I HAD A DREAM

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My favourite speech is Martin Luther King’s famous I Have a Dream. I’ve been having more dreams lately and remembering them after. They’re not anything like King’s. I’m usually screaming in them. Last night I dreamt I was in the upstairs shower. Even though I had double latched the door, a man intruded. I was puzzled. How did the door get opened? The latches were the the hook and eye type like the ones on our side gate. He was looking for someone. I didn’t scream this time. I told him to go back downstairs. There was a party going on.

It just occur to me that all my dreams are related to an intruder. In the previous dream someone stepping through the basement window. I could see the leg and the sheer curtains fluttering. That’s when I tried to scream. It felt as if I couldn’t get it out but apparently I did. I woke up the dog and the guy. In my dreams, I never see faces. The leg and the window was the most vivid picture I could recall from all my dreams. Mostly I remember screaming and calling for help. I wonder why. In my younger years, I dreamt of ghosts sitting on and paralyzing me.

The day has sped away on me. I haven’t made any progress on my intentions of transplant-ing more seedlings or starting more seeds. My work tables and desk are as cluttered as ever. They’re nightmarish. I have no excuse really except for my usuals of being tired and full of aches and pains. I’m getting sick and tired of my own thoughts and whines. I will descend and attack those areas in a short while. Famous last words, right?

But in spite of my snail’s pace, I haven’t fallen behind. I just haven’t progressed. I did skip my exercise class this morning. Why aggravate my physical pain? I will swim on the weekend. It will be easier on my joints. The lunch dishes got done and put away. Sheba and I managed to get to the park after lunch. It was easier than walking on treacherous icy sidewalk. There was lots of happy energetic dogs and their humans. It  gave me an extra boost on this cloudy day. Now, I’ve shown up here, tapping out my words.

Okay now, I’m ready to tend to my work spaces. The guy has made a table for my new sewing machine. It’s like a dream come true. I’ve never had one – a special table or dream come true. It has sections that fold out or in. I will have space when I get past my 6 inch squares and into a big quilt. It will fold onto itself when I’m not sewing and fit in a small corner. It should help me organize my ‘stuff’. It might take me a long time but I can start.

BEING A STEADY EDDY

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Funny how the weather can affect my body. My mind is delighted with the bright sunshine. My physical body is voicing its displeasure. The whole of me hurts as if I’m being fried alive. It doesn’t feel any better ‘resting’ so I try to move and do my stuff as best I can. Prepping a cloth square for free motion sewing takes my mind off the pain.  No point sitting and suffering. I might as well spot clean messy areas that bug me – the bathroom and the backdoor mats.

I’m reaping the reward of ‘keeping up’. On days like this, I can afford to ‘slack off’/take it a bit easier. I’m getting the hang of living life block by block, being Steady Eddy. No more burning the candle at both ends, then die sputtering thereafter. The wind has whipped up. It is chilling. I’m not hankering on taking Sheba out for her walk. But I will – after I’ve sit a spell and tapped another sentence or two.

I have done well. I feel somewhat better after taking my parents to the library, then coffee. My mother still likes to read and learn about everything. My father likes the outing. It was an easy thing for me to do for them. It didn’t feel that way before I went. But once I start, I had to keep going. The outing broke up my fatigue and discomforts. Now, to bundle up against the wind and take the dog out. The exercise will do us good.

We’re back. The wind was not bad with my hood up. The walk eased the ache in my back and hips. It’s like getting a lube job. It’s true what they say. If you don’t use it, you’re going to lose it. I’m feeling delicious now, sipping a cuppa and eating a sweet Chinese pastry. One doesn’t feel quite enough, but I will refrain. Tomorrow is another day. Stretching out the goodness.

MAINTENANCE TOOLS

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Maintenance is important but very difficult for me. I rather close my eyes, walk away and not think about it. It catches up with me eventually and I have to deal with it. I’m trying to understand this phenomenon to make life more pleasurable. I suppose it is one of those things that has no explanations or it is plain obvious. Who wants to deal with their shit? Let’s not do the digging in head thing and just get on with it.

