Nice day, basic joys, spring

Just for the record, I’m having a really nice day *touch wood*.

This week, Zak’s been staying in my room, which is starting to feel like -mine- at last (even have my ‘shrine’ set up again). Although this situation can grate when I want my own space, overall it’s lovely having him to hug, however I feel a bittersweetness to it all lately because I know he will be gone again soon – and maybe even into the Army. Technically he is chasing work, this ever elusive “job around the corner”…but as usual it’s not that simple. I’m in a bit of a corner with him really because if I turn round and say “bringing in the moolah really IS what its all about, so I want you to go and get a job where you’re depressed, and then we can -both- get ground down by life, but hey! at least we can get a 50 year mortage to pass on to our children..” etc (you get the idea) then it just feels like a huge cop-out. *takes a breath* 🙂

He’s been bringing breakfast in the morning which is very nobel of him. I was supposed to do it today but was just feeling so good, warm and safe I just curled up in the quilts like a small fox-ish thing, ignoring the world for a bit and enjoying basic animal comfort. This is still an amazing bonus for me, since for most of my life I’ve been woken up to stress or to parents yelling at me to do X. One of the wonderful things about my room is it’s south facing window, through which I get a lot of morning light.

Went out for lunch, tried to make it down to the sea but got caught in traffic. Still, saw a bumble bee, kestrel, and -amazingly- a butterfly! I’m really happy to find I can still get joy from simple things, and in touch with the “inner animal” which always pulls me back into my body and the world.

I’m not sure about the lucky day thing, but for me, there is definitely something about Thursdays, in terms of my most constructive day.

Had a great time last weekend; infact it was most rejuvinating and inspiring little adventure. I’m going to write about it once I’ve got the photos uploaded.

Cat : condensed format. like the milk.

AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THAT WALL IS ONLY AS SOLID AS YOU [MAKE IT]/[SEE IT]/[WANT IT] TO BE!

(feel free to add your own levels of profoundity)

god?

tee hee..

(it will make more sense when I’ve manifested some art..maybe..)

oh yeah, and phuzzi: I was wrong, it’s not from the I-ching but it is about revolution: ..the centre cannot hold… is actually a rather nifty old poem.

…and back in the ‘real world’ I’m actually doing fine :-)

I suddenly feel the need to write about something normal, sane coherant(?), so here’s an update on where my life is at as far as the real world is concerned 😉 It’s occured to me that some of my more distant friends (*shouts to Josie in New Zealand*) might be more interested in that than the work-burblings 😉

Also I’m not actually going as crazy as it might have sounded..
ironically, I’ll put -this- one behind a cut

Burning out the sulphur

I’m learning quite a lot about petrol in this job, which strikes me as quite a bizzare twist.One thing I found out about is a method of removing sulphur from Diesel, basically you heat the fuel up and burn it all out. The aim is to reduce the harmful emmissions from cars, which I would feel more positive about if I didn’t suspect said sulphurous fumes are not just let out round the back of the refinery anyway..

Still, this is a little what it feels like in my head sometimes. If I can relax, and I mean REALLY relax, to the edge of sleep, sometimes I can feel all the worries and crazy neurosis coming to the surface and peeling away. I actually -let go- and watch them rise away like mist. Very therapeutic.

But more often than not, and especially when I’m stuck in a low-exercise low-human-contact office based job, I can’t do that. Instead I seem to get rid of the toxins by letting myself rant or burble away, shake it all up until I either explode get to some sort of point, or just mentally crumble. It usually makes me feel insane and I don’t like it happening.

It’s much better to get some exercise. When I was living out on the farms, with plenty of fresh air and movement, I didn’t get this. I almost couldn’t believe what kind of person I was out there. This gives me hope, and a desire to propell myself into an occupation away, far away from computer screens.

I would be more worried if I didn’t find it noxious being incarcerated in an office block. I’m finding ways to deal with it, mostly by seeing it all as a game. And if it doesn’t pick up, or if it gets even worse, I will leave this time. And quickly.

