April 9, 2003 - A
"It Will Have To Suffice"
Oh, the cold dreamer's thoughts at 2:25am, when sore of back she must rise for a bit, and she is melancholy. Oh, but it is lame to refer to oneself in the third person! I'm thinking of a particularily annoying radio commercial in which the guy does that. Seeking phones, he is, for him and his lady. He communicates at least.
I am the shy, glum one. I am lost in worlds of my own, and no, you can't touch me. I am lost there. 'Autistic', one person once said, but I think there is another word for it. Sometimes, if I can re-create the worlds so that others may enter, it can be beautiful. It can be. Others have done so with great success.
I think of my favorite author's work, which I am savoring slowly. Lost in vampland, I am. But it's such an intriguing place. I understand Gabrielle. She is not 'cold' to me, she who went to wander in the jungles. Sometimes that appeals to me, the thought of losing oneself in the earth, all nature girl, just out lost like that.
Lost is okay if you find yourself. Shall I find myself on this night's (morning's?) bit of ramble? I hope so.
I am melancholy. I am blue. 'It is that time', I caution myself, all female with these moods. Well, at least I don't go 'crazy'. I've heard that is possible. So I want to go to the jungle and be wild nature girl. Maybe Anne wants to do it sometimes. This stuff gets born in her mind. I understand.
That is the lovely thing about writing. Another leaves their thoughts in solitude and we pick them up, in solitude. All safe and lovely there, curled up deep in the earth, or some place dark and safe. How I want to retreat! How I want to retreat when the work load piles high, and there is only me to do it!
Maybe I retreat anyway, lost in my thoughts, unreachable by others. They want chatter, and lots of it. I can't understand those that can chatter for hours. How do their minds create such chatter? If I take another with me in my sojourns into lost worlds, I must make sure there is the string to lead us back.
I couldn't just . . . grab another and wander. I don't think. How bored could that person be? No, they want easy thoughts, all arranged so nicely, not the disorderly haphazard way of wandering in which I can get lost so easily.
And nothing I do is 'easy'. Ah, I could be more popular if it were. Millions flock, or at least hundreds, to the thoughts that are 'easy'. No, everything I do has to be 'weighty'. I 'have' to be deep. Why can't I be all surface-girl, and think of 'easy' chatter? Well, for me, this is not 'easy'. I would if I could.
So that's what I would say to those who wish I'd talk more. I would if I could. I do what I can. I hope it is enough.
I scratch my messages here, hoping maybe some will find them interesting. So fascinating that, Lestat carving his messages for Marius all over Europe. I carve messages. I do not do light, easy chatter. I wish I could. I would if I could.
Sorry! It is I here, the carver into stone. Maybe something lasts of this. I hope. I wish I could be the light and easy, free and breezy kind of girl.
But no, I am just like Gabrielle. I want to go off wandering. And I take no prisoners. You can all follow if you want. I leave my tracks, sure enough. Here, on silly nights like these, when the rest of the mortals are sleeping, I leave my tracks. Hah, it is all like that.
I'm carving my silly little messages, strange little girl that I am, all over the web, and you can find them if you wish. COULD it be any different? Ah, but there are so many others to take the light road, the 'easy' sunshined road, and talk of light matters.
I am here in the darkness, hoping to make some light. Dim though it may be, it will have to suffice.
April 9, 2003 - B
"A Dictator Falls"
|
Once the statue was dragged to the ground, Iraqis broke it into pieces and dragged its head around through the streets. Others, including children, followed it, pounding it with shoes and slippers, a supreme insult in Arab lands.
Many are shouting, ''Those of you who doubted the rightness of the war, do you still doubt?'' But even Defense Secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld says there are many things that must yet be accomplished before victory can be declared.
Whatever happens next, it's probably safe to say it's the end of Hussein's rule.
April 10, 2003
"Something Like That"
It may be bigger than that of my writer's ego. Though I wouldn't place bets on it. It's the shyness thing that restrains me. Phew! Something's got to restrain me, I guess. I keep thinking the higher they are, the harder they fall. So maybe it's a good thing I am really quite knee level and the height is only in my own mind.
No one can hear the fall when it happens. If it happens. Enough of that inane drivel. Was it inane?
Anyway, it is the morning of a Thursday and the weekend is getting closer. Will we have a nice weekend, or will it be a dud? Last weekend was so nice. Ugh, now I'm getting inane. Still, the curiousity bears merit. And last weekend was lovely.
But this moment is the now I must deal with. Let's not kill this time now with straining to a time that does not exist yet. Fascinating, my studies on the web. I read of those who identify as 'psychic vampires'. They feel the need to feed on the 'psychic energy' of other humans. I also read of an artist who wishes to inspire healing and peace with his art. 'A new kind of art about hope, healing, redemption and refuge' is how one reviewer described this art. And indeed, the abstract images, made partially from mineral pigments, do seem to soothe my spirit when I look at them.