I’m observing myself and learning how difficult it is to overcome the habitual patterns of my old self. It feels so uncomfortable thinking and feeling, never mind doing different. The discomfort is painful in a sense that I’m stuck. I can’t go forward but I don’t want to go back. My body yearns the same old. My mind is fighting it. No, you don’t! It’s like wrestling food from Sheba’s jaw.

I’m hanging in there. It’s my daily struggle and challenge. It’s all a part of index cards, free motion sewing squares, daily walks with Sheba and charting my progress here daily. I’m still reading Breaking the Habits of Being Yourself. I have read 39% of the book. I don’t feel I’m being obsessed with things. I’m doing daily little bit of the things that matter and I enjoy. They’re like building blocks of stick-to-it-ness. I see the improvement little by little in my index card art and my free motion sewing. Seeing it gives me pleasure, satisfaction and encouragement to keep on, maintaining my momentum. The little cards and blocks are my tools.

I’m applying little blocks of time to organize my activities of daily living – clearing my clutter, keeping me and the house in health and order. It’s working, albeit much slower in the house department. Some things are harder to do than others. The plants are pruned, watered and fertilized this morning. The orchids are waiting to be repotted tomorrow. There’s endless things to tend to. Thinking in small blocks of time enables me to think everything is do-able. If I think the whole enchilada, I will stall and shudder to a complete stop for sure. So here’s to the little building blocks of success.

 

THE UNREACHABLE STAR

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Sometimes I am dogged by melancholia, especially on a bright sunny almost spring day. I feel obligated to be joyful, exuberant. I’m full of guilt because I’m not. It is all very silly because I have no obligations to be anything else except what I am. And who is to know really if I don’t tell? But, of course, I’m shouting it out now, aren’t I? Oh, well! I’m not sad just languid. This is just me so I should stop talking about it, relax and enjoy. I can be like Snoopy and fantasize about being the life of the party, the toast of the town, the starlet, the artist, the writer. People roll out the red carpet for me. Yea, I can dream on -being not who I am.

Fantasies can be uplifting. I had a chuckle tapping them out. That did the trick. I don’t have to live them. Sometimes I get in a mood – of not belonging. I have no tribe. I don’t have much in common with other people. It would make me unique – a good thing you would think. But in this case, I feel detached, disconnected, afloat without an anchor. Have you ever felt that way? It’s like you are standing alone in a crowd. They’re all talking to everyone else except you. You probably have since I’m know I am not unique or special.

It’s great to run across Steve McCurry’s blog post on reading when I’m feeling thus. I feel not so isolated or alone reading these words. We read to know we are not alone.
– C.S. Lewis. His photographs and quotes are beautiful and touching. I like to fantasize creating and writing such beautiful images and words. I like having those dreams to reach for. I want to work towards the unreachable/reachable star. It’s something I need, an anchor/stablizer. Otherwise, I would be adrift in this vast universe.

This is the kind of person I am. Serious, no changing that. I think I do have a lighter side – somewhere. Need I worry?

 

WHEN THE BOTTOM FALLS OUT

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I always arrive here at the end of the day. Good time to sum up everything but I want to lounge and vegetate. I want to curl up with my glass of wine. Supper is still in the making so I’ll wait. Maybe a cuppa decaf can coax the words from me. The bottom of my day/jar literally fell out in the morning. There I was, standing in the kitchen, holding a jar of soup while the bottom clang to the floor. Good thing the soup was still frozen. Otherwise, what a mess!

It wasn’t indicative of how everything went. I had a pretty good day after the bottom fell out. I am still on track reading Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself. I’m applying what I’ve learned. I’m trying to stop waking up to the same day over and over like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. That would be a daymare. My yesterday was not so good. I felt tired and down. I didn’t want the same so I visualize myself as I want to be – energetic and up. I went into the phone booth of my mind and put on my Wonder Woman costume. And voilà!

