TWELVE &

Ongoing Forgiveness and finding balance

2010-03-10T11:04:00.000-08:00

The poison Spindle (unfinished illo by me)

It's easy for me to be smug about forgiveness when I am happy and all is going well and the dark corners of my soul are hidden from view. BUT what if I am the Fairy (become wicked witch) who did not get invited to the wedding?

How do I avoid planting a poisoned spindle?

That actually happened to me, many years ago. A good friend--or so I'd thought--got married. Her fiance wanted my boyfriend as his best man, but my boyfriend and I had just had a fight. They decided that to avoid tension at their wedding, they would not invite me. I was incredibly hurt. Our friendship was never the same after that. I felt unloved and rejected. I've tried and tried to forgive. I have not succeeded as well as I would prefer. We are polite and write to each other every year at Christmas, but the closeness is gone. I would like to truly forgive, to forgive deeply and be cleansed of any lingering resentments. But that is not what I reallywanted to talk about.

The current issueone is GB, my stepson. He did not show up at home tonight in time to leave for his guitar lesson. This is the boy who "doesn't consider me family," who stopped calling me "Mom," though he called me that for many years, who doesn't want me to adopt him. Orphan boy. But it's me calling to make him his last minute already late doctor appointments so he can join track and me calling all around trying to find him so he won't miss his guitar lesson. And there won't be any thank yous. Not today, and probably never.

Do I need them? I probably shouldn't need them. I should be able to rise above it all, to continue to be loving in the face of rejection--and I keep trying--but sometimes, it's hard. Very hard.

Anyone know a way to detoxify a poison spindle?

I want to do nothing dishonorable or unloving in the face of continued rejection and being taken for granted. (can those two be in the same sentence together, rejection and being taken for granted?}. IS there such a thing as ONGOING FORGIVENESS? How does one learn that skill?

The Twelve steps teach that forgiveness is important. So is not being a doormat. I do not want to be a doormat for GB, but I also don't want to be a wicked stepmother. I want to find that good balance, but I don't know where it is or how to find it.

Forgiveness, part 101

2009-09-02T06:15:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, I am not sure whether or how to forgive. I feel confused.
I ask myself:

a. Jesus (What would Jesus do?) It's been suggested that we ask this when confused about how to proceed. Jesus was not always Mr. Kindness and forgiveness. He kicked over the tables of the moneychangers. He cursed a tree that wouldn't flower for him. So how do we know when to forgive and when to start kicking? (I had Sissy acting like Jesus in my kids' book, Frog Haven!)

b. Buddha (What would Buddha do?) Imperturbability? I can only FAKE IT! I can "Act as if." I can pretend. But inside is a maelstrom. It rears its ugly head when my guard is down. How can I calm the maelstrom inside? (Prayer helps).

When forgiveness?

2009-09-01T20:17:00.001-07:00

When forgiveness?

At what point does forgiveness come into the equation when there's been an argument or misunderstanding?? Does s/he have to ASK for it, apologize? I usually just forgive him or her the best I can after a while because otherwise there is too much tension. And I feel too sad. But if there's been no apology and the bad behavior continues, is forgiveness appropriate?

More thoughts on forgiveness

2009-08-31T20:15:00.001-07:00

Notes in reponsie to my previous post (see below)(Thank you, A)

A friend just told me she thought I was very good at forgiving.

Sometimes, I think I am good at "acting"--at pretending I've forgiven--trying to make my wishes to be a forgiving person into a reality that doesn't fully exist, a sort of hyper "acting as if."

The reason I say that is because I wake up in the middle of the night obsessing about something I think I've "released." And then can't sleep.

Somethings that seem like little things--like my husband planting grass seed in my garden without asking.

I get mad at him more than anyone else. I forgive him more than anyone else. I guess that's not surprising, as we spend more time together than we do with anyone else.

But acting "as if"--as if I've forgiven him--just sort of pushes the hurt feelings deeper down where the resurface to bother me at night,

On the other hand, telling him how I feel often provokes a fight. And a long drawn out process which may include lots more to try to forgive!!

I'd like to do a better job of being human. I guess that means forgiving MYSELF for my imperfections, too!

Such Hard Work

2009-08-31T09:18:00.001-07:00

Forgiving is SUCH HARD WORK. I have to do it over and over and over and then do it yet again.

I woke up early in the wee hours of morning today, in the darkness, ANGRY yet again about something I thought I'd put behind me. Angry and then depressed. Depressed that I can't seem to let go. I'm angry about a series of relatively small things. What it it were something large? How successful would I be at forgiving?

It's easy to have a holier-than-thou attitude, for me, and think, of course I would do the right thing and be forgiving. It's so much harder to actually do it. And to continue to do it for as long as it takes to succeed. Prayer helps.

(This sunflower is a detail from a quilt made by Marie Zeller from Grosse Pointe Michigan and displayed at the Michigan State Fair. Click on the image to view it a little larger.)

Today's Fractal

2009-08-26T08:44:00.000-07:00

I have company coming and a zillion things to do, and what am I doing?
PLAYING! BAD ME!!! (Procrastinating--never do now what I can put
off til later or til forever.)

“A life spent in the hedonistic seeki...

2009-08-19T08:16:00.001-07:00

"A life spent in the hedonistic seeking of personal pleasure is not a good or honorable life and does not lead to the greatest happiness."

(Not real happiness anyway. Empty pleasure and happiness are not the same.)

My teenage son spends very little time with BB and me. When he is with us, he is somewhat surly and unwilling to listen. I came up with the idea of emailing him very short pithy statements in hopes that he will read them in case I have something important to say--important to him, like so and so called and wants a call back. By the time he's realized I'm not conveying that kind of information, maybe he will have registered my point. Or maybe not.

I despair at this point in his becoming a real person, but I guess that's common for the mothers of teenage boys. I'm told be the time they are 35 or 40, they may actually become human again, but I may not live long enough to see it.

What I emailed to him is the part in quotes. BB thinks that PB is totally incapable of applying the wisdom to himself, of seeing the connection, of understanding that I mean HIM. He, PB, the boy, wants nothing other than to hang out with his friends, drink soda, eat junk food, and follow every whim. He constantly wants us to hand over money for foolish purchases, but he is very angry if we ask him to do anything, including clean his room or rinse his dishes and put them int he dishwasher. And he walks out without saying goodbye or telling us where he's going. (Which he just did, and when a friend calls, which one just did, I have no idea what to tell them.)

Anger

2009-08-14T11:51:00.001-07:00

This is anger. It is hot and strong and dark and scary. Anger is sad
as well as mad.

This is a left-hand (non-dominant hand) drawing.

Pondering today’s discussion

2009-07-31T08:53:00.001-07:00

Pondering today's discussion, Friday, July 31, 2009

If I am driven, at least in part, by my desire to "please my father," who is dead, and if I have internalized my father as an inner father that I am still trying desperately to please, and if I somehow find healing with those inner selves so that I no longer feel driven to succeed at pleasing my inner father, will I lose the drive to create and succeed? Or will it be possible to find some "middle ground," perhaps a more balanced and pleasant one?

It frightens me to think I might lose my desire to create.

I have, perhaps, an overly active drive to be creative. I could be happy to tone it down a little and live in a more balanced way. But I don't want to LOSE it.

I have, on the one hand, a desire to be creative and a desire to succeed, BUT I also have something that stands in the way of my success—perhaps my ADHD or perhaps something deeper and more insidious. I work on projects for years and often do not complete them. I have many unfinished novels poetry manuscripts and art pieces. I write first drafts of poems, revise them once or twice, and put them aside and rarely send them out.

What I would like is to have a more balanced approach to my creativity, instead of such a driven one. I would like to work on one or two projects at a time and see them to completion and fruition and find a way to balance my "work" (writing and art etc) with family, chores, social life, pleasure, etc.

Right now, I have a tendency to neglect my chores when consumed with work.

I want to continue to work, but to do it in a more balanced and appropriate way.

I do want to heal. I feel bad inside, and have for years. I want, as the serenity prayer says, to have the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference. (Of course, really, I want to change all the bad things to good, but I do know that's not likely to happen.)

So yeah, I want to improve my relationship with my inner father. But keep my creativity transformed in a balanced and appropriate way.

Voltaire

2009-07-20T13:54:00.001-07:00

VOLTAIRE:
No snowflake in an avalanche ever feels responsible.

Many people hold onto a grudge because it offers the illusion of power
and a perverse feeling of security. But in fact, we are held hostage
by our anger. It is never too late to forgive. But you can forgive too
soon. I am especially wary of what I call "saintly forgiveness."
Premature forgiveness is common among people who avoid conflict.
They're afraid of their own anger and the anger of others. But their
forgiveness is false. Their anger goes underground. I define forgiving
as letting someone back into your heart. This returns us to a loving
state -- and not merely within the relationship -- we feel good about
ourselves and the world. True forgiveness isn't easy, but it
transforms us significantly. To forgive is to love and to feel worthy
of love. In that sense, it is always worthwhile.

Memories and Repcruussions 2

2009-07-20T10:03:00.001-07:00

Memories and Repercussions

All my faces I burned at the your door, stepped
over your threshold blank as the first piece of paper
slid from a newly opened ream. I fanned the ashes
of self into your dogwoods and lilacs, but they filtered
in through the poisoned earth to remind me who I was
before I met you. Those shadows, though immolated
in flames, still dance in dreams. Every day a new face, old
as its tortured scars, blossoms from the blank visage
I donned for our wedding. One by one, I claw
them off and they scuttle like rats under our bed
to screech and whine for my attention. They interrupt
the soft touch of your hand on the curve of my hip
during the long wakeful hours as I listen, helplessly,
to their squabbling and pronouncements. So many
of them pile around our rooms, like wadded
and rejected drafts, that I can no longer find the unblemished
self I tried to give you. For your protection. And mine.
Nor can we find each other now among the heaps of drooling
faces, the raging masks that bury and drown us both.

Mary Stebbins Taitt
For K
090720-1254-2, 090720 1st

love first

2009-07-20T06:49:00.001-07:00

In The Scarlet Letter, Hawthorne says: "It is to the credit of human nature, that, except where its selfishness is brought into play, it loves more readily than it hates."

I love this quote and I think it's true that our first instinct is to love and be close, and only when circumstances push us away do we lose this.

Hawthorne goes on to say, "Hatred, by a gradual and quiet process, will even be transformed to love, unless the change be impeded by a continually new irritation of the original feeling of hostility." I think the same can be said of forgiveness--that is, time and innate love can transform lack of forgiveness to forgiveness. We can speed the process by choice and intention.

Separating forgiveness from condoning ...

2009-07-18T09:57:00.001-07:00

Letting Out the Old Anger, by Mary Stebbins Taitt

Separating forgiveness from condoning the act

This is from a discussion I had with another blogger and I thought I'd share it here.

She said, "I cannot separate forgiveness and condoning the act that needs to be forgiven."

I said:

I think separating forgiveness from condoning the act is a crucial thought and act.

You can learn to forgive WITHOUT condoning the act that was wrong.

People are human and everyone, including you, makes mistakes, does bad things--right? I sure know I do.

We HAVE to be forgiven because we are all imperfect and we get tired and grumpy and all sort of things cause us to to do wrong.

Try saying to YOURSELF (at first) and then maybe to some safe other person, I forgive YOU even though what you did was wrong and hurtful. I do not erase the wrong, I do not forget the wrong, but choose to forgive, even if I have to do it over and over again, I will forgive you.

Whether or not ALL acts should be forgiven is a question. I think probably they should, but boy oh boy, some are pretty heinous. Start with easy things, maybe.

My first husband beat me--very badly, more than once, and was abusive in other ways. He called me up years later and asked me to forgive him. I told him I wasn't sure I could. Later, I told him I would. I wasn't really sure I could, but I said I would, though I might have to keep trying.

I am crying now as I write this, because the pain is still there. But I do think I have finally succeeded in forgiving him. It was a long row to hoe. Speaking forgiveness inside and then aloud is a first step.

I get angry easily, probably too easily, and forgiving is hard. I think it's important. It may take me several days to forgive my husband when he has done something annoying or worse.

However, having said that, I will also say this: if someone hurts me ABUSIVELY, I need to find a safe refuge and keep myself safe. Forgiving does not mean allowing someone to continue to hurt you.

It's hard to know, sometimes, where to draw the line. There are people who can help with this if you need it.

I am not complaining but . . . I am ...

2009-07-02T11:44:00.001-07:00

I am not complaining but . . . I am feeling WELL and I don't know why

The past two days were fraught with stress and worry and lots of bad food. I ate everything I'm allergic too: chocolate, peanuts, dairy etc. I also ate snacks, fried food, drank some coke! I expected to be up all night last night and to feel absolutely terrible today. These expectations are a result of years of experience--I usually don't sleep and feel terrible after eating bad food and being stressed.

I am very grateful that in fact I not only (so far, knock on wood) slept very very well (for me), but also feel actually better than normal.

So, of course, now I want to know WHY so that I can hopefully continue to feel well. Or return to feeling well if I slip away.

So what is different? Well, I don't know.

Remember how I slept outside in a tent most of one winter because I suspected inside air of causing me problems? Because the air conditioner isn't running, we have fan in the bedroom bringing in outside air and one in the bathroom pulling it through. Could fresh outside air have a positive influence?

I can't even THINK of what else might be different.

Could it be being rescued by prince charming from all the horrors of a dead car in a distant place? I dunno.

erasing

2009-06-26T08:02:00.001-07:00

old age and treachery! (Abuse etc)

Freewrite for Poetry 090512

2009-05-12T09:46:00.001-07:00

Vertigo and Freewrite for Poetry 090512

I have just had an hour-long episode of vertigo that has left me feeling nauseous, dizzy and worried. I made a note of it for my doctor, who I happen to be going to on Friday, Muna Beeai. She's my GP. My neurologist thinks it could be silent migraines. I am afraid to do my normal morning exercises, because I am feeling dizzy and I am worried the vertigo will start up again--it came in two batches this morning, first lasting only 2-3 minutes, and then when I thought it was over, I moved and it started up again. So now, of course, Ia m afraid to move.

Oh-oh, appears my fears were well-founded--I just moved and it DID start up again, with a vengeance. 8:40 start. Room spinning bad. I keeled over to the left. Hit my head, not hard. Curled in a ball on the floor waiting for it to subside. Burst into a terrible sweat. Managed to crawl--literally--over to the computer and get into my chair. It seems to be subsiding again. 8:50 on Leo's clock, seems to have mostly stopped--ten more minutes of vertigo--but I think it is still with me and will return if I move.

OK, so let me start this freewrite again. I'm feeling dizzy, nauseous, worried, frightened. The room is spinning--OK--not spinning, holding relatively still now. But I'm afraid it will spin again. There is an odd dull feeling on my left side. That is, the left side of my head--I think it is starting to hurt. I had a lot to do today, and I am bummed about that as well, but also worried about what causes these spells of vertigo. Dr. Moudgil says it could be migraines, but it was also suggested that it might be a smalls stroke or a seizure. It's very scary, especially when I fall suddenly. That fall was very reminiscent of the time in Hamilton, Ontario where I suddenly lurches to the left and bumped into the wall of the hall. Nothing more happened then, but I did the same thing just now--lurched suddenly to the left.

The sun is shining brightly and I would like to go outside. I need to feed the squirrel, rocky, the wild birds and clean Rocky's cage and Eager's cage and make breakfast and shower and dress and get going on my tasks for the day. BUT I am afraid to move.

I can think of nothing unusual that I ate yesterday, only things I've been eating fairly regularly: steel cut oats, brain, rice milk, pork, calamari, shrimp, scallops, mushrooms, broccoli, yellow squash. I feel pretty sick. I can't do this, I have to go lie down.

10:00 I've had two more incidents of vertigo and still feel sick. 9:11-9:14, 9:40-9:55 accompanied by sweating and nausea. Fairly bad vertigo and nausea--probably not four incidents, but one long one, not over yet. It's been THREE HOURS NOW--I feel like it's wasting my whole day on the one hand and on the other hand, am quite scared. Worried about what it is and means. I got up out of bed because I have to pee and get a drink. I also need to feed the squirrel, but that involves bending over, which tends to exacerbate the problem.

More than 3 hours of vertigo, during which time I was unable to accomplish anything and spent most of the time in bed. Finally got up, made breakfast, sat out in the yard next to the shadow of the silver maple in the neighbor's yard--that is, I was in our yard, but the maples is on theirs. I had a weird experience where a shadow appeared on my hand that did not seem to come from the tree.

Vertigo Shadows

At the edge of a shadow cast by the neighbor's oak,
sun shines on my face, a breeze rustles my hair
and the shadow of the oak shifts and wriggles, restless
and hungry, withdrawing and then approaching
my bare toes, over and over while the whole dancing
shadow with it's patches of sun slides slowly closer.
Shadows of leaves, shadows of branches, shadows
of baby acorns nestled among the leaves. Shadows
of robins passing each other with worms and insects,
shadows of their babies opening wide their mouths.
A touch of cold startles me. I look down to see darkness
on my hands, isolated and with no visible source
from the tree. The deep, cloudless sky throws no shadows,
but the shadow on my wrist expands toward my heart.
Compelled to drink from that well of night. I bend toward
my hands. A black wave engulfs me. The earth tilts, the sky
spins and the tree lurches. I smell bruised grass, damp soil.
Feel tiny pebbles mashed into my cheek. Sweating
and cold, I watch the jonquils and tulips leap jaggedly
in the garden. Jump and twist spasmodically. On my knees,
my body curls in Bala-asana, the child pose, and I close
my eyes to still the jumping. The darkness
behind my eyes turns and jerks raggedly. I breathe
slowly. Feel a passing chill, another shadow.
I open my eyes to see a vulture circling, its shadow
passing over me again and again.

Mary Stebbins Taitt
090512-1229-1st

NOTE: This did NOT happen as written, but is a combination of the earlier experience of vertigo with the later experience of the shifting shadows and the mysterious one on my hand.

Making it on my Own (Word Trails)

2009-04-17T20:08:00.001-07:00

Making it on my Own (Word Trails)

Writing as I walk, I follow word trails through a forest of thought,
each word linked mutably to a host of images and memories.
An Icabod Crane tree hangs over the path: twisted. The word twisted
links to broken, broken to shattered, shattered to glass
and to my heart, that old saw, that cliché that still feels so rich and real
to me, so true, in spite of centuries of overuse. It's difficult
to be a poet when you love clichés. My glass heart shatters from anger,
from a hand or fist or knife, smashed against a face, face links to fly,
fly escape bird wing fast fancy fallow Farrow Darcy.
I liked that name, Darcy. But I could not name
a daughter Darcy because of Darcy Farrow, though any name
must link to some tragedy or other. A good name ruined.
Alicia was another. I'd chosen it as a possibility until Robert Garrow
raped and killed Alicia Houk and abandoned her body along the trail,
the trail I walked to school each day. A beautiful girl left all winter
under the snow, no a trail of words, but a trail of horror. Strange
what we remember and what we forget. A trail of memories.
Reading old letters, I discover that I wrote my parents daily, twice
daily, often, after I left home. Such an outpouring of confusion,
a plethora of words, forbidden words, like fire hunger beg drugs,
like robbed, beaten, kicked, evicted, like plethora, a word my teacher
says not to use in poetry. Much of what I wrote my parents
I forgot, but occasionally, a favorite story surfaces, suddenly revisited,
shiny in the moment of it's recording, fresh with excitement
and pain or matter-of-factly written as commonplace,
two of us cramming into the turnstile together because we only
had one subway token between us. The half-rotted fruit
we pulled from the dumpster behind the grocers, devoured, grateful
for any sustenance. Sitting on the fire escape to get even the slightest
hint of breeze. "Don't send money," I wrote repeatedly
to my parents, "if I can't make it on my own, I'll come home."
Unlike Darcy Farrow, unlike Alicia Houk, I made it home eventually.
Boyfriend lover husband anger fist hit bleed abuse. Finally, escape.
Twisted, broken, shattered, home. I made it home,
if that breathing but mangled girl ringing my parents' doorbell
was still me.

Mary Stebbins Taitt
090417-2124-1c; 090417-1641-1st (complete) draft

word image from Wordle, adjusted by me.

No Help for the Snake Bite (Rattlesna...

2009-04-17T03:56:00.001-07:00

No Help for the Snake Bite (Rattlesnake dream/nightmare)

I am out in the distant "bush" on a work-related task when I encounter a snake. The snake comes after me, chases, attacks and bites me in the finger in spite of my efforts to elude it. I am in thick underbrush and cannot run. The snake is small, brown, and thin and does not look like a rattle snake (they are usually thicker, huskier). It is wrapped tightly around my finger and won't let go, and its tail is hidden in its coils. I try to remove the snake, but it is locked onto my finger. I manage to press the coils aside and I find the tail which has 3-4 rattles on it; clearly its a rattle snake and poisonous. I struggle and struggle and finally get it off and it tries to attack again, repeatedly. I am encumbered by the brush and thicket which I can barely press through let alone run. I escape the snake and realize of course that I must go for help (and abandon my work). After I press through more brush, I have to swim across a large body of water. It is choppy and dark. The sky is very "black" with threatened rain and I fear lightning. I am, however, proud of my ability to swim through all this. At first I swim hard, but then realize that the excess flailing with circulate the poison so I swim more gently.

I have now arrived back at work which is a school/museum. Many of my work friends and coworkers are there in a meeting and I tell them I've been bitten by a rattlesnake. They are joking around and telling me unrelated things having to do with work and with their personal lives. No one is listening or hearing me, that I have been poisoned and need help. I make a loud announcement to the whole group, which embarrasses me, but they still don't listen. I ask the security guard for help--but he also does not help, he is busy with his own problems. I call 911 and get the police station and the person who answers the phone cannot give me directions to get there. I am thinking I need to get to the hospital. I keep saying; it's been over an hour, I need to get to the hospital, but no one is helping me. Because the snake was small, I think it may not kill me, but it still could, some snakes are more toxic than others and I don't know what kind of snake this is/was. I wake up in a panicked dither.

Things I am saying in the first narration of the dream:

I am being poisoned
I am being attacked
No one is listening to me or hearing what I am saying
No one seems able to help me
I am encumbered and held back by multiple barriers to getting help/healing (underbrush, water crossing, bad weather, lack of assistance, stupidity/ignorance, distractions)
I am in danger

Since all the characters in the dream are parts of myself (as well as other people in my life who aren't helping, doctors etc), I need to look at how I am holding myself back from healing. And why. And how I can change this pattern.

My chapbook, In the Circus of my Sanity, was sitting on the dining-room table at PB's place and I moved it over to the other side of the table. BB must have been looking at it, reading it. It shows a picture of "me" wrapped up by snakes. This image, fresh in my mind from yesterday, could have influenced/"caused" this dream.

Possible extended meanings:

Since snakes can represent penises and sexuality, perhaps I am being "poisoned by my sexual experiences," e.g.: rape etc.

Snakes can also mean:

transformation and healing
possible betrayal or loss of money
someone liking/being attracted to you.
hidden fears and worries
phallic temptation, dangerous and forbidden sexuality (as mentioned above)
a person around you who is callous, ruthless, and can't be trusted
knowledge and wisdom
Goddess Worship/the old religion
doorways or journeying/knowledge/wisdom healing/shamanism
my own masculine energy--the ability to take action in the world
a poisonous or toxic situation in my life (if it's a poisonous snake)
and of course, they can mean other things as well, as personal symbols. A controlling person, a parent etc.

I have always liked snakes in waking life and am not normally afraid of them, but most of the snakes I've encountered have not been poisonous. I did get very close to and photograph a Massasagua rattler, but it looked nothing like the snake in my dream. They are very placid snakes and do not attack (most snakes do not attack unless cornered.

