That Kind of Day

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Me and my friend Dobbie

“Imagine smiling after a slap in the face. Then think of doing it twenty-four hours a day.” ~ Markus Zusak

“He was listening with pain of spirit to the overtone of weariness behind their frail fresh innocent voices. Even before they set out on life’s journey they seemed weary already.” ~ James Joyce

“As I thought of these things, I drew aside the curtains and looked out into the darkness, and it seemed to my troubled fancy that all those little points of light filling the sky were the furnaces of innumerable divine alchemists, who labour continually, turning lead into gold, weariness into ecstasy, bodies into souls, the darkness into God; and at their perfect labour my mortality grew heavy, and I cried out, as so many dreamers and men of letters in our age have cried, for the birth of that elaborate spiritual beauty which could alone uplift souls weighted with so many dreams.” ~ W. B. Yeats

It’s not just the change of season, it is more the energetic shift that moves along deep, eventually evidenced by the rather startling change in the quality of the Sun’s light, as it is forged through Brighid’s fire, and through refraction, to give us the power to see what is going on around us. Refraction gifts us with colors, and Brighid’s fire infuses us with Spirit. You can accomplish a lot with just those two things. But yesterday I added a couple of episodes of Star Trek Next Gen, season six. As you may imagine, it all went quite well for me. I have been longing for the arrival of Autumn; only two days away and I am breathing a little easier. No, I am in no mood to try and go all Walter Mitty these days. My fantasies are scarce compared to my dreams. And Don Quixote tilting at windmills while sitting on his ass. I know, I know, there’s a bit of snark in my attitude this morning. It actually feels good, kinda like an old friend. I’m like more into Icarus right now. I recently heard a new perspective on that old myth. The upshot of the story has always been that Icarus flew too close to the Sun, melted his wings, casting feather asunder, and friggin died as he plunged into the waiting sea. Dude had class, no doubt. But this new perspective is that daddy Daedalus not only advised the boy to not get, go, whatever, too high, he also cautioned him to not fly too low, lest the misty moisty seafoam and ocean-spray embrace his feathers with too much weight and pull him down into his death by drowning. And I seriously doubt that daddy told sonny boy to straighten up and fly right. This myth plays a crucial foundational role in the novel I am working on, so my coming across this new perspective is a profound thing, indeed. Just in time for Autumn. Fancy that, dude. Gnarly, right?


The sky is hanging low at sunrise. Countless shades of gray. It rained overnight. And there are things that must be done today, mostly consisting of the laundry. Dag nab it, I blew it off on Sunday, though I knew the day would come. Today’s the day. Que sera sera. Then therapy at noon. The Icarus myth oughtta play well there. My therapist is into Jungian depth analysis. No worries. Then likely a pint and a little more Star Trek Next Generation. I’ll be haunted all day by the look on Rosie the cat’s face as she pleaded to me upon waking me at precisely 3 AM. We were like Timmy and Lassie there for a minute. “What is it, girl? What is it?”. The feeling I got from it was that someone had been witchin’ on me and Rosie put the kibosh on it. Good kitty, nice kitty. I wonder who it was. Are there any clues? Yeh, there are. The matter will be addressed accordingly. It’s that kind of day.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

 

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Stepping Through the Crack

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A looming snow monster threatens to swallow Taos, New Mexico

“Whenever there is stillness there is the still small voice, God’s speaking from the whirlwind, nature’s old song, and dance.” ~ Annie Dillard

“In any case, it is very important to be idle with confidence, with devotion, possibly even with joy. The days when even our hands do not stir are so exceptionally quiet that it is hardly possible to raise them without hearing a whole lot.” ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

“Sometimes you just have to turn off the lights, sit in the dark, and see what happens inside of you.” ~ Adam Oakley

Lean back and the spine twinges a bit too much. As my back hit the pillow I realized that I was leaning against the heating pad as well. The control was within reach with nary a move of a muscle. Lucky me. This is, I suppose, about something that came to me yesterday at work. Inner peace stealthily arrived and pounced on me. I didn’t stand a chance. It happens once in a while, often enough that my own still small voice doesn’t forget any of the words to the silent song that is peace. Wow, that was kind of a tricky thought to put into words. That is one of the purposes of this blog, to make sure, as far as words are concerned, that I remember to sometime work while I play. And no, I don’t feel I did a good job of putting said thought into words. No worries. The rooster has just begun to crow and the Sun will be cracking through dawn in a few minutes. I am required to attend, so I will grab the camera and go out where I can see the mountains. Castaneda’s Don Juan Matus called twilight “the crack between the worlds”. I think I’ll go step through it for the day, and contemplate Netflix.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

