Not shuffling off anything mind you, but things have been stressful of late.
As to dreams: I dreamt this morning that my car was parked in a strange lot under a bridge. It turned suddenly dark while I was fumbling for my keys. For some reason I cannot recall I left the car briefly but ran back in a panic and dove back in slamming the door after me. Outside was a scruffy young woman on a bicycle - very girl with the dragon tattoo, but her coloring was more like mine with a mostly shorn head. She pulled a big-ass Browning out if her pocket and pointed the weapon at me. I ducked down below the dash, which caused her to stamp her feet and flail in frustration.
Then she put the barrel in her own mouth, stopping only when I screamed and started trying to dial 911. Even just the effort of asking for help made her stop.
And stand there on the packed earth of the lot, surrounded by scrubby plants, staring at me with determined eyes.
Then I woke up.
Apparently I am trying to get my attention yes?
Tuesday, 22 May 2012
Saturday, 5 May 2012
Sunday, 25 March 2012
Going For a Stretch, in more ways than one
Writing every day is not only a good thing; it's an awesome thing, made of finding one's way back.
Just thought you should know :D
Most of it, as I said before has been tossed, or is deeply personal and so would not show up here, but all the same... writing. Add in a Writers Workshop with Fred Stenson yesterday, with a curator lead tour of photos by Edward Burtynsky as inspiration for landscape writing, and the day spent with my very good friend... even better.
But I was supposed to tell you how I made yoga submit to my will. How I made it ma bitchyo.
Let me tell you a story:
I have funny feet – I was going to say "bad" feet, but they are just funny, a little odd, not inherently evil or anything, so I shall not call them bad – and these funny feet of mine much prefer to be supported by a groovy pair of things molded to make them and me much more comfortable. Orthotics: they are a blessing. I know they are because when I don't wear them, and I walk far far too much, I get ridiculous amounts of pain in my feet, legs, lower back, shoulders – pain in my everything essentially.
Problem is: you have to switch them from shoe to shoe. And I didn't. This resulted in pain, particularly in my lower back. It made me munged all day at work - sort of semi crippled wherein I could move but it had to be slowly and not with my body fully upright. Sort of a pseudo crouch, with my knees bent, hips dropped and back mostly perpendicular to the floor. Think, "Office Ninja Walk". Or, more accurately, think, "Broken-ass Walk". Think, "Really Very Odd Walk".
No one noticed, or at least seemed to notice. Perhaps they did not think it odd. Not sure what this says about where I work *g*
Anyway, came home and proceeded to apply various yoga poses - gently - and the pain eased. The pain retreated entirely. I could walk once more like the upright bipedal beastie I am. Whooo hoo!! And furthermore, yoga was mine to use for my purposes. Muhahahaha!!
*cough*
Funny thing about that; Yoga does things to you when you do yoga. It opens you up for one thing. In opening up me, my heart, I came to a realization that the pain I was seeking to relieve? It wasn't in my back, my legs, my feet, but it was in my everything, especially my heart, metaphorically speaking. Yoga took a simple thing like relieving a sore back and turned it into a personal and very necessary task of self exploration, replete with vivid dreams, esoteric messages, and strangely coincidental experiences that cannot be ignored.
I used yoga to stretch out some stuff, and it decided to pop my soul out for a stretch too.
The SAS and Marine Corp have a saying, "Pain is just weakness leaving the body". Uhm, yeah. Sheesh it has been quite a few weeks I tell ya. Additionally, I figured out that the pain was not only metaphorically in my heart, but literally as well. Looking into that and will let you know what I discover. The writing will help.
I have a lot of work to do.
I'm pretty sure it involves more yoga... yup, I'm yoga's bitchyo. Go figure.
Just thought you should know :D
Most of it, as I said before has been tossed, or is deeply personal and so would not show up here, but all the same... writing. Add in a Writers Workshop with Fred Stenson yesterday, with a curator lead tour of photos by Edward Burtynsky as inspiration for landscape writing, and the day spent with my very good friend... even better.