The dream could also be a warning about the dangers of therapy and getting into toxic or poisonous areas of my life/mind.

I have snake dreams fairly often. One I had recently took place in the water (subconscious?)

Of course, the snake, too, represents a poisonous part of myself--and I can be toxic to others as well as myself. I keep returning to snakes, like I do to eggs.

White Duck on a Green Pond

2009-04-16T08:01:00.001-07:00

White Duck in a Green Pool

The Clinton River makes an acute turn, chews
up the banks and topples trees whose roots hang fibrous
and ungrounded into the green water. Mallards, quacking
and grunting, slide along the current like pucks
in an air hockey game, smooth on the wrinkled green surface,
interrupting the reflection of willows and phragmites
with their shiny blue and green heads. When the river cuts
back far enough, it will rejoin itself, abandoning
this U-shaped oxbow to stagnate like an old appendix.
Already, the trail caves into the river and disappears,
almost impassable between the plunge to water
and the thicket of brambles. Already,
old oxbows ring islands of trashy willows and weeds
where Canada geese nest, the males hissing,
trailing intruders, attacking with wing blows,
with the heavy thump of breastbone against neck and shoulder.
No one in this dismal place is jubilant, but the white ducks,
resting on the sandbar opposite the bend of the river preen
their spotless feathers with bright orange smiles.

Mary Stebbins Taitt
090416-1025-2a, 090413-1730-1b

Okay, something a little more cheerful.

Flash in the Pan

2009-04-16T07:11:00.000-07:00

For the NaPoWriMo Challenge #8, for the "Old Flames prompt," for national poetry month at ReadWritePoem:

Flash in the Pan

Barbara screamed, pointed at me, and everyone turned to look.

She screamed and screamed, pointed and flailed. Her face turned

scarlet. The thirty children who had gathered around me gaped at her,

all of us standing as still as if we were staring at Medusa, until my boss

found someone else to teach them and secreted me away with Barbara.

I shrank. Disappeared into a knot of thorns that tightened around me.

In the news, only that morning, a crazed wife had killed her husband

and his lover. But in private, Barbara's maniacal frenzy abated;

she spoke quietly. Fingers released their threatened hold on my neck

and I took a breath and another.

I still wanted her to disappear and take Gordon with her. Forever.

Before our first kiss, I'd asked him: "Are you married,

are you engaged, are you in a relationship?"

"No, no, no," he said, and he lied. I believed him. He wore no ring.

I tend to trust. I'd welcomed him

into my home, my heart and then my bed. But they were engaged,

and then they married. After he lied,

after he cheated, they married. He probably blamed it on me.

If I were her, I'd have been as angry, but never

would have married Gordon. She told me, in tears:

he'd cheated before. Said he saw other woman

when he was with me, too, Cheated us both.

Cheat once, cheat again. I so would not have married

Gordon that he was the first step toward a vow of celibacy

One year, then another and then a third. And on to ten. Barbara married

a cheat. I married silence, peace and a spacious

empty bed.

Mary Stebbins Taitt

090415-2212-3b; 090414-1115-2b; 090413-2252-1d; 090313-1602-1st

This poem has long lines which don't translate well into blog format.

I've started seeing a therapist; can't remember if I mentioned that, because I was hoping it would improve my insomnia. I'm dredging up all kinds of bad old experiences. I think I was a MAGNET for bad people.

The Fallen Moon

2009-04-08T08:35:00.001-07:00

The Fallen Moon, by Mary Stebbins Taitt. This is from a dream the
other night--actually from two dreams in early morning. The white fox
in the trees and the fallen moon were juxtaposed dreams, one after the
other.

No Escape

2009-04-07T17:47:00.001-07:00

No Escape, by Mary Stebbins Taitt. Abuse is hell. I started seeing a therapist. We were talking about my earlier life.

Fritzy and the Fish Tank

2009-04-07T10:05:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I've posted anything. I've been through a lot lately, medical tests, my brother, etc. My dad has flown in from Australia, and is staying with me for probably the next 3 to 6 months. I refused to get involved when my brother's pastor called several weeks ago to say that my brother was out of control and scaring some of the women in his congregation. Normally, I would have driven him downtown to the county psych hospital, and told him to check himself in and get back on his meds, or find another way home. In the past, I was always able to talk him into it. I didn't have the time or energy this time. I had to work. My other brother was mad because I wouldn't help. He used the excuse of having a client on the other line, like his job was more important than mine. He and my sister have come to expect me to just take care of these things. Now, because I didn't, my dad has come to try and straighten things out. I believe this has turned out for the best, because my dad is getting a dose now of what I've been through for the last 20 years, and had no idea that my brother could get this bad. It's been eye opening and heart wrenching for him, but having him with me 24-7 has been exhausting and painful for me.

I've been telling him exactly how I feel in the most diplomatic way I can think of, but I can see it's hard for him to take. After some of the awful things my brother has done, no one in this family expects me to live with him and take care of him anymore, and that's a relief to me, but as I've pointed out to him, I had to get physically ill, before anyone would step in and help. And, they're all irritated by the inconvenience of this whole thing. My sister still thinks that I'm just being lazy and need to see a psychiatrist, and convinced my dad to make an appointment yesterday [without asking me what I thought].

In the midst of all of this, I had this dream. It's about a dog I had and loved dearly as a child, Fritzy.

- Fritzy is old and dying. I accidentally sit on his head. I put him in the fish tank to help him recover, and then forget he's there. The next morning when I remember, I panic thinking he might be dead, but when I call him, he swims to the top and I lift him out. There's another little brown dog in the tank with him. I reach in to pull him out, too, but he swims under a rock, frightened. Then, I wonder how they were able to breath under water. That's when I wake up. -

In the past, I've found that dogs in my dreams usually represent my "pet projects" or therapy. Fish tanks are usually my responsibilities, and are usually neglected. I don't really get this dream, though. I asked for clarifying dreams, and lately the only ones I can remember are about moving furniture, which usually represents my baggage. I'm sure it's connected with my having to talk about the past with my dad, but it seems like I'm missing some of the meaning. Oh yeah, my dad's a heavy drinker, and it's been difficult lately for me to say no to alcohol, although I've not had more than one or two.

Report on Biopsy Procedure

2009-04-06T11:51:00.001-07:00

Report on Biopsy Procedure

I am back from my biopsy. I am feeling light-headed (slightly) and a little out of it. Not exactly well, but nothing bad I can put my finger on. A slight pressure in my head, tiredness.

Here's what happened:

I went to the ultrasound desk at Beaumont hospital, checked in. The receptionist had my name and put a wrist band on. I hadn't had a wristband for the mammograms or ultrasounds, so immediately I knew this would be a little more invasive." (Of course, I already knew that, e en though it's my first in situo biopsy.) I waited past my appointment time and was just starting to antsy (15-20 minutes later) when a woman called my name. She was Nancy, the person to whom I'd spoken in the phone, the one who had made the arrangements. She took me to the ultrasound room--looked like the same room where I'd had my previous ultrasound and had me strip down and put on a gown with the opening in the front and sit on the ultrasound bed while she checked my wrist band and ask me questions--the SAME questions she'd asked on the phone and I already answered--while she filled out forms. She asked my name, date of birth, why I was there. Checked my wristband.

Then another lady came in. These were NOT the same women who gave me my previous ultrasounds. (So maybe it was a different room?) Nancy is blond and tall and middle-aged (younger than me, maybe 50?) and the second woman had an accent. At first it was very noticeable, but after a little while, I didn't notice it at all any more. She asked my name, date of birth, and why I was there and checked my wrist band, She was short and dressed in dark blue scrubs--the first one, Nancy was in pale blue scrubs. L2 was the ultrasound lady and she looked with the ultrasound for the lump they were going to biopsy. They had the images from last time on the light box and I had looked at them to see what lump looked like (I'd been studying lumps on-line to see what I could learn about them). I had wanted to take a picture of the lump with the little camera I'd had in my pocket, but by the time I got dressed, I'd forgotten and just wanted to go home. DARN!

After she found the lump--and I could see it on the screen--she went out looking for the doctor, who came in and identified himself. Meanwhile, Nancy had hooked me up to a blood-pressure monitor and heartbeat monitor. My blood pressure was really good (even though I was a little nervous--eek)--and my pulse was also really good.

The doctor, who was Italian and must have thought I was, too, because he kept talking to me in Italian--(and I am but I was too nervous to even pretend I understood--although I did understand a little, scrubbed my breast with turquoise stuff--antiseptic and then told me to turn my head to the side and he sprayed me with numbing pray which did not smell very good--kind of what one might expect. He asked me my name, date of birth, why I was here. And checked my wristband. Then he said, "bee sting." and explained that he was going to give me shot to numb the breast tissue. He actually gave me several. I could feel it--it was milder than a bee stig--it hurt, but less than a shot normally does--like a little prick as opposed to a big one.

Then he got out the biopsy device. It looks a bit like a large needle, only much more complex. It has a gun-like trigger and parts--metal tubes--that fit inside the needle-like part. I was feeling slightly queasy and fearful--I was afraid it would really hurt--the thing was HUGE--literally like 10-12 inches long! EEK! It was a scary-looking tool. I could see him inserting it on the monitor--and I could feel a sense of pressure and a hint of pain and also something deeper--like pain I couldn't feel--don't know how to explain it--it didn't really hurt. It hurt a little, but very little, less than my normal fibromyalgia pain. But it was still upsetting--dunno how to explain it--I remained very calm externally, but inside I was getting a little dissociated. After he'd gone in 3-4 times with this device, he said, "almost done." Then went in twice more. Each time, I expected it to start hurting worse, in part because of my previous bad experience with anesthesia. Usually, they don't give me enough and then proceed to hurt me. But in this case, there was never any real conscious pain, just that sense of pain I couldn't feel that was making me queasy. Also the sight of that gian needle entering my breast on the monitor--pushing its way through the tissue--I could see the tissue giving and tearing a little as the needle went through it.

When he said he was done, I asked if I could see the samples and he handed me test tube with little bits of my body in it, swirling around--because he kept shaking it--like little eels or snakes. They were maybe a 16th of an inch wide and half an inch long and curly. I hope he got some of the right part. Some of the lump.

I'm still feeling slightly out of it, slightly headachey, slightly queasy. And tired. I just want to lie down. I have an ice pack Ia m supposed to keep on my breast ten minutes on and ten off, and I am supposed to wear a bra to bed and do no heavy lifting etc.

I am sure I'll be fine soon. It really wasn't that big a deal.

Now I have to wait 3-7 days for the results of the biopsy.

A Can of Worms

2009-04-04T10:28:00.001-07:00

A Can of Worms

"Isn't sex over-rated?" a long ago husband
writes to ask. "Except, of course," he adds,
"what we shared in the sixties." Enter
Hieronymus Bosch with his can of worms.
Twisted trees shoot up around me and fill
with monkeys; the ones riding my back chatter
and screech. A fountain of acid erupts from the earth;
grass sprouts tongues and the edges of flaming
dragon's teeth scorch my inner thighs.
I remember honey bright kisses,

fists and bruises, languid touches
but mostly terror, long alleyways, hiding
under bushes and inside trashcans full
of maggots. Always, he found me, dragged me
out by the hair and hit me, painted me
into canvases with leering eternity signs
between waves of fire and mustard.
Always grinning. He dressed me and stood
me by the highway, thumb out (or in my mouth),
while he hid in the bushes, waiting for a ride.

He forbid my descent into undersea canyons,
beam probing the coelacanths, if my mermaid
laughter wasn't on his schedule of simultaneity,
tantric song and knives balanced on his nipples.
Malevolent demon bats, keepers of eternal darkness,
fluttered around us, roosted in the shadows
and threatened to engulf us. We argued
about who had called them. He insisted I did,
and of course, I did.

Now, when I dive through the skin-nets of their wings,
they dissolve in veils, and I am home in the lychnis,
catchfly and moonflower. I sit among garter snakes
and mother stones, sun soft on my face. No
longer do I fall endlessly into darkness, as I did
in his arms. I walk down a different path. No
man lives beside me, no sex shatters me. No
landmines, no torn talons, only a vow of chastity,
cardinal babies and their red-beaked parents
in the sweet syringe, and black raspberries,
with their small thorns, ripening outside my door.

Mary Stebbins Taitt
090404-1219-3a, 990705-2f, 990621-1st, originally called "Underrated" L
from the Desire 6 Ms

This is an extensive revision of a poem I wrote in 1999.

Dream Poem "Backwards"

2009-04-03T06:57:00.001-07:00

This poem is from a dream I had last week. I had considered making a poem of it and didn't attempt it because it seemed too hard, but it continued to worry me, so I attempted it and here it is (danger, upsetting images!):

Backwards

Round, puckered and striated like a nipple, the fossil

hides among rocks on the mountain top. I stroke it,

feeling the bumps and indentations in grey rock.

Limestone, perhaps. Below, sky stretches, endless,

fading toward white. It shimmers like the sea. I call you

to see this ancient stone creature, knowing

how you like breasts, the soft roundness of them,

the responsiveness of nipples. Not rock ones,

of course, but still, "come check it out."

But you frown and step back, refuse to touch it,

and when I look back, I see, not a fossil,

but a dead girl, naked, lying deep in the rocks,

disintegrating. An arm here, a leg there,

features half rotted from her skull, the nipple

just showing in shadow on the twisted torso

deep between the summit's rocks.

Boulders shift and ocean now surrounds us.

We're on a breakwater, but no waves strike

the rocks. The water is still, calm and blue as a summer sky.

We stare at the dead girl. She's become intact and fully clad,

her clothes pressed and clean. Her cheeks blush

with color, brightening. She lies on top of the rocks,

no longer lost between them, and I'd swear I see her

breathing. She's flung across a slanted rock

as if dropped there by great bird, head downward, legs up,

long brown hair draped down the rock toward the water,

facing the endless blue above. We're on an island,

a shrinking island, no land in sight, only the glassy water,

the unmarred sky. I'm surprised when I realize

she looks a lot like me, at maybe nineteen.

Her eyelids flutter, and I awaken, in another century,

in a distant place, alive, and much much older. Tears

dribble down my cheeks.

Mary Stebbins Taitt

090403-0930-2a, 090402-1757-1c, 090402, 1st 4:15 PM; from a dream last week

Press here to make me cry (Impossible tasks)

2009-02-11T09:16:00.001-08:00

I've been crying a lot this morning.

I just heard that someone I loved died.

Ruth Grenoble.

She was 88 and lived a long wonderful life, but I am still bereaved.
I wish she could have been with us even longer, healthy and happy.

I cried because I got a letter from another elderly friend, the one
who sent the clipping about Ruth's death. A nice letter.

I cried becase it is raining--HARD. And raining. And raining. And
wet and grey.

And I cried becase oif the impossible tasks--I seem to have a number of them.

One is the address change business for my numerous small stocks. Each
held somewhere where it is impossible to get someone on the phone or
get their website to work. They are threatening to take my stoocks
away becase of "abandonment!" And they won't leet me change my
address--it's been what 3-4 years and I've been trying and trying.
Calling and talking to customer service people who say they can't take
address changes on the phone as they have no way to verify I'm truly
who I say I am.

None of these stocks are wrth much, but they are mine. It's the
principle of the thing!

I was literally stewing about it when the mail came and ONE of the
stock companies, BNY Mellon, finally changed my address and sent me a
check for $23 from all the dividends I haven't received due to the
address change hassles. I know, not a lot of money, but hey! I'm
unemployed and every little bit helps!

I cried--in relief. I know, I know, I was crying earlier in
frustration becase it's literally been years.

And no, I am NOT having my period--I'm 62 years old and don't have
periods any more.

The stock thing is not over, there is more to go. The multiple others.

And then there is the house inspection thing. We need to get this
house in spected, the Rolandale House. But I called and called and
called and called and let the phone ring five minutes, ten minutes,
etc--no answer. Over and over. I was just settling down for another
long wait when someone picked up the phone and kindly andswered my
questions. When I hung up, I cried and dcried. It's not over yet.
It's only one of a long series of hurdles.

Why do things seem to be getting harder and harder?

I guess, in part, because I don't sleep at night. I'm tired and it
makes everythings seem harder and more stressful.

But bureacracies do seem to be much worse--it's so much harder to get
to talk to a real person. And the recordings and choices and menus
NEVER solve my problems! WHY?

And do I get a piece of chocolate or a glass of wine to soothe my
shattered nerves? NO! I can't.

But hey, I wrote two new poems last night and this morning. :-) :-D

learning about ourselves and shadows

2009-01-27T10:43:00.000-08:00

Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.

--Carl Jung

When you notice something about someone else that evokes a negative emotion in your field of conscious awareness to some degree, they are reflecting something in you that is similar, these are your shadow beliefs about yourself. Often, it's enough to acknowledge that characteristic and accept that it's part of us, but it is not who we are. But the first thing that usually pops up is the Ego with a case of denial. No, I don't talk that loudly... wear that much make-up... am not that rude... would never treat a friend like that ... am much more considerate... don't ever make mistakes like that... never behave that way in public. It's the I'm OK, you're not OK defense. Instead, we could accelerate our personal growth by exploring those parts of our selves that we notice in others and making conscious choices about whether we want to keep our behavior or change it. This is how we develop our strengths.

If we decide to keep it, we then have to learn to let go of our need to keep it or it can work against us. If you notice another person who always has to be right or have the last word, and you find it annoying, begin to observe your self in different situations to become aware of when you are like that. Think about how it serves you. If you're a trial lawyer that might be a good characteristic and you might decide to keep it, but if you're a tennis player, it might be to your disadvantage not to change. When you become aware that you do the thing or are like that sometimes, to some degree, you can determine whether it's appropriate or not appropriate by the reactions you evoke in others. Then you can accept that it is part of you, but it is not all that you are. Something that's part of you is always part of you, but you have the ability to intensify it or extinguish it. You can still want to express your opinion, but let go of your need to be right. You can still demand to be heard, but if you continue to expect others to believe you or do what you say, then you haven't let go of your attachment to being in control, having it your way.

The mirroring technique is a method to increase self-awareness which involves paying attention of your physical and emotional reactions during encounters with others. If you feel comfortable with someone, you are mirroring positive parts of your self (e.g. good conversationalist, pleasant smile, confidence). If you feel anger or don't like the person right away or get a bad feeling about the person, they are reflecting something in you that you feel uncomfortable about— but would probably deny if confronted with that information. You may choose to put up a wall to avoid seeing yourself in the mirror. The stronger your denial, however, the more likely it is true about you. When you know everything about your self, good and bad, and can still accept your self, you'll find yourself becoming more accepting of other people's eccentricities and less annoyed with the world, in general.

The following exercise will help you learn to use mirroring to learn about your self. It is suggested you pay attention first to negative feelings because we learn the most about ourselves from these. They are our greatest teachers. When you become good at processing this information, don't beat yourself up too badly, you can use the same technique to look at the positive things about yourself to reconstruct your self-image.

I copied this from here, go here to read more.

The quote from Aurora got me thinking.

a good reminder

2009-01-27T10:37:00.001-08:00

"Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves."

-----Carl Jung

sent to me by Aurora Fox

When I am really crabby, EVERYTHING irritates me! :-(

Gratitude Today

2009-01-27T07:26:00.000-08:00

I am grateful because:

I have lost a little weight
my fibromyalgia pain is present but not too bad
I went through my novel, Frog Haven, end to end, and feel as if it is getting nearly ready to send out again.
The sun is shining.
My son, who is home sick, is currently asleep.
there is nice music playing on the radio that I like.
I am about to go make myself a nice breakfast and I expect to enjoy it.
I have you to talk to and friendship is good. :-D

Spring, Discovered!

2009-01-27T07:19:00.000-08:00

Here is an art piece to go with one of my new dreams.

In the dream, the triplets were juts a little older than this. I am wondering why I am dreaming of Jewish triplets. Supposedly, things coming in threes either mean good luck or PAY ATTENTION.

Perhaps I miss my friend Jacob who I've known since he was a boy? I really have no idea. Tu b'shavat? How am I or some part of me like a Jewish boy?

Two Dreams in January

2009-01-27T05:20:00.001-08:00

Spring Discovered

We are on a road trip driving through a countryside that is brown and dead looking. Suddenly, I spot a bush that has a few flowers and then one with even more and one fully flowered--perhaps a shadbush. I want to stop and take pictures of the flowers, and there are humming birds in them, lots. A Jewish man with a yamakah and three sons, also wearing Yamakahs (triplets) are with us. Everyone is jamming in around the shadbush to try and get pictures of the hummingbirds (who do not seem to be afraid of us at all and are flittering close to our faces and cameras) when the boys discover a robin's nest with four nearly fledged baby robins. They are holding them, very carefully, but after a while I am nervous and want them to put them back in the nest. I want the babies to be safe and the mother to return to them. At one point, I want to photograph the three boys, each holding a baby robin and sitting close tilting toward each other in a very attractive way (more by accident than design). There is one small grey-brown unhatched egg. I notice it is not blue and wonder if it is rotten or if the egg of a parasitic nester (eg: brown-headed cowbird).

I think this is a wishful thinking dream, as it is very cold and wintry here. I am eagerly awaiting warmth and flowers, birds, etc. I love taking pictures but don't like elbowing my way between other photographers to do so. I am sometimes torn between taking pictures and protecting flowers or birds. The egg could be "rotten" because spring is not about to hatch here any time soon! I am also the three boys wanting to hold the baby robins, wanting to be very careful with them. I hope there is not some rotten egg in my life about to hatch into something dreadful--like death, disease, loss etc. The hummingbirds are a symbol of life and energy and JOY! (I could use a little joy, I've been kind of depressed for quite some time.)

This was a very realistic dream and I suppose it could happen. But I do not know a Jewish man with three identical triplet boys and can't imagine why I'd be driving through the countryside with them.

Unprepared for and Bad Memory of Richard and Mimi Farina

A Bar hired me to sing Richard and Mimi Farina songs, but I was unable to properly prepare and have forgotten many of the words and even the songs and song titles. I am botching it up badly, starting songs and unable to finish them, substituting songs by other artists like Peter Paul and Mary. At some point the bar is entirely empty and I am singing on alone becase I am getting paid to do so but feeling like a complete loser.

This is probably a stress/worry dream.

I worry a lot about being unprepared when I have to do a presentation--in my job, for years, this was a daily concern, but it goes back even farther, to school and homework etc. And I have two classes and all my manuscripts to prepare.
I worry a lot about my failing memory.

on the other hand, Richard and Mimi Farina were a LONG LONG time ago, and to expect myself to remember them well without having prepared is absurd.

I am very unlikely to ever be hired to sing at a bar--I'm not that good a singer. And if I were, it seems unlikely that I would be expected to continue singing to a totally empty bar! I say this because one of the things it's good to ask about a dream is this: could this happen? Meaning, could it be a premonition? It could happen, but it is pretty unlikely.

I'm in a rage but--deep breath---ha ha ha ha!

2009-01-16T11:11:00.001-08:00

Grrrr! I wish I had had a camera. PB called at 1:30 and said he needed his choir clothes. HELLO? I'd driven him to school because he said he needed his choir clothes and he took the Louis bag full of clothes--I could see the hangers.

Oops, wrong clothes.

"My CHOIR clothes," says, exasperated, as if I have all the details of his choir clothes memorized. I go upstairs, after telling him he's interrupting me.

"Name them," I say, grabbing the vest. The one with the sequins.

"The vest, the red one."

"Got it."

"The tuxedo vest."

Huh? We go through a bunch of shenanigans until I find the right thing.

"The white shirt."

"The tuxedo of course."

"Oh. Of course. (The one with the tails!) Got it. Anything else?" I name what I've got. I name it twice.

"No that's it." I shove everything in a large bag and drive over. Honk multiple times and he finally comes out from Jay's in his Stewie PAJAMAS! Hello? (and it's VERY COLD out!) I hand him the bag, he says "Thanks," I leave.

