Great Spirit, Leave Me Wordless

Still thinking about the awesome power of our moments before we became enslaved to words, when we processed a sense of what happened around us with labeling it.  

When, as a baby who hadn't a clue that those sounds had meaning that could communicate or confuse, we sense the relationships between individuals & groups.  

How did those impressions sink into our mind?   

Common sense tells us they did.  

Our mind was unformed in the acceptably reasonable way, but it still functions even as a newborn.  Been wondering for months & months about the sense of those sense memories - how they're filed in my mind, how do they touch my life.  I have a tender feeling about them.  A longing to be liberated through wordlessness....

Fans & Deflected Light

Summer temperatures & night work in the computer studio has me longing for whole-house air conditioning.  Praise be for small, powerful fans & deflecting the beam of the studio light!  

I grew up in a family that "made do," had a sister who downright glorified creatively eeking by.  The older I get, the more it seems to me that "making do" isn't the virtue I once thought it was.  My change of thinking all started with, of all things, an oven.  A new oven, one that met my core needs, and a new microwave (recommended to purchase in conjunction with the new oven range, as it provides ventilation).  

A friend, horrified that two toaster ovens handle all my baking, offered to purchase us a new oven range (our's has been basically a very big 2-burner unit for several years).  When I asked for a budget, she told me to get what I needed.  Except, as it turned out, the final price tag was WAY over what she'd envisioned.

Instead of being crestfallen, I thanked her for her generous offer - because it surely was - then declined.  I'd seen what I need & "making do" with what was possible within the $ constraints was NOT an option.  Having tasted what really met my needs, and perfectly happy with my two brave little toaster ovens, settling for less would have been ghastly.  That might not make any sense to most people, but it's clear as day to me.

Why "settle" when you can be INSPIRED?  Why "make do" when filling a need can be a goad to taking actions that make the dearly desired my own?  

A lot of folks poo-poo ambition as a vice.  Not me.  Ambition is a spur.  Imagine where we'd be without ambitious individuals!  Competition was typically painted as a vice, too.  Back when I was in high school, the girls were only allowed to compete with other classes - competition against other schools, competition that brought similar glory to what the boys achieved, was frowned upon for females.  

Ambition & competition.  Sure, they can be vices, but to me they are twin virtues that help mere mortals reach for heights beyond their natural reach.  

An interesting rumination, springing from thoughts of a small, powerful fan & deflecting light so it doesn't turn the computer studio into a sauna.  Thoughts about a whole-house air conditioning system that might never become reality (then again, one never knows what can happen if it matters enough to set my thoughts & heart on it), and the oven range/microwave combo that someday surely will.  Moving past "making do" & "settling," embracing instead (however foreign they might feel) a wholesome sense of ambition & accomplishment-nurturing competition.  

DREAM BIG  ~  BELIEVE  ~  LAUGH OFTEN

Slogging Through

Expected to get so much accomplished in May - instead, it feels like I've been treading water, except it's been in a great vat of metaphysical oatmeal.  All has NOT been in place.

And that, dear friends, is part of an ancient pattern in my life that needs to be recognized, then set aside. Historically, the more I wanted to do something, the more I made it the last thing that was done, sometimes it never even was recognized with action.  Just blithering.  Because that's what dreams without actions is - mere blithering.

Well, at least I don't have to be an idiot.  Can get back the past 4+ weeks, but I can learn from them.  This turning things around isn't going to happen overnight or in a fortnight or even in four months.  But it can happen by simply keeping slogging through.  Don't let that vat of metaphysical oatmeal become quick sand that sucks me under.  Get over to the side of the vat & CLIMB OUT.  Might not be easy, but no one else can do it for me.

Instead of taking my self to task for not being more of the Task Type that's my true nature, realize that the voluntarily-induced amnesia of the past month is a sure sign that my current intended path onward & upward is spot on, or else I wouldn't have ignored it so persistently.  All that needs be done is ignore the deep desire to ignore, instead recognizing the powerful inclination to induce self-imposed slumbers which can only be undone by the invigorating awareness that breaks the spell.

Stop slumbering & keep slogging through!

Wee Small Kitty

Sky is such a wee small kitty, yet he's been the vehicle for such large lessons in my life.  


If John & I had acted "sensibly," Sky wouldn't have been with us longer than a scant day. Traumatized by rough care as a kitty, he'd been a challenge for his previous guardian, who'd had to put him into our care when her health situation necessitated finding new homes for her clowder of cats. 


The last thing Sky needed was fresh trauma.  Losing a human he'd come to trust, to be thrust into a large group of unknown & basically hostile cats - with the exception of Lakota, a sweet cat who came with him - shook the wee small kitty.  He basically hid under our bed, where he did all sorts of very smelly things.  


It took months & months for him to finally come downstairs.  Then, he took to sleeping with me, stretched out between my upper body & the back of the den couch.  I marveled at how he managed to breathe!  


