My dearest friend dedicated a song to me and this blog. She found it on a cd by Lucinda Williams and gave me the whole cd. If I knew how, I would link it here. I always think it's funny how people think of you when you aren't around and they have no reason to think of you at all. It is a gift of abundance that exceeds words. And I love it when it happens and I get to find out. Here are a few of the lyrics.
Lucinda Williams: "Car Wheels on a Gravel Road"
Car wheels on a gravel road
Low hum of voices in the front seat
Stories nobody knows
Got folks in Jackson we're going to meet
Car wheels on a gravel road
Cotton fields stretching miles and miles
Hank's voice on the radio
Telephone poles trees and wires fly on by
Car wheels on a gravel road.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Poem of the Day
I get a daily poem in my email box. Some of them I love, some not so much. This one spoke to me, as therapy has always been of consequence in my life. Kenneth Koch captures it this way.
To Psychoanalysis
I took the Lexington Avenue subway
To arrive at you in your glory days
Of the Nineteen Fifties
when we believed
That you could solve any problem
And I had nothing but disdain
For "self-analysis" "group analysis" "Jungian analysis"
"Adlerian analysis" the Karen Horney kind
All—other than you, pure Freudian type—
Despicable and never to be mine!
I would lie down according to your
Dictates but not go to sleep.
I would free-associate.
I would say whatever
Came into my head.
GreatTroops of animals floated through
And certain characters like Picasso and Einstein
Whatever came into my head or my heart
Through reading or thinking or talking
Came forward once again in you. I took voyages
Down deep unconscious rivers, fell through fields,
Cleft rocks, went on through hurricanes and volcanoes.
Ruined cities were as nothing to me
In my fantastic advancing.
I recovered epochs,
Gold of former ages that melted in my hands
And became toothpaste or hazy vanished citadels.
I dreamed
Exclusively for you.
I was told not to make important decisions.
This was perfect.
I never wanted to.
On the Har-Tru surface of my emotions
Your ideas sank in so I could play again.
But something was happening.
You gave me an ideal
Of conversation—entirely about me
But including almost everything else in the world.
But this wasn't poetry
it was something else.
After two years of spending time in you
Years in which
I gave my best thoughts to you
And always felt you infiltrating
and invigorating my feelings
Two years at five days a week,
I had to give you up.
It wasn't my idea.
"I think you are nearly through,"Dr. Loewenstein said.
"You seem much better."
But, Light!Comedy! Tragedy! Energy! Science! Balance! Breath!
I didn't want to leave you.
I cried. I sat up.I stood up. I lay back down. I sat. I said
But I still get sore throats and have hay fever"
And some day you are going to die.
We can't cure everything.
"Psychoanalysis!
I stood up like someone covered with light
As with paint, and said Thank you.
Thank you.
It was only one moment in a life,
my leaving you.
But once I walked out,
I could never think of anything seriously
For fifteen years
without also thinking of you.
Now what have we become?
You look the same,
but now you are a past You.
That's fifties clothing you're wearing.
You have some fifties ideas
Left—about sex, for example.
What shall we do?
Go walking?
We're liable to have a slightly frumpy look,
But probably no one will notice—
another something
I didn't know then.
To Psychoanalysis
I took the Lexington Avenue subway
To arrive at you in your glory days
Of the Nineteen Fifties
when we believed
That you could solve any problem
And I had nothing but disdain
For "self-analysis" "group analysis" "Jungian analysis"
"Adlerian analysis" the Karen Horney kind
All—other than you, pure Freudian type—
Despicable and never to be mine!
I would lie down according to your
Dictates but not go to sleep.
I would free-associate.
I would say whatever
Came into my head.
GreatTroops of animals floated through
And certain characters like Picasso and Einstein
Whatever came into my head or my heart
Through reading or thinking or talking
Came forward once again in you. I took voyages
Down deep unconscious rivers, fell through fields,
Cleft rocks, went on through hurricanes and volcanoes.
Ruined cities were as nothing to me
In my fantastic advancing.
I recovered epochs,
Gold of former ages that melted in my hands
And became toothpaste or hazy vanished citadels.
I dreamed
Exclusively for you.
I was told not to make important decisions.
This was perfect.
I never wanted to.
On the Har-Tru surface of my emotions
Your ideas sank in so I could play again.
But something was happening.
You gave me an ideal
Of conversation—entirely about me
But including almost everything else in the world.
But this wasn't poetry
it was something else.
After two years of spending time in you
Years in which
I gave my best thoughts to you
And always felt you infiltrating
and invigorating my feelings
Two years at five days a week,
I had to give you up.
It wasn't my idea.
"I think you are nearly through,"Dr. Loewenstein said.
"You seem much better."
But, Light!Comedy! Tragedy! Energy! Science! Balance! Breath!
I didn't want to leave you.