I'm in the driveway when I hear the phone ringing in the garage.

"You didn't bring my pants."

"You didn't mention pants!" At this point I lose it, and yell and holler and say bad words. It's the second time I've said bad words this week when someone else might have heard them--in this case, Jay's Mom if she was nearby.

Then I go up, look in his closet, and have no idea what pants he want. I grab the navy blue ones, drive back over to Jay's, honk again. He comes running out--God I wish I'd had my camera handy and was quick with it--he comes running out wearing a tuxedo with tails, a white pleated tuxedo shirt, a white tuxedo vest, and Stevie pajama bottoms flapping in the wind. LOL! What a sight to see!

I was laughing too hard to be angry at that point! But it took HALF hour two run back and forth including rummaging time. Which may not seem so bad but add it to the 45 minutes and that is an HOUR and 15 minutes of totally wasted time due to his carelessness and inability to listen to instructions. meanwhile, my lunch is burning!

2009-01-16T07:44:00.000-08:00

Successes and Failures, Small for Success

I set three small goals for myself, at the beginning of the year:

To write a Geraldine poem,
to clean under the Christmas tree and then the table, and clean up old projects
and to start a diet.

and here's my report:

I wrote a Geraldine poem, which is good, but haven't worked on it or filed it properly (bad)
I cleaned under the tree, cleaned the junk off the table, washed the table cloth. I cleaned up SOME of my old projects, but there are so MANY! AK!
I started a diet and lost some weight, but last night, during a bad bout of insomnia, when I was up in the middle of the night, I ate multiple slices of white bread and some other junk and gained some weight! :-(

New Goals (small for success):

Review the Geraldine poem I wrote, make any needed changes, FILE properly, read the Dawn assignments, and write one new poem, preferably a Geraldine poem. File that.
Call Muna Beai for a flu shot, blood test etc, and referrals
Restart my diet starting today

mini goal set 2:

Begin removing items from the Christmas tree (Ask K to bring up boxes) Goal: to have Christmas tree down by Feb 2 (and not before).
Make some positive cleaning changes around tree. Continue to clean up old projects.
Do my assignments for painting class and my sketchbook exchange sketches

I am grateful that:

I've lost weight (not much, but some)
I did make a few positive cleaning changes
I have written several new poems including a Geraldine poem
I've had interesting dreams
I am able to take the painting class
I have a loving and tolerant husband
at least at the moment, we have what we need
there are trees and birds
it's sunny outside
that I took time to meditate today (I got some good ideas!, lol!)

I am trying not to chastise myself for being so slow at meeting my little goals and cleaning up. I always seem to be so BUSY!

2 eggs and a scale

2009-01-15T20:32:00.001-08:00

I had another dream last night--it could have been in response to the friend one, since I'd asked for clarification and it could also havebeen its own thing.

I dreamed that we were breaking camp and everyone had gone ahead andI was making a final check. I found two eggs and a scale, a small electronic digital balance scale (black).

Both eggs were brown, one was boiled and one was raw. They were slightly different in color and size. I took them with me because I thought the scale might belong to Graham. It turned out that the eggs and scale belonged to a friend of Keith's who was traveling with us
(friend).

When I woke up though, I felt that the dream was a message to stop trying to measure poetry against art. Each is its own thing and has its own place and I need to stop weighing them against each other.

Poetry is the cooked egg, in a sense, I've been studying it and it is more well-developed. Art is the raw egg, still in process. Poetry is ready to be eaten. Art still needs to be cooked.

Or maybe the message is to eat the cooked egg first--maybe I AM supposed to weigh them.

There was a friend in the dream--maybe it means that the friend who is angry and afraid and lashing out has many creative powers and energy that would be useful to me if I reintegrated her/him.

I don't know. I'm tired. But I found the dream powerful and full of symbolism. EGGS and SCALES are both very powerful symbols (like SNAKES are powerful!)

Persephone/Demeter are also meaningful for me--Virgo with her scales. Scales can mean justice, Balance (which I sorely need), decision-making.

And eggs. Ideas, growth, birth. Fertility, creative potential. Also fragility.

In the dream, I went on a long solo journey with the eggs and then when I found out they belonged to the friend, I KEPT them and did not return them. Felt a little odd about it, but put them into MY/our things.

I hereby ask for yet ANOTHER dream of clarification for THIS dream. Does it relate to the other or is it its own thing?

Tips for a better life

2009-01-15T16:41:00.001-08:00

I will be referring to these in 2009 to get myself out of the doldrums....or when I need more energy...
my fave : #12 "Try to make at least three people smile each day." I want to make you smile!

This is a forward I got but I thought it had some good points for discussion.

hugs and love to you.
XOX Mary

Tips for Better Life

1. Take a 10-30 minutes walk every day. And while you walk, smile.
2. Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day.
3. Sleep for 7 hours.
4. Live with the 3 E's -- Energy, Enthusiasm, and Empathy.
5. Play more games.
6. Read more books than you did the previous year.
7. Make time to practice meditation, yoga, and prayer. They provide us with daily fuel for our busy lives.
8. Spend time with people over the age of 70 & under the age of 6.
9. Dream more while you are awake.
10. Eat more foods that grow on trees and plants and eat less food that is manufactured in plants.
11. Drink plenty of water.
12. Try to make at least three people smile each day.
13. Don't waste your precious energy on gossip.
14. Forget issues of the past. Don't remind your partner with his/her mistakes of the past. That will ruin your present happiness.
15. Don't have negative thoughts or things you cannot control. Instead invest your energy in the positive present moment.
16. Realize that life is a school and you are here to learn. Problems are simply part of the curriculum that appear and fade away like algebra class but the lessons you learn will last a lifetime.
17. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a beggar.
18. Smile and laugh more.
19. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone. Don't hate others.
20. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
21. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
22. Make peace with your past so it won't spoil the present.
23. Don't compare your life to others'. You have no idea what their journey is all about. Don't compare your partner with others.
24. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.
25. Forgive everyone for everything.
26. What other people think of you is none of your business.
27. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
28. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch.
29. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.
30. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
31. The best is yet to come.
32. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
33. Do the right thing!
34. Call your family often.
35. Your inner most is always happy. So be happy.
36. Each day give something good to others.
37. Don't over do. Keep your limits.
38. Share this with someone you care about

--
I am certain of nothing but the Heart's affections and the truth of the Imagination- John Keats
Mary

Snakes in the Water

2009-01-12T21:08:00.000-08:00

Snakes in the Water

A woman friend* (?) is visiting me. I seem to be living in Big Sur or someplace like that. We are on a cliff looking down at waves crashing on the beach. She speaks of swimming, but I say we can swim up here, and it's very peaceful. "We can swim to the right, we can swim to the left." There suddenly appears to be a deep clear warm lake at the top of the cliff. The water is comforting, warm, refreshing, pretty. After we swim a bit in peace and comfort, we encounter snakes. They are swimming in the water around us, and my friend is frightened of them. I ignore them and swim right through them, and they ignore me. But my friend yells angrily at them and splashes water to scare them off. Instead of fleeing, they rear up in the water hissing, showing their fangs, and then come at us in attack mode, opening their mouths to bite. I am offended that they are attacking me when it wasn't me who attacked them. I am also put off and a bit frightened by the now angry snakes. And I am upset with my friend for provoking them.

*In the dream, I know her, but when I wake, I can't remember or figure out who she is.

I had this dream several days ago and it has been haunting me.

I often think of water as the subconscious.

The green snakes (they were all green and in a wide variety of sizes) seemed peaceful and harmless at first. They floated in the water like lily pads. Relaxed. But when riled, they went into attack mode.

Snakes can be sexual and represent male genitalia, but also represent female power. The Goddess. They can represent nature and the power of nature.

The snake can be a symbol of transformation. Snakes are often seen as symbols of life, death and rebirth. In North American native tribes, the shedding of the snake's skin is associated with life and a new beginning.

If all the parts of the dream are viewed as part of myself, one could look at the dream as two different ways of dealing with life. If I approach life and change in a relaxed and calm way, I move through it without difficulty, but if I get frightened or angry, yell, splash around, than life becomes a problem and attacks me. I've seen this over and over!

I also wonder if the dream could have been caused by a confrontation with the security guard at Elmwood Cemetery. I can't remember if it happened before or after that. The guard was upset and K was exacerbating his upset instead of soothing it.

In any case, ONE message of the dream is to relax and go with the flow, so to speak, be soothing rather than angry and reactive. Unfortunately, when riled, I tend to attack, just like the snakes. That's the wrong approach. I learned it again today when calling the bank about an issue. Calmness works better. BUT, how do I get a grip on myself when upset?

I hereby ask for a clarifying dream.

Could this happen in waking life? Yes but it is unlikely.

Note: I am not normally afraid of snakes in waking life. But I often am in dreams. But not always.

OK, I have worked ALL MORNING and part of the afternoon Tuesday on a poem about this, 6 drafts so far.

Thin as Our Fingers
(Turning Flowers to Garbage)

A lake appears along the trail, above the cliffs
and pounding surf beneath. Bounded by cliff-side rocks,
it stretches nearly as far as we can see. Huge,
like the ocean below, but calmer. More welcoming
than the crashing waves of the sea. The trail
enters the lake and continues out of sight under the water,
as yellow as the yellow brick road in the Land of Oz.
I plunge in, eager, excited. Warm as air, the water
caresses me. Soft. Buoyant, delightful. I exhale, sink into it,
and rise again. “We can swim to the left, we can swim
to the right!” I tell you. And demonstrate. A smile
blossoms on my face and fills me with light
like the first sunny day of spring. You hesitate, then follow,
slowly. Wade, then swim. Then smile, too. We drift together,
above the yellow path under the water. You laugh,
bob, sway, almost seem to dance, until you see
the snakes. Green snakes, hundreds of them.
Some are as thin as our fingers, some as thick and long
as our arms and legs. The snakes float on the water like lily pads,
hold only their nostrils above water, heads suspended, tails dangling
like the long stems of water lilies. I swim and glide among them,
easy, relaxed, smiling. No clouds crowd the horizon; the sky
wears the clearest, deepest blue robes imaginable. Reflects
the endless blue water. But you stiffen. Hang back.
“Look,” I say, “they are harmless.” Snakes surround me,
and pay me no mind. Still frightened, you refuse
to swim forward. Suddenly, you yell and splash at the snakes.
In an instant, they all rear up, draw scaly lips back
to expose their fangs and hiss. They charge us both.

Mary Stebbins Taitt
For BB and jo(e)
090113-1229-1eb

I wonder if I should attempt a version of this poem that not only tells the dream but also explores feelings and possibilities about it. That feels challenging and frightening to me. Making a good and successful POEM out of all that. And right now I am totally overwhelmed, but maybe I can try it later.

I was up really late working on this last night and have done nothing else including EAT (no food yet today, BAD for me!) exercise chores etc. This has really consumed me but I MUST do other things!

I'm struggling

2009-01-11T21:49:00.000-08:00

alone

weather splattered hopes
blot an otherwise bleak landscape
streaks of anger
pale against a sky that refuses color
hint at a stubbornness that quickly darkens
leaving no shadows

clinging to cold rock
numbing roots
bent until my spine aches
branches raw, bark frayed by a
judgmental gale
humiliating blows hit full force

no shelter and no where else to turn
bare twigs reach for the
anger the sky rejects
hoping to ignite a spark of defiance that
warms numb roots
self destruct in a blaze of glory

instead, a gray night rolls in
dense Demerol darkness
anesthetizes the hopelessness
obscuring vision
I bow to blackness, but
pray for a miracle

Sorry I've been so bad about commenting lately. I've been very depressed and angry. I'm mad at my family again. It makes me sick every time I get mad at them. It's hard to function. I wish I wouldn't let them get to me like this. To make matters worse, I'm struggling with a government funded medical program and getting nowhere. I sat on the phone for an hour [using up my minutes] on hold to get my lab results, because they've failed to call me. They disconnected me at closing time. Aaaeeee!!! It's hard enough having to rely on handouts after working all my life, but to have to deal with all this other shit when I don't feel well... I don't have the energy to scream.

My sister thinks I just need to get a second job, like I did before I got sick, instead of sitting around feeling sorry for myself. She started on this kick when I told her I would not take care of my bipolar brother who is refusing to take his meds. I told her that I can't even take care of myself anymore much less him. I've been taking care of him and my mother for 20 years now. I'm done now. That's what this next poem is about. I put it on my other blog, hoping she'd read it.

The Caretaker

What use are you to us
When you make yourself sick
Wallowing in self pity
Won’t listen to our advice?

Because we’ve spent our money,
You have no excuse
You owe us an explanation
Nothing’s free

You are not living up to our expectations
We have given you what we deemed necessary
You have been judged to be in arrears

Now you need to return to
Your previous role!

This last poem I thought about calling "The Rantings of a Spoiled Brat", because that's what I feel like I am/doing. Sorry to be so negative today. I know I should be putting things in God's hands, but I feel so trapped, so alone, so humiliated, and so angry that I don't want to wait on him. I just want to get out of this place!

I Can Choose Not To Listen

“Thank you Jesus, for healing me”
He cries out
Wanting more pain meds
Refuses to take his psychotic meds
Doesn’t care how the hospital bill gets paid

“Just be strong and take care of things”
Clueless fatherly advice
Running thousands of miles away, so
He won’t see the mess he’s left
Thinks he can buy respect

Two generations of
Self righteous rhetoric
Spat out
Condescending benevolence for
Their own benefit

At my expense

Small and smart for Success

2009-01-05T09:32:00.001-08:00

OK, I've boiled my goals down to these:

Lose weight and improve my health
Clean my house
Finish the Geraldine Ms and send it out

There are other goals, but I am starting with these. They are overwhelmingly big, though, so I am starting by:

making small changes in my diet every day until I begin losing weight and then stick with it
start with the livingroom and diningroom table, clean under the tree, clean up old projects, wash the table cloths
Work on the new Geraldine poem and post it and then do another.

When I complete these, I will add more. I hope it leads to success. :-)

Happy New Year!

What's Important?

2009-01-05T09:17:00.001-08:00

In order to prioritize and make choices, one needs to determine what's important in life. I've had this discussion before with myself, and one might imagine that by the time I am 62 and a half years old, I'd have this down, but I don't. I feel a little fuzzy and confused. SO here goes again, for January 2009:

I guess at least to start out with, I will do these as bullets rather than trying to number them and put them in order.

#1 LIFELINE: LIFE and as a subcategory of life, health and safety. Our lives are almost always the most important priority. Only rarely does something become more important than life itself. And, in order to sustain life, we need good health and health services, a healthy diet, exercise, sleep, shelter, warmth, reasonable clothing, and so on. AND SAFETY--fire safety, driving safety, travel safety, etc. Even though I said I wasn't going to prioritize these, I am calling this PRIORITY ONE--LIFELINE. Behaviors and activities that support LIFE and HEALTH (Good health supports a long health life.). Everything related to life, health and safety of MYSELF and my family and secondarily, my pets, friends, and other people, all these are priority ONE and come first. The individual parts of it need to be prioritized according to importance and urgency, but all are high priorities. As a subcategory of health, mental, emotional and social health. Because these things can effect one's well-being in serious (and sometimes fatal) ways, they belong in THIS category, but can sometimes be given slightly lower priority. Work & finances falls into this category, because without work, there is no income, and without income there is no food, shelter, clothing etc. That puts a lot of things though, in the number ONE category. They still need to be further divided in some way so choices can be made. There are also lifeline tasks for pets, plants etc, but these definitely fall into a lower priority than life itself. Life is somewhat more important than health, because health if lost can usually (but not always) be regained. Safety, however is a top priority, with excellent health maintenance right behind it. One car accident can wipe out life or health in a single blow.
Social: family, extended family, friends, other people. Very important. We cannot live (or live well) without social connections. These need to be supported, encouraged, sought after and sustained.
Creativity.
Education.
Recreation. Fun.
Spiritual
Community/World/Environment: this is also a lifeline category, of sorts--if the environment is bad, then our health and lives are not sustained; if war comes here, then we may die in war. And then there are the lives and well-being of others to be considered.
Personal Growth/Healing
Love and Romance
work, career: for me, this is where my writing comes in and I want to make that a high priority! Aiee.
health and fitness. (an important subcategory of life.)
chores and tasks. Why do we do chores and tasks? Because they are necessary to life and our priorities. They are subcategories of other priorities. They can be divided into life-related tasks, eg, shopping for food so we won't starve to death and other tasks, eg: cleaning the house so we can live in a supportive and healthy environment, so it will be welcoming to our friends and family.

At some point, these things get muddled up because they overlap. Some take up larger portions of time and energy because life, for example, mostly seems to sustain itself until it doesn't. We don't think of it as a separate category. And some of these were already mentioned under life. I think I need to do this. Why is it so HARD for me, so totally difficult. Is it my ADHD? Am I mentally deficient? Am I an idiot?

Now that I have written this down, it seems sort of silly.

But I need a way to think about my choices. I don't know why this seems so difficult for me. This doesn't really help me divide up my time and energy. I feel as if I am floundering with this. I feel overwhelmed by thinking about this for some reason today, and I am going to put it aside for now and walk to the store, accomplishing , I hope, the lifeline tasks of exercising, light dose, and shopping for food.

If you can articulate what's important, let me know!!

New Year cogitations

2009-01-05T06:26:00.001-08:00

I want to get started again on my New year's resolutions and goals.

lose weight
clean my house
finish the Geraldine Ms.

I don't want to spend too much time at this cogitation because it will throw my daily schedule off. I want to stick to my early morning light dose and exercises and try to attack what needs most to be done early on. But since one of the priorities of the new year is writing, I want to do quick morning pages to get me in the mood and to clear my mind for more important stuff.

Though it seems that starting right off revising poems or something might be a more productive use of my time. It is sunny and bright out and I want to go out for my morning constitutional as soon as possible. I have a hard time knowing which of the priorities I have should be first. First things first, but which are the most firstest things? Health? Writing? Healing? Exercise, writing, light dose? Cleaning? Help! I don't really KNOW how to prioritize and if I don't know that at 62 1/2, when will I?

I love seeing sunshine, we get so little of it at this time of year. Mostly it is cloudy. Yesterday all day it was dismally dark, light twilight, and in the morning, freezing rain.

9:14 AM If cleaning and chores etc were at all times to be more important than writing, writing would never occur. Same with health issues. There's needs to be a way to divide the time, a schedule. Some sort of flexible schedule, because as soon as one is made, a problem occurs that conflicts with it. I need:

time to write, time to send things out
time to eat
time to sleep
time to walk or run or bike or ski etc ("aerobics")
time to spend with Keith and Graham (family time)(and one to one romantic time)
social time, community time
time to clean
health time: light dose, exercises, doctoring, tests, mammogram, etc
art
recreation
shower etc, basic personal maintenance (this takes longer than it used to!)
chores and tasks
spiritual time, spiritual practice, dream time

I have to go back and look at that pie diagram I made. OK, I am out of time for now. I will have to continue this later. AK! It is hard to think in bits. But I must go.

What are you thinking about during the early part of 2009?

Good News and Bad Regarding my Weight and gratitude for the Holidays and New Year

2009-01-04T07:19:00.001-08:00

Good News and Bad Regarding my Weight

It's the new year and time to try again to lose weight. The good news is that I weight 24 pounds LESS than I weighed a year ago. Yeah, I know, I don't look a bit different and I still look fat, but I do weigh less and my clothes are a little looser and more comfortable. The further good news is that I only gained about 8 pounds over the holidays from Thanksgiving through New Year's, which will be easier to lose again, I hope, than the 25 or so I gained last year over the holidays. The bad news is that I am about 20 pounds heavier than I was at my lowest during the summer, and I am sick with all the usual problems I get when I travel. I have a sore throat, probably from eating dairy products inadvertently. I have pain in my feet and joints etc., the usual, somewhat exacerbated by bad food. The good news is that it is not as bad as it often is after I travel. Worse than normal, but less worse. I attempted to be extremely careful.

I am starting a diet, gradually at first, but then escalating, I hope. I can never predict the course of these things, but I intend to keep trying. Health first, weight loss second. Exercise.

I will report back. I hope. Sometimes, I get so busy I just cannot keep track of things or blog.

HAPPY NEW YEAR to You! :-D May 2009 be the best year yet for you personally and for the country and world.

I am grateful that:

I got to see my children (YAY!) and some of my friends over the holidays!
I weigh less than I did a year ago.
Our traveling both to and from NY was safe and relatively uneventful.
I did not gain as much as I sometimes do over the holidays.
I did not get as sick as I sometimes do over the holidays.
I am home. (Even though I enjoyed seeing everyone--my kids and friends! YAY!)
I had bird food for the birds and squirrels.
My African violets and houseplants survived without me and are still alive.
I have another opportunity to get back on track with my health and weight.
There is beauty to enjoy while traveling.
My husband loves me and tries to please me and make me happy.
I wrote two drafts of a new poem to bring in the new year.
I got nice gifts for Christmas from hubby and children etc.
I enjoyed lots of good food over the holidays and last night.
There is another new year to grow and heal and see beauty and be creative in.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Shame

2008-12-18T16:59:00.000-08:00

Dear Mike,

The walls are watching
And have taken note
Of the lurking absurdity since you’ve been gone
Cracks are peeping in
On my cross-dressing roommate painting his toenails
In the room that used to be your office
He’s moved his adolescent internet girlfriend in
And insists that he really doesn’t like clothes
She’s pondering on the back porch
Burning bugs
Because he wants her to be thin like me
My just-out-of-prison boyfriend
Expounds in the living room
On self glorified escapades
With three women slaves
He thinks I’m willful
Insists that I put your pictures away
And that the naked roommate has to go
Mom calls
Johnny Malonny has started a family feud
The enemy family has jacked with her hot water heater
And she can’t get it relit
By the way, what time is it?
For the forth time today…
Insists that she’s my daughter
And that she’s been here before
She’s worried that I’ve become a lesbian
I pour myself another drink and swear I can hear
The foundation’s manic moan
And the support beam’s crazed creak
Tell a bizarre tale
Through cracks in the walls of the once stable home
We shared
How did things get so weird?

I made this picture over a year ago for Illustration Friday, and decided today that it needed a poem to go with it. The eyes are actually the eyes of the roommate and boyfriend mentioned in the poem. The poem is about a time period from '05 to '06 when my health took a turn for the worse. I ran into the boyfriend at the grocery store not too long ago. His demeanor had changed. He seemed more humble [I'm using that term loosely]. After talking with him for a while, he mentioned that he was going to AA. Ah, that explained it. Really though, I was so happy to hear that. In fact, I was surprised at how happy it made me, because when I first saw him, I was trying to hide, hoping he wouldn't see me. I could see that he sincerely wanted to make amends. He apologized for the way he treated me, and I forgave him. I hope he stays with it. As far as the cross-dressing roommate and his pyromaniac girlfriend, they broke up, and he still owes me $500. Glad that chapter's over.

Broken Eggs and Sinking Raft

2008-12-05T09:52:00.000-08:00

This all ends up WASTING so much time because nothing WORKS RIGHT! I am getting very frustrated and upset.

The Broken Eggs

I am at Florence Morrison's house for a class she is teaching and she is frying eggs for us--we have to get them from the fridge and bring them to her and she tosses them into the pan--to speed things up. When I go to get mine, the fridge is full of broken brown eggs, and stacks of shells. Everyone else finds eggs, but I find only shells and broken eggs. Florence tells me broken eggs are still good and I say, "remember how I used to have chickens bag then, I know about broken eggs," but I still can't find any that are edible. She tells me I need to hurry and I crawl inside the refrigerator in order to see better. Now, even the cracked ones are gone.

