Down

I should know by now not to talk to my Mom when I'm in a depressive slump - she always knows just how to remind me that every decision I have made, probably since I decided to draw my first breath, has been the wrong one.  It was bad enough before I talked to her; now I've completely lost faith in my ability to make a simple meal - the apartment reeks of onions and probably everything is going to taste foul and people are going to despise me for serving substandard food.  I hate my life.

Happy holiday, indeed.  

A Moment of Clarity

Today feels like a good day. I took a sleeping pill last night, so managed a full eight hours, and woke up without any significant anxiety. I have things to do today, and I feel as if I have the mental ability to get through them as long as I don't let myself get overwhelmed.

I don't have anything special scheduled for tonight, so I'm going to spend the free time watching movies, I think. Take it easy. The last few weeks have been rough.

I realize that I am in the process of becoming myself. For a brief moment (for I am sure I will forget this when the clouds cover my mind again) I can see clearly what I want to be when the drugs are gone and there is nothing left but what I carry in my soul. It's harder to explain than I thought it would be - I see it clearly in my mind's eye but words fail me.

I'm glad that I'm tapering during the winter; it feels fitting that I should be healing during the dark days and will be clean when spring returns and brings renewal. I hope that I will be renewed at the same time.

Deeper

It seems I am not destined to simply lay down and die; something keeps fighting to keep me alive, so I will follow it and see where it leads.  I must admit that I don't have much faith in these urges - every decision I make is pointed out to me as being the absolute worst one I could make, and it's true it seems every time I make a change I fall further into the abyss that is my life.  Maybe it's just depression from the withdrawal that is clouding me, but I just don't know what the right thing to do is anymore.

I can't really afford it, but I'm going to take in one of my cats sooner than expected.  Perhaps having something living here will inspire me to live as well.  Caring for it will take up what little money I had spare next month, but I think it will be worth it.

If I can pull myself together for a few hours, maybe I will go to the pool and get some sun.

Where Have You Gone, Joe DiMaggio?

I never thought I would see the day when I would find not one but two books that I could not get into enough to get past the first few pages. I think, in my whole life, this has only happened with one book ever (and it was a really bad, pretentious book - I brought it for light reading on a cruise and I deliberately left it in my stateroom because I didn't want to haul it back.)

Both books are new releases, and highly recommended, so I'm not sure why I can't read them. I'm only listing them here because I know that the books can't be bad and that I'm going to want to revisit them; "Buzz Aldrin, What Happened To You In All The Confusion" by Johan Harstad, and "Damascus" by Josha Mohr.

It simply can't be the books that are the problem; it has to be me. Benzo withdrawal must be affecting my mental state more than I thought it would, and if it is going to rob me of my love of books I'm simply not sure how I'm going to make it through the next year - for the most part my reading habit is all I have to keep me sane.

More Difficult Than Imagined

I need to pull together every bit of strength I have now, for I am doing something more difficult than I have ever attempted.

For most of my adult life, I have struggled with depression. Doctors have put their faith in chemicals, which had side effects, than gave me more chemicals to counteract those effects. In the end, nothing helped with the depression, and in addition I was left with a physical dependency on benzodiazepine type drugs. Benzodiazepines are ridiculously addictive, and very difficult to ween off of. Going off of them cold turkey can kill you.

At my insistence my doctor has put me on a tapering program to ween me off of the drug. I started just over a week ago, and cannot recall a time when I have felt so bad for so long in my life. Withdrawal pains started within two days, and will not end for at least six months after I take my final dose and possibly as long as twenty-four months after. There is no way to know.

I am tapering faster than I should; I should only be dropping 1mg a week, but because the pharmacy would not fill my new prescription yet I had to use the pills I had on hand, which meant a drop of 2.5mg in my first week. I don't know if that contributed to the pain of this week, but I had no seizures so that is a good thing. Next week I have to do another larger drop; 1.5mg, then after that I should be able to taper at 1mg a week as was planned.

I'm terribly afraid. I have signed up for an online support group, but do not have a strong support system in my real life. Overcoming a dependency, which really is just a prettier name for a drug addiction, is one of the hardest things a person can do, and I'm doing it alone. In times like this I can only turn to God for strength, and who can know if he will help me.

A bit from the master....

