Ultimate dreams

I found a list I made in December of 1998 as part of a yoga class.  My "Ultimate Dreams", which I had to list with specifically dated deadlines.  (Turned out the yoga center was run by folks who were way into The Forum.)

I thought it was interesting to see which dreams were realized.  Only one so far :-)

Have a baby or adopt a child by January 1, 2000.

Visit New Mexico by August 31, 2003.

Wake up to a view of the ocean every day by August 31, 2023.

Visit Finland by December 31, 2008.

What would (insert name here) do?

My first pair of shoes dipped in copper and mounted on a base which has slots on the back to slide a picture frame into.  (The frame is long gone.)

I can't bring myself to dump it into the garbage bag, but this is exactly the kind of shit memorabilia that whoever survives my passing into the great beyond is going to have sift through and then throw out.

Dregs

Not much reflective writing happening here lately.  Sorry.

At the moment I am dragging out dealing with these dregs here.  Of bag #2 (bag #1 and box #1 dealt with yesterday, bags #3 and #4 and box #2 and #3 lie in waiting).

I hate the dregs and the dregs hate me.  (Click to embiggen for dust bunnies and stray hairs.)

I know my troubles are so nothing when the day's albatross is dealing with this.  Sorry.

Would a professional say at this point, "dump it"?  I feel compelled to sort it all out.  To return the objects to where they belong.

One last thing: in "dealing" with these bags and boxes, I'm actually only getting as far as recycling and trashing as appropriate.  The things to be put back somewhere are going back into new bags.  

I've miles to go.

A dream of trees

A Dream of Trees by Mary Oliver

There is a thing in me that dreamed of trees,
A quiet house, some green and modest acres
A little way from every troubling town,
A little way from factories, schools, laments.
I would have time, I thought, and time to spare,
With only streams and birds for company.
To build out of my life a few wild stanzas.
And then it came to me, that so was death,
A little way away from everywhere.

There is a thing in me still dreams of trees,
But let it go. Homesick for moderation,
Half the world’s artists shrink or fall away.
If any find solution, let him tell it.
Meanwhile I bend my heart toward lamentation
Where, as the times implore our true involvement,
The blades of every crisis point the way.

I would it were not so, but so it is.
Who ever made music of a mild day?

Black tie beach

(click on the lower right hand corner of the vid to watch it at YouTube.)

Inside the pupa

I'm doing the (for me) hard work of going through bags and boxes of mostly paper, mostly crap that have piled up since the new year (yup, as in January).  It's tedious.  And enervating.  And even though I want to do it, I kinda just want to ignore it, too.

It's discouraging finding "to be filed" papers from 2008.  And, ahem, 2007.  (Slips and packets carried over from one "organizing" to the next.)  The insurance card for the car that we just reordered because it turns out we've been driving around for nearly 11 months without proof of insurance?  I found it a half hour ago.

I've been reading and learning and talking about decluttering and living simply for a couple of years now.  And I am slowly figuring out ways to lighten my life.  One method I have come back to, in my mind, over and over again, is to simply dump these bags and boxes of stuff in the trash.  To let it all go in one fell swoop.  (To have instantly cleared surfaces and corners in my living space?  Yes, please.)

I'm not there yet, and this may never be something I can do.  Because as much as I agree with the theory that if you haven't used it in a year then you truly don't need it, I also agree with keeping the things that you find beautiful...those objects that bring you true joy.

And when I go through my crap, inhaling dust and running down the immune systems of not only myself, but my family...every now and again, I find something like this:

Dancing Flames by Gyoshu Hayami, 1925.

The momentary mix of a rushing release of happy hormones with a distinct feeling of being woven right into the fabric of the Universe...it's a one fell swoop of a different sort and, frankly, the kind that sustains me and what I search for unconsciously with every breath I take.

Jóga

All these accidents,
That happen,
Follow the dot,
Coincidence,
Makes sense,
Only with you,
You don't have to speak,
I feel.

Emotional landscapes,
They puzzle me,
Then the riddle gets solved,
And you push me up to this

State of emergency,
How beautiful to be,
State of emergency,
Is where I want to be.

All that no-one sees,
You see,
What's inside of me,
Every nerve that hurts,
You heal,
Deep inside of me,
You don't have to speak,
I feel.

Emotional landscapes,
They puzzle me - confuse,
Then the riddle gets solved,
And you push me up to this

State of emergency,
How beautiful to be,
State of emergency,
Is where I want to be.

Etc.

Acorns

The acorns have started dropping.  We live amidst a few oak trees that are crane-your-neck tall.  So these little suckers pack a wallop when they hit the roof of the porch which is right out my window where I type.  Or the top of an air conditioner, or the driveway (any hard surface...you get the picture, or rather, the sound effect).  Remarkably, I've never gotten plunked on the head by an acorn.  Maybe this year's my year.