I wake up with images of cracked and broken eggs haunting me. (Broken dreams?)
I feel somehow sad and left out.
I honored the dream by writing that poem, and I ask for dreams of clarification.

I am grateful for

enough sleep to dream.
a husband who seems to really love me, in spite of the wretched poem I just wrote about him
a husband who is handsome and sexy
the fact that I lost some weight! YAY!

OK, here's the poem I wrote based in part upon the dream:

The Sinking Raft

Slowly, my husband unloves me. He stops
putting the clean laundry in the drawers, then stops
fluffing and folding it. Brings it up and dumps it
in a tangle. Stops greasing my feet, rubbing my back,
making love to me. "I will do everything,"
he said, when he was courting. I dream of Florence,
wife of John, my botany professor. More than forty
years ago, John tried to get me into bed. I refused,
despite his gifts and constant attention, but Katra caved
and fell that long dark fall where you know you'll die
when you hit bottom, and she wasn't dreaming.
Katra didn't die, she became a lesbian, after John.
Who could blame her? And Florence had an unfaithful

husband. I hated John for that. "I'll do everything,"
my husband said. "You can't," I countered.
He tried, but couldn't. Of course
he couldn't. No one could. I can't
do anything. I rarely sleep, stare, zombie-like
at the increasing chaos I can't control
with my exhausted brain and body.
But each time he stops, I see him turning away,
turning his face to the wall, inching toward the farthest
edge of the bed, away from me. He does that, too.
Leaves me in sleep. I leave him, too,
get up and pace the dark for hours, too tired
to be useful. I finally sleep and go

somewhere he's never been, without him.
When I dream of Florence, her refrigerator is full
of broken eggs. She fries eggs for all the women
her husband courts, and everyone gets eggs
but me. But why go back now, forty years later?
Menopause? Dashed hopes, broken dreams?
Is, like John, my husband unfaithful? "Remember
when you used to love me?" I ask my husband.
He tries the same on me. "See how it hurts?"
He clings to me in bed, before he turns away,
clings as to a life-raft in a stormy sea.
I cling to him. We're not unfaithful, only old
and getting daily older.

Mary Taitt
081205-1026-1c; 081205-0945 1st

I'm always making BB sound like a jerk. Actually, I'm the one that's a jerk, probably.

I had a terrible night last night. Did not get to sleep until well after 3:30 AM. When I don't sleep well, everything looks bad to me.

Mary's mole has reached English shores

2008-11-28T08:42:00.001-08:00

LOOK! I'm in England!

It landed on my doormat Tuesday (thanks Mike) and here it is on my table, waiting for inspiration to tickle my creative nodes. Great to see all your work first hand, and it is very inspiring. I can't wait to get started, if only I was in more. Need some more so-called Arctic weather to keep us indoors.

--
Posted By Johnnynorms to Moleskine Exchange at 11/27/2008 03:05:00 PM

Oops, I posted this by mistake. I was trying to send it to an alternate email address and typed it in wrong. BUT I think I will leave it, if you don't mind, as a gratitude thing! YAY! My artwork has arrived in England and I am grateful for that. And it will come back with other people's art in it! Wahoo! I want to do a gratitude list for Thanksgiving; we were too busy then.

I am grateful my Mole is touring around and will come back to me with art from all over.
I am grateful for BB who is out chopping leaves for the garden (mulch).
I am grateful for his love.
I am grateful for PB's musical ability and his health and well-being and the physical contact we had yesterday--I got to be close to him for a change on the couch at the family gathering.

I am also grateful for:

My daughters and their health, safety and well-being.
Time to be grateful.
Family time.
Good food.
Solo time, solitude.
Sunshine (not today).
my new light therapy lamp which might help me sleep better.
Beauty and the ability to appreciate beauty.
The things we have. (I am remembering how we lost 4 things and found them again and how grateful we were to have them back.)

I hope to write more sometime (later?)

Tantrum Dream

2008-11-26T15:01:00.001-08:00

Tantrum Dream

BB, PB and I are in the basement eating, talking, discussing, arguing. PB is watching TV. I am eating a yogurt which explodes in my hands, I am wearing white gloves and get going yogurt and red jelly all over my gloves. I run upstairs to clean up and BB is coming up too. There is a baby on the counter in a child seat(the counter is the exact same blue formica as our current counters, and the baby looks like Sophia, but her car seat is like the one BBJ had as a baby), BB is feeling the baby red jelly with a spoon and managing to block the sink so I can't get cleaned up. I wait at first, then try to squeeze by. The mess is getting worse and I feel desperate to clean up and I start having a tantrum. I beat BB on the chest with my first and and kick him in the shins and cry. He says, "Does this mean you don't want to go for a walk with me later and I say "Yes." "I mean no!" I am trying to say, 'Yes I want to go for a walk,' 'no I don't mean that!' but he has stormed out and can't hear me and I wake up all agitated and upset.

When I telll BB the dream, he says it's a classic Freudian dream about sex and the mess is jism and the dancing around is sex and the confusion is all the confusion brought on sex (and the baby is the result of sex).

I suppose you could interpret it that way, but I tend to think otherwise--or at least that there could be multiple interpretations. I think I am feeling guilty about the times I get angry at at BB and he done nothing intentionally to hurt me/ Mostly, he means well. I tend to be over sensitive and reactive, especially when I am tired.

(I am really tired right now, from baking all day--3 pies, cranberry marshmallow salad, chocolate wafer cake etc-- HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!)

I statements from dream:

I can't get cleaned up!
The mess is getting worse.
I feel desperate about the mess!
I am having a tantrum about the mess.
I am having a tantrum because BB is blocking the way for me to get cleaned up. In the dream, he is in the way and I can't get to the sink. In my waking life. He is uncooperative (sometimes) about helping to clean and very uncooperative and stubborn and slow about dealing with Susan's stuff. I feel as if HE is in the way to my getting unpacked and settled in to this house. I need to find ways that I can proceed even without his help and cooperation, or I will be endlessly unhappy.
I "hate" BB (during the tantrum)!
I know I love him and will want to be with him later (as the tantrum subsides.)
I am eating something that I'm allergic to. In the dream, I am eating yogurt, which I'm allergic to--this may mean in my waking life, i am eating something else I'm allergic to and need to pay attention to what that might be.)
I am wearing white gloves. Gloves can signify security and abundance. White gloves can signify handling a situation with care. Messing gloves, especially white ones, can signify difficulties. White gloves can signify looking for messes. (I don't need to look very far!)

Here is that reoccurring theme of being disturbed and distraught by messiness! This was an upsetting dream! I really need to get a grip!

Gratitude List:

three pies made--I made: apple cranberry, lemon meringue and bumbleberry pies
salad (cranberry-marshmallow) and chocolate wafer cake made.
BB is making dinner. YAY!
I had two 15 minutes today
I got a new light therapy lamp which is supposed to help my sleep. I hope it does.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Small + Smart = Success

2008-11-24T07:54:00.001-08:00

Small + Smart = Success (A Wings for you Challenge)

My goals for now and the New Year 2009 (Remember, a new year starts every day and every moment!) are as follows:

Ø Lose weight

Ø Get healthy

Ø Improve my sleep

Ø Work on my issues

Ø Unpack my boxes

Ø Finish the Geraldine MS and begin finishing the Sissy Ms etc

Ø Improve my relationship with my husband, son, daughters, friends

Ø Improve my ability to communicate

Ø Make ONE NEW GOOD FRIEND LOCALLY

Ø Spend more time in nature

Ø Improve my art

Ø Get the house clean and organized

Ø Improve the gardens

Ø Improve my financial situation

Ø Have fun

Ø Continue and improve my personal and spiritual growth

OK, now for the small and smart:

Weight: try over Thanksgiving and other holidays not to totally lose control. And THEN, begin immediately to eat right. Do an abstinence-1 diet for at least ONE WEEK immediately following an eating even, and continue it until my weight is three pounds below where it was before the eating event. Then continue if possible.
Ask BB TODAY to bring me one box from the basement to unpack. Unpack it. Do it again in a few days. (After Thanksgiving.)
Within ONE WEEK from today, locate the information about the doctors I was supposed to see. If not found, call and ask for the information again next Monday!

That is enough for right now. If I can work with these two things as soon as I am able to, I will add more later.

I make New Year's resolutions almost every year, and things generally improve for a while. I also make them at my birthday (a new year) and other times throughout the year. It always helps for a while, and then I backslide.

I am feeling overwhelmed with things I have to do, so I want to not try to take on too much extra. I am meeting with my financial adviser tomorrow, so that is one small step toward one of my goals.

I would like to report that last year, one of my resolutions was to lose weight and I did lose weight and I am still less than I was last January. Another resolution was to work on the Geraldine MS and I did and made good progress. I didn't finish it, but I made good progress.

Gratitude list:

I am still lighter and thinner than I was last January
I made good progress on Geraldine
I slept a little better and a little longer last night
I had an interesting dream
I am grateful for: trees, birds, birdflight, love, touch, companionship, good food

Feeling Stuck with issues., looking for solutions

2008-11-24T07:16:00.001-08:00

We have a variety of issues, many of which are due in part of entirely to my illness. But we/I also have communication problems.

I have written this note to BB, but I also need to figure out things I can do differently to help change things for the better.

Things you need to know about me:

I do not beg. I might, if someone put a gun to my head and threatened to kill me, but it would be coerced. I will ask for what I want sometimes. But not repeatedly. For example, if I tell you I am really tired and want to go to bed and you choose to ignore me, I assume you have things you want to do.
I do not make demands and issue orders except under special circumstances, e.g.: if you have offered to help cook a meal and need instruction. I will not tell you to go do the laundry, chop up the leaves, etc, I assume you're a responsible adult capable of doing what needs to be done without prodding. I do not believe that I am in charge. I also do not believe that you are in charge. I believe we have a partnership. But communication is essential to a partnership, and we need help with that.
I do not stand and wait, because it hurts my hips. When I am in a lot of pain, I want to keep walking to get somewhere and sit down. I also do not stand and, for example, look at the stars for extended periods, especially late at night or after walking, because that not only hurts my hips and feet, but also my neck.
I do not sit and wait, if I can avoid it, unless I have something to do. This is because I get bored and agitated thinking of everything that needs to be done while I am sitting there doing nothing. Clear communication is essential if we are to accomplish anything together. For example, if we are planning to go somewhere together or to do something together (e.g.: yard work), you need to let me know when you are READY if I am doing something else! I am probably waiting for you.
I do not go to bed before you, except when I am genuinely ill. This is because I often cannot sleep, and I never sleep readily when I first lay down (except under very special circumstances). If I go to bed first, I lie there waiting for you and getting agitated and bored and then I am more likely to not sleep at all, all night.
I am not obligated to know or remember (or do) ANYTHING. When I do not sleep for days on end, my memory disappears for even the simplest things. This is beyond my control; I do not know how to make myself sleep and how to make myself remember when I do not sleep. Making fun of me or being unkind about it is stupid, mean, unproductive and likely to cause a serious rift.
When I am really sick, you need to take over responsibilities. You do this well sometimes, but not other times. Sometimes, I am truly incapable of doing things that require standing, for example.
Lack of sleep for days on end makes me extremely tired and cranky (GROUCHY!) This is something I cannot seem to control once I get in that state. Yelling at me because I'm exhausted and cranky and can't help it just makes things WORSE! If you are tired and cranky too, we should consider planning activities that do not put us in close contact.
I think we need couples counseling and family therapy and I think PB needs help/counseling. We need assistance learning to communicate with each other because we fail at it miserably. PB need to work on his attitude and maybe be evaluated.
I desperately need regular contact with nature and WILDNESS (e.g.: more nature than one can find in the city.) We need to work on solving this issue or I will be forever unhappy. I don't seem to be able to change this need; it's deeply ingrained in me.
I need HELP solving the issues of workspace and storage space. I will not be happy until we get the boxes out of the living spaces. I need help dealing with the stuff in boxes. I would like you to help me.
I believe that YOU are the one PRIMARILY responsible for giving PB discipline and orders. 1)You are his father. 2)I am a STEPMOTHER. Being a stepmother and interloper gives me much less power and authority. You need to step up to the plate.
I will not throw away or move PW's things by myself because I don't know what's yours and what's hers and what you want. If we are ever to get things in order, I will NEED YOUR HELP! I am still living like a guest in this house, which makes me feel unloved and unwanted (and like leaving and going elsewhere.) I know PW needs to be remembered and cherished--I'd want to be remembered if I died. However, I need space in the house and PW is not coming back. She doesn't need her books and other items.

We cannot change other people. We can tell them what we want, but we cannot change them; we can only change ourselves. So, I need to ask myself, in what ways can I CHANGE MYSELF that would help solve some of these issues we have.

I can work at trying to solve my health issues so I get enough sleep and feel better and am less cranky, grouchy and reactive.
I could get therapy and try to deal with some of these issues. (But of course, that would mean a struggle with someone other than myself). I could, in therapy, perhaps learn to communicate better.
I could LEAVE BB and move away to a place where I feel more comfortable and closer to nature--but I would be very sad to leave him.
I could take assertiveness training. (Yet again).
I could spend less time doing art and writing etc and more time sorting through boxes. (But I need soemwhere to work).
To tell you the truth, I am at my wit's end and don't really know how to solve these issues or what to do.
I can take ONE DAY AT A TIME and do my best. EASY DOES IT but DO IT!
I can pray about it, turn it over, ask for help (asking for help is NOT the same as begging, I have too remind myself of that), work the steps, take action however small. Satrting NOW--I need to do soemthing, not write.

I feel a little stuck--I need to BREAK OUT and make some changes.

Two Dreams, Wrong Trail, Backing up the Dream

2008-11-23T15:34:00.001-08:00

The Wrong Trail

BB, PB and I stand in an arid sunny woods with very little understory. Trails diverge in a number of directions, and there are signs pointing the way and colored trail markers, blue and orange. At some point though, we have lost the way and stand and argue, which way. PB points up the hill, I think we need to go left along the ridge. But PB is adamant and we follow him, up over a ridge and down. We emerge from the woods in an area that is under construction. Large yellow construction vehicles and partly finished buildings litter the landscape. I want to say, "I told you so," but I refrain. This is not where we wanted to go. This is not where we want to be. But as I am looking around, I see that there are many strange animals wandering about, as if escaped from an animal farm, or zoo. A large deer-like animal (female elk?) comes up to investigate me and I somehow capture it. I want to take it back where it belongs, to lead it back, and it is willing to come with me. But I wake up.

Backing up the dream

I am making a drawing and something bumps my arm. This causes me to make a stray mark where I don't want one. I know I am dreaming, so I back up the dream the way you would undo a mistake in photoshop, and thus erase the mistake. I am drawing a tree, and coloring the branches a pale shade of orange.

I statements from the dreams:

I am on the wrong trail. (We are on the wrong trail).
I am not where I want to be. (We are not where we want to be.)
I am under construction.
I can lead the animals.
I need to back up.
I need to be assertive when I am right. (?)

(?) My spirit guides are wandering around aimlessly because I am not giving them guidance by asking for guidance. (?)

Advice from the deer spirit guide: "listen, watch, pay attention, hide well, consider carefully irreversible decisions. (WARNING BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP!) Be a deer--a DEAR. Or--you are a dear."

"An elk in a dream symbolizes strength and endurance. You need to spend more time with friends and eat healthier food." Boy do I

"Elk in a dream signify that you'll have no need to worry about your attraction and/or ability in regard to sexual relations." I'm doing OK in that department, no concerns there.

Elk dreams relate to being in nature. They point to the basics of life and longing for freedom and simplicity. You need to roam about, you need wide open spaces, you need mental clarity and openness. You need passion. Elk are also symbolic of self-development and redemption. Elk can be symbols of grace.

elk Graceful strength, versatile, or noble. Dreaming of this animal can represent:

Having too much of one of these qualities, or that you could benefit by being less this way
Not having enough of one of these qualities, or that you could benefit by being more like this
Someone or something in your real life with whom you associate one of these qualities (an event, situation, threat, etc.)

For more clues, pay attention to what the animal was doing or any particular characteristic that stood out.

I was going to lead the elk BACK to captivity in my dream. It seemed at the time to be the right thing to do. But I FEEL LIKE A CAPTIVE IN MY LIFE soemtimes, separated from what I need by being in the city.

I need:

freedom, freedom to roam about
nature

These are things I do NOT have in abundance in my current life.

Elk, who are you? Why are you in my dream?

I am I-sisis, EYE-sie-sis. I am the spirit guide of the wild and open spaces, come to remind you of your need for freedom and clarity, for power and strength, for health and companionship, for being you, for holding your head up high. I am strength and power, sexuality and creativity. I am the she-goddess incarnate. Worry less, BE more. Go make dinner! SMILE!

Focusing on the Abundance

2008-11-20T17:39:00.000-08:00

A banana tree flower that once had an abundance of bananas on it's stem.

I like Mary's idea of making a list of the things we have plenty of. It's another form of the gratitude list.

I have an abundance of:

- time to work on creative things
- spiritual things, ie. literature and meetings

Hmmm. That's all I can think of. Ok, here's my gratitude list.

I'm grateful for:

- the time and supplies I have for doing creative things [like my camera, so I can take pictures of banana flowers:]]
- the spiritual things, and God providing for me what I need
- having the necessities like shelter, food [not really an abundance of that, money's tight and I'm hungry right now, but I'm not starving] and clothes [I can get by for a little while longer on what I have]
- my computer when it works, and my blogging friends, like Mary, Yea!
- being able to pay my bills this month
- my sister-in-law who is going to take me out the family ranch with her for Thanksgiving this year, so I have something to look forward to

Ok, this has taken me over an hour to do. I've been pretty depressed, but I did it. I can see how Mary struggled with hers last week [or was that the week before?]. Today, work was difficult because of the pain, but I drew in my sketch book, and now I'm playing on the computer to take my mind off of my money and medical problems. I'm doing ok. I'll survive.

Putting the cart before the horse

2008-11-18T13:08:00.001-08:00

I think decluttering is ESSENTIAL for clearing and healing, but before I can even do that, I have to get back to eating properly. I am feeling utterly exhausted and terrible and it is hard for me to work at all when I am this tired. I've gotten a small start on eating better today, and tomorrow I will try to work even harder at it. I need to create a plan. But I don't have time right now.

Decluttering

2008-11-18T12:00:00.001-08:00

I was reading in Soul Coaching about the importance of decluttering. I read about it in a book about losing weight, too. And I KNOW it. Deep down I know it, but I am being unsuccessful at it--it is one of the things I desperately need to work on. I would have a greater sense of abundance if I had LESS CLUTTER!

Further thoughts on Abundance and Scarcity

2008-11-18T03:29:00.000-08:00

Further thoughts on Abundance and Scarcity

We're back from our annual anniversary trip to Hamilton. I'm grateful that we were able to go and to have fun and to enjoy each other's company. Furthermore, I am grateful that they'd had plenty of rain, so that the waterfalls were full and impressive. AND I am grateful that although we lost 4 things while were there, we found all four of them again.

BB lost his glasses while we were hiking, looking for Albion Falls. He was bushwhacking. He discovered they were gone a long ways out and we retraced our steps looking for them and found them in the bushes. At the Botanical Gardens, We purchased a card for BB's Mom. It was a $5 homemade card and we really liked it. We left it with our coats while touring the greenhouses, and then went out to walk and when we were back at the motel, realized we didn't have it. We went back the next day and got it fromt he lost and found--that was a relief, Then BB lost his cell phone. He didn't discover it until evening when we'd been out and about all day. He made a trip back int he early morning but didn't find it. We went out hiking and I lost my lens cap and later found it. Then the phone rang and we found it--it had gotten lost in the car. The glasses would have been expensive to replace, but the cell phone would have been even worse, because he's grandfathered in in an inexpensive plan which is no longer avialble, so if he had to buy a new phone, it would have cost more every month! We had a great sense of abundance simply from getting back--and thus appreciating--what we already had! Seriously!

I was thinking about that list I'd made for what my abundant life would look like, and then was aware how many of those things I already had. I have a great deal of abundance in my life, but I also have scarcity at the same time.

from that list, here's what I have generally in abundance, or enough of to feel abundant:

Enough food, shelter, clothing to stay warm and dry (not to be a fashion plate), money or means to acquire what I truly need.
Love. Romantic/partner love. (BB) We generally have a good relationship.
Hugs! Touching. BB is very sweetly affectionate.
Creativity. Writing, poetry, art. Cooking. (Generally, I have enough, sometimes not).
Trust.
Beauty: The ability to see, perceive and enjoy beauty. And perhaps translate it.
Possessions: I would like to have those things I need to live, love, cook, do art etc. Generally, I have plenty.

And here's what I need more of to feel "abundant:

SLEEP! My insomnia has been really bad lately and it effects everything about my life. Negatively, including my general feelings of well-being and abundance. It's hard to feel like I have abundance when I am exhausted all the time.
Good health. To really feel blessed and abundant, good health would be helpful.
A lean healthy body. Probably not a necessity, but it sure would help.
Nature and outdoors: I need to have some time in nature and be outdoors. We had a good dose of it this weekend, but normally, we don't get enough.
Help! Growing and healing and coming to terms with my issues. And more support in this area from BB.
Friendship. Connections. I left my friends behind when I moved here and have not made many new friends here--and those I have made are not good friends yet, and I rarely see them.
Ways to “give back.” I would like to give back in ways that fit who I am and my lifestyle without taking too much away.
Organization: to be able to complete tasks, I need to be more organized.
good communication! this is one of the weak points in my relationship with BB and in my life.

And here are some items that I have both abundance and scarcity:

Family. Connections. I have BB abd PB nearby, but my other children and the rest of my family is far away and I rarely see them.
Smiles, laughter, sharing. Connections.
Community. Connections.
Meaningful, satisfying activities and work.
Completion. The ability to one by one in an orderly fashion see my projects to fruition. I have a multitude of unfinished projects.
Satisfaction: The ability to derive pleasure and satisfaction from daily accomplishments.
Travel: I would like to be able to travel occasionally.

Security: I know we never really have security, but I would like to change my mindset so I feel secure enough to give more freely, be more generous. Trust.
Learning and exploration: I need to learn new things, explore new places.

In a way, everything fits into the last category. Abundance is a state of mind and my state of mind fluctuates. And whether I feel abundant depends on how I look at things. For example, money. RIght now we have "enough" money for our daily needs. But GM, where BB works, keeps laying people off and letting people go. So--do we have enough, when his job is in potential jeopardy? BB is 63 and I am 62. We have a college-bound 14-year-old. Do we have enough to send him to college and retire? Do we have enough for contingencies? Illness? Old age? (Probably NOT!)

If we look at what we have, we can feel that we have abundance. If we look at what we we need coming up, scarcity breathes its fiery breath down our backs. Because we're getting old, we're in increasing danger of losing life itself.

Still, if we live one day at a time, if we live in this moment, right now we're pretty OK. Not perfect--I'm up writing this early early because I had insomnia and wasn't sleeping. Been awake for hours trying to go back to sleep. On the other hand, there is snow outside, and wolves howling at the door--figuratively anyway, real snow--figurative wolves--and I am inside where it is warm, dry and light (It's still dark outside). I have a computer. I'm not always sure that's a blessing, but it is more than many people have. I have food, as I mentioned above. NEEDS, Barbara Kingsolver wrote, are so small as to rattle around in a bucket. Once we have our NEEDS met, abundance is an attitude.

I NEED SLEEP. The rest I can work on, make progress.

Gratitude List:

I am grateful for the nice weekend we had
I am grateful for the lost items that came back to us
I am grateful for healthy delicious food--and for the omelet I'm going to make myself for breakfast soon.
I am grateful for waterfalls
I am grateful for trees and birds
I am grateful for BB
I am grateful for the nice music that PB makes. Last night I satu while he did his practicing simply listening to him play
I am grateful BB reads to us.
I am grateful for my children and their well-being.
I am grateful for Blue Rose and Twelve &.
I am grateful for poetry and art.
I am grateful for beauty and the ability to appreciate it.