Is this not what the world needs more than anything? We are all so needy, and those of us who can attach to the Source, are we not blessed in some way? The rational may say these are all mind games, and they may be right. Still I am glad for the peace that comes when I seek the Source.
Peace, that is what I wish to impart as I roam through the world. I may not be a good conversationalist, but I know I can impart this small energy. Even the skeptic will agree mind set informs thought, which informs action, and thus it can happen. Even if only in small ways, this can help.
Better one small brick towards heaven than fearful cowering in the cold shadows.
Or something like that.
April 11, 2003 - A
"Real Enough To Me"
BANQUETING is one of the things the ancients did, and we moderns did it with great style last night. I was surprised to find my 'medium' steak quite rare, and I almost did a double take as I saw it. But it was so juicy, and yes, filled with a reddish liquid. Ah, must be the 'vampire' in me, but it was quite good. I like the spicier 'Outback' seasonings, and if this juiciness were mixed with that, well I can do that! I'll get 'medium rare' at 'Outback'.
But the salad, potatoes and bread were especially tasty. It was a fun outing.
I woke up in the middle of last night with an epiphany, as is so often the case, and I had to capture it.
There's been a discussion in one of the groups concerning 'real' vampires. Up to this point, I've held a skeptical position. Then, I had the following epiphany, which I posted to the group:
I noticed on one of the various sites I've seen a type of 'energy draw' referred to that does not draw from living beings. This is a very 'pagan' thing, to draw energy from 'the earth', a beautiful nature spot, a river, (We are blessed to have the Colorado river here in the desert. I think this adds much to the appeal of Yuma, Arizona, though people are not consciously aware of it.), mountains, storms, etc.
It can go into the 'mystical', and feel like I'm drawing energy from 'The Source' or 'The Mystery'. Now twenty million skeptics will tell me this is all 'a mind game' I do on myself. But it feels REAL to me. When I do this energy drawing, I find it very empowering. I have, even before reading of pagan beliefs, felt 'The Divine First Cause' to be like electricity. I run better when 'plugged in'.
I am fortunate to have this strength to call on. Skeptics can call it magical thinking and it does not harm me. I am even quite willing to admit that is what is going on here. However its apparent effectiveness is enough for me. There need be no scientific tests, etc.
I have even drawn energy from the earth and sent it to living people. I feel very much like a channel when I do this. I like to think those to whom I've sent 'my prayers' like this do benefit. Is it merely a comforting mind game to help me deal with miseries in the world and merely helping ME to feel less useless when a loved one is in trouble?
It could well be. I don't know the ultimate answers. There is so much we do not understand yet about humans. But I'm willing to think it is more than 'hoo haa'. At least I'd like to think it is. There is that possibility.
There's something I wish to correct. Did I give the impression that psychological vampirism was 'crazy' because it's 'all in the head'? I did not mean to do so. 'All in the head' has a reality all of its own.
Everything is an evolution of understanding. At least it should be.
April 11, 2003 - B
"One Step At A Time"
In Process . . .
|
Just as a picture is drawn by an artist, surroundings are created by the activities of the mind. Buddha |
What goes here?
What goes there?
One step at a step . . .
Finished Thumbnail . . . See it full size
April 12, 2003
"Thus It Has Been"
|
Just what things are sacred to you? Why are they sacred? What has said 'this is precious' to you and why do you hold it close?
A new green flourite, perfect eight sided crystal, sits on my monitor. New meditative music is playing. The pianist plays his tune, which was led by Spirit. I, the listener, can tell.
All of me wants to be on this sacred path: Preserve that which needs preserving. Speak the truth as I find it. And each day it is a discovery. I am the needing vessel. A friend spoke of a meditational procedure her daughter came up with when she was only nine.
''Take an object and REALLY observe it.'' While we sat in the coffee shop, I did that. An empty paper cup, which had contained coffee set there. What did it say to me? ''I am empty. I have been full. I can be full again. I am open for this filling.''
Then my eyes moved to the watch on my friends wrist. What did it say to me? ''I mark the hours. I tell you what the hour is so that you will not be late for important missions. I tell you your days are limited. Each has only twenty four hours. What will you fill this procession of hours with?''
Then I looked at the square table at which we sat. What did it say to me? ''I am here for weary people to rest their arms, and their drinks. Across me, friends will sit and meet eyes and discuss the things on their minds.''
Then I looked at the door. What did it say to me? ''I am here for thirsty people to enter. I am the gate to a small haven on earth. Bring your thirst through this door, get out of the cold, the wind and great heat. Enter!''
Thus was my meditation. At times, I am cup. I have been full, am empty and will be filled again. At times, I am watch. I am so fearfully aware of the passage of time. At times, I am table. Come rest here, meet my mind, meet your mind, meet what it is you need to meet. And at times, I am door. I am the entryway, the passage, I open to what will enter me and flow through me.