The annual falling of the acorns is a signal.  The random, yet organic, bounces and beats are meditative in an ADDish sort of way.  But, this morning, in my sleep deprived state I can hear the Siren of the coming season permeating the space between the beats.  Getting incrementally louder and insistent.

Here comes the wave of melancholia.

Bedtime blessing

A star for you to wish upon, the sun so warm and bright, the moon for you to dream upon, pleasant dreams my love, good night.  

I'm like... (NSFW)

This song/video is getting some buzz and rightly so, in my opinion.  It's hilarious and wonderful.  Cee Lo's voice is so warm, rich and inviting.  His old school sensibilities served up with a twist of now tickles my brain.

Ear candy

Put the 2000+ iTunes on shuffle and have been (re)discovering some treats.  Like "While You Were Gone" by The Combinations.  You can listen to it here on NPR.

Subway dream

Last night I had a dream.  Notable because I can actually still remember it though the details are fast fading even as I type.  (I took a few minutes to look for an image of the subway which contributed to the dilution, but I saw some interesting shots...love googling.)

I was in the NYC subway.  And somehow I dropped my bag and coat onto the tracks.  It was an accident of the flukey sort.  The track well was dry and clean (not the track wells of my childhood) and I had a strong feeling that all could be well so easily if only I could retrieve my belongings.

I called out to a worker for help and she, in turn, called out to another worker.  This second worker, also a woman, came to talk to me.  She informed me it would not be as simple as I had hoped.  We could hear the rumbling of oncoming trains.

I was discouraged.  Then, encouraged as a train pulled into the station on another track, but then discouraged again as a train rolled in on the track my stuff was on.

The dream held such sway that I dreamt about it again later in my sleep.  I was relaying what happened, that I had dropped my things onto the track, to someone.  I took the situation in stride.  There was clarity in the inevitability, as opposed to any sense of fatalism.  

Also, as I retold the story in my next, or continued, dream, I could see in my mind's eye my things were still there, unmussed, unharmed...to be collected at any time, upon my return to the scene.  Now that I am awake, I still feel this potential.

And that's a good thing.

Preserving

The obvious: overrun with peachy summer bounty this morning was devoted to the task of washing, peeling, slicing, weighing, bagging and freezing.  (The practical arts can be lonely.)

The amorphous: I thought the kitchen scale was passed down by my mother.  Curious, I googled.  The French manufacturer did not begin exporting internationally until the late 80s and early 90s.  It is still possible that I plucked this scale from Mom at some long ago time.  But, it is no longer possible, as I originally wondered, that this is a scale that she used when I was a youngster.

The Photographer

I heard about this graphic novel from Lolly of Lolly Knitting Around.  She is one of my contacts on Goodreads and I have gotten a bunch of solid recommendations for books by following her.

Reading the introduction was illuminating and intense.  A condensed history of Afghanistan which taught me a thing or two.

I'm looking forward to reading this.  (Check out the link in my "Reading Basket" on the sidebar.)

The shadows

digging the shadows lately.

It's the light.  Sixty plus days past the Summer Solstice and the light is starting to take on my favorite seasonal quality.

T

tantrum turned tranquil.

The boy was throwing a huge hissy fit in the park on a gorgeous late August morning.  

After a pleasant excursion to the library (loot: a classic Peanuts collection) Mom decided to detour to the park for a quick stroll before heading home to lunch.  So they walked, brother and friend up ahead and unfazed.  Geese hanging about.  The playground overflowing with shrieking sunny children.  Workers resting in the shade.  A lone jogger circling round and round.

The boy cried.  He hung and swung about on Mom's bag and arm.  Occasionally, he screamed.  He called her a liar.  And continued to walk.  Every time Mom quietly asked if he wanted to hold her hand death grip released and dead weight shifted to reach for her hand.

Brother and friend broke away to take a short cut across the hot grass.  They agreed to wait for them on the bridge.

The boy stayed close and turned the volume down as he realized they were on the return arc.  That was when Mom saw the T.  They stopped to inspect this favorable, if peculiar, sight.  T is the first letter of the boy's name.  Mom's delight was contagious and he started to smile.

In the park

I'm ready for my close-up.

Yesterday we went to our local park day and met up with homeschoolers old and new.  It was gorgeous out and I gingerly stepped out of my summer pupa.  I lay on my Basha blanket (she who has recently moved to Oregon!) and fell into the sky and leaves for awhile.

On the nose

exactly the kind of moment that makes my day.

Girly love

Thanks to Shannon for turning me on to this site via Facebook (a little plug for those of you not connected that way...yet :-)

This test film is so cool for a variety of reasons.  But, the reason I am slapping it on here is because I love love love the hat with the falling cherries briefly featured in it.  They just don't make 'em like that anymore...

What's coming

 

 

that's what I'm talking about.

I love this.  

The visual aspect is really working for me.  The boundaries that the colors and the boxes provide transform feeling overwhelmed by mental information to a more peaceful state.  

Seeing is believing and I can literally see what is possible here.