i find being ill interesting. for one, i pay more attention to my body, and it responds. for example, not being able to breathe through my nose, and working to find out which sinuses require pressure to relieve the situation, even temporarily. i treat myself with more care, and remember things like gentleness. rubbing my neck while waiting for soup to heat up, i learn how to let my neck rest without the weight of my head applying nasty pressure on misaligned vertebrae. this is a solution i do not remember from previous experiences. i hope i remember it when i rejoin the ranks of the quote-unquote healthy.
it's not just about learning, though. illnesses are fun. if i sound crazy, it's because i visually hallucinated over a stool in my bathroom today (the stepping kind, not the toilet kind). also, copious amounts of cayenne - fun and effective!
another surprise was falling down (only three) stairs yesterday. that point goes to the illness. i experienced shock and fear, of course, but i think i processed it right away; the release of trauma seemed manageable in one sitting (i was sitting alright - on the landing). have i finally learned about traction on hardwood? probably not.
as i gingerly continued down the stairs, the cat shot me a concerned look. yes really. i can tell her looks. they encompass (though are certainly not limited to) satiated, frantic, 'i'll pretend i didn't see that', irritated, affectionate/doe-eyed, affectionate/cold, trusting, don't-fuck-with-me and hungry/uncertain.
speaking of cats, i realize i am of that ilk. for many people this probably comes off as ridiculously obvious, but while i have always loved cats, i now see the cat in me.
October 27, 2009
October 16, 2009
tragic-land and back again
tings is lively. i appreciate this, as i live with more attention in lively times. of course, despite the liveliness and actual activities, you will hear about the books i've been reading.
finally finished the gaia book i first mentioned here. reading a zillion other books and about to start three more. in moods like this one, the most interesting point is what i am not reading. these include the yoga book (which i finished but keep around to look up asanas and sequences. haven't touched it in weeks) and david suzuki goes to japan, which seems too lovely for me right now. i need lengthy blah blah blahs, not concise and hopeful accounts of adventures somewhere fascinating i too, could visit, if i only got up off my ass.
was journaling last night about an odd lack of purpose and meaning in my life right now. since i was fourteen, my purpose existed, whatever it was and however it changed. self-improvement, empowerment, the practice of liberation, the cosmic wave of being, learning my environment, resolving past traumas... what now? all of these seem to be mixing together. none of them could ever be a finished project. the idea of purpose quickly becomes illusive, a creation of my own mind. yet i move on.
i wonder how my motivation works. i think i could benefit more from nurturing my emotional state toward one of achievement. the whiny 'that's dumb' voice is educating itself. its manipulation to convince me of the uselessness in nurturing myself can be hindered. most easily by simply picking up and doing the opposite: encouraging myself.
it's like there is a battle between superheroes going on, inside my brain, all the time. like my four-year-old friend, the names of the heroes change all the time but the storyline is ancient. what would happen if good and bad were to finally agree? the big bang would turn out to have been a mild mis-communication between archetypes. the world as we know it would end (and, douglas adams posits, be replaced by something even more inexplicable and bizarre).
finally finished the gaia book i first mentioned here. reading a zillion other books and about to start three more. in moods like this one, the most interesting point is what i am not reading. these include the yoga book (which i finished but keep around to look up asanas and sequences. haven't touched it in weeks) and david suzuki goes to japan, which seems too lovely for me right now. i need lengthy blah blah blahs, not concise and hopeful accounts of adventures somewhere fascinating i too, could visit, if i only got up off my ass.
was journaling last night about an odd lack of purpose and meaning in my life right now. since i was fourteen, my purpose existed, whatever it was and however it changed. self-improvement, empowerment, the practice of liberation, the cosmic wave of being, learning my environment, resolving past traumas... what now? all of these seem to be mixing together. none of them could ever be a finished project. the idea of purpose quickly becomes illusive, a creation of my own mind. yet i move on.
i wonder how my motivation works. i think i could benefit more from nurturing my emotional state toward one of achievement. the whiny 'that's dumb' voice is educating itself. its manipulation to convince me of the uselessness in nurturing myself can be hindered. most easily by simply picking up and doing the opposite: encouraging myself.
it's like there is a battle between superheroes going on, inside my brain, all the time. like my four-year-old friend, the names of the heroes change all the time but the storyline is ancient. what would happen if good and bad were to finally agree? the big bang would turn out to have been a mild mis-communication between archetypes. the world as we know it would end (and, douglas adams posits, be replaced by something even more inexplicable and bizarre).
October 4, 2009
books and tea, books and tea
been reading a lot. alias grace, by margaret atwood. it's good to have an atwood or a munro on the go, i find. but i've been meaning to actually dig deeper into canadian. the genre exists. but i like those two authors specifically because they're smart and they don't try to be pretty. the bleakness earns my trust.
as well, an exploration into early sci-fi (and by early, they mean second century early), a series of cheap mysteries set in japan and jeanette winterson's art objects. it's interesting to explore visual art with someone who identifies so strongly with words. i feel relieved.
i guess time has passed, i don't feel much a part of it. i noticed today that the plants were all limp and the flowers looked drowsy. so i watered everyone. it helps. i guess i should do the things happy people enjoy doing. it occurred to me the other day that happiness is quite likely something one practices. i think i secretly have a vague concept revolving around smiles and sunshine and general agreeableness. so i've been practicing that: doing things in a way that gives me a happy feeling. it's hard. i often forget three minutes later and return to general survival numbness. but those three minutes are sunshine, not the light of the fire on the cave wall.
the happy feeling is part feeling cared for by myself, part wind on the face and part something indescribably wild, but calm at the moment.
as well, an exploration into early sci-fi (and by early, they mean second century early), a series of cheap mysteries set in japan and jeanette winterson's art objects. it's interesting to explore visual art with someone who identifies so strongly with words. i feel relieved.
i guess time has passed, i don't feel much a part of it. i noticed today that the plants were all limp and the flowers looked drowsy. so i watered everyone. it helps. i guess i should do the things happy people enjoy doing. it occurred to me the other day that happiness is quite likely something one practices. i think i secretly have a vague concept revolving around smiles and sunshine and general agreeableness. so i've been practicing that: doing things in a way that gives me a happy feeling. it's hard. i often forget three minutes later and return to general survival numbness. but those three minutes are sunshine, not the light of the fire on the cave wall.
the happy feeling is part feeling cared for by myself, part wind on the face and part something indescribably wild, but calm at the moment.
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