after two am on a wednesday, and the elm city is covered by a gauzy blanket of fog. the leaves hang heavy with moist anticipation of inevidable decay. the hospital's newest buildings vie for our attention with their mercurial beams, demanding "look over here. i am important." and everything, including myself, is coated with an unnamed dewiness.
an eeewiness.
there is a certain sticky quality to this time of year in new england that lingers sulkily in my bones. in my muscles too. especially when it's so damned damp. i am stiff. i feel like i need an oil can- like the tin woodsman. season changes always effect my physical body in odd ways.
autumn truly is a picturesque season; it's so lovely, it may be argued that it's teetering on pretentious and showy. halloween is just around the corner- less than 4 full days away. i adore halloween. so- what's the deal? why so sombre? again?
i too am covered in a gauzy blanket of fog. this fog has softened my edges of cultivated boundries and mysteriously cloaked my reality of the space between present and future just beyond immediate view. but the fog [my favorite expressed weather expression of mother nature's] is a welcome emo-logical necessity. up there with a good ol' fashioned shit-storm... that one will show ya what you're made of all right.
the fog descends- sometimes quickly, other times sneakily upon you and you can do one of a few things-
a] ignore it. go to bed.
b] shine a blasting yellow fog lamp on it. use intimidation tactics. get to the heart if it. now.
c] wade through it slowly and hope you don't stub a toe, or worse- fall off a cliff.
you guessed it right. i'm going with c.
unlike those stereotypical gorgeous blue skied puffy cloud days, or the flip-side twin: the rainy drear-fest, the fog is forgiving and unpredictable- both literally and figuratively speaking. i'm not referring to the medicine-head fog or jetlag type stuff here, but the lazy cousin of the dark night of the soul stuff.
it's not kin with numb, although some may think thus. nor is it kin with snow cover. when numb, one is [usually overwhelmed to such a severe degree that renders them] unable to feel, and may be immobilized in other areas as a result. the snow cover may seem kin to fog but is only on the surface, and leaves the person with perspective. goddess bless you if you have snowshoes.
here's why i like those foggy times:
a] it buys me time to feel what i am feeling without pressure to understand, analyze, or change those feelings. for a change.
b] it's a truly neutral state of be-ing. not positive or negative. just is.
c] when it passes, i usually am better for it, and wiser.
so, i'm off to bed to rest my weary head, and hope that i dream lush dreams, and will see you all there...
gra-tu-i-tous |grəˈt(y)oōitəs|
{ORIGIN mid 17th cent.: from Latin gratuitus ‘given freely,spontaneous’}
adjective:
1. uncalled for; lacking good reason; unwarranted : gratuitous violence.2. given or done free of charge : gratuitous advice.
vi-o-let |ˈvī(ə)lət|{ORIGIN Middle English : from Old French violette} adjective:
vi-o-let |ˈvī(ə)lət|{ORIGIN Middle English : from Old French violette} adjective:
1. a bluish-purple color seen at the end of the spectrum opposite red.
noun:
2. a herbaceous plant of temperate regions, typically having purple, blue,or white five-petaled flowers, one of which forms a landing pad for pollinating insects. • Genus Viola, family Violaceae.
3. ME.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Jealousy and her ugly sisters- Pettiness and Insecurity
Maybe it's just the change in weather. Maybe it's the change in my living situation. Maybe I ate too late last night. Either way, I have had a hell of a time waking up in a rested, calm state. Can't remember the last time I did. It's been that long. But lately, I have reached into my invisible bag-o-tricks to cope, and it's taken the edge off: The lists of gratitude helped. Sometimes. Affirmations helped. Until they didn't anymore. Writing morning pages was great. Then they were too much effort. I used to go to the gym, or take a jog. Now I'm on foot everywhere I go and am not interested in more calouses. So now what?
Today I tried to do affirmations, but they felt weak and insincere. I tried breathing in the love and light of the universe, but the air was stale. So, I got up and took a long hot shower. I decided to surrender to feeling cruddy, but not wallow in it, and tell myself that the day could only improve.