. . . Suffering is one very long moment. We cannot divide it by seasons. We can only record its moods, and chronicle their return. With us time itself does not progress. It revolves. It seems to circle round one centre of pain. The paralysing immobility of a life every circumstance of which is regulated after an unchangeable pattern, so that we eat and drink and lie down and pray, or kneel at least for prayer, according to the inflexible laws of an iron formula: this immobile quality, that makes each dreadful day in the very minutest detail like its brother, seems to communicate itself to those external forces the very essence of whose existence is ceaseless change. Of seed-time or harvest, of the reapers bending over the corn, or the grape gatherers threading through the vines, of the grass in the orchard made white with broken blossoms or strewn with fallen fruit: of these we know nothing and can know nothing.

For us there is only one season, the season of sorrow. The very sun and moon seem taken from us. Outside, the day may be blue and gold, but the light that creeps down through the thickly-muffled glass of the small iron-barred window beneath which one sits is grey and niggard. It is always twilight in one's cell, as it is always twilight in one's heart. And in the sphere of thought, no less than in the sphere of time, motion is no more. The thing that you personally have long ago forgotten, or can easily forget, is happening to me now, and will happen to me again to-morrow. Remember this, and you will be able to understand a little of why I am writing, and in this manner writing. . .

- an excerpt from Oscar Wilde's "De Profundis"

Upgrade

I have a bed!  Well, a sofa bed.  A futon if you want to be picky.  But still.  It's furniture.

Now I have to decide the fate of the beanbed.  It's awesome, I love it, but I don't have anywhere to put it.  Right now it's sitting in the middle of the living room.  Wait, let me correct that statement.  It is sitting in the entirety of the living room.  I have to climb over it to get anywhere.  It's simply too massive to shove against a wall, and I don't have a wall to put it against anyway.  It stores in the closet rather neatly, provided that I never need to get anything out of the closet ever again.

Ah, what to do....

Japanese Romans

I'm having a really hard time wrapping my mind around this for some reason.

To Nano, or not to Nano....

Nanowrimo is almost upon us again, and to be honest I have not done any serious writing in over two years.  I wonder if I should even make an attempt this year?  I have so much on my plate right now, but then again I have tons of time.  Maybe I'll know in a week or so if it's something I want to do.

Words hurt.

Aaron Beck, MD, a psychiatrist and the author of Prisoners of Hate: The Cognitive Basis of Anger, Hostility and Violence, believes that people who are prone to attacking others—whether verbally or physically—regard life as a battle, often as a result of overcontrolling parents or other authority figures. They're continually mobilized to fight because of a pattern of perceiving belligerence in other's behavior, Beck writes. In essence, the antagonist concludes that everyone is seeking to oust or joust her—which is why she jumps for another's jugular before this "enemy" can take her down. 
(taken from Attack-of-the-Killer-Comment)



My life is plagued by such a person.  I won't name names or point fingers, but for months I've been on defense against a person who seems to think that every person is against her, that everything is a battle, that every differing opinion is a reason to attack.  I've watched her do it to others I care about, and I've experienced her caustic words myself more times than I care to remember.  


I don't have any ill feelings against her, but every time she hurts someone I care about I lose more respect for her.  I cannot understand what drives her anger: is it caused by fear, or by harm done to her at some point?  In my darker moments I contemplate that she is simply a sociopath, but I'm pretty sure that isn't the case.  My instincts direct me to avoid her, and I tell myself every time I respond that it is the last time - that I'm not going to waste any more energy on her negativity.  Then she attacks again, and I find myself jumping to defend myself or someone else before I know it.  


I've tried meditation, I've tried prayer.  I've tried to understand her, but I'm not good enough yet - I need more practice, I guess.  I feel like, every time I react to her, I have strayed from my quest to think and act mindfully and with compassion - I simply react without hesitation, then feel ill and stressed after.  It makes me feel like something of a failure.  I want to understand what makes her do this, even if there is nothing I can do to help her.  

Needs Versus Wants

The list of things I need is getting shorter.  I'm learning what I can do without, and what I need, and the list is rather surprising.

A futon (already known; I love my beanbed but it's not very practical.)
A bookshelf (to store my DVDs)
A TV Stand (I've checked goodwill and Salvation Army, but in the end I'm going to have to go to IKEA.)
Loaf pans (not at all known, but I don't know how else to make quick bread or fried polenta)
Covered casserole dishes (1 medium 1 large)
A knife set
Spices (I only have a few at the moment, salt, a seasoning salt, garlic...that's about it.  Not even pepper)
folding chairs (Maybe 2 or so)
PVC pipe (to make an additional pole in the closet)
Sheets (I'm still borrowing the ones from John.)

