The procrastinator’s mantra: Tomorrow’s another day.

It’s the close of the second day of a new year. In my twisted way of looking at things, the very first day doesn’t really count…it’s intended as a day of feasting accompanied by a relaxing day devoted to ‘re-adjustment.’ Far be it from me to break tradition…sometimes. Besides, it poured rain most all day yesterday so there wasn’t much of anything more appropriate to do.

Today, the sky was clear and the sun smiled upon us, though the ground remained a muddy SOUP. Since I could not get to sleep last night (er, this MORNING) till around 5am, I slept in till 11am this morning. Took another good hour-hour and a half after rising for the residual fog to clear. By the time I felt that I might still be alive and able to function, the day was over half gone. So I opted to hang out indoors again and try to get some much overdue computer work done, among a host of other things, most of which did not get done. Not sure WHY so little was accomplished, as I’ve not been UNbusy all day, since regaining consciousness. Perhaps the day seemed unfruitful because the day was over half GONE before I got STARTED?!

Tomorrow’s a new day, another new beginning. Like the new year, a new path lays before us each morning, not just once a year, but every day…all white and pure and uncluttered and full of opportunity. Some days will seem better than others. If one day is less than perfect, there’s always the hope that accompanies each new day…

(Click here to see the White Christmas in South Carolina 2010 gallery!)

Thoughts on duality, oneness, identity, and other random weirdnesses.

It’s difficult going through life as a split personality…Piscean curse I suppose. Of course, both blessings AND curses are double-edged swords anyway…you have the blessing on one side and the curse on the other. The trick is in learning how to effectively WIELD the darn things. This split personality thing tends to lead some people to believe that I’m just nutty as a fruitcake…others think it makes me ‘interesting.’ Most EVERYone will find that maintaining a relationship with me (no matter the level of intimacy) will be absurdly challenging.

On the one hand, I have a deeply spiritual, benevolent, altruistic side, capable of the most admirable self-sacrifice and charity. On the other, I’m equally capable of being an unbearably boorish, solipsistic old bag.

In the face of challenge, I’m capable of unwavering determination and perseverance, tempered with an equal tendency to bolt and run like a wild prey animal at the slightest hint of anything out of the ordinary.

I have an innate aversion to being controlled by anyone or anything – a sometimes unruly tendency toward rebellion against BOUNDARIES. In other words, I will often allow myself to be controlled, but ONLY if I CHOOSE to be, and ONLY for as long as I WISH to be. And there must ALWAYS be an escape route in CLEAR view, and just as easily accessible, just in case (aka HORRIBLY claustrophobic). Some people call this a ‘free spirit.’ I think this is just a KIND of way of saying ‘you’re WILD.’

I am capable of exercising the tenaciousness of a pit bull, while still often finding it difficult to finish many things I start. I think part of this is my short attention span (though never officially diagnosed as such, there is no doubt in either my own mind nor that of anyone who knows me well, that I am CHRONICALLY afflicted with Attention Deficit Disorder), and part is that I tend to become bored quite easily. Which is just one of many reasons I now tend to shy from relationships with the opposite sex…what I want in a mate today, could be completely different from what I may want next week. What turns me on one day, may utterly turn me off down the road. Worse yet, what may today be a desire to have someone compatible with whom to share my life with, may tomorrow be “Get outta my face and go find something to DO with your annoying self!” It would simply not be fair to expect ANY man to be able to play the many different roles that would be required to hold my interest indefinitely. Fortunately for mankind, now that I’m no longer the hot little thing I once was, there’s not really a long line of men convinced I would be worth taking on the challenge to conquer my peculiarities anyway. In fact, there is no line at ALL. Pfffffft….

I can often find enough middle ground to enable me to get along well with most anyone, even those who dislike me, or those whom I dislike. I may often come across as clueless, and as though I have no idea what’s going on around me. I find this technique to be invaluable, particularly in associations with deceitful and treacherous individuals. When you allow someone to believe you’re clueless, and that they can easily pull one over on you, they tend to become rather careless, thereby exposing their own treacheries all the more clearly…not only to you, but everyone else. It gives me a smug sense of control, knowing that I KNOW the truth about what they are, and that THEY are really the ones that have no clue. (Nor are they aware of the subtle subversities that I will often exercise to undermine those who treat me badly.) I have no issues with someone disliking me…it could very well be that I don’t like them either. Just don’t TREAT me as if you dislike me. Do not lie to me and do not lie about me (if you do, I will know, but YOU will likely never KNOW that I know), do not use me (excessively…MODERATELY is often okay), do not arrogantly mock me unjustly. JUSTIFIED mockery is sometimes acceptable, but only from those who have the self-awareness to acknowledge that THEY are equally as imperfect – most such folk HAVE no such self-awareness…if they did, they would not be arrogant.