I enjoyed my walk into work. After realizing that I forgot my apron, and had to wear a silly plastic one, I found myself in a silly mood. Okay, an improvement already. Due to an oversight on my part. The day went without too many hitches, and I managed to keep my mood up.
Then it was time to leave.
Now, at the restaurant, the changing of the guards is usually a pleasant one. Bye-byes all around, and the people leaving are happy to go, and the people coming in are as fresh as they will be for the night shift. For the most part.
So why, I ask you, dear readers, (if in fact you do exist,) do the women* I work with smile in my face and trash me to shreds when they think I am not in earshot? It's simple really...
Jealousy.
Let me toot my own horn here for a moment:
A Toots-2-Me List (OR a List of Reasons Bitches are Jealous of Me)
Style. I have oodles of it & no $$. They have money, but no style (& think GaGa is original.)
Brains. I enjoy intelligent conversation. They enjoy TV and... ?
Sincerity. If I ask how someone is doing, I mean it. They m%th#rf*ck them when they walk away. Nice.
Creativity. My worth is not defined by my finances, or my relationship status. I am an artist, who just happens to have a second job. They have nightclubbing and shopping. WHOOOOOO!
Love. No matter where I go, I send love outward. It comes back- in many ways and forms. I know I am loved. Even if I'm having a bad day. They have pettiness and insecurity. How sad.
So- even though I just spewed @ these bitches for being mean-spirited, I have gained a perspective about myself: I'm doing fine.
I don't respect the people who act ill towards me, or behind my back, yet I feel a certain sense of compassion for them. Their lives must be as shallow and as starved as they act. Pitiful.
Yes, I'd like more money, to have things, go places, and not be forced to struggle so much, but in the bigger picture, most people in the world are doing @ the same as me, or have even less. I'm doing okay. Maybe even better than okay.
If tomorrow I wake up and am in an irked state I can tell myself this:
Violet, You ARE Doing Fine. Better than FINE.
And I can put on a fabulous dress and walk to work...
* Not everyone I work with sucks. Some are great. Some.
Today I tried to do affirmations, but they felt weak and insincere. I tried breathing in the love and light of the universe, but the air was stale. So, I got up and took a long hot shower. I decided to surrender to feeling cruddy, but not wallow in it, and tell myself that the day could only improve.
I enjoyed my walk into work. After realizing that I forgot my apron, and had to wear a silly plastic one, I found myself in a silly mood. Okay, an improvement already. Due to an oversight on my part. The day went without too many hitches, and I managed to keep my mood up.
Then it was time to leave.
Now, at the restaurant, the changing of the guards is usually a pleasant one. Bye-byes all around, and the people leaving are happy to go, and the people coming in are as fresh as they will be for the night shift. For the most part.
So why, I ask you, dear readers, (if in fact you do exist,) do the women* I work with smile in my face and trash me to shreds when they think I am not in earshot? It's simple really...
Jealousy.
Let me toot my own horn here for a moment:
A Toots-2-Me List (OR a List of Reasons Bitches are Jealous of Me)
Style. I have oodles of it & no $$. They have money, but no style (& think GaGa is original.)
Brains. I enjoy intelligent conversation. They enjoy TV and... ?
Sincerity. If I ask how someone is doing, I mean it. They m%th#rf*ck them when they walk away. Nice.
Creativity. My worth is not defined by my finances, or my relationship status. I am an artist, who just happens to have a second job. They have nightclubbing and shopping. WHOOOOOO!
Love. No matter where I go, I send love outward. It comes back- in many ways and forms. I know I am loved. Even if I'm having a bad day. They have pettiness and insecurity. How sad.
So- even though I just spewed @ these bitches for being mean-spirited, I have gained a perspective about myself: I'm doing fine.
I don't respect the people who act ill towards me, or behind my back, yet I feel a certain sense of compassion for them. Their lives must be as shallow and as starved as they act. Pitiful.
Yes, I'd like more money, to have things, go places, and not be forced to struggle so much, but in the bigger picture, most people in the world are doing @ the same as me, or have even less. I'm doing okay. Maybe even better than okay.