As far as groceries, I really want to get some buttermilk and sour cream, and some hard grated cheese.  But they are going to have to wait a bit.

Co-op Love

Today was my first pickup from my local food Co-Op.  It is amazing what $28 dollars can get you.

I didn't really know what to expect, so I ordered the basic produce basket plus the extra veggie option.  The regular option contained apples, pears, plums, bananas, pineapple, pomegranates, broccoli, lettuce, and several types of squash, among other things.  The extra option included a selection of peppers, garlic, onions, cilantro, and some tomatillos (which I have no idea how to prepare but I'm looking forward to finding out.)  I'm so overwhelmed - I had not expected nearly this much food.  ^_^

This morning I headed out to the meeting spot at 7:30am, and was welcomed and put right to work.  Checking and sorting produce into baskets, I was amazed at the variety available to us, and it is incredibly satisfying to work and have something to show for it at the end.  Volunteers got to choose from the case ends, so I got extra apples and am looking forward to making a tart in the next day or so (though I don't have cinnamon or allspice, but I'm sure I'll figure something out.)

I'm sure the selection changes every week, and of course you can't rely on getting any one thing, but it is hard to find anything to complain about.  I shared some of my haul with my friends, and I'm looking forward to eating well for the next week.

And so the moving process begins

Now that I have keys in hand and can actually look at my new living space for the next year or more, I'm feeling somewhat nervous.  I haven't lived alone in five years, though I did for the five years before those.

I'm taking pictures as I go; hopefully when I'm less nervous I'll post the before, during, and after pictures of the move.  It really is a small place - 450s.f. is really not a lot, and with my fear of crowding it is going to be a real challenge to keep the space open and airy.  Fortunately it's a totally open floorplan, so I can do whatever I want with it.

Today I went to IKEA and picked up a few items that I didn't already have.  I got two small area rugs (because the apartment is all tile floor and I like to have something soft to walk on,) a gateleg table (it seats 4-6, depending on how cozy you want to get, but folds down to take up only 10" of space when not in use,) and a kitchen cart (because I have almost no counter space at all and really need someplace to work.)  Also a couple of short stools for people who like to sit (I live something of a floor lifestyle, so chairs are really optional for me.)

I haven't finished packing.  I need to run a load of laundry, and get all of my personal items gathered up and packed away.  Also my altar is still out - I don't know how I'm going to pack that.  I'm freaking out a bit, I think, and really there isn't anyone that I want to bother with this stuff.  I really need to find a support group somewhere.

I'm also officially broke for the month, which sucks since I still need to buy groceries and stuff and pay for doctor's visits.  *le sigh*  I don't feel like I can ask my parents - they haven't been very happy about the whole divorce/moving out thing, and my brother has already helped out above and beyond so I can't ask him for more money.  It's weird not having anywhere to turn.  But...I'm sure I will figure something out.  There are food banks, and I can live on rice and beans and canned veggies for a month - it would probably be good for me. ^_^

Less than a Week

It's hard to believe that this time next week I will (or rather should be) moved into my new digs.

I'm more frightened than I thought I would be.

Packing is getting harder and harder.  There is only so much left I can do.  Pretty much...the contents of my desk, my closet, a handful of books, and my toiletries are what remain.  Most of that will end up in suitcases later today, I think, or tomorrow morning.  My room is a mess because I can't do anything else until what has been packed gets moved, and I can't lift anything so it has to wait.

Pretty much as soon as I move I'm going to have to find a supplemental source of income - with so many medical things going on I'm going to need much more than I anticipated.  My head hurts from the anxiety.  I wish I had someone to lean on right now, but there isn't anyone.

Half a Loaf

Moving continues, though at a slower pace than I would like.  John is doing the heavy lifting, moving his books from my shelves to his, then if he's up to it moving my bookshelves to the staging area.  I'm pretty much useless; I loaded four boxes of DVDs and one box of clothing, but now my head is aching from bending over.  It's terribly frustrating for someone as mentally independent as I to not be able to do the simplest of physical tasks without becoming ill.

I still have accessories to pack, and laundry to sort between what I need over the next week and what can be packed away, and I need to do that today.  Tomorrow I need to start separating out the common property - mostly kitchen stuff, but we need to talk about who keeps what storage containers and stuff.

