“At sunrise, everything is luminous but not clear” ~ Norman MacClean
“Our need for language, conversation, and definition goes beyond the wish to put things right. Through words we come to know the other person–and to be known. This knowing is at the heart of our deepest longings for intimacy and connection with others. How relationships unfold with the most important people in our lives depends on courage and clarity in finding voice. This is equally true for our relationship with our self. Even when we are not being heard, we may still need to know the sound of our own voice saying out loud what we really think.” ~ Harriet Lerner, PhD
“Appearance blinds, whereas words reveal.” ~ Oscar Wilde
There’s some serious swirling wind out there. Chance of snow. Gusts over 40mph. A bigger storm on the way. In the immortal words of Captain James Tiberius Kirk: “Sounds like fun”. Happy holidays. No, I don’t think I am being cynical this year. The retail holiday season is simply appalling; not that there is anything to do about that. I went to one of the local supermarkets yesterday to get something for lunch. The thickness of the crowd, and the chaos within the vibes, left me shaking my head upon departure, a serious WTF hovering silently on my tongue. And thus we celebrate. I shall not continue and make this a rant. I just saw a map forecasting the storms that will, it seems, cover nearly the whole nation in the near-future. That’s a little too close to a metaphor for the serious stuff going on in our nation’s capitol. The only thing I will say about that is . . . well, you know how you have to keep sharp implements away from some people? Or forbid others to play with matches? tRump (sic) should never have been allowed to play with other peoples money. That is one pitch-dark dude. As for me – ain’t so bad. I had my monthly psychotherapy session yesterday evening. Going from weekly to monthly has been . . . ummmm, let’s say difficult. I feel trepidation in entering this holiday season depressed, but there ya have it. Pushing depression down into storage until a later date is simply foolish, unless you have no choice. I have a choice. I intend to befriend the beast, then go for a casual walk with it, to get to know it better. Sigh. Poor me, right? Yeh, right. I’d best go out to the car, brave the chilling wind, and assess what kind of battle I will have to wage to remove frost from the windows. Then struggle to wrench myself from the sweet comfort of a nice hot shower. That’s gonna take some doin’. For whatever reason hot showers are often an emotional experience for me. If I let the water spray upon the back of my neck it will, almost without fail, make me weepy. That’s an artifact from PTSD. I told the therapist that I don’t expect the PTSD to go away, ever, but I would welcome that, on the chance that it should happen. Whatever. I’m depressed and emotional this morning. It’s real. It’s a workday. Regardless of all that – I feel a smile and a peaceful breeze within my soul.
All is well. Goof gloriously.