If tomorrow I wake up and am in an irked state I can tell myself this:
Violet, You ARE Doing Fine. Better than FINE.
And I can put on a fabulous dress and walk to work...
* Not everyone I work with sucks. Some are great. Some.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Sore QL, and purring ZZ
I woke in a tizzy. A sprouting pimple above my top lip was throbbing like a techno dance track. I felt like I woke in a strange place. My back hurts- still. 3 weeks of dull to sharp pain. (Not that I have stretched my bod enough...) & I'm rocking a wicked case of the blues. Or the blue-violets.
But my cat- Zenobia- affectionately nicknamed ZZ is by my side offering supportive cat love. Purring next to me.
Wait just a moment. My cat has something she wants to tell us.
Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Relax.
Sit in a sunny spot and lounge.
Have a luxurious bath in the middle of the day- on the kitchen floor, if applicable.
Zenobia wants us to live in the moment.
She wants us to give love.
She wants us to enjoy what we have.
Which leads me to a related topic a'la last night- a list. A less snarky list.
A grateful list.
It's one way I rely on (sporadically- haha) to snap me out of the soul-stifling ego-ruling human condition I find myself wallowing in so often.
What I'm grateful for now:
Fletcher & Zenobia. These 2 sweet kitties are over 17 years in age, and have given me nothing but joy since I adopted them eons ago. They are the embodiment of selfless loving.
My employment. I work part-time at an art school in town where I teach clay arts and also am a studio potter. Sooo fun & the perfect creative outlet for me now. I also work part-time at a vegetarian restaurant where I meet lots of fun people and get to eat yummy food. Art and food- my two favorite things to make and enjoy and share!!!
Loved ones. People I have known for weeks. People I have known forever and a lifetime. People I love, and who love me. I can feel their presence when they lovingly think @ me- even if they are far far away. Now that's the good stuff! We are all here to give love and support one another. So many lessons to learn and teach each other.
My loved ones are my marrow, and my passions are my bones.
My health. Touchy subject for this mega-Virgo! Let me state as a pre-ramble to the complaints- I am of sound body and mind. I walk all over town. Have all my digits. Use all 6 senses regularly, and am well equipped with intellectual faculties which I enjoy on a regular basis... That being said- As per mention of my sore QL (Quadratus Lumborum-) I could be feeling body-better. I want to be eating better on a regular basis. (Was raw-vegan for a jaunt. Amazing. I will do it again when I can.) Let's face it- I'd be healthier if I lost a few pounds. Yet the most focus goes to: my mental state. My mind plays tricks on me. I have been trying to remember to discern it's tomfoolery. Runaway thoughts lead to unruly emotions. Leading to the dreaded No-No Land. So I breathe through it; I breathe through the sore back thing. I breathe through the grocery/diet frustration. I breathe through the spinning wheels in my over-filled brain.
And come back to center.
List the moment's realities.
What am I doing? What are the physical sensations I am experiencing?
I am lying on my stomach in bed while I type this blog. I hear the passing cars outside, the quiet gurgling of my computer, an airplane overhead, zz bathing herself at the foot of my bed. I am hungry and thinking @ food. I breathe in. I breath out.
Do I want coffee or tea? Breathe in. Breathe out. I need to feed the kitties. Breathe in. Breathe out. Should I take a bath before I go out? Breathe in. Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe
In.
Breathe
Out.
Breathe.
I am grateful that I quit smoking for my birthday.
And I will
continue to
Breathe
But my cat- Zenobia- affectionately nicknamed ZZ is by my side offering supportive cat love. Purring next to me.
Wait just a moment. My cat has something she wants to tell us.
Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Relax.
Sit in a sunny spot and lounge.
Have a luxurious bath in the middle of the day- on the kitchen floor, if applicable.
Zenobia wants us to live in the moment.
She wants us to give love.
She wants us to enjoy what we have.
Which leads me to a related topic a'la last night- a list. A less snarky list.
A grateful list.
It's one way I rely on (sporadically- haha) to snap me out of the soul-stifling ego-ruling human condition I find myself wallowing in so often.
