Category: Stream of Thought

Please tell me that it’s because of my brain’s exhaustion from having weathered the storm that made it go into total lockdown and my emotions into mortified vexation as I moved laundry 3x(!) in and out of different sized containers at the laundromat, trying to find the correct fit for my bundle.

OMG!

How can such a simple task have the hope and responsibility for the entire galaxy weighing on me?!

And once accomplished, I turned in brief-lived triumph to witness the folly of my confidence:

NOOOOOOOOOO! (Arm outstretched, reaching hand clenching mid-air)

The cannisters locked and cleaning, a lone black sock remained, fallen to its plight upon the floor.

I left Santa Barbara after my eldest was born, thinking we would find more inclusive community for my children to grow up with.

But once we returned to San Luis Obispo County, like-minded families began moving out of the region, leaving us with the dregs of conservatism.

Maybe I have taken it all too seriously.

But when you are launched into space by small life pod, away from a once magestic galaxy cruiser, perceptions blare to avoid imminent disaster.

I have not had a captain to guide me – other than my own cobbled together divinations as I have measured weft and weave of cosmic patternings.

Why do I long for such a thing – a captain to call my own?

It is this drive to find such a love that I can evolve myself within as I need and want to that has propelled me forward to overcome all.

It was one thing to try to ignore the cat’s yowling misbehaviors. Quite another when I turned and saw the small gecko staring quietly intent at me.

I get hangups and resentments – insecurities and internal entanglements – just like any other person.

However, I am finding that checking in with myself here helps me focus and keep track of squiggling thoughts that would undermine me.

Or at least, coming here keeps my intentions better focused on where I am going, and striving toward how I want to be

It would seem that once cast adrift survivors make it to shore that stress would relieve.

But in fact, it all comes up suddenly in a rush like choking out swallowed sea water because it is “safe now” to expunge.

I thought I knew – but as trials try to erase me, it’s hard to retain identity.

I had found my new King, but like every other gone before, he was distracted by other intrigues and interests.

I must rule my own kingdom – with or without consort’s crown.

The cost to taxed nervous system must be accounted for by time to rest and recover.

But to do so puts off even more the goals already denied another year.

Puppet strings yanked and pulled to altered dimensions makes it hard to trust again once encounter solid ground.

A sumptuously fluffy, soft and pristine-white throw blanket topped by a deep, blue-green velvet comforter snuggles around me while a copper-lined pillow lifts my head effortlessly as shadows from firelight ambitions dance-flicker upon the wall.

Spending money on holiday decorations for the house is both a daring expense and a rebirth of traditions buried when our family broke apart.

Perhaps our timing was daring, with the risk high and gambling. But it was worth our putting everything toward obtaining a good position in a receptive community.

I see a woman with a ten year old and two younger of his siblings, instructing him firmly while herd-corralling the younglings, and I shake my head slightly in acknowledgement of how heavy the burden she is managing.

To think, I raised two on my own trying to work with a husband with a disability. Hardships are not necessarily the issue – but whether or not you have a partnership of free-flowing collaborating.

The exhaustion now hitting me as if I have come out from a war zone leaves me reeling. Hypervigilance expended and edema resultant.

Was it the physical load or the psychological and emotional compression that was unrelenting?

I am thankful to the people, energetic nuances, and fine lines tweased that helped me slip between cracks to find our way home.

So why am I now having such a bad attitude? I think that I am angry that I had to go through this trial of faith by pressure and fire.

So what that I will now come out more honed as a diamond with more pure shine and less hiding my character!

I resent not having had a choice but to do what I had to in order to prove my grace.

Why? Why must I prove what I have always known, shown, and believed?

Why nail me to a wall so that I had to struggle more and show others by example how to endure to obtain reprieve?

Yes, things could have been worse – but for me, the trials were unnecessary!

I was already on my right path – although where we are now can give us better leverage.

My soul is starved – ravenous and outraged at having its own designs so heinously and intrusively thwarted!

Whether in the same home, from across the country, or on the other side of oceans, my partnerships with men have been long distance.

Rather than “Psychic,” at a glance I thought it said, “Psycho Tarot Readings.”

If you are told that you are beautiful, and given to tools and reinforcement to be beautiful, then even if it was not true before, you can become bold and beautiful. At what point does fantasy crossover into such reality?

The night before our new dawn.

A man can no longer mean to me as much as he has if he has not reciprocated my affections.

I am so paladin!

They do not seem to be enough.

But maybe, this time, they will be.

Figuring out a way to secure our new home, without relying on government assistance, is a challenge and proof that we intend to move beyond poverty.

We need each other.

There is just no way around it.

People who need government aid are no less worthy than business people who need client patronage.

None of us can exist in today’s societies without the help of our neighbor – whether near or far – except for a few hardcore isolationists.

And they need nature’s providence.

I dreamed that I was running effortlessly with no pain in my body, breathing deep and effectively, legs’ pace matching the ease in propulsion of motorcycles and cars streaming by, as I and my hound wove dirt pathways leading to and paralleling the rejuvenating river waters.

Today’s Definition: The right side muscles over lateral lower ribs creating a lean rippling effect when you contract them that lets you know your workout is at last turning a positive corner.

(Title references book by Madeleine L’Engle)

My life has been like a sampler plate of experiences.

I could dip my toe into the waters of situations – but jumping into them has rarely seemed right, and many did not seem to have sustainability built into them.

Therefore, I have often kept my commitments light and flexible – at first testing if opportunities are functional.

We will likely put the chain link portable fence panels around the deck, which is outside of the dining room, so that we can let the cats out to enjoy the air – but not let them get into trouble.