 

Depression and Rooster

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“We often confuse what we wish for with what is.” ~ Neil Gaiman

“Before I came here, I was confused about this subject. Having listened to your lecture, I am still confused — but on a higher level.” ~ Enrico Fermi

“Censors tend to do what only psychotics do: they confuse reality with illusion.” ~ David Cronenberg

Rosie the cat’s facial expression in the opening photo kinda matches how I feel this morning. I could really use another hour of sleep. Or not. Somewhere in the back of my mind I am smiling, somewhat amused, somewhat bemused, nearly painfully irrelevant to my place in the world, and, totally irreverent about that place as well. No big deal. Only the president does big deals, especially when he lies like a pre-teen just getting their footing in the world. The teens are going through the process of maturation that we all have to go through. I’m not sure how I did on that unspoken test, but I am okay with the outcome. Right now I have half a mind to write more, but the other half is like “dude, the clock, remember?”. Yeh, I remember. It’s too early in the morning to contemplate whether or not time is an illusion, or if we create our own reality. As for positive thinking, read (it’s a great book, and sincere) Barbara Ehrenreich’s ” Bright-sided”. She expressed a view very similar to my own. I still consider the positive thinking thingy to be more fad and myth than anything else. But the attitude itself has had a long run of it, and it is not likely to abate any time soon. The world is not going to stop and wait for me to come to my senses. I guess my only question (such as it is) this morning is do positive thinkers ever think about deeply and clinically depressed people at all? Or do they wait for them to get onboard before communications begin in earnest? Whatever. That was an attempt at humor. I really don’t care what positive thinkers think as long as their smile is genuine. It doesn’t take much to please me, now does it. As for now, the fake rooster is piping up, calling forth the Sun, which will rise about 35 minutes from now. I wonder about that rooster. Is it really male? I reckon so, although I have been told otherwise. In listening to the fowl  . . .  geez, it sounds just like a friggin rooster! Isn’t that enough? I once read a tiny note pasted in a place where it was unlikely to be seen by much of anyone. The note read, “Attitude is more important than facts”. That, of course, is not true. I got me some serious body chills when I read that. It was a WTF moment. Boy howdy was it ever! But I must digress for  moment before I call it a wrap. Do you think it is possible that it is really just a hen with a positive attitude, and she’s willing to aspire to take the place of alpha male, which position has been open ever since the turkey left? That was a clunky sentence, I know. I’ve grown to love the fake rooster. And I know danged friggin well that yer attitude has little to do with the quality of your love in general. Are you confused yet?

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

Posture and the Pathway

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“Waking consciousness is dreaming – but dreaming constrained by external reality”  ~ Oliver Sachs

“We have been to the moon, we have charted the depths of the ocean and the heart of the atom, but we have a fear of looking inward to ourselves because we sense that is where all the contradictions flow together.” ~ Terence McKenna

“Consciousness cannot be accounted for in physical terms. For consciousness is absolutely fundamental. It cannot be accounted for in terms of anything else.” ~ Erwin Schrödinger