But I was supposed to tell you how I made yoga submit to my will. How I made it ma bitchyo.
Let me tell you a story:
I have funny feet – I was going to say "bad" feet, but they are just funny, a little odd, not inherently evil or anything, so I shall not call them bad – and these funny feet of mine much prefer to be supported by a groovy pair of things molded to make them and me much more comfortable. Orthotics: they are a blessing. I know they are because when I don't wear them, and I walk far far too much, I get ridiculous amounts of pain in my feet, legs, lower back, shoulders – pain in my everything essentially.
Problem is: you have to switch them from shoe to shoe. And I didn't. This resulted in pain, particularly in my lower back. It made me munged all day at work - sort of semi crippled wherein I could move but it had to be slowly and not with my body fully upright. Sort of a pseudo crouch, with my knees bent, hips dropped and back mostly perpendicular to the floor. Think, "Office Ninja Walk". Or, more accurately, think, "Broken-ass Walk". Think, "Really Very Odd Walk".
No one noticed, or at least seemed to notice. Perhaps they did not think it odd. Not sure what this says about where I work *g*
Anyway, came home and proceeded to apply various yoga poses - gently - and the pain eased. The pain retreated entirely. I could walk once more like the upright bipedal beastie I am. Whooo hoo!! And furthermore, yoga was mine to use for my purposes. Muhahahaha!!
*cough*
Funny thing about that; Yoga does things to you when you do yoga. It opens you up for one thing. In opening up me, my heart, I came to a realization that the pain I was seeking to relieve? It wasn't in my back, my legs, my feet, but it was in my everything, especially my heart, metaphorically speaking. Yoga took a simple thing like relieving a sore back and turned it into a personal and very necessary task of self exploration, replete with vivid dreams, esoteric messages, and strangely coincidental experiences that cannot be ignored.
I used yoga to stretch out some stuff, and it decided to pop my soul out for a stretch too.
The SAS and Marine Corp have a saying, "Pain is just weakness leaving the body". Uhm, yeah. Sheesh it has been quite a few weeks I tell ya. Additionally, I figured out that the pain was not only metaphorically in my heart, but literally as well. Looking into that and will let you know what I discover. The writing will help.
I have a lot of work to do.
I'm pretty sure it involves more yoga... yup, I'm yoga's bitchyo. Go figure.
Tuesday, 21 February 2012
Bottom of the Glass
Ever have one of those weeks?
Years?
(The year is short so far, so I can legitimately say, "Ever have one of those years?" and not be too far into hyperbole in doing so.)
And when one says such a thing, hyperbole or not, there are often those who will point out *and pointing out is such a nice thing to do, especially when the pointers don't really know or care about a person, but simply want to 'point out' something already painfully obvious and make it all the more painful in the pointing, making themselves, the pointers, look not like the awesomely helpful, all-knowing types they long to be seen as, but like enormous rat bag eogoists – whatnot to be remembered when willfully and self importantly being "helpful" in such a manner*, yes this moment, when you are just feeling the dregs, when someone will say that you are always such a "glass half empty kind of girl".
Then there will be some blithering nonsense about "self-fulfilling prophecies" and other equally misunderstood psychobabble that helpful types such as these regurgitate in times of need. As if those individuals actually thought the glass half empty kind of girl were truly that powerful, that she somehow had an firm handle on the workings of the universe and was consciously creating every nuance of every little messed up thing as opposed to just trying to keep her head above water, like the rest of the struggling.
Because the struggling don't do that. Handle things. That is their problem. The struggling – they struggle.
They don't have it by the tail yet, as it were. And neither do the "helpful" for that matter, or they wouldn't say such a thing. Saying it in any case is truly unproductive. Unless of course it makes them feel better to put someone down just that bit further. Because that is always an important thing to do: crush the crushed. There, that's helpful. Aren't they great?
