical hovering.
"How bizarre!" she thought to herself. She left the little man-doll floating for some time then but the rising concern would not go away. She fretted that it was actually drowning and it worried her.
Then passing the pool again later that day, she noticed it was in the very centre almost at the bottom but still vertical and with a determined air too...even though that idea seemed too strange to be real.
She slid into the cool water and went to the little man-doll and scooped it up again from its watery haven. Holding the tiny man-doll by the legs she held it up to her face and peered into its little face. It stared back at her.
Then blinked!
She started! "Are you alive? Two blinks for 'Yes' and one blink for 'No'" she asked somewhat surprised.
It blinked twice. Two determined, slow and deliberate blinks of those crystal clear blue eyes and long eyelashes.
"What are you trying to do?" she asked again. "Drown?"
Blinking slowly once the little man-doll seemed to be sort of smiling a sad smile even though he had hardly a mouth to show for it.
"Are you trying to break a Breath Holding record then?" which was a sort of half-joke really, but the occasion seemed as if it demanded a bit of levity with which to lighten her befuddled sense of reality. The man-doll blinked twice.
"Huh?" She was now suitably confused and perplexed and very concerned for the little mans wellbeing. "So... you really want to hold your breath for as long as possible under the water here?" she said in slow, deliberate tones. The little man-doll blinked twice.
She gently set him into the water again where he sank vertically to just below the surface to begin his "Breath Holding" record-breaking attempt yet again. A sort of psychic infusion of thought reached her brain as she watched him. Her concern for him was still high, higher because she knew him to be very much alive under all that plastic hair and soldier straightness. However, now she felt very much like this was not so much an exercise in drowning as an attempt to prove something beyond a doubt.
Leaving him alone, she went inside and after awhile her thoughts slipped away from her concern for the little man-doll floating in the backyard pool. If he was holding his breath, then he was doing a fine job at it! Hours and hours passed and she finally went to sleep but fitfully and restless as if there was something on her mind; which there was.
She awoke with a start and felt the pangs of guilt at her "forgetting" her little man in the pool. Running from her bed she went to the pool to see him still vertical at the bottom, upright, immovable, with an inscrutable smile on his mouth-less face...just holding his breath until whatever record for that was all but a memory.
Frustration, panic, and compassion was all she could feel for him and something else... admiration? She wasn't sure. He just seemed hell-bent on holding his breath and she was forever afraid that he would just stop his fight and simply drown.
She could not bear to see him drown.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Castle Love
Somehow, she knew she had to break free from her own trap.
She'd been happy to make it back then. Content to let it grow its vines around her turrets and set roots into her crevices.
The trap was her marriage. She had welcomed it and honored it when it began. Opened her yawning maws with a smile of gratified contentment that it would be a "good thing". It was so little, such a pretty little thing. A little bereft looking and a little bit lonely, she let it envelope her and was not unduly dismayed.
She even fought for it when fronds seemed to die off and wither away. She would have a healthy growing trap if you please! Not one that was a dead, chaotic tangle of exposed woody vine matter showing its ugly face to the passing world! No way! So she tended it. Watered it. Loved it through her daily sacrifice and gentle subjugation of her walls and boundaries.
The Vine was voracious.
It demanded more space from her daily. The creeping, wriggling little vine-lets with their soft cute growth seemed so pretty but in truth were a malevolent force intent of using her to fortify it and strengthen its resolve to conquer her ramparts.
Pieces of her started to fall away. First she lost tiny pebbles of respect but ignored them and refused to shore the walls from where they fell with the mortar of self respect. She allowed the vine to eat away at her, sucking the clay from between the stones of her resolve, making those very stones dangerous to passers by.
She became weak, vulnerable, and impossible to predict! She was not "safe" anymore. Something in her forced others away from her. She became abandoned and derelict, a sad excuse for a castle on a beautiful hill. The Vine seemed content but found it harder and harder to be fed by her. It had taken so much of her core, her "glue" from between her lovely stones... it was hard pressed to find more. It demanded from her ever more; urgently, it required she meet its needs and not ask anything of it in return.
The castle had to do something drastic!
It stopped feeding the vine. It prayed to the Sun who answered her prayer with a difficult challenge and an awesome opportunity. The Sun came and dried the mortar that was left between her stone walls into hard, unyielding clay such that the vine could not penetrate with its voracious little roots. The castle solidly stood its ground and waited under the parched sky as the land around it began to suffer and burn under the relentless heat of change.
She was immutable however. She accepted the stinging warmth of the blazing sun on her flagstones and just waited!