Yesterday I was pretty much attached at the hip with the king-size heating pad  –  or, more accurately, at the shoulder. My massage therapist explained how my permanently dislocated left shoulder is compensated for by changes in the positioning of the right hip, to balance out the injury. That is one prime benefit from her work: the aching in my right hip is no longer chronic. The shoulder? Not so much. I still favor the hip, but I am constantly trying to hold awareness in improving my beleaguered posture. It’s been good for both hip and shoulder. This presents a big challenge, one that my fellow career cashiers would understand, due to the predictable attrition in our bodies as we work. I have the additional challenge of endeavoring to loosen up the friggin postures that the PTSD creates in order to defend me against a hostile world. Not that the world is inherently hostile. It’s just the PTSD doing what it is designed to do, which is often a way of telling me to get the hell out of Dodge before I am accosted by orcs or demons or other monsters (Have you ever been to Dodge City? It literally smells of bullshit!). Dang! If Gollum shows up, I’m in deep doo doo, my precious. Wish me luck. This is what that pharmaceutical is for  –  to keep me from pouncing on one of those phantoms. The other pharmaceutical does something else, although chemists originally designed the drug to combat nerve pain in diabetics. The drug  –  both of them, actually  . . . .  they are classified as antispasmodics. I had a mild seizure 3.5 years ago. The drugs guard against another, although that was not the original intention of the lovely doctor lady, the psychiatrist; the neurologist approved of the drug cocktail, because it fit with his intention as well. She listened to me for an hour, the first visit/evaluation. Then she designed a path out of the darker spaces I inhabited at the time; a collaborative effort between PTSD and bipolar type two. It worked remarkably well. And when I got my card, and added Indica to the mix, it all improved, once again. Lucky me. I deeply love my former doctor. We connected on a soul level, and she knows it too. We are friends now. We’ve talked about it on a spiritual level. Just as there is karma, there is also healing. Healing is not something that happens then goes away. It is a Neverending story of growth. Healing is like that.



I just stepped outside to behold the lavender shadows in the pre-dawn hues. There is a bit of agoraphobia. I’ll deal. But I do not know why I got on this faux-griping. Consciousness is constrained by this stuff. That’s all. Just sayin’. Geez, I’d better go pick up the razor and then have a shower. Bueno bye.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.



 

Big Cat, Little Cat

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“It doesn’t seem to me that this fantastically marvelous universe, this tremendous range of time and space and different kinds of animals, and all the different planets, and all these atoms with all their motions, and so on, all this complicated thing can merely be a stage so that God can watch human beings struggle for good and evil – which is the view that religion has. The stage is too big for the drama.”  ~ Richard Feynman

“Slow down, you move too fast.
You got to make the morning last.
Just kicking down the cobble stones.
Looking for fun and feelin’ groovy.”  ~  Simon and Garfunkel


My understanding is that mountain lions have territories that cover about 100 square miles. President Trump is the lion that wants the whole State of New Mexico, and wants all of the other lions to work for him, and all the other lions are like “fuck that”, so Donny calls them Democrats. That’ll teach ’em. And besides, those 3000 rabbits that died last year from big cat bites? Never happened. That’s all I’ve got to say about that.


Lap cat and coffee. I’ve been a little slow with my coffee consumption today. And the cat? It’s pretty much up to her how I am today, slow or not. Tis a goofy mood that is upon this scribe today. Between that and the fact that I am flat out of time, I’ll have to make this a short post after all, because I need a little time to yawn some more before I take a shower. It’s a mystery why I need to do that so don’t ask, k? Thanks, yer a pal.



Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

In Reference to the Toddler Chipmunks

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“Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?” ~ John Keats

“There is a saying in Tibetan, ‘Tragedy should be utilized as a source of strength.’
No matter what sort of difficulties, how painful experience is, if we lose our hope, that’s our real disaster.” ~ Dalai Lama XIV

“I know that pain is the most important thing in the universes. Greater than survival, greater than love, greater even than the beauty it brings about. For without pain, there can be no pleasure. Without sadness, there can be no happiness. Without misery there can be no beauty. And without these, life is endless, hopeless, doomed and damned.
Adult. You have become adult.” ~ Harlan Ellison