We will need to put a cover over the top of it.

The den is spacious with a fireplace, and is likely where we will place the couch and cat tree. I am thinking of having the upholsterer encase the couch in plastic sheeting so that we can see the pattern, yet keep it clean.

“Squeeky-squeeky,” says the couch upon sitting.

The den being attached to the dining area and wide-open kitchen will make a comfortable social activity area. And the garage is the perfect place to attempt to reseal the kitchen table’s surface for continued longevity.

We are getting a house!!!

Sharing thoughts and experiences.

Love is fragile and must be nourished for us to receive its blessings.

It is strange how holding onto a relationship can become a death sentence for love’s freedom of expression when only one partly is open and willing.

The title phrase can be negative or positive, depending upon its applications.

What???

That’s preposterous!!

I have always wanted friendship and community, but I had not often experienced it wanting me, in return.

The sensation is surprisingly unsettling.

While I have known and written about feeling isolated, I did not really know how chronically it had impacted.

I am shocked by how exposed I feel – as if someone has overturned a rock under which I was hiding.

Being invited to express myself imperfectly feels alarming as I risk and dare to care.

I lose sense of who I have been and currently think I am – as if I am suddenly spinning out of control, careening.

I am letting friendships begin in a time when I feel too vulnerable.

They are female friendships – which can be the best kind, in my opinion, because we get into the roots of living, flushing out suffering, and helping each other toward healing.

However, I am nonplussed, confused, and disoriented because I have not had these kinds of relationships for too long of a time.

My friends get to see sides of me that are not pretty.

I don’t want to be seen as “only human.”

It is not that I am radical. I just chafe at squeezing cuffs.

She was mad at him for conforming; he was mad at her for not.

Her young dog died and she was heartbroken. Cast adrift. Lost and lonely.

I looked into her eyes and told her that she needed to get another.

To my surprise, she did this very thing. She got herself a puppy.

Now when I see her, her heart is mending. It is on its way to recovery.

I see her proud to share with others the precious love that she is holding.

I find that the bathroom here has become a sort of meditation room for me where I take time to process what’s been happening.

Perhaps it is due to the fan always being on, where the white noise helps drown out the world’s impressions by overstimming my senses.

Also, it is an official “time out zone” where it is generally accepted that other people, animals, and life pressures must “for pure decency’s sake” reliquish you to your privacy.

I am also learning that I am currently not a morning person. I do best if around 11am is my get up call. Then, I take about an hour to wake up in this prep room by looking at my Instagram, planning the day’s schedule, etc.

Soon enough (and with much conscious effort), I must break out of the lull that having space for myself provides – and push out again into the demands of the day.

Perhaps giving so much conscious focus and energy in my healing therapy is more draining than I realize.

Perhaps, also, the need for my instincts to stay constantly poised and alert for any malarkey that must be avoided or smoothed uses endurance.

For when you do not have a home of your own, other people’s energetic influences can too easily overshadow and attempt to manipulate your own.

At least, this is what my hind brain tells me.

Once I was shipped down to care for my grandmother’s recovery from hip surgery after my grandfather died, she and I rattled about the place – lost in our displacement: she, from losing the love of her life, and I, from losing my family.

“Family” creates the patchwork that holds our lives together. It helps us to bridge gaps in inclement weather.

My mother, the rebel, and my uncle were adopted. My uncle broke away as became an entertainment management professional.

I was born into a family striving to become one where there once was none. Gender status ensured my grandfather’s legacy could not be carried on.

Consists of taking turns of walking with – and pulling against each other.

During our walk today, we came across some people opening a fresh bag of feed to scoop out for the wild mallards. It was quite a sight to see the large group of ducks all clustered around the vehicle: the males with their bright green heads reflecting sunlight, and the females chattering loud cacophany.

When you keep experiencing disruption, in order to overcome it, you must embrace it as the norm.

The fact that it should not have to be the norm must become irrelevant for successful survival.

She could have defined her own path.

He did not give her the chance.

(Situation multiple meanings)

A recent tea leaf advised me to not regret choices made when my own bravery assisted me to step into the unknown.

I feel chagrined in that for once I let down my diligence and instead invested in an experience that allowed me to viscerally feel again alive, hopeful, and in love.

I guess that I can just tally the money lost for not trying to recoup from the scammer’s ploy where I had thought my actions covered added to the money lost by the government agency’s “scamming.”

I paid premium dollars for two “virtual reality” experiences where I was led to believe that someone I highly valued valued me, and that government agencies have my best interests guaranteed.

My regrets are that I still feel any attachment while my sense of injustice tries to prod me to action.

When the scammer had arrived, she was ready for a holiday. In fact, she desperately needed it.

Being of a generous and ambitious nature, she bought into the fantasy and released raw creativity.

But, an important timeline passsd where she could have fought for what she was owed.

She was just so tired of having to beg for what was hers, while being denied at the government’s teat.

The process had been overly frustrating, time consuming, and deeply humiliating.

So she chose to invest in a representation of light to outshine desperation’s darkness.

She had become shy over the years when it came to revealing her heart’s intentions. She did not like the pain experienced once she had invested in partnership – and was then rejected.

However, just when she thought she had mastered the art of seclusion, extra bursts of confidence grown brave despite disillusion would push her into the sunlight to test and challenge paradigms.

But, this did not mean that those she reached out to would accept or reciprocate her regard for them. Each person is in their own growth cycle along their own timeline.

Perhaps she hoped for too much, expecting others would listen to and be ignited by her mission. The more she thought about this, the more she became embarrassed for asserting.

Gathering her dreams about her, she exited rooms where to her promise once glistened.