I packed my gym bag with my swim paraphernalia so I was ready to go at the appointed time. No excuse to skip since I couldn’t find this or that. Next I headed downstairs and transplanted the rest of the tomato seedlings. It was not an earth shattering exciting day. All the same it was very satisfying to me, not having the fatigue. I will remember to be kinder to myself when I am tired. The natural progression from that is feeling down. There’s no need to punish myself more for feeling that way.

The day is done. I’ve had my swim and feeling the more relaxed and mellow for it. It pays to make an effort to go. The dog is walked, supper ate and wine consumed. The dishwasher is slushing away. All my little art projects done for the day – the red cardinal for 365 somethings 2018 and my painted cloth block . They’re on the sidebar under my Instagram if you care to look. Time to shut it down till tomorrow.

 

THE SLICE OF MY LABOUR

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I love words. My favourite word used to be copacetic. It still is. I first heard it listening to Tara Brach. It has such a copacetic sound to it. Just one word to describe. I’ve found another word to add to the list – Micromovement. I believe it’s originated by SARK. You can download her little booklet of how to’s on her site. I like to take the micro and apply it to every-thing.

Micro works very well for my dyslexic brain. My mind sees the whole picture but cannot see how each part fits/works. When someone tells me directions to a place or how of anything, I am overwhelmed by it all. I can’t get past the first sentence. The blind is already coming down. Whereas if it is written, I can read one direction at a time and reread if necessary. I can make one micro connection at a time.

This morning I was feeling so overwhelmed by all that I felt I wanted to do. I could not do any of it because somehow I couldn’t break it down step by step. The most wanted thing was transplanting my tomato seedlings. They are getting very lanky. They are still waiting for me. I baked bread instead. It’s a much bigger task but I have done it regularly for a number of years. The steps are almost embedded in my being. It was no struggle at all. It was a very fluid thing and I am now enjoying the slice of my labour. I will attend to the seedlings after I’m finished.

So, now supper is over and done with. I am ready to cuddle up to the TV. I did transplant my Big Beef Tomatoes. It took 10 minutes for 10 seedlings, a minute per plant – one micro-movement. Now I have to micro-move myself to a micro shower.

 

A MICRO HISSY FIT

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Having a micro moment of irritation. Wasted a couple of hours following through not procrastinating on ‘need to do’ chores. Was on hold for too long waiting for the ‘next available’ receptionist at the Veterinary Clinic to make appointment for Sheba’s yearly checkup. Was not successful. Should have waited till Monday as I was inclined. Then wasted more time online trying to register for President’s Choice Optimum card. After a bunch of Oops, something went wrong! it worked somehow. Why don’t everybody scrap their frigging points cards and sell at the proper price. Instead, they choose to make us jump through hoops for points. And we obey!

Okay, micro hissy fit over. I have to unwind from the day. My head is as usual full or empty. It’s not working well is what I mean. I am as usual tired. I thought I was done with the whining. It’s my end of day jabbering. Pay no mind. I’ve paid my bills so I’m happy about that. Also had an awesome exercise class this morning. And an interesting conversation with someone. Sheba and I had a good outing at the park after lunch. She could be a little more mellow though. Such a frisky gal for coming 12 years old.

What I need is a little supper and a glass of wine. I am sure I will mellow out after that. Still I am happy to be here, tapping out a few words and thoughts. I picked up some new ideas on Instagram for painting on cloth to use with free motion sewing. It has exciting possibilities. I haven’t thought about cloth as a medium before. Now I see it doesn’t have to be complicated. It is as simple as wetting my cloth. Then to draw or paint with my Inktense blocks, which is what I did on the underside of my cloth. When it dries, I will free motion sew on the top side, following the contours of the flower pattern,

I’m not talking as coherently as I could but doing my best at this time of the day. Good thing I’m not sipping wine yet. I will soon.

OVERRIDING MYSELF IN microMOMENTS

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Here’s to me trying override myself using Sark’s Micromovement Magic Method. It’s nothing new. I’ve been using it. It helps that she’s given it a name and  made it into a  booklet form. Something written with colourful steps makes it concrete and magical. You can download it for free.