I cried. I sat up.I stood up. I lay back down. I sat. I said
But I still get sore throats and have hay fever"
And some day you are going to die.
We can't cure everything.
"Psychoanalysis!
I stood up like someone covered with light
As with paint, and said Thank you.
Thank you.
It was only one moment in a life,
my leaving you.
But once I walked out,
I could never think of anything seriously
For fifteen years
without also thinking of you.
Now what have we become?
You look the same,
but now you are a past You.
That's fifties clothing you're wearing.
You have some fifties ideas
Left—about sex, for example.
What shall we do?
Go walking?
We're liable to have a slightly frumpy look,
But probably no one will notice—
another something
I didn't know then.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Looking in from out.
I was thinking today how life comes in two view points...one is the up close in my head ultra personal and the other is stepping back watching it like television being in love with the characters ultra safe personal. And I wish I could do more of the second and less of the first. It seems like everyone at work is struggling with this. And I have had one up on them, since in the past three months I have worked hard at changing my perspective on things...mainly changing my perspective on me. But, also work. I decided one evening that I would no longer dream about work, which I did night after night. And once decided, there have been no more. But, it was a decision as strong as "I will go to work" or "I will take a shower" or "I will walk the dog". One of those decisions that you make without making it...most of the time. It is a routine rather than a choice. Of course, you can vary it...work early, or stay late, shower early or shower late, walk the dog right or left or now or in an hour. But, you will do them. This is the same mentality that I have been using for life and work and it's working. But, I still lose focus. I feel like the race lately is about losing focus. And I love it when I step outside myself for a couple minutes and view the scene that I am in. I have a great job...I LOVE the people I work for and with. I have fabulous friends, and spend time with them consistently enough to feel like a part of their life, and them a part of mine. I am happy with my animal family...it suits me, allows me a lot of freedom, but holds me accountable to a commitment about love and respect for other life forms.
When I step outside myself, it all looks not that bad. So, I want to get better at this, view from the side dish. It certainly gives the day's entree a totally different flavor.
When I step outside myself, it all looks not that bad. So, I want to get better at this, view from the side dish. It certainly gives the day's entree a totally different flavor.
Friday, April 4, 2008
(Sigh...)
I don't know.
Peace out.
Find your flavor.
Drive a batmobile.
Play a tamborine.
Wrestle noodles.
Frame medley.
Bask naked in a hidden cave.
Breathe from your toes up.
Agonize over nail polish.
Freak over fancy.
Bemuse the threat of irony.
Strap on frivolity.
Misconceive certain objects.
Banter about tightropes.
Soul search sloppy joes.
Feed some birds.
Watch water.
Preview conclusions.
Intend tomorrow.
Find it.
Cook crispy.
Align insanity.
Tolerate simplicity.
Capture and release.
Add to this....
Peace out.
Find your flavor.
Drive a batmobile.
Play a tamborine.
Wrestle noodles.
Frame medley.
Bask naked in a hidden cave.
Breathe from your toes up.
Agonize over nail polish.
Freak over fancy.
Bemuse the threat of irony.
Strap on frivolity.
Misconceive certain objects.
Banter about tightropes.
Soul search sloppy joes.
Feed some birds.
Watch water.
Preview conclusions.
Intend tomorrow.
Find it.
Cook crispy.
Align insanity.
Tolerate simplicity.
Capture and release.
Add to this....
Thursday, April 3, 2008
A few good things and a couple bad ones.
This is the great thing that I read today about the new Miss Surrey, who is the first plus-size contestant to run for Miss England. I love Kate Harding...she is so sharp, so funny and so passionate about equality.
It's rainy today and I'm more nervous than usual. At work today, they said that the criminal roaming around this small area will have to come inside as it has gotten so cold and wet. Of course, Bentley is on overdrive...so he is barking and I am dousing lights and grabbing the phone. I don't like living this way...but think about the millions who do it every minute. I am so fortunate, and I do realize that. But tonight, scary is just scary.
I had my review today at work. Always a nerve-wrecking time for me. I do well, don't get me wrong. And you cannot sneak up on me with a complaint or criticism because I can analyze the hell out of everything I do, and I know where my weakness lies. It was a good review though. I heard a lot of good things. And the not-so-good but not bad things were exactly what I had on my goal list to focus on in the coming season. I came away from it feeling clear-headed, knowing that I am on track with the company and we are all seeing me move in the same direction. That's refreshing. And I usually don't HEAR the good things. I lay them aside and focus on the bad ones. Didn't do it so much this time. Kinda let a few of the good things seep in and keep close. I love it, but it can be such a stressful job and I forget sometimes that I can be really great at it. It was nice to be reminded.
I think that's all I have to share this evening. Leftovers for dinner...but marvelous iced mint tea. And rain...lots of rain. Let me know how you are....