Attracting Abundance, A Wings Challenge

2008-11-08T17:16:00.000-08:00

Attracting Abundance, A Wings Challenge

1)What is abundance for me? Let me start with what it is NOT. Abundance does NOT mean having a lot of money. I don’t object to having a lot of money, I guess, but I don’t think money is the root of abundance. One needs enough money to meet one’s basic needs.

To feel as if I have abundance in my life, here is what I think I need:

Ø Enough food, shelter, clothing to stay warm and dry (not to be a fashion plate), money or means to acquire what I truly need.
Ø Good health. To really feel blessed and abundant, good health would be helpful.
Ø A lean healthy body. Probably not a necessity, but it sure would help.
Ø Nature and outdoors: I need to have some time in nature and be outdoors.
Ø Love. Romantic/partner love.
Ø Trust.
Ø Family. Connections.
Ø Friendship. Connections.
Ø Hugs! Touching.
Ø Creativity. Writing, poetry, art. Cooking.
Ø Help! Growing and healing and coming to terms with my issues.
Ø Smiles, laughter, sharing. Connections.
Ø Community. Connections.
Ø Meaningful, satisfying activities and work.
Ø Completion. The ability to one by one in an orderly fashion see my projects to fruition.
Ø Satisfaction: The ability to derive pleasure and satisfaction from daily accomplishments.
Ø Beauty: The ability to see, perceive and enjoy beauty. And perhaps translate it.
Ø Possessions: I would like to have those things I need to live, love, cook, do art etc.
Ø Travel: I would like to be able to travel occasionally.
Ø Ways to “give back.” I would like to give back in ways that fit who I am and my lifestyle without taking too much away.
Ø Security: I know we never really have security, but I would like to change my mindset so I feel secure enough to give more freely, be more generous. Trust.
Ø Organization: to be able to complete tasks, I need to be more organized.
Ø Learning and exploration: I need to learn new things, explore new places.
Ø good communication!

Is there anyone doing what I want to do? Yes, lots of people publishing books, doing research, writing poetry, doing art, writing children’s books, traveling, etc. Part of my problem may be that my expectations are too high. I want everything. I guess I need to learn to do one thing at a time, complete it, celebrate it, and then move on. Or do a couple things, but not too many. I have tendency to have too many irons in the fire, too many projects going, and not complete them, or if I do, be unable to celebrate because I have six other deadlines and urgent things going on—or that’s my perception, anyway.

Also, there are people who are organized and together and manage to accomplish many things and still seem to be happy and calm. (Maybe they don’t have ADHD—like I do.)

There are people with ADHD who manage to overcome their handicap and accomplish great things—I guess. I don’t know of any, but there must be. There are certainly many people writing and publishing books and making great art.

In my ideal abundant life, I would be lean, healthy and organized, have a reasonably tidy house, and crank out project after project or poetry, books, art and photography in a reasonable and organized way and also have time for love, family and friends. I would sometimes travel. I would laugh a lot and have fun. I would spend time outdoors in nature, visit art museums, go to concerts. I would explore. Good communication—I would be able to communicate more successfully and so would those around me!

Limiting beliefs:

Ø I believe myself to be unworthy of good things. I think I am a bad person.
Ø I’m not good enough.
Ø I believe in scarcity. There are not enough good things to go around.
Ø I feel unlovable. It doesn’t help that I just had a fight with my husband over something stupid and am now missing my son’s concert. And my $15 ticket is going unused (but worse that I am missing the concert after all the work they did getting ready).
Ø There is not enough love. Just look around.
Ø There is not enough food—people are starving.
Ø People with ADHD are rarely if ever successful. I don’t know of anyone who is.
Ø People with ADHD and addictions are probably even less likely to be successful. FAT people with ADHD and addictions are probably even LESS likely to succeed. (Everyone knows fat people are ugly, stupid and unlovable, right? That’s how it seems.)

I thought my husband might come back and get me but he didn’t and the concert will start in 5 minutes and I can’t get there in 5 minutes. I am feeling very sad and very bad. My heart hurts. Maybe he thought I would drive over there. But it’s too late now. Maybe I should add good communication to the list of things one would have in an abundant life. I am very very sad.

Now it is after 8:00 and the concert is going on without me.

OK, for my limiting beliefs, here are some allowing statements:

Ø I am human and therefore quite fallible, which I hate to admit, but I am generally a good and worthy person. (I don’t really believe it, no matter how many times I say it.) I love and accept me exactly as I am, even if I’m a jerk. I love and accept me exactly as I am.
Ø I am good enough. (Occasionally). I am good enough, I am good enough, I am good enough.
Ø There is enough for me. I already have enough, I just need to change my perceptions. There is more than enough.
Ø I am willing to give and receive abundant love. There is enough love. I deserve love (just by being human and loving.)
Ø There is enough love.
Ø There are probably people with ADHD who are successful.
Ø There are probably people with ADHD and addiction who are overweight and are still successful.
Ø I have already succeeded in:
o Walking the Northville Placid Trail
o Walking part of the Colorado trail
o Getting two master’s Degrees with high honors.
o Writing several complete novel manuscripts
o Writing several complete poetry manuscripts
o Winning awards for my photos, art and poetry.
o (Therefore, I can succeed in other ways as well.)

(but I still don’t believe it. I feel worthless and unlovable and unsuccessful and stupid.) (Being home alone and missing my son’s concert is NOT helping at all. And if I look at myself, or look around me, my worst fears are confirmed. I am fat and messy.)

Ø I am willing to be lean and healthy and lead a happy loving abundant life. :-D

(Sorry to be so whiny--I am really depressed--I was hoping this would cheer me, but it hasn't, because the situation I am in is unresolved.)

OK, I feel a little better now that I have created an image, a little more hopeful.

This image represents me in my new abundant life. I am sitting in a beautiful spot in nature writing poetry or stories or drawing. I am working on a project and I intend to see it through to fruition. The white moths represent angles. They are my muses, my spirit guides, my spirit healers and my spirit teachers. (I suppose I should show more of them, but you get the idea.) When I take a step forward in the right direction, they gather around to help. If I take a step in the wrong direction, they warn and teach and guide. And if I don't listen, they hopefully help me learn from my mistakes. (Okay, I admit it, I am often a slow learner.) But they keep trying. Although I will never be this young again, I could possibly be lean and healthy. Like this girl.

I need to:

get back on my diet
work harder at it, but in a relaxed and loving way
keep working on my projects, one or two at a time.
Try to balance them by doing work around the house and other things that need to be done.
Try again to make a flexible schedule.
Try to get back on an even keel with BB once this blows over.
Keep plugging away.

Wings Challenge - Attracting Abundance

2008-11-08T09:51:00.000-08:00

In this Wings Challenge we were to define abundance and come up with an Allowing Statement to help us overcome limiting attitudes that are blocking us from having what we want. As I was working on defining what abundance means to me, I began to realize that I would need to be able to think clearly to attain the things I want. In my life of abundance, I would be able to worship, love, create artistically, and learn to my full potential without my vision being clouded by depression or anxiety. I went on to write about the health and peacefulness that would result, and how I would be celebrating abundance with others who appreciate the same things. This is how I see abundance.

So, when answering the question, "Is there anyone I know who has what I want?", I wrote, "Yes, a friend of mine who, in spite of her disease, is able to find peace and quiet her anxieties through prayer." It wasn't until after writing that statement that I realized I had just written my Allowing Statement. You'd think that this would be a very simple and obvious conclusion to come to, but it wasn't really the answer I was expecting to get from this challenge. Who knows what I was looking for, but I'm quite sure this is what I needed to find, even though prayer does not come easy to me.

As for my visual representation of abundance, water is very symbolic of spiritual things to me. The clear water in this picture is full of life and it's abundant colors.

In wrapping up the challenge, we're reminded again of the importance of a gratitude list to create positive energy. My list today includes yesterday's, because that when I worked on all of this.

1. The thing I'm grateful for the most today is the feeling that God guided me in this challenge to what I needed the most. I'm sure I have many more limiting attitudes that need work, but I now feel intuitively sure that this is what I should be focusing on.

2. I'm grateful for the chance I had to see an ex-boyfriend the other day. The reason is because he had quit drinking, and is now going to AA. I could see a difference in him, his demeanor, and the way he talked. And even though I could never date him again, it made me so happy to see that he was turning his life around. The joy I felt surprised me. I nearly cried. Then he apologized to me for the things he had done. I could see he was working the steps, and took my share of the responsibility by saying, "I let you do those things." When I was driving home, I was overcome with a peaceful feeling and a sense of closure.

3. I'm grateful for the beautiful weather we've been having, because I can take my clients to the park for their workouts. Exercise has been difficult and painful for me lately, and the beautiful weather helps me to forget my pain.

4. I'm grateful for the poetry challenges I've been participating in lately, because they've motivated me to start writing again. Yea!

Out of Control Dream/Dreamwork

2008-11-07T09:57:00.001-08:00

Out of Control

Today, my mother is scheduled to die.
She will swallow a lethal dose of poison.
Her begging for death, her plans and schemes,
have finally paid off. She will join my father at last.
Before she goes, I want to race to the nursing home
to say goodbye, to say "I love you." But the roads are snowy
and slick. A good foot of snow, packed to ice in spots.
As I turn to the left, up a long hill, the car slides
backwards, faster and faster, slipping into the left lane.
I panic, stab wildly around with my foot, can't find the brakes.
Cars fly past on both sides. I slide out of control,
can't even steer into my own lane. Finally,
I find the brake, pump it enough to slow the car, and start
back up the long hill toward my mother's death.
I am afraid I'll be late. She'll already be gone
and all my love and goodbyes will stay unspoken,
sticking in the throat of my heart like tears.

Mary Stebbins Taitt
081107-1225-1b; 081107-1st

This is a dream I had this morning. To honor the dream and request further dreams, I have made it into a poem.

When I write my dreams down, I do it in the first person present. By doing so, I discover things about myself and my current situation. For example:

I want to say goodbye to my mother. I am afraid I won't get to say goodbye. My mother died in January 2007. I was not with her when she died. I feel sad about this. I cried about it a little this morning. I think every time I revisit it, and cry a little, I am healed a little.

I am out of control. I can't find the brakes. My life often, if not always feels out of control. I think this is my addictions speaking through me. My ADHD makes me always behind on everything, all the time. I feel overwhelmed on the best of days.

I am afraid I will be late: I try really hard not to be late, and sometimes I succeed and sometimes I don't. ADHD again.

I am sliding backwards. Backsliding. I am gaining weight again and the holidays are approaching. I need to get my eating under control before the holidays get here!!!

I am going the wrong way. I am in the wrong place. This is certainly true because I am gaining weight, I also need to look at other ways where I am in the wrong place at the wrong time. I want to get myself headed int he right direction.

I believe dream messages mean more than one thing--it's the subconscious's way of communicating with the conscious mind. I believe we can heal and grow by paying attention to our dreams. And I want to heal and grow. Writing a poem from my dream is one way of dealing with it. Doing art is another.

Mom, I love you and miss you! Goodbye, beloved Mom, Godspeed on your soul journey. Say hi to Pa! I love you, Miss you! Goodbye!

OK, what is the right place? Where do I want to be? I want to turn it over, and listen for instructions. Meanwhile, here is where I think I want to be:

lean and healthy and addiction free (one day at a time)
happy and cheerful, enthusiastic, loving, engaged
in the bosom of my nuclear family and with friends
be creative
working on my writing and art projects in an organized way so that I can bring them to fruition: Geraldine, Sissy, The woman who loved weeds etc.
Moving toward being organized and tidy (reasonably so)
continue on my healing journey toward radiant good heal inside and out. LOL!
find a balance that pleases me. Release being such a taskmaster to myself!

What steps to I need to take to get there? One day at a time, easy does it.

get back on track with my eating
get enough sleep (order a blue light, stop staying up late!)
make a friend locally. Nurture love and family, friends.
continue working on my creative projects, but don't overdo it on any one day.
avoid switching projects until one is complete, if possible! (Also hard for me)
Work out an organizational plan that will work for me. (This has proved very hard.)
work on Twelve &, wings challenges etc. (get into schedule/routine.)
Try to relax a little about all this. Work at it EASY DOES IT, ONE DAY AT A TIME!

I'm feeling guilty writing all this because I have so much else to DO!!! DANG! OK, enough for now!

2008-11-05T19:48:00.000-08:00

I was going to work on a gratitude list today, but I worked on this poem instead. It's inspired by the plight of that poor child that was raped and then stoned to death for adultry. I know Mary was deeply affected by this story as well. As I post this, I can think of two things I'm grateful for. One, that when I was raped at the age of 13, I lived here and not the Middle East. And two, that she no longer has to live in such a barbaric society.

I'm also grateful for feeling better emotionally, and for being inspired to write again.

Abundance and Gratitude

2008-11-05T09:01:00.001-08:00

I was just rereading Carla's Wings for You post on Abundance and Gratitude. I haven't got much time, but to counteract the down feeling I have from admitting one of my faults, a touch of shame, I thought I would do a quick gratitude list:

1. I am grateful today that Obama won--I know not everyone is, but I am.
2. I am grateful for a warm sunny day (with impending winter to remind me to be grateful!).
3. I am grateful for the beauty of fall colors and the ability to
enjoy that beauty.
4. I am also grateful for:

my husband

my children

my friends

their health

my relative health

the life of my friend Donna who recently passed, her sense of humor,

our friendship

trees

birds

flowers

seasons

an opportunity to write

a twelve-step item: lies

2008-11-05T08:41:00.001-08:00

I told BB a little story the other day that I was immediately wishing I had not told him. It was the story of how I lied to a person who was very forgetful, telling her she had told me to do what I was doing. I did it in self-preservation, but that didn't make it right. Now I worry BB, who is also forgetful, will think I do that to him. I do not, though I have to admit, I have considered it.

It was wrong to lie. I know why I did it, I did what I thought I "had" to do. Sigh. But it was still wrong.

I do not want to write more about it for fear the person in question will recognize herself if she stumbles on this site. I probably should "make amends," but not necessarily by being honest about it. Yr not 'sposed to make amends if doing so would cause harm, and I think that would. I need to do something nice for the person in question, or for someone like her.

I am doing step 5 by admitting this to you and God. Step nine I have to do, too. This is also step ten, since I've already done more than one inventory--it's a continuing to take personal inventory and when you were wrong, promptly admitted it step. I was wrong. WAHN!

I hate being wrong, but I was.

default options

2008-11-05T08:15:00.001-08:00

I am trying to train myself to make my automatic choices the right ones. We tend to form habits and the habits have energy and want to repeat themselves. I want to make my habits good ones. I want to:

eat right
exercise regularly
sleep well (if I can)
avoid addictive behaviors and substances
be grateful
seek help
come here regularly!

One Day at a time

2008-11-02T20:59:00.001-08:00

Sometimes, I feel as if I am not making any progress and I need a
friend to help set me up and my feet and point me in the right
direction.

"Thank you for being a friend."

Humility

2008-10-30T10:30:00.000-07:00

I ran into an old friend the other day. One I hadn't seen in years. It was so good to see her, because she knew me when my husband was still alive, and had fond memories of me as a spiritually minded person. I've never thought of myself in that way, so it was very encouraging. Then she said something interesting to me. She said that when my husband died, I had a nervous breakdown. She said, "I know you, you weren't the same, and you were too proud to ask for help."

This spoke volumes to me, although I should not have been surprised. Right after his death I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, and as this blog will testify, my inability to ask for help is nothing new to me. Still, I never thought of myself as proud or having a nervous breakdown, just insecure and emotionally unstable in general.

I started thinking about pride. Right now, I'm really struggling with trusting in God to help me out of this mess I've gotten myself into. I've always just found my own way out, which is what has gotten me to where I am now. I think I've talked about my trust issues, due to abuse, before in this blog. The ones closest to me usually let me down, so I would just take on everything alone. It took a couple of years to learn how to trust my husband. So when my friend said, "and you were too proud to ask for help", my immediate reply was, "I didn't know how."

This is also about control, and the need to have control stems from pride. Right now, I feel like everything is out of control. This is insecurity. Proud people are insecure. We rely on our pride for security. Really though, nobody ever truly has control. We're deluding ourselves if we think we do. This is what Adam and Eve did. They wanted control. They didn't want God telling them what to do. If I keep trying to take control of my life, then I'm going against God's will for me. I have to learn how to give up control and to trust Him. You have to be humble to learn how to trust.

God gave me my husband to teach me. I trusted him, and didn't worry about giving him control of things, because I knew that even if he screwed up, he'd make things right, because he loved me. So does God, and he won't die or screw things up. Humble people know love - real love. Humble people have the strength to overcome their insecurities. I used to admire my husband's strength, and wish I could be more like him. He was not an insecure man. If I could learn to trust him, although being imperfect, then surely I can learn to "turn my will and my life over to the care of God as I understand Him."

The Hangover From Hell

2008-10-30T09:28:00.000-07:00

A couple of Saturdays ago, my sister had a reception to celebrate her marriage [she eloped]. Caught up in all the festivities, I drank four glasses of wine. Granted, it was two more than I usually do, but it was over a period of seven or eight hours, which included dinner and dancing. I was sick for three days! Now, I did not stumble, vomit, pass out, or have memory blackout at any time during the evening. In fact, I can remember everything, and although I remember having a good time, I did not have enough fun to warrant a three day hangover. On Sunday, my brains sloshed so bad that I could not sit vertical without getting sick to my stomach. I was forced to remain horizontal for most of the day. Even on Wednesday, my eye lids still felt like lead balloons. To apply any pressure was painful. The worst part, though, was those day after voices that stab you all over with insecurities, telling you how stupid you are. I prayed that God help me to never drink again, because I well know that even though those voices are the most painful part, they are the easiest to forget.

The hard part is that I don't usually get sick like this when I drink, only every once in a while, and then I won't drink again for months, sometimes years. The last time this happened, I had kidney problems and went for about four months before having a drink again. It starts out slowly with only a drink or two socially, occasionally, maybe once every other week. It doesn't affect me, so after a while, I let my guard down; usually on a special occasion like this, where family comes in town, then we drink a couple of nights in a row, and I get sick. It causes my RA to flare up and joints to hurt, exasperates my chronic fatigue, screws up my kidneys, and drives my sugar levels crazy. The worst part is emotional, and what it does to my self esteem. It's obviously a problem.

So, I'm admitting that this problem has become unmanageable, and that I need God's help in avoiding alcohol.

Easy-Does-it Sick Day #2

2008-10-03T10:58:00.001-07:00

I'm still sick, but I am incrementally better than yesterday—YAY!

I was able to stand up in the bathroom after my shower and brush and braid my hair. Yesterday, I had to lie down as soon as I got out of the shower. So that's an improvement.

I still feel incredibly tired. I feel as if a gallon of coffee and a box of dark chocolate truffles might help. But they would only make me feel worse later, so I am not caving. No coffee, no chocolate, I hope.

I am simply going to take it easy. One minute at a time.

It takes three to four days to clear the system of 75-90% of toxins and tiredness (assuming sleep in the meantime), and ten days to clear it entirely. I am hoping in a few days to be able to function relatively normally and resume my regular daily activities.

Easy does it, a twelve-step Slogan, reminds us to be gentle with ourselves and not burden ourselves with more than we can handle. We try to approach life in a relaxed manner while taking responsibility for living in the solution. Things have a way of unfolding when we are willing and patient.

EASY DOES IT! I need to hear that. And--DO IT!

An Easy-Does-it Sick Day or Four

2008-10-02T10:27:00.001-07:00

What does it mean when someone with a chronic disease who works from
home decides to take a "sick day?"

I have fibromyalgia and with it, chronic fatigue. I am feeling
exhausted, depressed, and overwhelmed.

I always feel exhausted, depressed and overwhelmed. I am always sick.
But I still have my ups and downs and right now, I am having a down.
It's from the traveling, which is very hard on me.

I've decided I'm taking some "sick leave." I will get "paid" for it,
too, just as much as I always get paid: nothing at all. Well,
nothing for my labor. I do have a small income. And BB has one. The
pay, however, is not the point.

The point is, I am totally overwhelmed, sick and unable to cope. The
chronic fatigue that comes with fibromyalgia is getting the better of
me. I had 8 days of rain, soakings, insufficient sleep and bad food.
It's caught up with me. And I have too much to do.

I always have more to do that I have time to do it, more to do that I
have the energy to do. And there is guilt associated with that. I
feel as if I "should" be getting more done.

But STRESS is one of the major exacerbators of fibro and chronic
fatigue and it stresses me out that I feel guilty about not getting
enough done--and then I feel angry and resentful at everyone who I
imagine is judging me for my "laziness." "Walk a mile in my shoes," I
want to shout at everyone, because I am under the impression that no
one knows or understand what it feels like inside me with the pain and
exhaustion, because if they DID understand, they wouldn't expect so
much.

But--how CAN they understand when I live with it every day and I don't
understand. Why can't I function like a normal human being and get
more done? I must be lazy and if I am lazy, I must be BAD! That's
what I think about myself when I'm like this, and that's what I
imagine everyone else thinks.

But is someone with cancer or diabetes BAD because they have cancer or
diabetes? I don't think so. While some lifestyle choices may
contribute somewhat to either of those conditions, they are diseases
that are largely beyond the control of the sufferer--and so is chronic
fatigue, at least at this point. Though my choice to travel and the
subsequent choices that followed from that contributed to my current
state, am I supposed to remain sequestered and never move? NO! I
don't think so. Already my condition keeps me from a number of things
I'd like to do.

OK, so I am sick, genuinely sick, today. And I will be, probably, for
several more days. This is why I am taking some sick days.

So, what do I then mean by this? I am going to try to take it easy.
I am going to try to lower my expectations as to what I can accomplish
today and for the next few days. And, I am going to try to not beat
myself up when in fact, I accomplish little and was secretly still
hoping against hope to accomplish more. I am going to try to take
time to rest and relax. I hope to sit and simply rest from time to
time, and maybe even lie down. Something I rarely do (even at night,
LOL!).

I am feeling guilty also for feeling sad and depressed about my
condition--I've had it put into perspective because a person who was
once a very close friend and also a sister-in-law and is still
numbered among my dear friends has an aneurism and stroke and I
haven't heard any more, but I hope she's going to recover. I'm
frightened for her, and for myself, and for all of us. Stroke is
terrifying, can be fatal, can render one unable to talk or eat or
move. And I know little about what is going on with her, so I am very
afraid. Worried and beyond worried.

Even with the perspective that her condition is so much worse, and
that I at least am alive and able to function somewhat, I am still
suffering and overwhelmed. I am still taking some sick days. I need
them!

Life is short and could come to a sudden end at any time. Or be
irrevocably changed. I need to take the best possible care of myself,
and I need to start NOW--with a sick day. This day right here.
Today. Easy does it.

"Easy does it" is one of the slogans of the 12-steps, and it is one I
keep forgetting to practice. EASY DOES IT. One day at a time.

I am crying now, because I am so hard on myself. No one can tell,
probably, because I am such a failure. But I work SO hard at what I
think I should be doing. I need a little more EASY DOES IT before I
stress myself out of existence. Today. Now. Sick. Rest. Relax.
Easy Does it.

Mary, Thursday, October 02, 2008, 1:49 PM

The Zen Backpack

2008-08-25T19:14:00.001-07:00

This is from a Wings 4 you challenge called Zen Suitcase. I made a
"Zen backpack." It's all the stuff I want to take with me into my new
improved life: my husband, love, happiness, paintbrushes, camera and
books, my manuscripts, and the paper dolls represent friends and
family. LOVE, yeah love. The backpack is the pot of gold at the end
of the rainbow, the dubloons represent abundance of all good things,
LOL! Ink and colored pencil with gesso and Wite Out for white.