What I'm grateful for now:
Fletcher & Zenobia. These 2 sweet kitties are over 17 years in age, and have given me nothing but joy since I adopted them eons ago. They are the embodiment of selfless loving.
My employment. I work part-time at an art school in town where I teach clay arts and also am a studio potter. Sooo fun & the perfect creative outlet for me now. I also work part-time at a vegetarian restaurant where I meet lots of fun people and get to eat yummy food. Art and food- my two favorite things to make and enjoy and share!!!
Loved ones. People I have known for weeks. People I have known forever and a lifetime. People I love, and who love me. I can feel their presence when they lovingly think @ me- even if they are far far away. Now that's the good stuff! We are all here to give love and support one another. So many lessons to learn and teach each other.
My loved ones are my marrow, and my passions are my bones.
My health. Touchy subject for this mega-Virgo! Let me state as a pre-ramble to the complaints- I am of sound body and mind. I walk all over town. Have all my digits. Use all 6 senses regularly, and am well equipped with intellectual faculties which I enjoy on a regular basis... That being said- As per mention of my sore QL (Quadratus Lumborum-) I could be feeling body-better. I want to be eating better on a regular basis. (Was raw-vegan for a jaunt. Amazing. I will do it again when I can.) Let's face it- I'd be healthier if I lost a few pounds. Yet the most focus goes to: my mental state. My mind plays tricks on me. I have been trying to remember to discern it's tomfoolery. Runaway thoughts lead to unruly emotions. Leading to the dreaded No-No Land. So I breathe through it; I breathe through the sore back thing. I breathe through the grocery/diet frustration. I breathe through the spinning wheels in my over-filled brain.
And come back to center.
List the moment's realities.
What am I doing? What are the physical sensations I am experiencing?
I am lying on my stomach in bed while I type this blog. I hear the passing cars outside, the quiet gurgling of my computer, an airplane overhead, zz bathing herself at the foot of my bed. I am hungry and thinking @ food. I breathe in. I breath out.
Do I want coffee or tea? Breathe in. Breathe out. I need to feed the kitties. Breathe in. Breathe out. Should I take a bath before I go out? Breathe in. Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe
In.
Breathe
Out.
Breathe.
I am grateful that I quit smoking for my birthday.
And I will
continue to
Breathe
Crackpot Funfacts- Pt.1
Let's just start off with the primary funfact that pops into my cerebral cortex:
I love to make lists...
I love both functional and frivolous lists. Lists which consist of items to be crossed off. Lists that rhyme +/or reason. Lists with lisps. Listless lists. Incongruous lists. Cryptic lists. I adore them all.
I love making lists because a list provides order, offering a well-placed distraction/procrastination often resulting in perspective.
Take the classic:
the to-do list
[my most recent]
relax / breathe deeply
hot baths
seek/attract meaningful employ
meditate (?)
organize laundry
get quarters
go to target (lead to another list)
eat better
call fulana
cat time
clean (yet another list)
get crafty
daydream
and so on and so forth
another fave of mine:
the duality list
what an indulgently superfluous fun list.
yum. yum. barf.
the duality list may comprise of the following or related to the following in no particular order:
love it/hate it
stay/go
in/out
pro/con
which leads me to the reason i started this blathering in the first place.
i was watching snl and bronx beat came on. it cracks me up every time- but katy perry was on for a pinch, and i'm not a fan of hers. so in my head, i'm listing sketches and guests i liked on snl, and those who bit it for whatever reason.
a hug them/slap them list came to mind
both are impulsive and gut reactionary
no premeditated thought required
hug/slap
amy poehler/katy perry
happy-dopey dogs/yappy-scrappy dogs
tiny corn/bob- that creepy furniture peddler
kids who naturally use foul language/dacota fanning
obese cats/human guardians of obese cats
giant men who drive teensy cars/teensy women who drive giant suvs
mini-scale house-ware tchotchkes/precious moments figurines
chipmunks/jimmy buffet "music"
hatchetface/miley cyrus
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