And everyday I wake up in my own bed, or spend time with friends in the evening, I feel a bit more relaxed.

Getting there slowly. Taking control slowly. There’s a lot of knots to untangle in here.
“Give me slack or kill me” 😉

Improvisation

That voice you hear inside your mind; the one which dictates speech and pulls thoughts into coherancy..I hate it. I hate it because I’ve let it atrophy into a useless toy; this perhaps was a deliberate move, I wanted the noise to decrease, I wanted it to die… the rampant rabid tearing worrisome noise that at times shakes me about like a terrier and leaves me shaking and confused. It didn’t work. It didn’t die. All these words and thoughts collide and collude and spin out their lies, so easily, so quickly do I wrap myself up in different packaging for each person, or situation, or moment. LIES..where is my truth gone?!

Words are weapons, and so I engorged myself on them, seeking somehow to imbue their power. But when I look to use them, all I find is a chaotic dark whirlpool spinning the half-formed memories of the thoughts of the Others..*nothing* comes to my command when I try to argue – I was useless at philosophy because I used my gut to seek a truth that in the end was internal.

Setting such out amongst the great thinkers, critics, friends; was like watching the first push of a seedling trampled by bulls.

In madness once, I saw that “I am not my mind”. I pulled myself back from the death-grip association with that complex of parental expectations and education, and loosened and freed myself enough to turn my Neurosis into my Saviour; expansion and adventure followed. Perhaps now I am too disparate, efforts at focus fail as I just drift and flow like dandelion fluff, seeking still to find a place to root.

Is the mind a tool? A tool of whom? There’s certainly a lot in here that destructs me and pushes me down, down, down into compliance or apathy whichever comes first. I’ve said all this before. But this time I’m going to stop beating myself up over it.

Stop seeing what I’m not, and try and find what I am. Feed my mind the food it craves. I don’t do well with words, except occasional moments when they flow out from somewhere deeper. I do well with images, and metaphors and the “penultimate truths” of mythology and symbols. This does not make me inferior, new-age or deluded. I’ve been fumbling with a sword when I should be using bow,spear,kryss-dagger,paintbrush,or drum.

I caught a snippet on the radio. When musicians improvise, they don’t consciously and rapidly choose the notes in advance, compose a new stanza from thin air…no: feel the mood of the music around you, and let your subconscious do the rest. I’m sick of my life being endless repitions of “twinkle twinkle little star”, gimme some JAZZ ;). And yet the road to such flowing musical expression involves years of repetitive training, squeaky notes, discordant sounds.

This is what I want to do : Train my mind, co-ordinate my body,simply to express my
vitality and mesh it with the music and dancing of life and others. I’ve fed the chaos, filled it with archetypes and stories and dreams, and now onwards, to tease from it forms and expression.

Because, for me, being alive means simply to BE, and to remove what’s blocking the flow rather than attentuate yourself into something beyond, or above, or elsewhere. Breathe in life, mingle it with the bio-psychological-social-genetic-mystical complex of ME, exhale expression of the genuine kind – to create, ponder and laugh with it all.

And when I get to the end of it and people ask me what I did with my life, I want to be able to smile and say “I improvised!” 😉

“…This journey lasts from one night of pure
emotions to a lifetime of pure confusion.
But if we are to be ourselves, we must
take the journey. What happens along
the way of your journey, is for you to
decide…” loop back, reconnect

TAIKO!

I mentioned how I need to do more of the life-affirming things, and also how I tend to forget about the good stuff that’s happened.

Well, last Saturday I had a wonderfully life-affirming evening when I went to see some Taiko Drumming in Exeter.

back story

Airing out my dirty knickers

Thanks for all your comments to my rather hastily written brain-dump on religion/spirituality last friday. Whether it’s pointing out a big hole in my reasoning, clarifying my thoughts, or adding new material, it’s all good. My brain feels rather rusty lately so I’m trying to give it some exercise 🙂 I’m going to give the whole subject another bash, and respond to your comments as well, once I’ve mulled it over properly.

confessions of a girl who can’t see her own worth