Before the accident in 1994, I had dyed my hair a certain shade of fiery red that had not been easily reproduced since then.
Somehow, I have managed to produce this today by accident.
I think of how heavy I feel inside in comparison to back then when the world was still opening up before me.
What really has changed but what I have been through?
I must find another way to begin again.
Perhaps it is a state of being very, very tired.
Galaxy Toes
As the hair dye sets and nail polish layers, I wonder about this transformation.
Establishing my own niche with specific parameters.
I will not flirt nor pandor
By donning artificialities.
I have been asking friends about dating apps and listening to their failure-but-then-success stories.
I play with the idea that I would post a profile and embark upon this exploration with courage.
But, in truth, I have absolutely no interest in doing so.
I do not want to be jostled about in the search for love’s return.
I do not want to experience further distorted projections onto me as I am rejected.
I do not have a negative complex about myself, just years and years of negative feedback experiences.
The pool of humanity I would he fishing from in such a venue is not up to my standards.
I am not sure how to obtain and receive what I am looking for.
It is not easy showing up some place unannounced, yet beckoned by visions.
Do I have restraint?
Strength’s endurance?
Clearly, I am to be one.
Maybe ever alone.
To what purpose?
I guess it is time to combine two colors and temporarily dye my hair again.
Disgruntled
Those dreams and clear-messaged meaning were supposed to represent my own and love’s redemption.
They were not supposed to lead me to a front row, open-hearted seat of “here’s another guy choosing another woman over me.”
Who needs that?
What the f***, destiny?!
My hands do not need words, nor do my senses in interpretation need to validate what I find and help in muscles to aid their healing.
However, being able to speak the terminology proficiently raises my status immensely in the eyes of other professionals’ acknowledging.
I can no longer pressure myself directly, but must expand into learning organically.
My youngest will be entering training which requires anatomy and physiology.
Now, there can be mutual reinforcement and play to lure me back into studying!
Of talents I would like to further develop, I am usually often singing.
I have found a teacher who would like my healing, so will set appts for us to begin exchanging.
I was sharing today with my youngest how I have been feeling too lonely lately.
They gave me a big, understanding hug and said, “It’s ok that you want to give and receive real connection with a partner, Mom. The people in our family’s lineage just love very deeply.”
Such thoughts are similar to soothings I used to give to my children, now gifted in their adulthood as advanced concepts for my own healing’s progressing.
I have eaten many fresh-baked this evening.
Sometimes, a person just needs to gorge.
Subscapularis, infra and supraspinatis – as well as teres – muscles join together to insert into the posterior shoulder.
When deactivated, the “cuff” union no longer helps stabilize the shoulder by counter-rotating the joint backward, and instead allows anterior attachments of other muscles to ratchet-up the forward torque.
This causes other muscles nearby to spasm, further exacerbating the problem – and even sometimes results in pinch-compressioning over nerve bundles, which causes nerve pain.
Hot flashes are the worst!
What is interesting is that they seem to be coming from my shoulder.
As nothing made sense around ne, I had to create my own paradigm where I became the spark which bridged – and thus linked – to better realities.
They told me that I was stupid and not worth their time.
What terrible things must have happened to them to require them to assert such claims at me?
For actually, I was quite the opposite.
I wonder when I will no longer feel so worn out and old.
I grew up being taken advantage of, misused, mistreated, oppressed, and beaten.
I was forced to suppress my emotions so that I would not be an easy target – although they somehow always found me.
It was because I was different. I refused to act ignorant and play the harmful games.
I did not want to jockey for position, stepping on my fellow human learners to obtain bloody gains.
I am not an animal. I am not a cannibal. I refused to propagate the inane.
I couldn’t stop those in power who crushed those under them because they, themselves, had also been hurt – but then rose to ascend to fame.
Everyone is injured here.
There is no quick-and-easy solution.
But, I could choose to give love and compassion.
I could choose to lend a helping hand.
Chomping,
Stewing on it
It is better to be alone –
So why don’t I like it?
Why not be narcistic and
Fall in love with myself?
Because I am not a clone
Or born a solitary isolate.
I’m a human with needs to
To be loved and cherished!
They are getting along – everything is easy:
She does not make waves nor express needs.
“Of course, I am upset and angry at you. I made an honest, worthwhile bid for your love – and you turned around and ran off with ‘some little girl!'”
I cannot care if you think you were not the one. I have no choice in the matter but to walk away.
This is the game that men play, calling out for love, then retracting. I am too strong for you.
My youthful charm lures you to find a woman’s truth. But, men these days don’t want this.