The vine shriveled. It retreated its green down to the first few stumps of its original growth, spluttered and then almost died.
And there she stood. Grey and unwelcoming, covered in the very thing she had always feared the most...those withered bare roots encasing her like the trap she had always thought she would enjoy if it were green and alive!
A gardener passing by saw this and made a fated decision. He tore away the vines. He poisoned the last remaining clinging roots so they could not return. He brought in people who could re point and renovate the castle to her former glory. He brought her out of her trap so she could be herself again. Free to be as she was meant to be without restraints or demands.
The castle rewarded the gardener and gave him the heart of herself...her very soul deep in the interior of her being. There he made his home and they both found deep contentment and joy even in the hard times. The gardner did not need the Castle but nor did the Castle really need the gardner but they were simpatico and they grew to love each other as love should be expressed. No demands just a gentle decision to care for and meet a beautiful thing where it wanted to be met.
The gentle rains came back and the hill was verdant and aesthetically marvelous once more. Life tread out a steady rhythm of freedom and safety such she had never known or understood until then. No more would she need to subjugate herself in order to keep something alive! She was loved for who and what she was and was not required or expected to be entrapped by it.
Beware the roots of pretty green things you only think will serve you well.
She'd been happy to make it back then. Content to let it grow its vines around her turrets and set roots into her crevices.
The trap was her marriage. She had welcomed it and honored it when it began. Opened her yawning maws with a smile of gratified contentment that it would be a "good thing". It was so little, such a pretty little thing. A little bereft looking and a little bit lonely, she let it envelope her and was not unduly dismayed.
She even fought for it when fronds seemed to die off and wither away. She would have a healthy growing trap if you please! Not one that was a dead, chaotic tangle of exposed woody vine matter showing its ugly face to the passing world! No way! So she tended it. Watered it. Loved it through her daily sacrifice and gentle subjugation of her walls and boundaries.
The Vine was voracious.
It demanded more space from her daily. The creeping, wriggling little vine-lets with their soft cute growth seemed so pretty but in truth were a malevolent force intent of using her to fortify it and strengthen its resolve to conquer her ramparts.
Pieces of her started to fall away. First she lost tiny pebbles of respect but ignored them and refused to shore the walls from where they fell with the mortar of self respect. She allowed the vine to eat away at her, sucking the clay from between the stones of her resolve, making those very stones dangerous to passers by.
She became weak, vulnerable, and impossible to predict! She was not "safe" anymore. Something in her forced others away from her. She became abandoned and derelict, a sad excuse for a castle on a beautiful hill. The Vine seemed content but found it harder and harder to be fed by her. It had taken so much of her core, her "glue" from between her lovely stones... it was hard pressed to find more. It demanded from her ever more; urgently, it required she meet its needs and not ask anything of it in return.
The castle had to do something drastic!
It stopped feeding the vine. It prayed to the Sun who answered her prayer with a difficult challenge and an awesome opportunity. The Sun came and dried the mortar that was left between her stone walls into hard, unyielding clay such that the vine could not penetrate with its voracious little roots. The castle solidly stood its ground and waited under the parched sky as the land around it began to suffer and burn under the relentless heat of change.
She was immutable however. She accepted the stinging warmth of the blazing sun on her flagstones and just waited!
The vine shriveled. It retreated its green down to the first few stumps of its original growth, spluttered and then almost died.
And there she stood. Grey and unwelcoming, covered in the very thing she had always feared the most...those withered bare roots encasing her like the trap she had always thought she would enjoy if it were green and alive!
A gardener passing by saw this and made a fated decision. He tore away the vines. He poisoned the last remaining clinging roots so they could not return. He brought in people who could re point and renovate the castle to her former glory. He brought her out of her trap so she could be herself again. Free to be as she was meant to be without restraints or demands.
The castle rewarded the gardener and gave him the heart of herself...her very soul deep in the interior of her being. There he made his home and they both found deep contentment and joy even in the hard times. The gardner did not need the Castle but nor did the Castle really need the gardner but they were simpatico and they grew to love each other as love should be expressed. No demands just a gentle decision to care for and meet a beautiful thing where it wanted to be met.
The gentle rains came back and the hill was verdant and aesthetically marvelous once more. Life tread out a steady rhythm of freedom and safety such she had never known or understood until then. No more would she need to subjugate herself in order to keep something alive! She was loved for who and what she was and was not required or expected to be entrapped by it.
Beware the roots of pretty green things you only think will serve you well.
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