I have a relatively high tolerance for pain, whether physical or emotional. It’s not that I don’t FEEL it, it’s just that I’m too stubborn and proud to let on like I do. I wasn’t always like that…when I was young, I wore my heart on my sleeve. After a few decades of adult life, one learns that is not a wise practice. The other extreme – encasing said heart within a thick, multi-layered stone wall is probably equally as unwise – yet another area in which I am constantly struggling to find balance. As  impenetrable as my walls may appear to be, the observant person will notice that the ‘innocents’ (children, animals, the elderly, the generally abused, helpless and downtrodden) have free access to move in and out of said walls at will. Please note, if you are ever granted access to said heart, and you VIOLATE that privilege in any way, you will be permanently expelled. When I’m done with someone emotionally, I’m done…there is no going back. I can be civil, sometimes even ‘nice’ to you, but you will never again be allowed even within shouting distance, of the deepest places. When I’m done, I’m DONE.

So this is me…the two fishes swimming in opposite directions. Sometimes, one may be swimming a bit more vigorously than the other, but more often than not, it’s a constant contest. You can never be quite sure as to which you will be dealing with – good luck with that one. The majority of my life journey has been spent desperately seeking a comfortable place of BALANCE between these 2 inherent extremes. This has proven to be an awkward undertaking unsuited for the faint of heart. Fortunately, I have a pretty STRONG heart…God KNEW someone like me would NEED said endurance to tackle these ‘blessings’ he has bestowed upon me. Perhaps the first day of a new year is as good a time as any to do an introspective evaluation of oneself – figure out who you are, as opposed to what you SHOULD be – get your bearings and figure out WHERE you are, as opposed to where you SHOULD be, or WANT to be. I’m not really sure I’ve accomplished either in this treatise (or would this be a manifesto? or is it just bullshit?), but at least I put forth the effort. And have hereby had enough COFFEE to now greet the world with at least some semblance of awareness…

(Then again, perhaps this enlightened state of AtOneness is not all it’s cracked up to be…it looks a bit SCARY TO ME…)

For those who are not familiar with the title, The Screwtape Letters is a Christian apologetics novel written by C.S. Lewis, first published in 1942. The story takes the form of a series of letters from a senior demon named Screwtape, to his nephew, a junior tempter named Wormwood, so as to advise him on methods of securing the damnation of a British man, known only as “the Patient.”

In the words of uncle Screwtape:
“I had not forgotten my promise to consider whether we should make the patient an extreme Patriot or an extreme Pacifist. All extremes, except extreme devotion to the Enemy (God), are to be encouraged. Not always, of course, but at this period. Some ages are lukewarm and complacent, and then it is our business to soothe them yet faster asleep.

Whichever he adopts, your main task will be the same. Let him begin by treating the Patriotism or the Pacifism as a part of his religion. Then let him, under the influence of partisan spirit, come to regard it as the most important part. Then quietly and gradually nurse on to the stage at which the religion becomes merely a part of the “Cause,” in which Christianity is valued chiefly because of the excellent arguments it can produce in favor of the war effort or of Pacifism. The attitude which you want to guard against is that in which temporal affairs are treated primarily as material for obedience. Once you have made the World an end, and Faith as a means, you have almost won your man, and it makes very little difference what kind of worldly end he is pursuing. Provided that meetings, pamphlets, policies, movements, causes, and crusades, matter more to him than prayers and sacraments and charity, he is ours—and the more “religious” (on those terms) the more securely ours. I could show you a pretty cageful – down here. ”

Your affectionate uncle.
SCREWTAPE”

In the words of another noteworthy, famous Man comes this sage advice: “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.

And they marvelled at him. (Mark 12:17 ~ King James Version)

Click here to view the entire 2010 Great Pumpkin album, to be in progress until after Halloween!

Does it seem to you that time is passing by unusually slow on this blog?

Why is focus such an elusive thing to me? Why do I find it so difficult to concentrate on just one thing at a time, and finish everything that I start. It seems my whole life is just one long series of starts and stops and turns. I am so pitifully, miserably, easily distracted. I have a gluttonous mind. I get bored very easily. What I want two weeks from today may be totally opposite of what I want today. Sometimes I feel like a feather in the wind…no definitive direction, no control, no purpose. A feather’s purpose is to protect a bird from the elements and to enable flight and controlled landings. But once separated from the bird, it’s just a pretty, wispy thing floating around in the air.

I remember when I was visiting Spring Mill State Park with a friend earlier this year, at times the air was so filled with wispy, feathery white seeds that it almost looked like snow. It was almost as if the air was charged with a sort of magical quality. But though they looked like feathers, and were carried about like feathers, they weren’t really feathers, but seeds.

