open the arms wide

exhausted.

savaging the wilds of late nights and early mornings. working. volunteering. dates. friendships. healing from an illness. walking. dancing. live comedy. reading. playing with children. everything but sleep.

it's been lovely. but so is sleep.

when i started this entry, it was storming. when the lightning really started coming down, i unplugged the computer because i've heard that power surges are bad and can fry your laptop (possibly an urban myth designed to fool luddites like myself). then the power went out, and i was glad i had done so.

i love how the line was immediately drawn for me; what one can do with power, what one does when there is no power. it was peaceful. it simplified my life enormously. read, play your own damn music instead of someone else's, create art, interact with your immediate surroundings, go to bed. (of course, given my state of mind, after connecting with neighbours and supplying children with flashlights, i went to bed. incidental cheer for headlamp inserted here.)

i feel out of sorts. my priorities are rearranging themselves, my activities are changing. what i do when i have twenty extra minutes is different now. i have different routines, desires, i've engaged in so much newness in the past two months, my sense of control is blasted wide open. who knows what this is like when i've stopped comparing it to anything? i love the sense of freedom from the past, but i sort of miss the rumination.

at work yesterday, someone decribed the edge of my energy field as they felt it. they said mine is larger than most, and demonstrated being just outside it, then inserting their arm. and i did feel differently as this happened, though who knows why. since i was aware he was doing this, it could have been a personal reaction to him, or following the idea that i want to think i have an energy field so large and so sensitive.

it's fun, but a bit absurdist to test one's reality now that we're even slightly aware of the power of the human mind to imagine things. i was chatting with Special Friend about dreams, and we got onto the things in dreams that don't come through. we can't read. digital clocks are screwy. what does this tell us about our unconscious? that our unconscious doesn't care about these, or doesn't speak the languages? that these are very much outside of us, and only influence us when we're awake? it's not numbers that are being ignored, i think. or even time. it's the system of communication. why write it down when our unconscious can just create the experience directly?

sure does make everything suspect though. "pinch me, am i dreaming?"

we're really not sure.