Depression is pulling me down, and I know I have to stop it because I simply don't have the time to indulge in it - my move day is nine days away.

Starting from Scratch

Martha Stewart and I don't see eye to eye sometimes.

I'm looking ahead to what I need to stock my pantry in my apartment.  So, off to the internet I go!  Martha Stewart's page on pantry essentials is in the top three, and I figured that her list would be a good place to start.

Until I looked at it.

I'm not going to knock the list, I'm sure it's wonderful if you're...actually, I'm not sure who that list would be a pantry primer for.  Anchovies?  Capers?  Really?

Usually I love Martha Stewart's checklists, especially ones like her cleaning checklist.  Very sensible list, and easy to follow.

But, back to the pantry.  I found a very useful list at The Stone Soup, it's a little bit more than I would consider minimalist but it seems to go in order of priority.  A more minimalist list from the same author is both more and less helpful somehow - but I love it.

Tomorrow is more packing, and packing, and packing.  I'm also haunting the local Goodwill stores for rose-patterned tea sets and other things that I really will need.  Like knives.  That's probably going to be a trip to Marshall's or something.

Got to rush out to a discussion in Tempe, so hopefully I'll be able to get back to this soon.  Ja ne!

Little by Little

I'm feeling a bit frustrated because my packing has stalled, so I cleaned and packed away all the non-essentials on my desk.  It's not much, but at least I can feel good about accomplished something today.

Mentally I'm a bit on the fritz.  I have referrals to see a therapist, but really don't know how I'm going to afford it.   Plus I have a meds appointment on Tuesday and two prescriptions to fill tomorrow. Lots of medical stuff going on right now.

There are so many social issues that I need to come to terms with, but I'm not sure how.  Things I just can't seem to let go of no matter how much I try - it's just too painful.  I guess I'll just have to hope for the "time heals all wounds" sort of thing and put it behind me as best I can.

So much left to do.....

Twist My Arm, Why Don't You?

Ok, L’Arc~en~Ciel, now that you have my complete attention....  

 How is it that you can get me to buy a CD without even hearing a single?  How do y'all become hotter with every passing year?  *melts*  


In other news, Yellow Fried Chickenz's single The End Of The Day drops in... three days technically, since it is tomorrow in Japan now.  I keep scanning iTunes to see if it comes up here in America - I miss being able to buy the CD singles so much but finances and the exchange rate are killing me.  The video for it is totally droolworthy... plenty of Gackt-y goodness, and the other singer is hot too.  ^_^ 

The Living Speed Bump

Sometimes cats, very much like people, seem to have their own personal agendas.  Some want to be petted, some want to be part of every conversation, some wish to be left alone to meditate upon how very fine it is to be feline.

Aiden, the gray cat in our household, has made it his life's goal, and indeed his personal mission to be a speed bump.

Never try to run anywhere in the house.  It doesn't matter if you are rushing to stir a bubbling pot or dashing in to get out of the rain, you will never go more than five steps before your foot collides with something soft, furry, and surprisingly immobile.  What momentum you built will be completely lost as you windmill to regain your balance.

On the rare occasions when he is not in place to slow your progress, he will appear from nowhere and race to get ahead of you, then stop.  He takes his work as traffic control very seriously.

At all other times Aiden is a laid back, zen-like cat.  He likes everyone, will tolerate just about anything, and is generally just a happy, if slightly stoned looking cat.  Unless you speed in his precinct.   

Pulling it together

Book packing - completed!

I've finally finished cataloging and packing all of the books I am keeping (there are a couple of shelves worth that are going to the used book store, but I'm giving friends first crack at them.)

I now know exactly how many books I have.  That is absolutely incredible to me.  Now...I need to finish tagging them for easy reference.  I did end up using LibraryThing.com to catalog them, but it was worth the money.

Now I can see the gaping holes in my collection and actually fix them.  ^_^

Now...on to my next two major projects:  the DVDs and making decisions on the magazines I've been carting around forever.  I have a bunch of Japanese magazines and photo-books, out of print/rare niche magazines, and things I just wanted to hold on to because there was a recipe or article that I was meaning to scan.  Well, now is the time to make those decisions.  Probably...I will keep most of the Japanese stuff regarding Gackt, and my print copies of The Green Egg from the early 1990s.  Possibly my old copies of Run and Compute Magazines.  Everything else will probably have to go away.  *sobs*   

So much work left to be done, but I'm confident that I will be able to finish it before the end of the month.  Wish me luck!