If they thought she (and feel free to insert "he" in here anywhere) did have it by the tail and could consciously create such chaos, they'd shut right up and sit politely in a corner, hoping Half Empty Hannah/Harold (lets give our hero a name, shall we) didn't turn her laser beams of despair on them and screw their lives up too. Then some "helpful" person could come along and crush them too, and Half Empty Hannah would be ruler of the sad universe of sad!
Luckily, actually having the universe by the tail doesn't do that – more like: order out of chaos, that sort of thing. But I digress...
Ever have one of those weeks? where you look into the proverbial glass and not only is it not half full, it isn't even half empty?? It's full on, dry at the bottom, dangit I think I can see the floor through this thing empty empty???
Yes. One of those.
Ever occur to you that maybe you were just gazing into the wrong darned glass?
It did me. And let me tell ya, it was like a freakin epiphany!!
0_o
PS - the other glasses: full to the top with stuff, believe me. :)
NEXT UP - how I plan to make yoga my bitch.
Years?
(The year is short so far, so I can legitimately say, "Ever have one of those years?" and not be too far into hyperbole in doing so.)
And when one says such a thing, hyperbole or not, there are often those who will point out *and pointing out is such a nice thing to do, especially when the pointers don't really know or care about a person, but simply want to 'point out' something already painfully obvious and make it all the more painful in the pointing, making themselves, the pointers, look not like the awesomely helpful, all-knowing types they long to be seen as, but like enormous rat bag eogoists – whatnot to be remembered when willfully and self importantly being "helpful" in such a manner*, yes this moment, when you are just feeling the dregs, when someone will say that you are always such a "glass half empty kind of girl".
Then there will be some blithering nonsense about "self-fulfilling prophecies" and other equally misunderstood psychobabble that helpful types such as these regurgitate in times of need. As if those individuals actually thought the glass half empty kind of girl were truly that powerful, that she somehow had an firm handle on the workings of the universe and was consciously creating every nuance of every little messed up thing as opposed to just trying to keep her head above water, like the rest of the struggling.
Because the struggling don't do that. Handle things. That is their problem. The struggling – they struggle.
They don't have it by the tail yet, as it were. And neither do the "helpful" for that matter, or they wouldn't say such a thing. Saying it in any case is truly unproductive. Unless of course it makes them feel better to put someone down just that bit further. Because that is always an important thing to do: crush the crushed. There, that's helpful. Aren't they great?
If they thought she (and feel free to insert "he" in here anywhere) did have it by the tail and could consciously create such chaos, they'd shut right up and sit politely in a corner, hoping Half Empty Hannah/Harold (lets give our hero a name, shall we) didn't turn her laser beams of despair on them and screw their lives up too. Then some "helpful" person could come along and crush them too, and Half Empty Hannah would be ruler of the sad universe of sad!
Luckily, actually having the universe by the tail doesn't do that – more like: order out of chaos, that sort of thing. But I digress...
Ever have one of those weeks? where you look into the proverbial glass and not only is it not half full, it isn't even half empty?? It's full on, dry at the bottom, dangit I think I can see the floor through this thing empty empty???
Yes. One of those.
Ever occur to you that maybe you were just gazing into the wrong darned glass?
It did me. And let me tell ya, it was like a freakin epiphany!!
0_o
PS - the other glasses: full to the top with stuff, believe me. :)
NEXT UP - how I plan to make yoga my bitch.
Tuesday, 14 February 2012
Taking care of ... who am I again?
Self care.
Self change.
Hey, it's February, it's still all the rage, those resolutions made for the New Year are still hanging on - some wheezing loudly, some only "hanging on" because of some sticky residue left behind when they have actually expired, but yes, there were promises made. I'm still working on them.
I'm not the only one.
And I'm not the only one that decided that 2012 would be the year of getting myself together
Interesting thing about it though, is that when you get on a roll, and start expressing yourself, start feeling like yourself, someone will come right out the walls and put you in your place for it.