The books represent books of healing, books of learning, and all the
books I want to write and illustrate.

Links

2008-06-30T21:28:00.000-07:00

I'm adding some links to our list in the side bar that I think people will find interesting. The first is Isabella Mori's blog Change Therapy. She's a counsellor with a lot of useful information on the 12 steps and eating disorders. The other is Peggy Collins' Help Is Not A Four Letter Word, where you can get free information on how to ask for help.

Enjoy :]

Grateful

2008-06-25T15:37:00.000-07:00

I am so grateful for the 17 years I had with my husband. When I first met my husband, I was 19 years old, and had just ended a five year abusive relationship. It sounds funny to say that now. How many 19 year olds have been in a five year relationship? At the time, though, it didn't seem strange. I dated him off and on through high school, and lived with him for a year, but it took several years to get over him. My husband helped me through it.

He was a patient man, who listened to me. He was 30 when we started dating, and he said that he knew right away that I was the one for him. I guess he was old enough to know what he wanted. I still had some growing up to do, so he waited patiently for me [a couple of years] to realize that he was the best thing that ever happened to me.

At first the relationship was awkward to me, and I was very insecure. I was so used to being put on a pedestal and then shot down, which is common in abusive and co-dependent relationships. He wasn't emotionally dependent on me, and it was difficult for me to understand why he was with me. He helped me to finally realize that he didn't need to be with me, he just really wanted to be with me. When I understood this, my life changed.

He was my best friend. We could tell each other anything. Nobody has ever known me, or loved me as much as he did. Not even my parents. With him, I learned self respect, and how to see myself as worthy of love. To him, I was special, even when we reached that phase in our marriage where we were in a rut and taking each other for granted. I could tell him I was bored, and he didn't get defensive or judgemental. We worked together to make our marriage more interesting and find new things to do as a couple.

We spoke the same love language. We both showed our love by being there and listening. All he ever wanted from me was for me to be home when he got home from work, to listen to how his day went, and to be on his side supporting him. He didn't care if the house was a mess or that there was no dinner. An hour or so of venting about work and a good back scratch, and he was happy. In return, he was always understanding of my depression, and never judgemental.

He wasn't perfect, though, and had his faults. He was messy. Ok, he was a slob. Sometimes, I would just give up cleaning up after him. I learned to live with that. He also wasn't very out going or social. As long as he had me around, he was inclined to be a hermit. To outsiders, he seemed grouchy, but to the people who knew him, he was laid-back and easy going. Everybody that knew him liked him. It was easy to overlook his imperfections and occasional grouchiness.

I have never met anyone that I've had more respect for. He was honest, hard working, and principled. He gave each job his best, even when the pay was little. A trait that was important to both of us. He had quite a reputation of respect in his industry. When a company had a job they couldn't fix, they would call whatever company he was working for at the time. He was proud of his reputation, but I was more important to him than his career, and he would always put me first.

As a result, I centered my life around him. I had no idea how dependent I had become on him until after he died. I trusted him completely, and didn't worry about him leaving me. On June 30th 2001, he died from a heart attack. He previously had no sign of heart trouble. I could not believe he was gone. It didn't seem real to me. Yet, there must have been a part of me that feared this, because I remember telling him once regarding his smoking, that I did not want to become a widow before I was 40. Now, seven years later at the age of 42, I find that I'm still lost without him.

What I miss most since he's been gone, is having him to talk to. Part of what I was learning when we were going through that "boredom" phase of marriage, was that I needed to find myself again as an individual rather than as a couple, and not be so dependent on my husband for happiness and purpose. This process was much easier when I could talk to him about it.

So, why am I so grateful? Most of the people around me are carrying some pretty hefty scars from their past relationships and marriages. I can't imagine going through what I'm going through today without ever having known the love, trust, and respect my husband showed me. Because of him, I know what a healthy relationship should be like, and how to love myself. He gave me the opportunity to see myself through his eyes, and no one can take that away from me.

The picture above is a T-shirt design that I made for him when we were first married, and I was working a printing company. He wore that T-shirt out.

The twelve steps and forgiveness

2008-06-20T12:45:00.001-07:00

I just wanted to mention that the very effective twelve step programs
that helps so many alcoholics, gamblers, drug users and overeaters
deals more with forgiveness than any other issue.

Twelve Steps

1. We admitted we were powerless over
alcohol/drugs/food/gambling/other people(etc)—that our lives had
become unmanageable.

2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore
us to sanity.

3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of
God as we understood Him.

4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact
nature of our wrongs.

6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.

8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to
make amends to them all.

9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to
do so would injure them or others.

10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong
promptly admitted it.

11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious
contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of
His will for us and the power to carry that out.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we
tried to carry this message to others, and to practice these
principles in all our affairs.

4-10 have to do with forgiveness, more than half, as does step 12,
which is to contue working the steps above. Being "restored to
sanity," has in large part to do with giving and receiving
forgiveness. (And of course, confession is such a large part of the
Catholic Church.)

Sunflower, first section

2008-06-20T12:36:00.001-07:00

I have finished reading The Sunflower, just the first section of the book with Simon Wiesenthal's story. I cried a lot. Strangely, perhaps, I did not cry at all during most of the early book. I cried when he began to truly struggle with his memories and with forgiveness. I cried hard and loud and luckily was alone.

I also read one of the responses, the one from the Dali Lama. I have to say I found it a bit alarmingly pat, annoyingly so. I guess there was so much soul searching going on by Simon that I felt a pat-seeming answer was inappropriate. Somehow disrespectful. (I often feel that way when leaving comments on people's blogs who have exposed their souls, and I can only say, now now, don't worry, everything will be fine.)

But nothing will be fine, or, everything will be fine in the sense only that there is some perfection in imperfection.

I have struggled all my life with issues of forgiveness, but this book brings up larger issues than the ones I have previously deeply considered.

Are there unforgivable sins or wrongs?

Does anyone have the right to forgive on behalf of someone else or a group?

Are there times when forgiveness is actually wrong?

I always thought that forgiveness was always right, but that it was
just terribly hard to do in some cases.

I heard on NPR recently about a case where the parents of a girl who
was murdered somewhere in Africa has helped the murderer and now
consider him like a son.

I have a hard time imagining myself able to do something like that, or
even that it was the right thing to do. I was very upset and confused
when I heard the story.

Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord. Clearly, we are not to take
revenge against others. And for Christians, Jesus died on the cross
so that our sins would be forgiven.

Which brings me to another personal story. This is a sort of weird
story and one that some people have reacted badly to, so I am a little
afraid to tell it, but I guess I will, since I seem to feel compelled
to do so.

First, a little background. My father was an atheist. He was raised
Catholic, but did not believe on God. My mother was an agnostic and
talked more and more about God, or the possibility of God, as she
aged. (This annoyed some of the other atheists in our family.) We
lived in a small community, and my parents liked to sing, and the only
opportunity for singing there was the church choir. We went to church
and my parents sang in the choir and we went to Sunday School.

When I was in high school, I was baptized and confirmed in the
Presbyterian Church. A few years later, I repudiated the Church and
God and became an atheist/agnostic. Confused, basically. I remain
confused, lo these many years later. I am of two minds, a scientific
mind that says life ends when we die, period, and a hopeful, questing
mind that seeks belief. I have tried many forms of religion over the
years and have been unsatisfied with each and all of them.

Maybe about ten years ago, or so, I was sitting in the little park in
front of the museum where I worked. It was evening, and I had had to
work late. I was alone, having my dinner break before returning to
work. I had been reading. The park and streets were full of people,
a small band was playing nearby. I stopped reading, looked around,
and closed my eyes briefly.

I was not asleep. I could hear a man talking on the phone (a pay
phone near me--this was before cell phones were so prevalent). I
could hear people talking on the other side of me, and people coming
and going.

Suddenly, Jesus was standing in front of me. I was not entirely
pleased and said something to him that would sound sarcastic and
disrespectful to a true believer, but I was not a true believer. I
said, "What are you doing here?" He smiled. He communicated to me
directly in my mind, like a conversation, only silent. He gave me to
know that he had been out on the desert fasting, praying and
meditating. That seemed appropriate to me, as I did a lot of that
myself. A connection, or sorts. Grains of sand clung to his skin. I
could see every hair and pore on his skin. He was deeply tanned and
nearly naked. He told me, very clearly, more than once, that I was
his, that I belonged to him, forever. That I was forgiven, now and
forever.

I think of that moment, sometimes, when I feel unloved and unworthy.
When I feel that I have done something bad, something unforgivable, I
remember that I am forgiven. At least by him.

Other times, I dismiss it as a hyopnogogic/dream or wishful thinking.
But I was fully awake and had not been wishing (consciously) for Jesus
and was not even pleased to see him! I did not consider myself to be
a Christian.

I still do not believe in God, not entirely, anyway. I do not attend
church and do not consider myself to be a Christian, exactly. But I
continue to find solace in the notion of my being forgiven.
Continuously, forever.

I have not succeeded in forgiving myself or other people I need to
forgive, with some exceptions, and I have not asked for forgiveness
from all the people whom I have wronged. I believe this is important
work and that I need to do it. Being forgiven by Jesus that night
does not excuse me from doing the important work of forgiving and
asking forgiveness. But it gives me a sense of peace and courage,
sometimes, when facing traumatic forgiveness issues in my life.

As an abuse survivor and very human and flawed person, I have lots of
personal forgiveness issues both in giving and receiving forgiveness.
But I have had little intimate experience, thank God, with the horrors
of genocide, war, and so on that Simon speaks of, or the incredibly
difficult choice he was given. I cannot answer what I might do, at
this point, or what even is right. I have to start all over to
consider these questions.

I keep wanting to believe that forgiveness is always right. But
torture? Murder? Rape? Inflicted terrible sufferings to total
innocents--children, the aged? If you forgive the perpetrator, what
about the victim?

The Dali Lama urges forgiveness and compassion. I want to agree with
him. Jesus said, love thine enemies. He didn't mean hug them and kiss them or have sex with them.

What did he mean? He meant compassion, forgiveness, understanding.

When someone hurts me, it takes me a while to reach the point of being
able to forgive--even small injuries.

Simon was still being hurt, and was in imminent danger. He was living
in fear and numbness. It's much easier to forgive from a distance,
much harder to forgive while immersed in pain. Closer to home, should
a woman who is in an ongoing abusive relationship forgive her husband
who is still beating her? As he is kicking her, should she forgive
him?

The Bible says, turn the other cheek. But that is easier said than
done, and may not be safe for the woman in question. I knew a woman
who was a very nice sweet lovable, kind woman, and very forgiving.
She kept forgiving her husband for striking her. Over and over, she
forgave him. He killed her. Killed her dead. Now she is gone.
Confusing.

I still think forgiveness is the right thing to do--but get safe
first, if possible.

I think I am rambling here. I think personal forgiveness is right.
It's what I believe in.

Forgiving for a group in a situation like Simon describes, that's a
little harder. No, it's a LOT harder. I still think I believe in
forgiveness. But could I do it, in that situation? Probably not.

Here's what I think. Each person is an individual. One cannot hold
the SS guy (Karl) responsible for all the sins and wrongs and horrors
of all the SS. Only for what he personally has done, and then you
have to look at the extenuating circumstances. You have to be able to
walk a mile in his shoes. We can't do that well. That's why the
Bible says, "Judge not, lest ye be judged." It's not our job to
judge. We cannot know, truly know, what is in the heart of another.

Can you forgive without making a judgment? Do you have to believe
that the person is "worthy" of being forgiven? Who makes that choice?
Can you forgive without it? I think yes. Personally you can,
anyway. You have to. For yourself.

Who do we forgive for? Ourselves or for others? Or both? I think both.

WOW! I could go on and on and on about this, but I have other things
to do, so I am just going to stop for now. [All this relates to steps 4-10 and 12, which deal with wrongs and righting wrongs and forgiveness!]

(photo by me, mary taitt)

to-do (first things first)

2008-06-19T10:31:00.001-07:00

I am still cogitating about my to-do list. I am unsatisfied with it
and with how I view it.

Priorities. What ARE they, really? Is making a piece of art a
legitimate use of time or an escape from what I should be doing? Who
defines art? I spent several days workingon this--was it worth the
time? What makes something worthwhile. I keep wondering.

A personal story (steps 4-10)

2008-06-18T20:48:00.001-07:00

I received my book, The Sunflower, On the Possibilities and Limits of

Forgiveness. I have begun to read it, but life has been busy and I
haven't gotten very far yet.

I wanted to share a personal story.

I don't have time to write it all right now. But since I don't know
when I will, I will write some of it.

My first husband, let us call him PIUS, used to to beat me. He was
physically abusive and hurt me frequently. He was also emotionally
and spiritually abusive, controlling and sometimes mean. I used to
run away and he would find me and hit me over and over. These words
do not begin to tell what terror I lived in. He told me if I left
him, he would come and find me and kill me, and I believed him and was
afraid to go.

A few years ago, he wrote and asked if I would forgive him.

My first impulse was to say no. How could I forgive what he had done?
He not only physically, emotionally and spiritually hurt me, but he
affected how I view men, and the relationships I am able to have with
them. I am still "damaged" by our marriage and the way he treated me.

I told him I would think about it.

Late I told him I would try to forgive him.

But while I was reading the book, I felt driven to truly forgive him.
I wrote and asked him to forgive me for my part in our troubles,
wondered if I had already asked, and told him I forgave him.

This is what he said:

"You never asked, No.
We were young and foolish. I never didn't forgive you and
never held it against you.

I always felt bad about the things I did. Like stopping you from chanting
NamYoHoRengekyo which I have been doing since
1981. And many other things which were almost unforgivable and took
many years to grow out of.
Thank you and please accept my most sincere apologies for the
hurt, disregard, disrespect and anguish."

I feel a great sadness, I feel tears, and I feel lighter. But this has been many years in coming. I was 19 then. I am 62 now.

Forgiving and asking forgiveness is part of the work of the twelve steps. It is hard hard work, but the results are worthwhile! If you are interested in joining a group on forgiveness, please let me know!

Writing My Way Out of Depression

2008-06-16T22:53:00.000-07:00

I've been in a bit of a funk lately, so I'm going to take the advice left here on this blog for me, and try writing my way out of it. This was my day yesterday:

There is no peace in my mind. Nothing eases the heavy brown smog that clogs every crevice of my life. When I wake, I'm overwhelmed with the sense that my heart just stopped, because there is no reason for it to continue beating. I gasp for air as consciousness stabs my brain, sucking in the musty gloom that I long to escape when I sleep. I lay in bed exhausted, tired of searching for a reason to get up every morning and finding none. Finally, getting up, because I have to, I pray for something to spark the tiniest shred of motivation within me, so that the day will be bearable.

I try to eat breakfast. Nothing tastes good. I force it down anyway, knowing my depression will get worse if I don't. I turn on the computer to post a poem I wrote the other day, but I'm tired, and don't feel like typing it. I decide to work on a picture to go with it, instead. I spend hours on it, but it doesn't excite me, and neither does the poem, anymore. I'm suddenly struck with the realization that my entire life has been a waste of time. "That's not true!" I argue with myself, but all my accomplishments seem pitiful at the moment, so I lay down to take a nap.

Again, I wake gasping for air, sucking in the "hopeless tape" that automatically starts playing before reality can slap me to my senses. "Stop!" Ok, focus on the feeling and where I feel it physically. The feeling dissipates, but not the thick brown gloom that accompanies it, or the exhaustion. There's only a vague memory of that sinking feeling you get when your heart skips a beat. Affirmations. I need to think of my affirmations quickly. Courage, insight, strength, determination... I go through my list, but they sound ludicrous. For some reason that I can't fathom, tying a plastic bag over my head seems more plausible than any of these affirmations, so I decide to escape into a daydream, where I make it past this phase of my life and go on to accomplish all the things I would like to do with my life. When all else fails, daydreaming keeps me from doing something stupid.

The hours pass like minutes. It's late night, and I've accomplished nothing today. The daydream makes the real world appear dreary, and the real world makes the daydream appear impossible. My vision is severely distorted by brown smog, and I'm too tired to fight it. But, I've survived the day, and tomorrow's another day.

The last line was my positive thing for the day, and my gratitude list. I did better today. Work helped get me through. My gratitude list for today:

I survived another day.
My work is not overwhelming.
I wrote this.
I found this picture that I did a while ago and forgot about, but seems to fit.

The Girl with the Curl

2008-06-09T07:52:00.000-07:00

There Was a Little Girl

There was a little girl,

Who had a little curl,

Right in the middle of her forehead.

When she was good,

She was very good indeed,

But when she was bad she was horrid.

-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I used to hear this a lot as a child, and also this one:

Mary Mary, quite contrary

how does your garden grow?

It was the quite contrary part my mother or father was referring to, of course.

Someone called me a drama queen. I was always accused of exaggerating, and I probably did. And do. But I also think I feel and experience things more deeply than other people do. I wear my heart on my sleeve, but also my laughter, my pain, my tears, my anger, and everything else.

I am "oversensitive." But you can't just tell someone who is oversensitive to "get over it," and expect them to suddenly be normal. I can't switch it on and off. It seems to be hardwired into who I am.

The reason I am writing this is because I read somewhere that bright lights help you reset your biological clock AND my doctor Muna Beeai suggested that I get a "blue light" for depression and insomnia. I haven't done so yet. But what I've been doing is going outside and sitting in the sun for 20 minutes when I first get up--I do my exercises, meditate, draw, paint, read, whatever. But this morning, my quiet neighborhood is suddenly transformed into Busytown!!! I sat in the backyard which is usually really quiet and peaceful--and cherish, truly cherish, peace and quiet--and there was ll this banging, crashing, sawing, hammering, loud radios, cell phones, yelling vices. A team of carpenters is putting a new roof on the neighbor's house. So I went out front. There was a crew of people working on the road and another wheeling wheelbarrows full of dirt to another neighbor's yard. Construction come home!

I am very sensitive to load noises; they really disturb me. The vacuum cleaner sends me into paroxysms of panic, and has since I was very young. It's worse if soemone else is doing it--I can deal with it better if I am doing it.

BUT. not much better, which is an issue for me. I tried to sit it out and ignore it, but I was getting tenser and tenser. Soon my shoulders were up around my ears and starting to HURT. I had to give it up and go inside. I can still hear the pounding and sawing in here, but not so intensely.

So, I am contrary, oversensitive, easily disturbed. Sometimes horrid. And loving, cheery, intelligent and creative. AK!

Leaping from the Mire

2008-06-08T17:52:00.001-07:00

"One cannot leap from the mire. We shall take time to lay firm ground
to the whole meaning of health again. G.T. Wrench, The Wheel of
Health, p 44

I always wish I could pull myself up by the bootstraps. I want to have
my cake and eat it, too, and still be thin.

I want to be radiantly healthy and live a long happy life but not have
to change anything I am doing because that's too hard.

I want to be lifted from this veil of tears straight up to heaven by
the angels. Of course I mean bypass death and dying and just be
completely happy. And not lave to leave behind the people I love.

This world is hard. I have it easy, I know I do, and it is still hard.

ONE DAY AT A TIME, one step toward the thousand mile journey.
Right now, I feel depressed and want to eat something "bad." I know it
will give me a temporary lift, but then I will feel worse than ever.

I'm gritting my teeth. One minute at a time. I want to not eat anything bad.

Food. To be healthy, you have to eat all the right good things in
right good quantities and avoid the bad things. At least if yr me,
you do.

Making THIS DAY a 10 (First things First)

2008-06-07T10:04:00.001-07:00

Nebulous longings for far away things don't help me this day to be
happy and feel a sense of abundance.

SO to make this day a TEN, here's what would help:

1)Work
*revise my two new Geraldine poems and file them (or at least one
of them) (P1)
*scales: Backyard Journal: Peonies (opt)
*examine Frog Haven for a peephole sized project and do it. Save
to thumb drive.
If I only get the first done,it will still be a ten for work.
2)& Fun Recreation:
*I hope that will be a 10 be the festival we hope to attend later.
3)Health, safety
*eat three healthy meals (avoid junk food at festival)
*get enough exercise
*bed by 11:30 PM
*drive safely to festival
4)Personal growth
*time allowing, write more about my goals etc and plan a diet and schedule
*if no time is available for writing (above) do only next
item--that is enough
*stay in the moment and savor at the festival
*see spiritual
5)Physical environment
*pick up, put away, file
*Back burner item: insurance on new house (ask K for info)
6)money
7)Love
*hold hands with HC, sit close to HC at Festival
*hug him
*tell him I love him :-)
8)Friends and family
*time allowing, cards for T & RM
*time allowing, read blogs, BB, N, etc leave comments, return comments
*enjoy festival with K
9)Spiritual
*TC (T'ai Chi), med (meditate), BDG (Ba Duan Jin)
*prayers
*gratefulness

These are all things I can do to help make this day a ten, time allowing.

Other things that would help is good weather (at least not a lot of
rain) for the festival) and no unexpected bad things.

Getting distracted and procrastinating will not add to my well-being
and happiness. THESE are my priorities, starting with eating
healthily and doing my work and loving HC! FIRST THINGS FIRST!

My real to-do list today

2008-06-07T09:43:00.001-07:00

Here's my real to-do list, not very neat, I'm afraid. And a bit overwhelming.

To simplify it, I put a yellow post-it with the three items I need to
do next, and when I have completed those, I move it to the back.

I have to write down ordinary daily things like eat and shower because
if I don't, at 5 PM I wills till be in my PJs. I am very distractable!
(ADHD!) It was different when I had a job outside the home, because
I HAD to stick to a routine.

Sand and Stone

2008-06-06T08:03:00.001-07:00

"Sand & Stone"

Two friends were walking through the desert. At one point, they had an argument; and one friend slapped the other one in the face. The one who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything, wrote in the sand:

"today my best friend slapped me in the face. "

They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath. The one who had been slapped got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but the friend saved him.

After he recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone:

"today my best friend saved my life'

The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked him, 'after I hurt you, you wrote in the sand and now, you write on a stone, why?'

The friend replied 'when someone hurts us, let us write it down in sand, where winds of forgiveness can erase it away. But, when someone does something good for us, let us engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase it.'

This is a forward I got, and it has probably been around multiple times, but I thought it might be relevant to our discussion and shed light on attitudes about forgiveness.

(Photo by me [mary taitt].)

{I have to say that the gap between what I believe and my success at practicing it is very wide.}

Forgiving ourselves and others is a large part of the twelve steps!!!!!

My Wheel of Life (and "Fortune")

2008-06-04T19:23:00.001-07:00

A. On a scale of 0 - 10, how fulfilled am I in the area of Health
and Fitness? 6

If Health and Fitness were a 10 for me, what three things would be happening?

1. __I would weight 130 pounds (or a lot less than I do now!) and
no longer need a CPAP machine (no obesity or sleep apnea)__

2. __I would sleep well (no insomnia)__

3. __My brain tumor would shrink and disappear__

B. On a scale of 0 - 10, how fulfilled am I in the area of Personal Gorwth? 7

If Personal Growth were a 10 for me, what three things would be happening?

1. __I would be deeply satisfied with who I am and be kind to
myself and others_

2. _I would have a satisfying spiritual practice_

3. _I would be a shamanistic dreamer who meditated, LOL and have a
GREAT sense of humor!_

C. On a scale of 0 - 10, how fulfilled am I in the area of physical
environment? 5

If my physical environamnet were a 10 for me, what three things would
be happening?