Taking a Day Off

I'm kind of disappointed in myself for not packing any books today, but I woke up late and ended up spending the day just enjoying the freedom of being alone.  Plus, the next decision I need to make is about my sci-fi/fantasy paperbacks, and I really don't want to make those choices right now.  I have several shelves worth of books by Piers Anthony, David Eddings, and Anne McCaffrey,  and I really just don't know if I want to keep them.  The problem is, if I get rid of them, then I'm going to want to read them.  If I keep them, then I'll never think to read them.  It's a reoccurring problem for me with this genre.  Plus, paperbacks take up a lot more shelf space than I am really comfortable with.

Yesterday I managed to pack all of the manga that I am keeping, a good chunk of my 20th century literature, and my Hunter S. Thompson collection.  235 items so far, or maybe 5 1/2 shelves of books.  Which leaves...maybe 14 shelves to catalog and pack, if I choose to keep them.   Maybe tomorrow I'll be in a frame of mind to get back to work.

Getting in the Groove

Today, I make a start to my moving adventure!  It's a bit later in the day that I wanted to start, but it's been so hot outside....

With any luck I will scan and pack my manga at least - I always feel better when I have a defined goal in mind.

An Inherently Harmonious Relationship

Prince of Tennis has been one of my favorite anime series for some time now, and I am re-watching it while introducing it to a friend.  Because I am watching anime in Japanese with subtitles (I rarely listen to dubs) I often miss little cultural things that aren't explained because they would not need to be for the target audience.

Today I stumbled across one in Prince of Tennis that had baffled me for the longest time, and that makes me happy.  I now understand what the whole "AH! UN!" thing that was in the Momo/Ryo doubles match, and the underlying subtext that makes it particularly funny.

Accomplishments this early in the morning make me happy.

Shades of Grey

(I'm not sure where this post is going, I'm mostly trying to figure something out in my head.)

In my view, the world is mostly not binary.  There are facts, but there is no absolute truth.  My interpretation of a set of facts will never be the same as another person's interpretation.

Being aware of that, and because of my strong belief that I do not have the right to interfere with someone else's life journey, I tend to be very tolerant of other people's behavior provided it does me no harm.  I'm not sure if that is the best way to explain it, but it is what comes to mind right at this moment.  As an individual I may choose to not associate with someone because they say or do things that cause me hurt or discomfort, but I feel it would be a great wrongness for me to try to enforce my code of ethics on them, because my view may not be the best view for them.

The times when this is hardest, the times when I don't know what to do and when I become anxious and disturbed, are when I am dealing with someone who has a very narrow interpretation of what is right and wrong and is very passionate about enforcing their view of how things should be.  On the one hand, I accept their view as valid for them, but when those views impact other people's lives I find myself stepping in to try to hold them back, because I think that they do not know what damage they can cause by forcing someone else to conform to their limited worldview.  But then, I have to think that I am attempting to force that person, who feels very passionately about their view, to conform to my view.

It's all very confusing.

At times like these, I'm not sure what is the right thing to do.  Do I step up to try to protect others, or do I stand back and let each person deal with the situation as they see fit?  It's easier when I am dealing with the situation as an individual, but what if I am in a position of responsibility?  Is it OK for me to stand back and let those who I have made a commitment to serve sink or swim according to their own abilities, or do I have a duty to step in and protect them?

This is, I think, the main reason why I should not be a leader.

That Which Must Be Shed

So, in about six weeks I get to experience moving again.  I'm relocating to a small studio apartment in the heart of the city.  I have so many conflicting feelings about this move and the circumstances around it, but I have to trust my instinct that it is the right thing for me to do.

I've never lived in a studio apartment, but I've imagined it many times, and planned it out in my head over and over.  Now that it is going to be a reality, I find that I have to rethink my ideas and work them into something practical.  I have to think, "what things do I need to do in my space?"  My visions of over-sized chaise lounges and Victorian style decorations are going out the window.  I'm going to have to minimize more than I've ever done in my life.  It's a frightening prospect, and one I cannot delay - I need to start making choices and getting rid of things now.

