dreams

43 things

I have been having some fun lately with trying to make my own list of 43 things, which I'll post here soon, I promise.

Although I had some inkling already, perhaps only on an instinctual level, that life was supposed to be fun, it was through sharing this house with Ann for a while, that that concept became even more clearly crystallised in my mind. She exposed me to more writers and thinkers in that synchronous way life has of doing these things, that deepened my understanding even more.

But I often forget what I have learned, and am chagrined to admit that I have to re-learn it again and again.

Years ago I read this quote from Marianne Williamson, from her A Return to Love, Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles, Harper Collins, 1992. From Chapter 7, Section 3 (Pg. 190-191). It is often mistakenly attributed to Nelson Mandela, who used the quote in his inaugural speech, 1994, especially the last sentence of that quote, “As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

(For reference, here are links to two official African government sites with Nelson Mandela's 1994 Inauguration Speech:
Mandela: Inauguration Address - Cape Town, 09 May 1994, via South Africa Government Online Official Web site.
Statement Of The President Of The African National Congress Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela At His Inauguration As President Of The Democratic Republic Of South Africa Union Buildings - Pretoria, 10 May 1994, via ANC's (African National Congress) Official Web site.)

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are
powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens
us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does
not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other
people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children
do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not
just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we
unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated
from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

It sometimes shocks me how often I hear lots about the unhappiness of the people I meet. Listen to the talk around you at work, for example. How much negativity do you hear? What is the general tone? Is everybody complaining, angry, blaming? At the store, on your errands, how often do you encounter people who are having fun with what they do, who are filled with enthusiasm, happily absorbed in their work? And notice that if you suggest that life should be fun, you probably really, really piss them off. "Life is hard...and then you die", is an old aphorism my ex often quoted.

However, I believe that when we spend our energy focusing on what is "wrong" with our lives, more of that has a way of showing up. What? But I don't want it! But it's true, isn't it, that you know people who spend so much time focusing on the bad stuff that keeps showing up, again and again, that even if something good happened to them, their response would be," yeah, BUT..."? They hardly notice the good stuff. And well, it just makes sense to me that if we live in a responsive universe where our energy can affect our environment, that energetic vibration of the hoped-for good stuff is hardly going to grow stronger. That constant vibration of a song "in a minor key", as my Dad often said, can only find a corresponding vibration of negativity in the universe.

So, I'm busy making a list of fun things that ignite my passion, playing with the ideas that sound like FUN! I asked my friend Irene recently what might be on her list. She said that since #1 on her list would have been to sleep with Elvis and since that's not possible, #1 is to hold a baby gorilla. I could so picture that, the thrill that would be, that I have borrowed that and added it to my own list.

By the way, Irene inspires people to find and give her all sorts of Elvis memorabilia because people love to help other people achieve their passions. Isn't that interesting?

Irene did go Memphis and visited Graceland, a couple of years ago. Not able to sleep with Elvis, as she has dreamt of, she did the next best thing and stepping over the barrier-rope during her tour of Elvis' mansion, she sat her butt on the edge of his bed. That promptly set off security alarms, of course. And Irene delights us all with her unrepentant exultation in that experience.

By being a little more brave, admitting to the things that I dream to be or do, "brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous", some of the things that my conditioned mind is all too ready to slap down as rather too grand, I hope to line up better with the positive energies of the universe.

What might be on your list?

dried up

I keep telling myself this is temporary. It won't last forever. Those are the phrases I keep repeating to console myself.

There are reasons, I tell myself. I have many reasons for feeling like I'll never write another word that is interesting. I wonder if anything I have ever written is interesting. I wonder if perhaps I shouldn't take my writing and just hang the cd's from the scarecrow in the garden this summer -- not that I actually even have a scarecrow. Certainly the stuff I bled all over my handwritten journals should probably be shredded and burned. It might not even burn, damn it!

I'm so stuck that I feel like I am glued to this chair. I'll just continue to sit here, maybe connected intravenously to the coffee pot, munching on the most grossly artery-plugging junk food I can find, slowly swelling up, growing bigger and bigger, bulging out of the chair, until finally I just leak out onto the floor, on and on...like some giant, disgusting fungus-like science-fiction monster.

Did I mention I have reasons? Hmmmm. Now what were they? Oh. Maybe one of them was the overwhelming newness of a new computer and it's new operating systems. Maybe it's because all the bugs haven't been worked out yet. Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe I'm worried that all the negotiations I have been making to arrange my trip to Ethiopia will just fizzle out because I'm too tired to finish anything. Maybe I just don't know where to start with the mundane chores I've been neglecting: the dishes, the laundry, the garbage, the tidying. Paperwork and bills are piling up. Changes I have contemplated making towards getting a new and different paying job mean taking action that I haven't taken. I'm worrying that I'm not keeping an eye on Misty, caring for her after her surgery, as well as I should. I'm worried that I'm missing symptoms of possible complications because I don't feel confident in my powers of observation. A new and expensive supposedly squirrel-proof bird feeder isn't. Spider mites on the lemon verbena and the hibiscus are taking over. The rosemary is probably unhappy in the warmth of the south-facing window. Even daydreaming about the plans for the coming season's gardens seems like a chore. I haven't even started to order any seeds yet because I don't know what it is I might want.

Oh. And then there's guilt. I haven't talked to any of my kids for days or is it weeks? I miss hanging out with my Granddaughter. I haven't done lunch for ages with M. or F. or K. or C.. I wonder if I'm even capable of meaningful relationships.

OK. That's what I feel like. Maybe I shouldn't resist it, allow myself this day to feel miserable. Some more rational part of me is trying to remind me that I have had some marvelous fun lately, very recently in fact: a dinner party, great conversations, nourishing heart-to-hearts with understanding friends, glorious snow, brilliant sunshine, birds at the feeders. I'm going to ignore my conscience which is telling me to be grateful today. I'm going to be a grump just for today and wallow in it. Maybe after getting thoroughly disgusting, I'll get it out of my system. Then perhaps, the inspiration will return and I'll be re-energized.

I dreamed last night that I was stripping wallpaper from a wall in an old house. This house, (the house I live in, not the abandoned house across my laneway of the photos above) but only vaguely so. It was incredibly satisfying and I was happy.