Slowly, slowly he started sleeping on my chest - Sky IS a wee small kitty - then to my right, on another couch cushion, ultimately at my feet, and finally heading upstairs for the rare slumber with the other 2-leg in the house.  


He still doesn't use the litter box.  Hence, the well-diapered couch.  But he still occasionally does whatever in inconvenient places.  (Sky is the reason NO kitty is allowed in the computer studio, in spite of the basic good behavior of the others - too risky.)


Our house smells to high heaven because of that wee small kitty.  We don't have friends over, which goes completely against our natures.  He's been nothing but a detriment to the value of our house.  And he still doesn't get along with the rest of the cats, with the exception of his longtime housemate, Lakota - and even they aren't as chummy as they apparently were at Leslie's. 


All that being said, can't imagine my life without the lessons learned through that wee, small kitty.  If interacting with Jada & her kittens helped me connect to Ian, Sky has helped me gain invaluable insights into the challenges of parenting a "problem" child, of the importance of setting down well-defined boundaries so that there can be give & take on both sides, resulting in healthy compromises.  I've learned that even frien-emies have strong relationships, that - with  proper encouragement & reinforcement & what feels at times like endless patience - all creatures of all sorts can develop & grow in unimaginable ways IF there is an opportunity.

Yes, he's a wee small kitty, but Sky's helped me in more ways than I've helped him.  I am blessed & forever grateful.   (picture is of a gift tag John made - pure Sky)


  

Safe

Recently, I came across several letters that set my brain a~whirling. One was from someone dear to my heart, a single letter addressed & sent to each of her children. The other two were remarkable replies.

The original letter was short, to the point, sharing the letter writer's unexpected self-realization that she only felt safe with two out of six (including in laws) children. She confided that, as part of a larger effort to improve her overall attitude of mind, she was working on moving past that sense of unease, that she welcomed hearing from anyone who wanted to talk about what was happening in her life.

Of the four children receiving the letter by mail, two responded. One took her to task for not feeling safe with the other - berating her that there was no reason to not feel safe. That letter never asked for more specifics, for what was meant by the word "safe," or for an example of what she meant by not feeling safe.

The other also responded, or - to be more accurate - retaliated, calling out the letter writer for not feeling safe. Yes, the other noted, the other's blunt honesty often left people feeling sad, miserable, mad, angry, even hostile, but they always felt safe with the other.

What an excellent illustration of knowing HOW people define words. The other had no problem seeing that they often brought people to grief (i.e. sad, miserable, mad, angry, even hostile), but that didn't translate to them as unsafe. Perhaps, to them, being unsafe meant being physically unsafe; maybe the concept of emotional safety wasn't on the other's radar. There was no way to ask, as the letter was all emphatic statement, no open-ended asking.

Coming across those now "ancient" letters served as a good reminder to me that while I might THINK the words I'm using have clearly defined meaning, t'aint necessarily so. I could be totally misread - and could be, in turn, totally misread others. Step softly & carry a big curiosity to learn more.

It's safe to say that these letters frame a caveat we're each well served to heed - never assume that what you think you hear is what someone meant to convey, even if you can repeat back word for word what was said. When we think the sense is off whack, ask what the person meant by what was said. Imagine the difference if either the first OR the other had simple responded, "You say you only feel safe with this one & that one. Tell us more about how you feel with the others."

Timing is Everything

Lucky me, to have two books on launching a small business that were written for creatives.

The Right-Brain Business Plan was published just last year (!), while Birthing the Elephant has been around since 2008. Both arrived yesterday, along with a crib sheet for Windows 7.

I practically danced to the front door, throwing open the door with a swoosh of joy, whisking the package right out of the postman's hands!!

Discomfort as an Ally

It's still rough going, experiencing discomfort as a sign that work's being done, rather than simply considered. Avoiding discomfort was a key message I rec'd growing up & throughout my life. Yet, there was always something in me that knew discomfort was, in reality, an invaluable, irreplaceable ally, the soft whisper in my ear that I'd moved past up-in-the-clouds dreaming into down-into-the-nitty-gritty realizing.

I think it was Stephen Covey who wrote about the lure of promising ideas, the incredible psychic energy they provide, and how it is very different knuckling down to do the mundane tasks that transform fantasy into fantastic substance. We love to look to the idealized future, achievements we'll garner, accolades we'll receive, but balk at actually looking around us in THIS moment, given THESE circumstances.

Looking around at what can be done within the present can make me squirm - my longtime response has been to shut down, get tired, take a nap. Go numb. Better numb than discomfort.

BAH! What a lot of bosh!!!

Recognize the ancient triggers, stop dwelling in the past or looking toward tomorrow, look around, feel that icky sense of discomfort, of shying away from the mundane, knuckle down and LIVE. Take no thought for the morrow ~ take root in the NOW.