It's rainy today and I'm more nervous than usual. At work today, they said that the criminal roaming around this small area will have to come inside as it has gotten so cold and wet. Of course, Bentley is on overdrive...so he is barking and I am dousing lights and grabbing the phone. I don't like living this way...but think about the millions who do it every minute. I am so fortunate, and I do realize that. But tonight, scary is just scary.
I had my review today at work. Always a nerve-wrecking time for me. I do well, don't get me wrong. And you cannot sneak up on me with a complaint or criticism because I can analyze the hell out of everything I do, and I know where my weakness lies. It was a good review though. I heard a lot of good things. And the not-so-good but not bad things were exactly what I had on my goal list to focus on in the coming season. I came away from it feeling clear-headed, knowing that I am on track with the company and we are all seeing me move in the same direction. That's refreshing. And I usually don't HEAR the good things. I lay them aside and focus on the bad ones. Didn't do it so much this time. Kinda let a few of the good things seep in and keep close. I love it, but it can be such a stressful job and I forget sometimes that I can be really great at it. It was nice to be reminded.
I think that's all I have to share this evening. Leftovers for dinner...but marvelous iced mint tea. And rain...lots of rain. Let me know how you are....
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Dirt Road Walking
The old church by the stream.
Spring showers...
Bring April lions! (roar, rrrrrrrroar)
Two best friends in black and white. Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Breeze banter
It's evening and almost summer. Just sitting by the pond, and hearing children's voices across the way. Something going on at the elementary school. Car doors closing, dad's talking in stern voices, giggles. It's almost summer, not quite but close. And the days are longer and this evening just 20 minutes ago, I wore a t-shirt, but ten minutes ago, it changed to a jacket, and just now, I am keeping the jacket on in this house. Sun set. Changes the elements of everything.
Makes me wonder if I ever had secret dreams of a family, a husband, children. I don't think so. But, I always covered so much up with all my insecurities. Blankets of "should not", "could not", "no good at", "would like fail", etc, etc. So, that daily, I am faced with some new realization about myself. Which is fun, actually. Sortof amazing, to still be learning grand things about who you are...which I guess we all do if we are paying attention. But the painful things, the ideas that might later cause regret...those are what I worry over. When I decide to sit by the pond in the evening sun and worry.
The kitties are taking over. Running here and there. And Magi is fun to watch because he is patterning after BAnjo. And I think she likes it. Wouldn't admit it, but seems to, just a bit. The spotted dog is jealous...of their friendship, of my attention, and sad that he is too big and scary to be part of the playtime. I can't afford another dog. That's the truth of it. So, he will just have to live with it. We all live with one thing or another.
The criminal is still on the loose and when we turned to walk left...I heard gun shots, two. And turned right instead. I think it might be gobbler season, but I don't keep up. So, I was a bit scared...but the coast seems clear. I sat out for a good while and nothing more was shot.
I had crazy dreams about Gene Simmons last night. And we won't go there, because it ain't pretty. But, don't you wonder what is up with your dreams sometimes? I barely even liked the group. I can't imagine how he got into my psyche. They say you should put yourself in each character, or that is what is being played out...different parts of yourself in different characters. And sometimes that works out.
What's my point? I don't reckon I have one. But, if I had to pull one together, it would be this: the season's are changing again, and I'm not quite sure what's on my mind. It feels on the soft wind like something's coming, but I'm not sure what, or where, or when.
Makes me wonder if I ever had secret dreams of a family, a husband, children. I don't think so. But, I always covered so much up with all my insecurities. Blankets of "should not", "could not", "no good at", "would like fail", etc, etc. So, that daily, I am faced with some new realization about myself. Which is fun, actually. Sortof amazing, to still be learning grand things about who you are...which I guess we all do if we are paying attention. But the painful things, the ideas that might later cause regret...those are what I worry over. When I decide to sit by the pond in the evening sun and worry.
The kitties are taking over. Running here and there. And Magi is fun to watch because he is patterning after BAnjo. And I think she likes it. Wouldn't admit it, but seems to, just a bit. The spotted dog is jealous...of their friendship, of my attention, and sad that he is too big and scary to be part of the playtime. I can't afford another dog. That's the truth of it. So, he will just have to live with it. We all live with one thing or another.
The criminal is still on the loose and when we turned to walk left...I heard gun shots, two. And turned right instead. I think it might be gobbler season, but I don't keep up. So, I was a bit scared...but the coast seems clear. I sat out for a good while and nothing more was shot.
I had crazy dreams about Gene Simmons last night. And we won't go there, because it ain't pretty. But, don't you wonder what is up with your dreams sometimes? I barely even liked the group. I can't imagine how he got into my psyche. They say you should put yourself in each character, or that is what is being played out...different parts of yourself in different characters. And sometimes that works out.
What's my point? I don't reckon I have one. But, if I had to pull one together, it would be this: the season's are changing again, and I'm not quite sure what's on my mind. It feels on the soft wind like something's coming, but I'm not sure what, or where, or when.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