And THAT kittehs, was what last year's resolution was supposed to be about. That resolution was about silencing the evil peanut gallery in my head. That peanut gallery can just as easily be summoned up in the guise of people you know and love, or at least know, and maybe even people you don't. And sometimes it's even the dog!
You know why kittehs?
Because it is still inside your head.
My head.
Time to bait and switch the peanuts - get em to watch tv or somesuch. Because they are still there.
Well, who said a Resolution, though for a new calendrical year, was supposed to be completed in a year anyway?
Self care is also about cutting one's self a wee bit of slack, and not being overly (peanutty) critical about it.
Ta for now
Self change.
Hey, it's February, it's still all the rage, those resolutions made for the New Year are still hanging on - some wheezing loudly, some only "hanging on" because of some sticky residue left behind when they have actually expired, but yes, there were promises made. I'm still working on them.
I'm not the only one.
And I'm not the only one that decided that 2012 would be the year of getting myself together
Interesting thing about it though, is that when you get on a roll, and start expressing yourself, start feeling like yourself, someone will come right out the walls and put you in your place for it.
And THAT kittehs, was what last year's resolution was supposed to be about. That resolution was about silencing the evil peanut gallery in my head. That peanut gallery can just as easily be summoned up in the guise of people you know and love, or at least know, and maybe even people you don't. And sometimes it's even the dog!
You know why kittehs?
Because it is still inside your head.
My head.
Time to bait and switch the peanuts - get em to watch tv or somesuch. Because they are still there.
Well, who said a Resolution, though for a new calendrical year, was supposed to be completed in a year anyway?
Self care is also about cutting one's self a wee bit of slack, and not being overly (peanutty) critical about it.
Ta for now
Monday, 23 January 2012
Write.. Delete... Write... Delete
Well, haven't I been productive?
I have, actually, you just can't see any of it. And neither can I anymore.
Sometimes this writing thing requires a time period of purge and release I guess, not trying to get it right, just trying to get it out.
Tis happening, slowly but surely. Plus I am editing. I have an opportunity to attempt to get a piece published.
And you know... it scares the crap out of me.
Bound by ~TheGrantGirl on deviantART
How exactly DOES one get out of one's own way?
My dreams tell me to plant an indoor garden and revamp my "kitchen". Sounds about right. I shake my head at how difficult self care can be as a prospect though. And how cranky it can make a person - but Oh my Queen, Oh your belly! But that is a post for the other blog...
I have, actually, you just can't see any of it. And neither can I anymore.
Sometimes this writing thing requires a time period of purge and release I guess, not trying to get it right, just trying to get it out.
Tis happening, slowly but surely. Plus I am editing. I have an opportunity to attempt to get a piece published.
And you know... it scares the crap out of me.
Bound by ~TheGrantGirl on deviantART
How exactly DOES one get out of one's own way?
My dreams tell me to plant an indoor garden and revamp my "kitchen". Sounds about right. I shake my head at how difficult self care can be as a prospect though. And how cranky it can make a person - but Oh my Queen, Oh your belly! But that is a post for the other blog...
Monday, 9 January 2012
Well... now what do I read?
Not actually a serious question; I have lots of stuff to read :)
But I finished The Strain Trilogy and I am sad to see it go. Dang! This needs to be a tv series!! They've done it with The Walking Dead. This proves the technology exists!! I think this would make a swell series - if you accept that by swell I mean deliciously creepy and compelling - and somebody oughtta get right on that.
OK somebody.. in tv land... call Del Toro... and get on that.
But I finished The Strain Trilogy and I am sad to see it go. Dang! This needs to be a tv series!! They've done it with The Walking Dead. This proves the technology exists!! I think this would make a swell series - if you accept that by swell I mean deliciously creepy and compelling - and somebody oughtta get right on that.
OK somebody.. in tv land... call Del Toro... and get on that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)