The magic lies in starting. It’s the alchemy moment. Once you start, the rest will follow. I heard that phrase in a yoga video. The instructor said, Bring one knee to your chest and the other one will follow. The sentence has played in my head many times when I am having difficult moments. I’m playing it this morning. So many yukking things weighing me down. Yup, they are not difficult but unpleasant for me to deal with. I don’t quite understand the ‘unpleasantness’.  It’s the procrastination that is unpleasant, the feeling of I should do it but I don’t want to. I’m transferring that remembered unpleasant feeling to everything I do. It’s become a bad habit.

My indecisiveness causes much unnecessary grief. There are so many things to agonize over. Most of the time they are not really worth it. For instance the recall of my car for faulty passenger airbag. What was hard about that? All I had to do is make an appointment and take the car in. They give me a ride back and forth. I don’t even have to pay. It’s not difficult now that It’s dealt with. But when I got the notice, I shovelled it under more paper. It’s my normal reaction – to be handle LATER. Ugh!

I’m trying to undo/override my habitual self in micromoments of 5 minutes at a time. I can make one dreaded phone call in 5 minutes. I can pay one bill in another 5 minutes. I can stew about a problem and options for 5 minutes and take another 5 to make a decision. Why don’t I take 5 and shed some remembered icky feeling and develop some delicious one to fill its place? Why don’t I….? Why don’t I….?

FRIENDS – MY SHORT LIST

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I feel as heavy and sodden as all the snow that fell the last few days. All the more weighty as I’ve just polished off 3 slices of leftover pizza from lunch with my ex-coworkers. It’s good to be a little social, breaking free from my hermit self. But I do require a lot of alone time. Too much social fluttering exhausts me. It’s the way I’m built.

It’s only logical that I don’t have many friends. I can handle only x number of people in my life. I used to feel so inadequate/lacking and ashamed. I was not a success. I felt like a wallflower, an accompaniment and not the main meal deal. Now at this end of life, my friend list is even shorter with retirement. I still feel like an accompaniment sometimes but I am content. I have a live-in and Sheba. We don’t always see eye to eye. Some days not at all. Sheba can be a brat and sheds hair everywhere. We are healthy and hearty. What more can I ask for?

I don’t ask for happiness. I work towards healthy body and mind. I feel I can do alot if I have that. I feel ever so tire still today. I always blame the weather. It’s another way I’m built but I manage very well. I got to my exercise class, socialize with ex-coworkers, took Sheba to the park, painted, read some more of Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself. I’m getting it. If I want change, I have to change my conversation, how I see myself, how I interpret my environment. Change is exciting.

ITS OVER

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Here it is the twilight hour and I have not yet started my conversation. I’m making a stab at it now. So many things running around in my head. Where to start? Well, I know how important a good night of sleep is. I didn’t get one last night. The dog had to go out in the middle of the night. I had a time getting her back in after. She wanted to play games and play hide and seek. I had to put my boots on to see what her problem was. Dogs are so silly sometimes. A shovel had displaced itself against the deck railing. She had lots of room to get by but not so in her dog head. The fresh winter air stimulated me enough to keep me awake for hours. Surprising how much wakefulness can make your muscles tense up. I’m still stiff and achy from it all.

I have no more detective/crime books to read at the moment. I had time to watch the snow flakes falling around the Buddhas this morning. It was such a delicious restful moment. I wonder why I don’t do it more often. Why must I get my head into a book or the Internet first thing in the morning?  Why not take time just to sip tea, look out at the world and wake up and feel my own body?

I hope I can smarten up and rid some of my addictions. I am working on my life, on what I say I would do. I’m reading on how in Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself. I’m understanding more about the law of attraction. I can’t explain myself though at the moment. My glass of wine is doing me in. It’s a difficult concept and not merely just asking for what you want. Maybe tomorrow, when my head is clearer, I can explain. What I know is that it is a breakthrough for me.  It is helping me drop some of the habits of being me. I see that ‘habits’ have kept me stagnant. I’m like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, waking up to the same day over and over. I want that to be over. What better way to exit than having Roy Orbison sing me out?