It was a Facebook post about dogs that finally got me goin’ writing. I know, I know, the opening photo is of a cat I usta know, but that does not . . . geez, the news videos I’ve been watching are starting to get to me. Commentary, don’tcha know. Oops, that comment was in part attributable (the “don’tcha know” thing) to My Grandpa Edwin and not to Grandpa Wendell, who is attributable as well by the opening photo of a ginger cat I usta know. I didn’t know Wendell more than a smidgen. I wish I had. According to my mom, his daughter, he was like a ginger cat; curly red hair. Irishman, going way back to the 12th century. I’m guessing he was a rascal. Edwin was more serious yet he had equanimity sussed. He usta sit on his porch, in the fishing camp he and grandma owned, on the shore of the Lake of the Ozarks, in Missouri. He would drink his morning coffee and smoke his pipe, and at one point and place in time he had toddler chipmunks, tiny mammals, playing on his lap; his vibe was that calm. I like to think it was Autumn, and the leaves were changing color. Edwin quit his job as plant manager for a small arms manufacturer. Those guns had been used in World War II and he was tired of war. My dad similarly quit his job at the aerospace company where they manufactured F4 fighter jets that were used in the Viet Nam war. Dad was also tired of war. Too bad we all aren’t tired of war. It is said that one of Edwin’s uncles or great uncles was the first democratically elected president of Germany, and he preside over the trembling collapse of the Weimar Republic. I bought his biography from Amazon. He looked like family, and his political leanings felt a lot like family. Wendell? I’m not so sure about him, but mom told me that when he would come walking down the alleyway munching on a candy bar she knew he had quit drinking for a spell. Gin. Lots of it. I just don’t know, but I gotta get to prepping for work. The image of Grandpa Edwin sitting on the porch will be my inspiration today. It’s all about young chipmunks.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

That Kind of Day

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“Activity and rest are two vital aspects of life. To find a balance in them is a skill in itself. Wisdom is knowing when to have rest, when to have activity, and how much of each to have. Finding them in each other – activity in rest and rest in activity – is the ultimate freedom.” ~ Sri Sri Ravi Shankar

“Each wave that rolls onto the shore must release back to the ocean. You are the same. Each wave of action you take must release back to the peace within you. Stress is what happens when you resist this natural process. Everyone needs breaks. Denying this necessity does not remove it. Let yourself go. Realize that, sometimes, the best thing to do is absolutely nothing.” ~ Vironika Tugaleva

“Rest is synonymous with grace, which is never seized by force but always taken hold of freely by faith.” ~ John Koessler

The opening photo is not meant to convey a mood, rather it is meant to convey an unrealistic craving. See, I really want a cloudy, cold, snowy day, but only one or two of them. No more than that. Alas, tis not meant to be. Instead it is status quo, cat and coffee, tired and restless. Once again this morning tis just a short blog post. Those same stories I mentioned yesterday could be told, but not today. I’ve got a nice little group of cool anecdotes to share, but they don’t need to be told. I keep forgetting that. There is a whole lifetime of . . . geez, I lost that train of thought. Whatever. Yes, the idea of the noted cloudy, cold, snowy day remains with me and likely shall throughout the coming day. For some reason I almost feel like tossing out a chain of Hallmark card aphorisms and ditties, but I won’t. I respect y’all readers more than that. I would never do that to you. Odd thought, I know. I’m just playing around with words and ideas and whimsy and stuff. It’s going to be that kind of day.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

A Little Attitude

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“Even as a child, she had preferred night to day, had enjoyed sitting out in the yard after sunset, under the star-speckled sky listening to frogs and crickets. Darkness soothed. It softened the sharp edges of the world, toned down the too-harsh colors. With the coming of twilight, the sky seemed to recede; the universe expanded. The night was bigger than the day, and in its realm, life seemed to have more possibilities.”  ~ Dean Koontz

“Use the wings of the flying Universe,
Dream with open eyes;
See in darkness.” ~ Dejan Stojanovic

A lone coyote just howled in the dark. It almost sounded like a wolf. Then it was gone, off in the distance, silence. Yeh, well, except for the hiss in my ears, which is particularly strong this morning. No worries. It is a perpetual phenomenon with me, in me, whatever. When I go to work, surrounded by the mini-cacophony of life in the marketplace, it recedes, but it is never gone. Never. Poor me, right? Anyway, enough of that. There are numerous stories from my recent adventures that I could relate this morning, but I am just not into writing them out today. I’ve got some kind of respiratory muck going on lately, then I hear yesterday that whooping cough is going around. Oh, that’s nice, he said ironically. We’ll see. Likely I will have enough common sense should the muck become more prominent; like go on down to the Urgent Care, and take my chances on which practitioner I get. The last time I was there, for some respectable sinus disturbance, I got a young woman, a nurse practitioner. It was the first time in my life that I got pissed off at a healthcare provider. What riled me was the depth of her pedantic posture; it was almost patronizing. I almost whipped out my vocabulary and articulation, but I thought, sought, whatever, better of it. But no. I just let her finish the lecture uninterrupted.  It seemed the right thing to do. All in all I was snagged in a little attitude of mine. Live and learn.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