I hate stagnation. Give me a babbling brook or a roaring waterfall any day, over a placid lake. The glassy top of a peaceful lake is a beautiful thing to behold, I just don’t feel like I have a lot in common with it…I feel much more attuned to water that is in constant motion. FRESH water. The ocean is okay, but I need more trees and grass and hills…and LIGHT, CLEAN air. The ocean’s salt is too heavy. I’m drawn to green, misty mountains, not flat, sandy, salty beaches and expansive horizons of sameness.

I hate day in and day out SAMEness. There is a part of me I think, that actually longs for the stability of sameness, while at the same time is bored to tears with it…resulting in an almost constant state of restlessness. I’m a walking, talking in-the-flesh paradox…a constant contradiction. So much so that at times, I often find it quite difficult to live with myself.

So am I a seed or a disconnected feather? Actually, the seed is disconnected too, the major difference being that the disconnectedness of the seed has a purpose and the disconnectedness of the feather does not. I guess I’m neither a seed nor a feather…just an old lady who needs to go to bed…

It’s been one of ‘those’ weekends…I feel like crap on a stick. Still, it WAS a WEEKEND, and those are sacred under any and all circumstances.

“I always loved running… it was something you could do by yourself, and under your own power.  You could go in any direction, fast or slow as you wanted, fighting the wind if you felt like it, seeking out new sights just on the strength of your feet and the courage of your lungs.”  ~Jesse Owens

“Jogging is very beneficial.  It’s good for your legs and your feet.  It’s also very good for the ground.  It makes it feel needed.”  ~Charles Schulz, Peanuts

I don’t know what brings such things on…these weird, unpredictable, creepy moods that seem to strike from out of nowhere for no logical reason whatsoever. Yesterday wasn’t a bad day in any way, shape or form. But suddenly, around 8 or 9 pm, I was just overwhelmed with a weird, extremely discomforting restless mood.

Sometimes, I feel like a hamster in a wheel. So many things I want to see, to learn, to experience. So many things I want to be. But only one short lifetime, most of which is spent doing all the things that grownups HAVE to do and so FEW of the things I really WANT to do.

I think Randi’s right…it’s the Mercury Retrograde.

As Sunday comes to a close, I’m feeling only slightly better. Perhaps because I ate a scrumptious homemade cheeseburger for supper. I sat around like a slug a good part of the day feeling sorry for myself because I missed an invitation to go trail riding in the forest, because I have a crappy $20 phone that doesn’t work half the time. I COULD have saddled up my mares and gone trail riding by myself in the weeds near our home where I USUALLY go trail riding, but it seemed more fulfilling to just stay indoors, do laundry and feel sorry for myself. Besides, it was hot outside. I didn’t even lay in the sun. I just didn’t feel like going to the effort of laying in the water. Damn Mercury.

Atticus is most assuredly the slowest learner I’ve ever rehabilitated. He has spent a good part of the last couple of days hanging in his cage on the bird feeder station pole. Today he enjoyed the company of a large clan of young robins. I wish I could have figured out how to incorporate the assistance of the group leader in teaching Atticus to hunt worms and grasshoppers for himself. He’s finally beginning to show just a hint of hunting inclinations. Today, he actually caught and ate 3 worms all by himself! It may have been more than that. I can’t be sure if he caught and ate more or if they just made a getaway and crawled out of the cage. I removed the paper towel from the bottom of his cage and replaced it with grass, and threw the worms in the grass, along with some corn. Have I mentioned that Atticus loves grass? And apparently, the Sports page of the Herald-Journal…

I have had moments here and there over the past few days where I perhaps COULD have written something, but was simply too exhausted to try. I felt too drained to come up with anything creative, valid, significant, etc., much less come up with an accompanying image. Contemplating this dilemma led to the following internal dialog on the subject of significance. Since I felt the ‘significance’ of the subsequent revelation was…uh…significant, I hereby take the lazy way out and make this interesting internal dialog today’s post:

“There’s nothing to say.”

“There’s ALWAYS something to say.”

“No. There’s NOT. Really.”

“Then why are you still talking?”

“Okay, I mean I’ve nothing SIGNIFICANT to say.”

“EVERYthing you say is significant.”

“Huh?”

“Words have creative power. They create pictures in the mind, they stir emotions. They can validate or destroy. Words create our realities and contribute greatly to the realities of others. You KNOW this.”

“Wonderful. So now I’m reminded that it’s really that much MORE important that I say something significant.”

“EVERYthing you say is significant.”

“What if I just don’t FEEL like saying ANYthing at all?”

“The voice of silence can be louder than words.
Silence is significant.
Everything is significant.
Sometimes, what you HEAR when there’s nothing to hear is even more significant that what hasn’t been said.
Sometimes, even nothing is significant.”

Look closely at today’s image. There’s something very ‘significant’ in the picture that can be easily overlooked. Do you see it?