They want a girl who aspires to be a woman of the man’s own making. I could be this, too – in fact, tried to offer.
But, inevitably, time reveals a man’s inner weakness. Where there is growth to be won in the heart, he often turns away from it.
I thought you were different. And if you had been, then you would have been my only one.
As I moved into the checkout line at the grocery store, the young girl in front of me noticed my looking at the conveyor’s surface and began restacking her family’s food items to make room for my own.
I thanked her for her thoughtfulness with a warm, inclusive smile and then noted all their food was precooked and prepared, as one buys when they have no stove but maybe an ice chest or small refrigerator.
As her mother’s bill tallied up, there was a sudden glitch in their system. Confusion and pressured distress hid the inward panic as the young girl’s face blanched. They discussed and realized as they stood there frozen that there was no more cash or credit available on their card for foodstamps.
“We need to put it all back,” the mother fumbled, yet stood there unmoving. The two girls shuffled the food a bit, conflicted and dismayed, and on impulse I asked, “How much is the difference?” What was the bill remaining to be paid so they could leave with all of their considered efforts?
While I waited to hear a clear answer, worried if I was in a position to help without it hurting my own family, the older gent checker swiped his own credit card for them and sent them on their way. I could only feel deep compassion for this hardshipped family, having myself been in the same situation. I hoped that they would be ok.
Time is always on our side, for it is the basis upon which our material reality resides.
Perhaps the only way to avoid repeating them is to no longer have a stake in the game.
How can you refill a well if there are cracks in it?
Some things take me a while to configure – and then I leap exponentially.
Migraine locking down on neck with stomach swelling, she pushed against green haze to overcome her body’s rebellion.
“Why did you leave?” he asked her.
“I had nothing interesting left to contribute” she replied.
She had already made the decision to leave on her own, but glimpsed as she left how they jostled for his throne.
I did not like my inside attitude today. It was frustrated and angry.
The cottonwood trees have been dropping their fluff fronds full of seeds. Because my hound loves to crunch, she had been eating them, which is toxic to her tummy.
Which means I can no longer let her outside in the yard unsupervised. Which means I have to keep her on a leash during potty time.
We are both upset about this. She shows it to me by second-guessing my desires and cowering.
I hate that because it gives me a complex – as if I have been beating her. This arrangement also stirs up memories of when we were homeless.
And the bones I bought from the store to bake for the dogs for their chewing were rotten. It vexes me greatly when my efforts are “for nothing.”
I need supports that I can count on. It sometimes seems that they get blown away by the wind.
The distance between what I have had and what I would like to have in a relationship seems worlds apart.
The fact that it can become a state of being after a longterm series of stability disruptions is a bit disconcerting.
I would like to be in charge of my own neural programming.
Nourished, valued, wanted.
“They just don’t make them like me that often. I am not perfect by any means, but my soul’s will is stronger.”
My heart’s purpose was stronger than the hearts that I partnered with over time.
I thought that greatness resides within each of us.
I was proven wrong.
If I knew that a true partnership could be had, I would include such a one in my present and future.
By our own hands, we will create our fortune.
Mineral shopping, bakery visits, and gathering plant favorites.
I have a tendency to reject my own unique beauty automatically because I see what media caters to and think that you might not want me.
I am sorry that all of this brainwashing has propagated imbalanced preferences within the masses, and that I have not been strong enough to overcome it when thinking on my own about our prospective partnership.
Bu,t perhaps if I knew that you loved me as well, I would have the missing key to vanquish the messaging.
I am beginning to see my anterior rib muscular definition – Woot!
I had wanted to go to a movie last night, but instead returned home after a long, hot day of running errands.
The little jobs of straightening, ordering, and winding down the household from 8 to 10pm began a countdown necessary for unwinding the hindbrain.
It seems I chose the best option because I carry that experience of resettling with me today as this morning ramps up too quickly for the rest of the day’s activities.
It was with great relief yesterday that as I was paused at a stoplight, I looked down and noticed the tensile, healthy-plump tension has returned to my forearms.
I had a decade of my life’s youth taken from me in a day, and twenty that I did not get to live fully.
It is the least I can do for myself to reclaim how I feel I look and act as my true individual identity.
Watching the Destan series, it has finally jogged my memory that as a child I had to act ignorant to no longer be an obvious target to abuse’s hostilities.
As I grew, I kept my awareness hidden even from me so that I could not accidentally give myself away – yet, the growing healer in me would emerge suddenly and temporarily to help someone if I found them in need.
No wonder I shake and quiver at the primal, subconscious level as I continue to reveal me.
To do so was never safe on the paths I had to travel to flee captivity.