1. _my house would be clean, neat, tidy and well-organized_

2. _I would live with closer access to nature__

3. __I would be doing more for the environment_

D. On a scale of 0 - 10, how fulfilled am I in the area of work/career? 7.5

If work/career were a 10 for me, what three things would be happening?

1. _I would be focussing on one project at a time and bringing it
to fruition_

2. _I would be sending out Frog Haven__

3. _I would be writing Geraldine poems_

E. On a scale of 0 - 10, how fulfilled am I in the area of money? 8

If money were a 10 for me, what three things would be happening?

1. __I would have office space to work__

2. __I would have studio space to work__

3. __I would have retirement etc all worked out and school for the kid etc_

F. On a scale of 0 - 10, how fulfilled am I in the area of Love and Romance? 9

If Love and Romance were a 10 for me, what three things would be happening?

1. _Hiking Companion and I could talk better with each other_

2. _Hiking Companion wouldn't have to wrk 58-hour weeks_

3. _HC and I would have sex a little more often_

G. On a scale of 0 - 10, how fulfilled am I in the area of Family and Friends? 7

If Family and Friends were a 10 for me, what three things would be happening?

1. _I would see my family and friends in NY more often_

2. __I would make new friends here_

3. __I would like 3 good friends besides HC and time to have time with them_

On a scale of 0 - 10, how fulfilled am I in the area of Fun and Recreation? 8.5

H. If Fun and Recreation were a 10 for me, what three things would be happening?

1. __I would spend more time in nature_

2. __I would do more interesting things; walk in different places_

3. _I would invent a middle of the week simple fun event_

I like this exercise because it gives a nice overview of strengths and weaknesses in the balance of my life. There were a few things I didn't know where to put--mental/emotional health--does that go under health and fitness? Does spiritual growth go under personal growth? Does mental and emotional well-being crossover between health and fitness and personal growth?

I'd like to spend more time thinking about this, but when I spend too
much time blogging, I feel as if I am slighting other things that I
need to do.

This is a WINGS challenge, but I am afraid to try to link it--last time I did that the whole post collapsed and it took me 45 minutes to fix it. Maybe I will try tomorrow, because there are also some things about the post I'd like to fix.

This exercise generates a list--a sort of to-do list based on eliminating dissatisfactions and problems. I would like to compare that list to one generated the normal way. That would be interesting. It has the advantage of being fairly balanced.

Click image to view larger!

Note: This is a wonderful addition to my STEP 4! YAY!

Wings Challenge 11 and 12

2008-06-04T18:37:00.000-07:00

For details on challenge #11 see here

If personal growth were a 10, I would be more satisfied with all the other categories. For the most part, though, I feel like I am doing everything I can to improve this category, and feel that I am growing personally because of it, even if it's not as fast as I would like.

If physical environment were a 10, I'd be living in the Caribbean, or someplace like it with blue water. Anything has got to be better than the muddy brown water here, but I can't complain. I have a roof over my head, and a bed to sleep in.

If career were a 10, I'd be able to support myself. Otherwise, I really like what I do.

If money were a 10, I'd be able to support myself, afford recreation, and be able to save for retirement.

If romance were a 10, I'd have a mate that was patient, understanding, and cared like my husband did. I'm not too worried about that right now, though.

If friends/family were a 10, I'd be able to communicate with my family, and I'd have a real social life like my virtual cyber social life. I'm really happy with the friends I've been making blogging, though.

If recreation were a 10, I'd be scuba diving, walking on a beach, doing fun things with friends, like camping, swimming, etc. Again, I really can't complain, because I have plenty of extra time to do my art, and make occasional trips to the arboretum.

If health and fitness were a 10, I'd be healthy and happy. I work really hard at this, and for the most part, do everything I'm supposed to do, but you wouldn't know it, thanks to my depression and physical illness.

Somehow, I'm supposed to get some short term goals out of this to put on my to-do list, which is the next challenge. As far as I can see, I need to just keep doing what I've been doing, working on personal growth, spiritually for health, and therapeutically for family and career, so I'll have more money, and can afford recreation and a new environment [maybe it will help me to spell that word correctly before posting my picture, too].

How do you to-do?

Challenge 12 asks these questions: [for more info click here]

Do you create a series of lists for long and short terms goals and tasks?
What kinds of things do you schedule?
How do you prioritize?
Do you schedule fun things that are just for you?
How do you keep your list - on a calendar, on your computer, in folders?
What do you do with the items you don't get done?

While I've been faithfully journaling for a year now, I just don't do to-do lists. They overwhelm me, so I just keep them in my head, where they still overwhelm me, but I can ignore them. After reading Carla's post on this subject, I decided that I probably should come up with a better method. My research on this involved asking my sister how she does it. She has an electronic planner where she keeps one work related to-do list, and one personal. Her goal is to do three things on the work list a day based on priority, and three things on the personal list each weekend. At the end of the day, she deletes the ones she accomplished, moves priority to the top of the list, and then moves the entire list to the next day. She says that even if there are more than three priority items to be done, which is usually the case with her job, she still keeps her goal at three. If she does more great. If not, the world won't end. She's very successful at her career, and the people she works for, love her. She puts fun things on her calender, but I don't think they go on her to-do list. Because she's in management, her long term goals are written up on regular reports, so her list consists of mainly short term goals. I think I'll try her 3 goal rule, and see if I don't have a better attitude about my to-do lists.

Assigning value, Intrinsic Value

2008-06-04T15:58:00.001-07:00

Assigning value, Intrinsic Value
Wings Challenge part II

How does one value the activities one engages in? How do you value them so that you can make choices? I keep telling myself, "First things First," but . . . what are those first things? How do you achieve an appropriate balance between work, obligations (family, community, environment), play, rest sleep, eating etc?

For example, I wanted to clarify something I said in the last post. I said that for me, art is play. I am not a professional artist, so when I do art, I do it for fun. I like it so much that I have a tendency to do it when I should be doing other things--like my work, my family obligations etc. I'm 62 years old now, and I STILL feel confused about prioritizing my activities. How can I make a to-do list and prioritize it when I'm not sure how to do that?

I usually make daily lists. I wonder if weekly lists would be better and less intimidating, or actually MORE intimidating, since there would be more on it.

In my fantasy about myself, say five-ten years in the future, I would like to be healthy, vigorous and ORGANIZED! (In a balanced way). I'd make subgoals for it if I knew how.

I think being organized in a reasonable way has intrinsic value. If one isn't organized at least to some extent, one cannot function. One can't find things. One doesn't really know what to do next. So I assign a theoretical high value to it, but I have never made it a priority to learn HOW to do it. To actually MAKE it the priority it deserves to be. In areasonable and balanced way. I don't want to be one of those neat freaks.

I would like my house to look like a relaxed, backwoods version of Better Homes and Gardens. Ha ha. By this, I mean neat, clean and appealing. Welcoming.

But I need to streamline the process of getting it that way and keeping it that way so I can do my work, sleep, eat, and social relationships, etc. I wonder if that's even possible given the constraints within which I exist. (I feel discouraged about it).

To-do: one thing to make me feel less discouraged. Hmm. I wonder what that would be and when I would do it. Not while blogging about it.

A Big To-do about To-dos

2008-06-04T12:18:00.001-07:00

A Big To-do about To-dos
A Wings Challenge

It is interesting how these Wings Challenges seem to come just when I need them, I am not sure this one is going to give me any answers, maybe just questions to look at.

I just had a big birthday. All birthdays are big, in a sense. But this one seems somehow bigger. I am now officially, in this area anyway, a senior citizen and a crone. I am 62. I get discounts now, and I get constipated. I get fat easily and don't have as much energy as I use to. I'm a lot more forgetful and more disorganized. I didn't want to look 20 years ahead in case I might be dead or dying. My parents both died at 83 and weren't doing to well at 82! I want to be different. I want to live longer than that. But there is no guarantee that I will with my genetic time bombs ticking. I have a brain tumor, a meningioma, same one that essentially killed my Mom.

Does any of that have anything to do with my to-do lists and priorities? You bet.

First on my to-do list? Take good care of myself.

First to be ignored? Exactly that, way too often.

I get tired, I get stressed, I do stupid things. Unwise things.

So, how do I organize my priorities? Very poorly, but I keep trying! Maybe I should mention that I also have ADHD! AK!

I have tried many systems and read many books on "getting organized" and have tried over and over and always failed. (A fourth step note: I am very disorganised!)

Here are some of the things I've tried:

notebooks of lists. Sometimes, this works well, until I lose it in a heap of $#|^! (otherwise know as piles of unsorted stuff or archaeological dig sites.) I've tried both loose leaf and spiral notebooks to keep lists in. Each has its advantages.
I keep lists on my computer
I keep lists on-line
I keep lists at my yahoo calendar
I keep lists in my journal
I keep lists in my PDA
I write notes to myself on scraps of paper and promptly lose them,or some of them.
I keep lists in my head. This works very poorly as I promptly forget anything but the most appealing items.
I sometimes make lists for my husband and son--they aren't very task oriented sometimes. But it's not up to me to take their inventory. But things need to be done. Sigh.

OK, like I said, I have no answers, only questions. Like HELP! How can I do it better and make it work?

At New Year's and at my birthday and randomly throughout the year, I like to look at how I am progressing toward my goals. Usually not very well, but I've always made some progress. Then I reevaluate my goals, set new subgoals and priorities, and march forward. And promptly get distracted by a variety of mew projects or old projects newly surfacing and rearing their tempting heads. For example, I have multiple books in progress, poetry books, novels, children's novels, children's picture books. One goal is to complete each of these in turn and send them off to publishers. Another goal is to unpack from my not-so recent move. I try to alternate between these tasks, as otherwise I would only play (eg: do art). So I was unpacking a box from my move and found an old manuscript. We were just leaving on vacation and I spent my spare vacation time writing new chapters to this old manuscript rather than working on one of my nearly finished works.

OK, I am not finding any solutions here.

Here are (some of) my goals:

to be as healthy as possible and take the best possible care of myself
to take good care of my mind if possible (my mother had dementia)
to be a loving partner and mother and friend
to finish my novels, poetry manuscripts and other projects in an orderly way and send them out
to create a sense of order and a pleasing environment for myself and my family (that will never happen at the rate I'm going!)

There are (some of the) subgoals to each of these:

eat right (a major problem), get sufficient exercise, sleep well (a major problem for me), rest, play, work in balance
use my mind creatively and for various problems, read, etc
take time for husband, son, friends
do the to-do lists associated with each project, in an orderly as possible way, starting with the ones most nearly completed
unpack and get rid of stuff!, clean and neaten

Of course there are lots of other goals, large and small, and ongoing things always cropping up that have to be factored in like my son's upcoming recitals and graduation, etc. How to organize everything? I have no answers. AK! I tend to feel overwhelmed and unworthy because I cannot seem to be able to orchestrate all this as I feel I should. The evidence of my failure is all around me. The world has expectations of me--and so do I! How does one DO IT?

Simplify simplify simplify? But the world and I keep trying to make things complicated and overwhelming!

First thing on my to-do list: take a deep breath. Change my clothes. Take my son to Piano recital rehearsal. Make dinner. Something healthy. Put one foot in front of the first. Cram some exercise int here. Try to get to bed at a reasonable time. Stop blogging and start working. (Blogging can be just another form of procrastination for me.)

Celebrating small successes, LOL (And KISS)

2008-06-04T09:22:00.001-07:00

4th step note: I tend to be able to complicate anything, no matter how simple.

Take writing thank you notes, for example, for my birthday gifts.
Instead of buying a package of little tank you notes and jotting them
off, and getting back to work, I "have" to paint hand made ones for
each person individually so they will feel truly thanked and
cherished.

It's a slow process and keeps me from FIRST THINGS FIRST--doing my
work, cleaning etc.

But then I get confused about first things. Could creativity and
expressions of love sometimes actually BE the first thing?

When am I procrastinating and when am I doing something important.

Is blogging this, and asking this question just another procrastination?

Perhaps. But the blog could use a little picture. And I am
celebrating another small success--one thank you note completed.
Unfortunately, the mailman came JUST as I was finishing it
(literally!), so it will have to wait until tomorrow to go out.

I have a different way of expressing KISS: Keep it simple, SWEETIE! I can express it very nicely, but can I DO it? Aye, that is the question.

Celebrate Small Successes (Spring at Shangri-La)

2008-06-04T06:56:00.001-07:00

Celebrate Small Successes I am a hard task -master to myself (and sometimes to others, though I don't mean to be.) I have high expectations, at least about certain things. But Sonja Lyubomirsky says, "Celebrate small successes. Celebrate steps along the way." She says, "Make a goal, and then make subgoals, and then, if necessary, subgoals of those. Celebrate each success, small, medium and large."

So, here is one of my goals: to complete and publish the Geraldine manuscripts. This is a cycle of poems about a retarded (brain damaged) girl/woman who I once knew. In order to complete the manuscript, I first have to finish writing all the poems as first drafts, and revise them.

The poems I am attempting to write are about pivotal points in Geraldine's life, as well as some representative daily poems. So, I am celebrating a small success by sharing this early (essentially first) draft of my new poem I just wrote this morning with you.

It is odd to start in the middle of the book, especially at such a pivotal point. So, before you read this poem, which remember, is not done yet, let me know if you would like to read the earlier poems FIRST so as not to spoil the surprise. LOL!

Anyways, I choose to be happy because this one tiny milestone in a vast huge larger project is completed--the first draft of a new poem.

I choose NOT to be discouraged by the fact that there are many more steps to go, but to take ONE DAY AT A TIME and do what needs to be done. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, and I have already taken many steps (though many remain to be taken.)

Spring at Shangri-La (How Geraldine Returns to her Lifework, May 1990)

Aunt Geraldine places a ball of warm fluff in my cupped hand.
Tiny. Cheeping. She beams. In the box, eleven more. Ricky
stands proud at her side. Beaming too. Their faces shine like twin
headlamps in the dim coop. And Ricky, so oddly familiar.
I study him, puzzled. Geraldine adjusts the light
over the box, adds fresh water. Scoops out some messy shavings
and adds new. Slow, deliberate, careful. Chickens again,
her lifework, perhaps. Future eggs for the Home and neighbors.
Future dinners, too. Hard to imagine this mite as dinner.

I follow them out to the garden. Ricky's plot and Geraldine's
lie side by side in the patchwork of resident gardens.
Here is Grandma Ethel's plot, beside Geraldine's, on the other side.
Their three are the neatest. Their three have the most plants.
Tomatoes, squash, peas, beans, carrots. Potatoes. And more.
Lacy leaves, round leaves, hairy leaves. All small and newly
sprouted or planted and watered, from the look of them.
Some of the other plots have nothing but weeds.
Or a few straggly, wilted plants.

I wonder how Grandma Ethel works from her wheelchair
until Ricky confides that Geraldine does all three. He helps.
Sometimes, Grandma Ethel gets pushed out to supervise.
Today, she is inside playing bridge with Marjorie, Ellie,
and other residents. Her memory for card games has survived
her dementia so far. Strange workings of the mind.

Now we head out beyond the gardens. I follow Geraldine
and Ricky follows me. We walk single file down the narrow
path between the long rows of baby corn plants. This row
is well-trodden. They've been here before. Geraldine walks
with amazing grace and spryness for her size. She seems
to be getting younger. The house, barns, coops and woodshed
recede, grow evermore distant, lost in vast flat fields.
The hugeness of space here no longer feels as barren as it did
in snow. We walk and walk. Now through a wheat field. Now
through oats. A field of alfalfa. Another of corn. Woods loom ahead.

Ashes oaks and cherries are bare, maples have tiny leaves.
The forest floor is a sea of trilliums and other wildflowers.
We sit on a glacial erratic to admire them. Aunt Geraldine
and Ricky smile and smile. Sun streams through the tiny leaves
overhead in rays though a faint mist in the trees. I think I hear
the angels again, but perhaps it is only the birds. Geraldine
and Ricky hold hands and look at me shyly. "Al, we want
to get married," Ricky says. "Marjorie says we can, if you let us."

Mary Stebbins Taitt

-------this line and everything below this line is not part of the poem------ 080604-0929-1b (Keith, earlier drafts, in "current work" looseleaf.)

First things FIRST! I need to EAT breakfast. I started this first today.

First things First

2008-05-29T21:28:00.001-07:00

One of the Slogans of the Twelve Step programs is, FIRST THINGS FIRST!

While this is a pretty basic concept, it turns out to be quite difficult for some people, myself included.

I tend to procrastinate doing the important things and waste a lot of time on unimportant things.

For example, I was up until after 1 Am the other night walking because I am required to walk every day and I hadn't done it yet. I hadn't done it becasue I'd been blogging. Which is more important. Walking or blogging. In this case, WALKING was what I should have been doing.

Trying to decide what the first things are or should be is not easy either.

The absolute first things are what I call LIFELINE: breathing, drinking (water), eating (and appropriate food preparation), sleeping (oh-oh!), working (to get money to buy food and shelter), and so on, and then, caring for family, pets, animals, garden--things that will die or become sick etc if not cared for.

After that, there are some somewhat less "necessary" but still very important things: family and friends (balanced social time), creativity, giving back, spiritual times, rest, meditation.

Later, entertainment.

I need to look at the things I do and see where they fit. I waste a lot of time on blogging and playing on the computer and facebook and internet junk that could be put to better use.

But--right NOW--the FIRST thing I need to do is go to bed. And sleep.

4th step items:

I tend to procrastinate.
I waste time on meaningless activities.
I forget the importance of "First things first."
I have trouble sorting out first things. and prioritizing.
I am often easily distracted from my work.

OK, four good things:

I have good powers of concentration once I get going.
I mean well and care.
I have good intentions.
I am creative.
I try.

OK Bed! Sleep! First things! NOW!

Weekly Wings Challenge 10 - Every Day You Write the Book

2008-05-29T12:29:00.000-07:00

The challenge this week is to “revisit a chapter in your life's story that has become heavy baggage”, and then “rewrite the story from the perspective of your present self”. For more details see here.

Problem Child

I was always told that I was a rebellious child. I think of a rebellious child as one whose sole purpose in adolescence is to get back at her parents, a cry for attention, yet I don’t remember ever thinking, “hmm, my dad wouldn’t approve of this; I think I’ll do it just to piss him off.” I was angry with him, yes, but I was also afraid of him. He was very controlling and I felt smothered by him. In my mind, I was not looking to get my parent’s attention. As far as I was concerned, I already had too much. I just wanted them to leave me alone. The last thing I wanted to do was something that would draw more attention. So, for as long as I can remember, I was a quiet, withdrawn child, afraid to be noticed. Quietly rebellious I suppose, because I do recall not trusting my parents, and becoming curious about things I knew they wouldn’t approve of.

My curiosity led to drug use. There’s a story of events that led up to it, that I’ve been writing about, but it’s too long to post here. The short version is that I decided my parents didn’t have my best interest at heart, so I questioned everything. In my opinion, my dad was more concerned about what the neighbors thought, and social status. I felt like he regretted his decision to have children, because we had turned out to be so spoiled rotten, but felt he had to keep up the appearances of a devoted father. He could use all the stuff he bought us as leverage to get us to do what he wanted. Everything had strings attached, and nothing I could do was ever good enough. I hated him.

One summer night, right before my 15th birthday, I went out with my boyfriend, Kenny. He was selling Quaaludes, so we stopped by his friend’s apartment to see if he could sell any. There were a lot of people there getting high. We had just walked into a back bedroom to smoke a joint, when the police raided the place. Kenny threw the Quaaludes under the bed. I knew that would be the first place they’d look. The officer told us that he wanted everybody in the living room while they searched the room. I asked if I could use the restroom, and surprisingly, he let me. When I came out, the room was empty, so I grabbed the Quaaludes and stuffed them down my pants. The police weren’t able to find anything in their search, so they let everybody go except me. I was underage, so they called my parents. The officer talked with my parents a for a while when they arrived to pick me up, telling them about this awful crowd I was hanging around with. In an attempt to scare me, he talked about a youth detention program that was designed to teach kids like me about what prison life was like, and hopefully scare us into straightening up our acts. My dad said, “I think that’s what Lori needs.” The officer looked at me and said, “ what do you think, young lady?” Disgusted with my dad, I replied, “fine with me, I’m not wanted around here.” The officer didn’t know what to say. He looked at my dad, and my embarrassed father said sheepishly, “we’ll take her home.”

I had become manipulative, just like my father. I knew exactly what I was doing when I said that. The words flowed out of my mouth instantly without hesitation. If I was going to some detention center, I was going to get that last little dig in before I went, to humiliate my dad. I really believed what I was saying, but that wasn’t why I said it. I wasn’t looking for pity. I was angry.

The next day, we were supposed to be getting ready for camping on the Guadalupe River. My mom was a mail carrier, and the heat that summer was affecting her heart. She had a series of tachycardia attacks, and we had to take her to the hospital. In the hospital, she had an allergic reaction to the medication that they use to stop the attacks, and it nearly killed her. She recovered and was able to come home that night, so my parents decided that we would still leave in the morning to go camping. It was up to me to get everything packed, because she needed to rest.

I was very upset by the events that afternoon. The thought of losing my mother terrified me, and to make matters worse, I was having similar problems with my heart. I couldn’t say anything, though, because I knew it was from the speed I was doing. I had started doing crystal methamphetamine when I was 13, and quickly discovered that it was very effective in muting the voices of worthlessness. By this time in my life, though, I had been doing so much of it that it started to affect my physically. I didn’t handle stress any better than my mom.

I was feeling overwhelmed, so when I had the camper packed, I asked my dad if I could go for a walk. I just wanted to alleviate some of the stress. He became angry, and probably thought I wanted to go get stoned with friends. We got into an argument, and he accused me of thinking only about myself.

“It’s all your fault, your mother is sick! You did this to her by causing her to worry about you!… Getting calls from the police in the middle of the night! You spoiled brat!”

I stormed out into the backyard, and started kicking my soccer ball against the garage to vent my anger. He followed me out, I think to tell me to go to my room. That’s when I exploded. My one act where I purposely tried to piss my dad off, my defiant rebellion was to call him a fucking bastard. I could hardly believe the words came out of my mouth. Before the reality of this rebellious act set in, I received a blow to the jaw, and saw stars. I knew I deserved that, but felt no remorse. Yes, there was part of me that felt guilty, because I believed my dad when he said that my mother’s illness was my fault, but most of me was angry at him.

My anger raged with no way to vent, like an overheating engine, it was just a matter of time before I froze up. The “block” cracked about a month later after getting strung out on speed. Again, it’s too long to go into detail here, but basically I attempted suicide, and nearly succeeded. I didn’t know what being “strung out” was, and thought I was too weak and worthless to function like normal people. I was hospitalize for the next four months in an adolescent psychiatric unit.

The most important things I learned while I was there, were in family counseling. Things like parents are only human, and make mistakes. My parents were raised by alcoholics. My mother’s mother was abusive. My dad’s mother died of liver failure when he was 19. They didn’t have good examples to go by. They just knew what they didn‘t want to do. Their parents didn’t have much to do with them, and they decided that their children would never have to endure the same. Over bearing and over protective probably seemed preferable parenting methods when compared to the absentee parents that they grew up with.

My dad had always been against therapy in the past, yet they drove 40 minutes down town every Wednesday night after work for our counseling sessions. They had to face things about themselves, that they would have rather not had to face. Other kids parents usually came for the first session or two and then quit. My parents didn’t quit, because, as I finally started to realize, they truly loved me. One day, my dad said to me, “I feel badly for you, Lori, because you are having to learn things at the age of 15, that I’m just now learning at 45.” They were afraid to bring me home. Afraid that they would screw me up again. They felt like failures as parents. I felt sorry for them, and I finally understood what they had been trying to do for me.