To Use A Lazy Razor

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“Past and future monopolize the poet’s sensory and intellectual faculties, detached from the immediate spectacle. These two philtres become utterly clear the moment one stops being hypnotized by the cloudy precipitate constituted by the world of today.” ~ Andre Breton

“TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY. Not true. Today is another day. We have no idea what tomorrow is going to be. It might turn out to be another day, but we can’t be sure. If it happens, I’ll be the first to say so. But, you know what? By that time, it’ll be today again” ~ George Carlin

Just a few minutes ago I realized that I haven’t heard many dogs barking in the neighborhood lately. Maybe the best kind of quiet is when you don’t even know it is quiet? But I’m not going to hurt myself thinking about that. Earlier my mind was kind of drifting toward time and magic, but, recognizing that I was also on the verge of philosophy, I nipped that right in the bud. Ain’t goin’ there, not if I can get away with it. I’m not back in the swing of being at home again quite yet. But I’ve got the cat and coffee thing going alright. Just the basics. Yesterday morning had a unmistakable undercurrent of season-change to it. I can feel that primal mini-thrill, still today. It ain’t goin’ away at this point. It will help me get more grounded, seein’s how I ain’t been that too much lately and it’s about high time I get to it. Which reminds me, the beard needs trimming, and the razor has been much too lazy lately. I noticed the grooming issues a couple of hours ago, when I looked into the mirror, thinking I was being courageous, to see just how friggin awful I looked, reckoning by how bad I feel, physically speaking, this morning. Turns out I look a lot better than I feel. Go figure. I ain’t hurtin’ myself thinking about that one either. Best go put that lazy razor to use. Bueno bye.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

A Watercolor Sky

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“To see evil and call it good, mocks God. Worse, it makes goodness meaningless. A word without meaning is an abomination, for when the word passes beyond understanding the very thing the word stands for passes out of the world and cannot be recalled.” ~ Stephen R. Lawhead

“The limits of my language means the limits of my world.” ~ Ludwig Wittgenstein

Home again. It’s been a bad week, to be sure. I like what Calvin, of the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes, said about when life gives you lemons: you chuck ’em right back. Anyway, it’s good to be home. After a too short sleep in my own bed, and whatever those mild anxiety dreams showed me, I am tending to agree with Calvin. Hmmmm . . . hard times make you stronger? Yeh, eventually. Whatever. Details aside, I reached one of my unwritten limits on Saturday. Irreversibly shattered that sucker. It was a reactive thing that put me there, and the reaction was strong enough to effectively knock the crap out of my Sunday, because the emotion, the depth of it, was not only stunning in it’s intensity, it didn’t hold back anytime too soon, as if to drive home the point that it maybe ain’t so wise to bottle all the stuff up, with a twist-off cap instead of a cork. Point well-taken. Thanks, Reality, I’m glad to see you. I’d reckon the president about finished you off maybe for good, dude. Don’t be a stranger, k? Thanks, yer a pal. Oh, Calvin, bud, how’s your throwing arm feeling today, good? Cool, let’s commence ta chuckin’ us some lemons. Yeh, you can bring your tiger and I’ll bring my cat. Now, all that silliness aside, ummmm . . . . now what? Oh! I gotta work today. Yesterday I mostly sat on the deck of the house where I was house-sitting. The view is tremendous from there. So I puffed a little and gazed at the Sacred Mountain a good part of the day, one ear trained on the politics news flowing through the front window, after  first flowing from the TV, as if it were the magic porridge pot. The mountain and the herb yanked my soul right back out where it can see what’s going on. In my worldview we are supposta live within our soul, not have it stuffed away in some plastic tote in some closet somewhere. One of the key benefits of breaking a limit like I did the other day is that such an event not only serves as a spiritual laxative, pratfall, whatever, it is also inherently transcendent. Before I go off like some Bodhisattva cadet I’m gonna wrap it up then go have a looksee, ta see iffin the sunrise has much pizzazz to it. I’d prefer a pastel display. Make it watercolor, k? I do love a nice watercolor sky.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.