Just now, I have been so. These are the words which have flown through me. I was full, am empty now and will be filled again. Until that time, the hours and minutes will mark themselves as I pass through my journey.
And the low tones of an oboe sing while a small choir hums. The pianist plays an instrument of strange electronic springyness. It is 'new music' for a 'new age'. Everything that is 'new' will become 'old'. Everything that is 'old' was once 'new'.
Thus it has been, thus it ever will be.
Music listened to during this passage:
GODDESS by Troika, composed by David Arkenstone
April 13, 2003
"Meditative Mandala"
''OM: this eternal word is all; what was, what is and what shall be.''
for large size
On another list, the leader had posted a color symbology and healing chart. The bluish purple is there referred to as 'INDIGO'. The author of the chart had said Indigo was ''It is the strongest painkiller in the spectrum'' and one of the organs it influences is the SINUSES. I have been quite laid low today by a sinus headache.
I was quite surprised, for just visualizing indigo in my mind seemed to ease my sinus pain somewhat. How much better it would be for me to meditate with this color by making a mandala using it as the base color. Off I was running to 'Picture Publisher'.
This color is said to belong to both the writer and the spiritualist. It also, among other things, represents the eyes. Thus, I was drawn to an image of an eye at the center. This seems healing to me, not only because the sinuses are behind the eye, but for a sort of spiritual vision.
Each image in turn called itself to me. The 'OM' symbol is explained more thoroughly in this paragraph:
In the Sanskrit letter the long lower curve represents the dream state, the upper curve stands for the waking state and the curve issuing from the centre symbolizes deep, dreamless sleep. The crescent shape stands for "maya", the veil of illusion and the dot for the transcendental state. When the individual spirit in man passes through the veil and rests in the transcendental he is liberated from the three states and their qualities.The mandala produces in me a feeling of deep relaxation when I look at. I am quite pleased with today's gift from the 'muse'.
April 14, 2003
"Laura's Birthday"
'Roses' for Laura
I'm not too eloquent today. I am still battling the sinus headache. But I want to mark the day as a remembrance of LAURA'S birthday. She would have been sixty four. This brings to mind the bouncy spritely melody, ''Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm sixty four?''of the old Beatles song.
Well, we are not 'feeding' Laura anymore. We could put out cakes before the urn, but it would not do her any good. I feel I still 'need' Laura, I miss her so much, but I'm getting by. We both do and are.
One of the high-IQ magazines in which both Julia and Laura had articles published is doing a "In Memoriam" notice for Laura.
I'm printing Julia's reply to the editor:
April 14th would have been Laura's 64th birthday, so the timing is oddly appropriate. I am greatly moved by the way you are honoring her, and it is deeply appreciated. I do miss Laura each day, immeasurably.I'm letting Julia's eloquent words speak for both of us on this anniversary of Laura's birthday.She was probably the most intelligent person I have ever known, making for a treasured eight-year companionship. Her mind was very different from mine, stronger in the fluid aspect, so our conversations would tend to converge on topics from very different perspectives. Great fun!
Laura taught me much about caring and sheer enjoyment of life. I never knew another person with such a compassionate heart coupled with skeptical and courageous nature. Laura was greatly loved by her friends and also despised by a few adversaries, and can be judged fairly by the quality of both! Her writings are eloquent testimony to a courageous and undaunted champion of the human spirit; an unforgettable master of change who changed everyone who had the good fortune to know her.
Also, I can trot out some earlier words of mine, when I WAS up to eloquent: Sixty Reasons I Love Laura
''Happy Birthday, Laura, on whatever sphere you are!''
April 16, 2003
"I Am Not Happy"
I don't know if its cause is MSG based, or what, but I tossed the new package into the trash bin, as even Julia noticed some irritation from it. And I also remember Laura said Dentyne gum had hurt her mouth. Maybe with repeated exposure, it gets worse. I, unwilling to give up my favorite gum, have had a lot of repeated exposure.
But no more, that pack is tossed. It will be very hard to find some gum that doesn't contain some form of irritant, I imagine. Nearly all of them contain aspartame, an artificial sweetener, to which I am also allergic.
The whole dam world is becoming ARTIFICIAL!
Yes, I am full of rants today. And now I must soon abandon the bloated cow that Hotmail has become. I didn't check my email for 24 hours, and I found 51 pieces of junk mail this morning. Fifty-one! It's been getting steadily worse. I have now an email address at Yahoo, but it is such work to change everything over.
My mouth hurts. It even hurts to eat tapioca pudding and oatmeal. I am not happy. And now I am even running out of time to complain, as I must get ready for work. I must leave my rant while yet unsatisfied of a thorough bitch session. I should be at least allowed more time to air my grievances.
I am not happy.
