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Monthly Archives: November 2012

Freeplay Friday

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I like this song, I like this singer, and I like the steampunk feel of this video. Give me a little dose of Eric Church every day and it’ll make that day a better one. Those big brown eyes don’t hurt, either.

Bonus! My fave Eric Church song:

Things I learned on my walk yesterday

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* I have more stamina than I did not too long ago.

* I may need smaller jeans soonish, or else I’m really good at fooling myself into thinking I may need smaller jeans soonish.

* Bobbers are fun toys for any age. Except maybe for babies. They do have some poky bits. Bobbers, that is, although I suppose babies might also have some poky bits.

* I probably shouldn’t be climbing things when my back hurts.

* Sticker bushes are aptly named.

* Of all the kinds of poo you might step in, horse poo really isn’t all that bad. You still probably don’t want to drop your keys or chapstick in it, though.

* Watching sparrows feed is surprisingly good entertainment.

* Rocks that look like ancient Native American stone tools may not be, but sometimes they are, and when they are, it’s really cool.

* Some people, given opportunity, need, and even a nominal sense of privacy, will pee anywhere.

* Throwing rocks onto an ice-covered pond? Always a good idea.

The best of what I have

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My second night of meditation went well. I used a guided meditation I found on You Tube that focused on healing (bodily, although I’ve found that healing in one area almost inevitably leads to healing in others) and while there weren’t any exceptionally profound moments or insights, the half hour or so I spent with this meditation left me feeling very relaxed, at ease, and kind of vaguely hopeful. Of what, I don’t know, but still, it was a really nice feeling and some of that still lingers this morning.

I’m waiting for some work to show up in my queue and am doing a little gift shopping while I wait. Anyone who knows me will tell you this isn’t my favorite time of the year, with the pressure to BUY! BUY! BUY! and constant ads and deals and discounts and get ’em while they last messages. I also don’t like the fuss or the music or the fakey goodwill, and did I mention the fuss? Just once, I’d like to be able to create the perfect Christmas, with the perfect (for me) person alongside me. It’d be quiet, and homey, and simple, and lovely. A thoughtful gift or two, a nice meal, a walk in the woods, maybe, and abundant, quietly joyous peace throughout the day, shared with someone like-minded and deeply loved. Heaven.

But until then, I will work toward making the best of what I have to work with. My siblings and their spouses and I have at long last convinced our mother that it’d be okay if there were fewer gifts, at least among the five of us, and Mom is promising a “simple” meal this year. We’ll see. My idea of simple is very different from hers.

I think I’d better hang onto that vaguely hopeful feeling–it is, after all, a big part of the best of what I have.

In–out

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So I did something last night I haven’t done in a long, long time–I meditated.

I’m not going all woo-woo on you, and even if I were, you have no reason to worry. Like many aspects of my life, this is something I do for me, because of the benefits to me and by extension, to others, but I’m not about to foist it off on anyone else. I might encourage some folks to consider it as an option, but I’m not looking for converts.

Several years ago, meditation was a just-about-every-night tool in my sass kit. It calmed, grounded, centered me. It made me feel peaceful and good, and there were times I experienced the profound while meditating. I’m thinking I could use a healthy dose of all of those things, and I’m adding this practice to my sassback bag once more.

I’m no expert on the practice of meditation, so don’t look to me for any methods other than the very simple “follow the breath” method.  At the most basic level, this method is exactly what it sounds like–one breathes, and that’s the focus of the meditation. In–out. Thoughts do come to mind, but they’re simply noted and allowed to pass. In–out. That’s all there is. There’s a ton of information online if you’re intrigued, from this and other methods of meditation to the health benefits of meditation. Take a look if you’re curious.

Sounds dead simple, this following the breath, and I suppose it is, and yet–there were those profound moments years ago. Times when I became aware of the warmth in my hands, even on the coldest of nights. Times when I had the sensation of feeling my breath as a palpable, if very light, weight leaving my nostrils to gently sink down into my hands and linger there for a moment or two. I held my breath, in my hands.

I have also from time to time used guided meditations, and again, there’s a load of information online to aid in that practice. As with following my breath, there were truly transcendent moments, not every night, but the ones I had? Amazing. Maybe I’ll tell you the one about the buffalo sometime.

Until then, I’ll keep breathing. In–out.

Ahhhh.

 

 

Reboot

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So I had a couple of bad days over the weekend and did a fair amount of sniveling and feeling sorry for myself. You may have noticed.

Well, I’m done. No more sniveling, at least not here. I’ll save my bitching and moaning for my private journal. You won’t see that here anymore. My posts will either be positive or I won’t post at all, because all that whining was just weighing me down, and who the hell wants to read that shit all the time? I sure as sugar don’t, and I don’t want to keep wallowing in it while I’m writing it, either. So–I’m rebooting and I’m focusing on the positive, on the uplifting, on the inspiring. Except for Freeplay Friday. I’m not giving up my bawling calf songs. I love me a good ‘ol tearjerker–they just hurt so good.

I saw this video on FB, posted by the inimitable George Takei, and by god, if this guy can turn “you can’t” and “you’ll never” and “I can’t help you” into “I can and I will,” then so can other ordinary mortals.

Be inspired.

Sunday lament

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I broke my tech sabbath today in hopes of getting some work in, to make up for slacking last week. No joy there, and I’m not planning on lingering online waiting to see if anything shows up. That’s the nature of my work–sometimes there’s more than I can possibly do; other times, nada.

I need to do laundry but am reluctant to go upstairs to the laundry room after another unpleasant incident with my mom yesterday. That’s her realm, the upstairs, and it’s one I’m not eager to enter today.

Emotional upheavals are becoming more frequent with her, and while on an intellectual level I have some understanding of why they are happening, in the moment they are difficult to deal with. I’m three years old again and being subjected to the tyranny of an angry parent whose contriteness following a blow-up is as over the top as the outburst. Neither is easy to take, so I hide like a fearful child. I avoid. I’m good at that.

If there’s anything good in this, and I’m reaching here, it’s that this kind of behavior is becoming less closeted than it has been for many years, and my siblings and their spouses are starting to see this. Perhaps they are beginning to realize that it has not been easy for me, dealing not only with mom but their lack of credulity when I’ve complained. Which has not been often, because I have not been listened to or believed. Perhaps they will become more my allies and less other combatants in this battle that will inevitably lead to all of us losing something in the end.

This is hard, hard stuff.

Give me strength. I can only carry so much.

Saturday lament

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On Monday, it was 70 degrees here. I played hooky because it was too darn nice to be stuck inside. (I’ve been making up for it at work today, by the way, and likely will tomorrow as well). Today, it’s a mere 26 at noon.

I feel compelled to lodge a formal protest.

It won’t do a dang bit of good, I know, but still–I protest. Winter sucks. I would run away down south or out west if I could. I would run away any time of the year if I could, truth be told, but I can’t do that any more than I can change the weather.

Sigh.

The only good thing I can say about this time of year is that we’re closer to the winter solstice now than not, but there’s still December, January, and February to get through. Give me strength. I don’t know if I can do it or not.

Winter sucks.

Also on the sucky side of things: having an aging parent. There’s a reason there are support groups for folks like me who are increasingly the parent to their parent.  This is some hard stuff.

But I found today that I am stronger than I once was. Something that would have knocked me to my knees not that long ago was bearable.

I will not be beaten down.