It was not the end of my battle with drug addiction or depression, though. I was never treated for a drug addiction while I was there, because I still naively thought that you couldn’t get addicted to speed, so I didn’t really talk about it. I believed as the doctors told me, that I had a chemical imbalance due to genetics. They based that on my family history, and said my mother suffered from depression, as well. What I did get from my four month stay there were the tools I would need to help me with my future battles, and a clear picture of my parents love.

When I looked back at this time in my life and started writing about it, I was surprised by the anger I had back then. I had always thought of myself as a depressed little girl, not angry. I had forgotten about the anger, because I thought those were bad feelings, and l kept them pushed down. The discoveries in the hospital made dealing with that anger even more difficult, because after all, my parents didn’t deserve my anger, they were doing the best they could. Then after leaving the hospital, I was left to raise myself, because my parents were too afraid of “screwing things up again”. A little voice in my head took over the duty of keeping me in line by repeating all the things I heard my dad say growing up, “Stupid!” “Spoiled brat!” I dismissed it as the “chemical imbalance” the doctors told me about. Eventually, I didn’t hear it any more. I would just have unexplained bouts of depression that seem to appear randomly.

Now I’m supposed to write a happy ending to this story. My attempts to become more in tune to my inner voice have exposed me to the insecure feelings created by the misguided voice. I have learned that I need to be retraining it by allowing the feelings to be, not pushing them down anymore, and then focusing on my positive attributes. Easier said than done. When I can catch myself in this form of self abuse, it’s like touching a flame. My immediate reaction is to push it down. Then I stop and think, “ok, why am I thinking this way?” It’s difficult to find an answer, because I’m not really doing anything wrong at the time. I usually find, though, that it happens when I’m doing something I’m unsure about. Then after being able to recognize it’s my insecurity that triggered it, many times I become overwhelmed by it, and can’t think of anything positive. This all takes place in a matter of seconds. If I’m around people when it happens, it gets pushed down and dealt with later.

Add to the mix, the well meaning family members who say judgmentally hurtful things, because they don‘t understand my depression. They believe that saying these things will help me to “snap out of it”. Immediately, the misguided voice chimes in with them, “you’re lazy, wallowing in self pity!” Instead of getting angry with them, I get angry with myself, because after all, they just want what’s best for me, and don’t know any better. They just want things to be the way it used to be when I was able to take care of everything. So do I, but instead of retraining the voice, I keep reinforcing it’s habitual behavior.

That’s what this picture below is illustrating. I did it over a year ago originally for Illustration Friday here. I’ve reworked it a bit, but sadly, it still fits today.

I believe that when I am successful at stopping this pattern of self abuse, I will be able to overcome my depression. The affirmation that I will be able to say then is, “I had the insight and courage to recognize the root of my depression, and the strength and determination to overcome it.” Below will be the new illustration for this story.

“Focus on the good. Do not let the learned behavioral patterns from my childhood overwhelm me.”

The Players

2008-05-19T08:33:00.001-07:00

From Addictions A-Z:

Who are the Players?

The cycle of Addiction and Codependency with alcoholics or any other type of addict requires three main people/groups of people:

The Enablers:
- those who allow /excuse/ finance/ bailout the alcoholic/addict.
The Persecutors:
- those who stir up the pot in order to put the alcoholic/addict on the defense and look for a way out of the pain.
The Victims:
- those who wallow in the excuse that someone is abusing/picking on/insulting/not recognizing their good qualities.

In the normal cycle of addicted relationships the enablers, the persecutors and the victims occupy all these roles at various times and to varying degrees - the fact that all persons switch roles makes it very difficult to assess anything until a crisis occurs.

Hi, I'm Nikki, and I have a problem with addictions.
4th step: I have played all these roles and still do. Sometimes I get stuck in one of them for a while, and lately, I am playing the victim role to some extent. Everyone keeps being mean to poor little me. It seems that way, sometimes, but it is a perceptual thing and I need to work on my perceptions and attitudes. Everyone is just being themselves with their strengths and shortcomings, their issues and tiredness, etc. I tend to be over-sensitive and take things personally. (I have been pretty good lately at getting over perceived hurts a little faster and forgiving sooner.)

The Serenity Prayer

2008-05-19T08:22:00.001-07:00

God, Grant me the Serenity
to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can
and the wisdom to know the difference.

Boy, there is a lot of serenity and wisdom in that Serenity Prayer! I want to change everything to suit myself. I want to play God. But it only makes me bossy, frustrated and agitated! LOL! And I am not all knowing, all wise or all good, so I'm not sure I'd make a good God(dess.)

Things I cannot (or in some cases, should not) change:

the world
other people
some aspects of myself (like my age, hereditary diseases or the shape of my feet.)

Things I can (and in some cases, should) change:

some small portions of the world, through hard work
my relationships with other people, in some cases, by changing MYSELF and my behavior
some aspects of myself. Through much hard work and effort, LOL!

Acceptance is hard. The work of change is hard. But serenity is wonderful!

Blog Your Blessings

2008-05-18T08:05:00.000-07:00

Video by Sandy Carlson

visit Sandy's YouTube channel for more

healing words, wisdom and videos

that are "based on prayers and scripture from various faith traditions."

I copied this post in part from Meeauw

I would like to be part of this blogging your blessings.
It's a good way to express a gratitude list!

Moral Inventory

2008-05-17T13:55:00.000-07:00

I have no motivation or enthusiasm for life. I give up too easily.
I don't focus on the positive enough. I'm too easily overwhelmed by the negative and beat myself up.
I spend too much time escaping. Daydreaming is my new drug, and I tend to isolate myself because of it. Also, I tend to put art before chores and duties, like Nikki, when I can motivate myself to do it.

These character flaws are making it impossible for me to function in life. It affects my ability to focus on my work. It's affecting me physically, leaving me constantly exhausted and aching. It's destroying me financially.

Ok, now for the traits that help me:

I'm a survivor. In spite of my doom and gloom outlook, I always seem to find the strength to get by.
I have very strong will power. When I put my mind to it, I can do anything, like quitting drugs, nicotine, caffeine, sugar, refined foods, etc.. I can change my life, and have several times.
I care. I care enough to want to change myself, and to want to help others.

Unfortunately, motivation can't be created by sheer determination, strength, or will power. It's usually the other way around. Motivation is created by desire. How can I care enough to want to change my life, but not enough to want to live life? I make all these changes, but it get's me nowhere closer to happiness.

4th step continued

2008-05-15T08:13:00.001-07:00

Ornery is a good word. I am definitely ornery!

I am grouchy and grumpy more often than I would like. And Cranky!

I am not as loving and forgiving and generous and serene and happy and cheerful as I wish I were.

Sometimes I am cheery and energetic. But not that often.

I want to be kind and nice and spontaneously loving and cheery and welcoming. I really want that.

I complain too much.

I do not praise others and myself often enough.

I am MESSY--very messy.

I tend to start a lot of things and not finish them. This is a really really BAD fault of mine. One I need to work on for sure.

I put art and creativity above a clean orderly house. This has its DISADVANTAGES when I can't find important things.

I have ADHD!

I procrastinate. I keep myself overly busy, and this contributes to procrastination--cause I can only do one thing at a time so other things are getting neglected.

I am oversensitive and get angry, hurt, depressed too easily.

I am obese. :-( UNhealthy!

I have sleep apnea and insomnia and a brain tumor. This is part of my moral inventory, because the sleep apnea is caused in part by my obesity which is caused by overeating which is one of my faults, even though it is a DISEASE I have. It's all interrelated.

OK, one of my 4th step guides says to list at least one good thing about yourself for every bad thing, so here are some good things:

I am VERY creative
I am imaginative
I work VERY HARD at my art, poetry, writing, once I get going at it.
I am very loving (except when I am angry)
I am a good cook
I enjoy pleasing other people (but in a balanced and appropriate way, usually)
I walk every day (good for my health)
I eat generally healthy foods
I work at keeping the family(ies) together
I am relatively frugal most of the time. I do not overspend for the most part, and do not have any personal debt.
I am intelligent. (However, my memory is not as good as it used to be.)

OK, that's enough for now. I will come back to this later. As in sometime. When I can. I haven't had breakfast yet and need to EAT! HALT! I'm getting over-hungry! AK. But I figured if I didn't do it now, when would I? Each one of these things requires further exploration!

Gratitude!

2008-05-15T07:53:00.001-07:00

Well, I didn't do my gratitude list on Monday--or Tuesday. Or Wednesday, so here it is Thursday. Quick, some gratitude!

I'm grateful for:

SUNSHINE! YAY! Sunshine, it cheers me up.
flowers
trees
beauty
grace
perception (of beauty and grace
music, especially GOOD, pretty, lovely music
art
the opportunity to appreciate art
the opportunity to do art
poetry
walking, and the ability to walk
friends
family
health, mine and theirs
memories
hope
evolution
blue sky
sunshine
food to eat when I am hungry, tasty food, healthy food
shelter
clothes
air
water
car to drive
paint and paper
computer
mother's day bouquets
plans
engaged interest
curiosity
cameras

I have LOTS to be grateful for! YAY!

Using Again! :-(

2008-05-15T07:47:00.001-07:00

I had a serious binge a few nights ago! :-(

It was my first real binge in a LONG time.

I had insomnia and I was angry but forgot to think about HALT! Hungry angry lonely tired. Yeah, all of the above.

I went down in the middle of the night and ate most of a bag of marshmallows, crackers and butter, macaroni and cheese. AK!

The good news is that I did not continue to binge the next day or the next! That's what I used to do. But I need to be extra vigilant and try to regain my abstinence!! AK!

Gratitude List 5-10-08

2008-05-10T21:33:00.000-07:00

Fractal Flowers thanks to Apophysis.

Things I'm grateful for this week:

Benadryl extra strength anti-itch gel for poison ivy rashes - very, very grateful!
Extra strength Ibuprofen, because it knocks me out when I'm on my period.
Saturdays when I don't have to see anybody or do anything, while I'm itchy, bloated, cramping, and very ornery.
Free internet programs to make me forget about my orneriness,
And, of course, flowers to inspire me.
I'm grateful to have a job I love,
A roof over my head,
And enough money to buy groceries,
Also for free therapy via the internet.
It just seems like there should be 10 items on this list, so I'm going to mention my car. There's no other way to get around here where I live, and I just love my little Honda.

Vision Map #1

2008-05-09T21:47:00.001-07:00

I've been working all day on poetry for my reading tomorrow and
between that and meals and other commitments, I haven't had any spare
time.

It's after midnight and I MUST go to bed. But before I do, I wanted
to do a vision map, my first one. I hope to do a series of these. I
love the idea!

They should make good (if somewhat crude) illustatrations for this blog, LOL!

This one is very simple. I am visualizing a spirit healer, part of
the great Goddess (or part of God, if you prefer), standing on a high
peak sending down healing rays to heal the earth and individual
people.

For me personally, I visualize myself healing to a degree of radiant
good health where I can energetically and happily do my work in the
world.

And the world is healing too.

(I made this quickly. I used only my rather awkward mouse to draw with.)

Working the Fourth Step

2008-05-08T19:07:00.001-07:00

Here is a link with info about working the 4th step. It is kind of daunting. It might be better at first to pay attention to the things you say to yourself and others about yourself, both positive and negative and simply jot them down. Later, you can do an Official inventory. Or, if you're up to it, plunge right in.

Symptoms of Addiction and Codependency

2008-05-08T18:59:00.001-07:00

Symptoms of Addiction and Codependency

Resentful Attitudes
Risky Behaviors
Aggressiveness or Passiveness
Mood Swings
Physical Symptoms
- Weight gain or loss - using food as a drug to calm the storms
- Addiction to prescription or other drugs
- Nervous twitches and ticks
Reactive Behavior instead of proactive behavior
Always feeling overwhelmed

Not trusting of your own feelings
- Never feeling good enough
- Depression, Anxiety and Lethargy

AK, I think every pone of these describes me!

Grateful for the rain

2008-05-07T10:25:00.001-07:00

It was sunny earlier, but it is raining now. I am grateful for the
rain. The plants need it. The animals need it; the garden needs it.
People need fresh water to drink, food nourished by rain to eat. When
it rains, I can concentrate on inside things that need to be done.
Rain has its own beauty and makes me grateful for sunshine. May
showers bring June flowers (lol!)

Powerlessness

2008-05-07T08:32:00.001-07:00

Powerlessness, discussion topic, side trip into step 4:

I am back to struggling with the First Step again!

It's pretty bad when I can't get past the first step. I guess I want to be powerful and in control, and I cannot be. I want to be. I want to make everything right. But I am not God, and my version of what is right is not universal, it is only mine.

I believe that when you decide to do something, when you make a commitment, then you do it the best you can and with all your heart. That's why you are careful about making commitments. (I admit, I am not always good at this--I tend to agree to things to quickly, to say yes, especially when hassled, without considering the ramifications of my choices. And to be eager about things in the beginning, until they lose their luster. Therefor, I should be patient with other people's failings. BUT I tend to be less patient with other people where I myself have a shortcoming!

Hmmm, now this little side trip into step FOUR:

side trip into step 4: Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves. I am supposed to be taking MY OWN inventory, not someone else's! Moral inventory:

I tend to agree to things to quickly, to say yes, especially when hassled, without considering the ramifications of my choices
I tend to be eager about things in the beginning, until they lose their luster
I have ADHD and tend to be easily distracted (or work so hard on one thing I ignore everything else to the detriment)
I tend to be less patient with other people where I myself have a shortcoming!

OK, temporary end to side trip.)

Anyway, here's the problem. I'm very depressed today because of my continuing "resentments" (lack of patience and forgiveness, anger turned inward) about TB's latest practicing issues and HC's lack of stepping up to the plate. It turns out to be a very complex problem. Extremely amazingly complex. TB seems to to be having a crisis relating to doing his practicing (again). He says he's tired of it and bored with it and doesn't feel challenged. He'd rather lay around and do absolutely NOTHING or so ANYTHING ELSE at all rather than practicing. He has a recital coming up, his first solo recital, and he needs to practice in order to prepare for it and do it well. Well, that's my opinion. If TB (Track Boy) were an adult, that would be HIS ISSUE, not mine. But he is a child. And I am a parental figure. AYE, there's the rub. The beginning of the ultra complexity of the issue of powerlessness in my life today. First, there is the issue of parental authority and guidance in general. As a child grows, the parent slowly withdraws discipline and control AS THE CHILD EXHIBITS THE ABILITY to MAKE THE PROPER CHOICES HIMSELF! And, also as he ages toward adulthood, he takes on more of his own choices, even if they are WRONG. But WHERE to draw that line is often an issue. TB is NOT expressing the ability to make proper and wise choices and is not mature, wise, careful or thoughtful about his choices. He seems to consider ONLY the CURRENT moment (instant gratification of immediate desires) and not the outcomes of his choices. So at what point does one allow him to learn from his mistakes, to crash and burn and at what point does one step in and take control? I personally think he should study and practice at age 14 with regularity and discipline. If he can't provide the discipline, I think we, his parents, should. He's not 17 or 18, he's 14. He needs guidance and discipline in important areas. That's my belief, but it may be faulty. OK, so I have a premise that a 14-year-old boy, in this case, TB, requires parental guidance and discipline. Next question: WHO should provide that discipline? I have another premise. HC (Hiking companion, my husband) should be the primary source of guidance and discipline for TB. WHY? Because I am the step mother. I do not want to be placed in the position of being the WICKED step mother. I do not want to be perceived as "mean," although I think I already am, and this upsets and depresses me. I think it would work best for family dynamics if I provided love and support and mild guidance and discipline and HC took over the more difficult disciplinary actions. Another side trip into step 4:

moral inventory:

I am not good at discipling myself or anyone else
I HATE confrontation
I hate arguments
I want everyone to be happy
I want the household to be peaceful
AND I want people to do what they are committed to do (AND WHAT I THINK THEY SHOULD DO! But I shouldn't be taking THEIR inventory--except perhaps in the case of my child.)
I want to be powerful, right, and good

end second side trip into step 4.

OK, so I have a belief and premise that our household would function better if HC would guide and discipline TB. I also believe that guidance, where ever possible, should be REGULAR, positive, and supportive, with heavy discipline being used only when absolutely necessary. I think it would be helpful for HC to engage with his son during piano practice for several reasons: 1)he is the biological parent an father, 2)he knows more about music that I do, 3)he spend very little time with TB. However, it is NOT my job to take HC's inventory and I am powerless over his behavior and choices.

AYE, there's the rub. The truth is, I am ANGRY at HC and at TB. I am angry that TB is not doing what I think he should do and I am angry at HC for not stepping up to the plate and resolving the problem. The outcome I want is this: that HC spends time with TB around his practicing, encouraging and engaging and interacting when needed and that TB gets re-engaged with his practicing at least through the end of this year and does well on his recital. Then HC and TB can hash out whether TB continues with the piano. Of course, I would like him to. But at this point, there has been so much stress around this whole issue and it is upsetting me so much, that I just want to leave. Leave the house during the evening so I don't have to deal with this, or leave the family entirely.

I am powerless over this whole affair and CLUELESS as to what to DO. I am seriously tempted to leave home every evening and return after both of them have gone to bed. It upsets me so much I don't even want to be in the same house. I don't know what to do. At this point, I feel as if there is nothing I CAN do.

The whole thing is further complicated by the fact that I wanted to adopt TB, but no one else seems to care at all. Or want that. I am supposed top treat him as my son, but legally, he is not my son and I have no legal say over him medically or in any other way. I cannot adopt him without cooperation and willingness from both HC and TB. HC needs to get a bunch of paperwork together (I've got all mine in order) or give me the info so I can, and TB has to agree to it now that he is 14. Sometimes I wonder why I even BOTHER trying. :-(

I am willing to sit and listen to TB practice and to encourage him and in fact I do go down and sit near him nearly every night. He used to like that, but now he mostly just uses me as a sounding board for his complaints. Which makes me want to leave--but NOT to go be with HC who is ignoring his "fatherly duties." If I am not going to be downstairs with TB or upstairs with HC, there is no where else to BE. (Should I cease to be?)

ABCDE approach:

A. Adversities: TB isn't doing his practicing regularly and is fighting it every day and HC is not stepping up to the plate to deal with this.

B: Beliefs: I am afraid TB will do badly at his recital and embarrass us and himself and cause trouble with Mrs. Lindow who is very nice. I believe he should stick to his commitment at least through the end of the piano year and hopefully longer.

C: Consequences: I am very depressed, upset, angry, resentful, worried, sad. I feel distant from TB and HC. I worry about the future of our family. I worry about the adoption never happening and no one even caring.

D: Disputations: (THIS IS THE HARD PART!!!) OK, HC works ten hours a day and is very tired and has a right to sit and read and do nothing considering how hard and long he works. My view and premises are only my OPINIONs and HC is entitled to HIS OPINIONs and his way of being a father, even if it is different than my idea and rubs me the wrong way. HC does occasionally engage with TB in exactly the way I wish he would more often. Perhaps that is enough. TB seems to love, value and cherish HC (Much more than he loves values and cherishes ME!!!!). Forgiving and forgetting are good qualities that I cherish. (I am still not feeling very forgiving at the moment and I worry that if I forgive and forget, all kinds of bad consequences will occur.) I made a commitment to love and cherish HC, through thick and thin and idiocy, so perhaps I should somehow bite the bullet and sit upstairs with him and bite my tongue and let the chips fall where they may. (That seems wrong, but he's the father. That won't help my worry or my depression, though, or my resentment! I need to get past the bitting my tongue and bullet part.) Maybe TB will do OK at his recital with less practicing. He does have a facility for it. Maybe my going out every night would be an actual working solution--I could get my exercise then or go do errands, and would have to deal with them both being bad. I'd prolly miss my story every night, and I'd miss time with HC, but I'd have less stress in my life. (But then, what's the point of being MARRIED and HAVING A FAMILY?) OK, so I still have no solution to my problem, so it is hard to go on to the E. part.)

E. ENERGIZE: I am supposed to take hope and solace from the disputations in step D, but I have no solution. I guess I can take some solace in that TB MIGHT still do well on his recital because he has a lot of talent. And that in a hundred years, no one will care about this problem. In fact, no one but me cares anyway. In the scope of world problems, it's pretty insignificant. But the fact that I am insignificant only adds to the weight of my depression and burdens, rather than lifting them. I guess if I were in a death camp, this problem would seem pretty insignificant. Or if I were dying of cancer or something, or drowning in the ocean or in a terrible car accident. If TB were dying of starvation because we didn't have enough food or wounded by shrapnel or something, this would seem pretty minor. I have actual work to do, so I want to make a molehill of this mountain and get to it. SIGH! :-( :-( :-(

I am still sad about it, though. The whole stepmother thing is very difficult and stressful and something HC doesn't seem to understand at all, or care about, or want to be supportive of me, my efforts and my concerns. I wonder if there is a step-parent support group and if I should check it out. Like I have time for that?

I am powerless over other people. I am powerless over their choices. My life is feeling unmanageable and I turn it all over NOW to a higher power! I believe I could be restored to sanity. I admit the nature of the wrongs and shortcomings mentioned above and am ready to have them removed. LOL! Go to it, God! (Please?)

Weekly Gratitude List

2008-05-07T06:59:00.001-07:00

Weekly Gratitude List

I am feeling very depressed today. I may right about that later. If I have time.

I started out wanting to do my weekly gratitude lists on Sunday, because of the spiritual nature of the day and the "rest" nature of the day. But HC* works 6 days a week, ten hours a day, and Sundays are the only days I have with him. We are usually very busy. So I switched to Mondays. But Monday night I have my poetry class, so I usually spend my spare time trying to prepare for that. Here it is Wednesday and I have yet to do them.

Gratitude List for Week of May 7, 2008

I am grateful for sunshine. It cheers me when I am depressed and warms me when I am cold and lights of my life and my heart when I am sad.
I am grateful for spring. It is a little rebirth every year. It cheers me when I am sad.
I am grateful for trees, their grace. Their beauty.
I am grateful for this computer I am writing on and for Jacob's help with it.
I am grateful for flowers, their beauty.
I am grateful for sleep, when I get it. It is so needed, so valuable, so important.
I am grateful for ease of bodily functions when things work right.
I am grateful for--thank you very much--less pain than sometimes today.
I am grateful for smiles and hugs and human touch.
I am grateful for family and friends and their relative good health and safety.
I am grateful we do not have a war here and wish no one did.
I am grateful George Bush will soon be out of the White House.
I am grateful for beauty in the world and the ability so see it and appreciate it.
I am grateful for music, the beauty of music, and its healing soothing properties.
I am grateful for the changing pageant of the seasons and the days.
I am grateful for the opportunity to write. And to do art. And to learn.
I am grateful for the opportunity to travel to Slovenia etc. TWICE!
I am grateful for the opportunity to visit California with Gail and to visit Colorado and see the Black Canyon of the Gunnison and my brother and White Owl Lake etc.
I am grateful for HC. (*My husband, Hiking Companion.) I am grateful for his love, patience, companionship, humor, sexiness etc.
And again, I am grateful for sunshine.
I am grateful for poetry and art, for dance and theater.
I am glad I can walk.
I am grateful for birds and frogs and all the animals of the world.
I am grateful for tigers and glad they are elsewhere. (Tyger Tyger, Burning bright, in the forests of the night . . . )(Yowie!)
same with sharks, lions, rattlesnakes etc
I am glad I am relatively safe. And that my loved ones are also relatively safe. (I wish everyone was.)
I am grateful for Van Gogh. Camille. Picasso. Grandma Moses. Michaelangelo. etc
water
Air
The earth
Tai Chi
Food. Good food. Enough food.
My weight loss so far this year.
buds. Opening.
Color. Opportunities to learn. Wikipedia. The internet.

I may add more later if I have time. It did cheer me up a little. Also to know I could go on and on and do so honestly!