While looking for ideas on minimalizing, I stumbled across Zen Habits.  The site looks interesting; the information is not anything I haven't heard before, but having it all in one place is rather helpful.  While reading some of the older posts, I started making changes in my plans for what I will need in the new apartment.  If I can keep things simple, I should be able to make my life a lot easier.

That said, no matter how much I want to keep things simple and clean and stuff, I'm not willing to let go of any of my books.  Yes, I have a ton of them, but there is not a single book that is excess.  Every book is loved and cherished, and if I get rid of anything I'm just going to purchase it again somewhere down the line (yes, this have happened before.  Multiple times, even.)  I'm terribly afraid my apartment is going to end up looking like a library with a bed stuck in the middle.  ^_^

Today, A Bit Lazy

Lazy may not be the best word, but today I'm really not up for much.  I slept well into the afternoon, my back is giving me problems again, I can't attend the event I wanted to tonight, and I really don't have much to say.  I'm meditating over a cup of black tea and wishing I had someone here to share it with.

I haven't really been in a social mood.  Rather, it would be more accurate to say that I am demoralized by the directions of the groups in which I participate and really am not inclined to immerse myself in them right now.  Maybe it's just a phase, maybe it's just my mental state, maybe it's that they are changing in ways that no longer appeal to me.  Time will tell, I suppose.

My desire right now is peace, quiet, and stability in my life.  I need a sturdy support if I am to climb higher and accomplish the things I want to do, but right now it feels like I'm standing in quicksand, so my first priority is to stabilize myself physically and mentally. I have plans, I don't know how feasible they are.  

I don't have much to say today, but I do have one link to share today, from one of my favorite websites: McSweeny's Internet Tendency.
Unit Test:  A Train Leaves the Station at 2:00 PM

Enjoy, and hopefully things will improve as the week progresses.

Water, Water Everywhere.

I've been writing a bit recently about tea, and probably will do so in the future.  Why?  Because I have a new shiny toy that lets me have water ready for tea whenever I want it.  And, being me, if I can have it, I'll drink it.

I'm a big fan of Zojirushi products anyway (I have the fuzzy logic rice cooker, and it's the best one I've ever owned, and the hot pot is on my want list.)

I'm learning a lot about tea from The Duchess, and am slowly developing a palate for things other than southern style sweet tea and Japanese usucha (thin tea made from matcha.)

My only problem is...well, I like to drink tea.  Having heated water on tap pretty much ensures that I will think about having a cup any time I walk past the warmer.  I think on one day I had over three full liters of black tea over the course of six hours or so!

My only problem with the warmer is the time it takes to change temperature - it holds wonderfully at a single temp, but if you want to switch from black tea to green, it's going to take about four hours for the water to drop to an acceptable level.  Also, if you top up the water it has to reboil and cool again, which takes a while.  I've gotten around this by deciding a day before what kind of tea I will be drinking - so far that had worked out pretty well.  Today was a green tea day, tomorrow it's back to the black.

Having tea available anytime I want makes life just a little bit more pleasant.  I wish I could have some now....

Tea with the Duchess on Vacation

Another day of tea with the Duchess, and this time we are on vacation, hidden away in the mountains, far from the hectic world that is my home. I cherish these moments, because they are so very rare, and because tea with her is always an adventure.

The tea today is a green, though it is so dark that she sees the dry leaves almost as a dark gray. When I turn the cup to look I see the darkness, but it throws off a reflection of deep olive green, like fir needles under snow.

Wet the leaves are lighter, but still very intense in color. I smell in them seaweed and sweetness and rainforest rolled together in confusion, not a one overpowering the others. I am intreagued by the combination; green teas are ofted very vegetal or grassy to me, or very floral. I find myself wondering if the sweetness will blossom into flowers.

I bury myself in the aroma of the brewed tea, and find myself in a world of morning dew and springtime clover laid over purple and velvet and opium dreams. A green for sure, but a green as deep and dark as the leaves promised; a green carrying secrets and sensuality and the soft slow movement of a primordial river. A hint of something astringent behind, catching at the very back of the throat, just enough to snap you into awareness before heavy night flowers drag you back into it's grasp.

The first sip - surprisingly astringent, almost salty, but sweet like violet petals. I don't know what this tea is, she didn't tell me and I didn't ask, but to me is soft and dark and decending into stillness. A longer taste and the bitterness is more appearant, but so is the depth. I want to drown in this tea. A slight smokiness lingers like gunpowder in the air.

I close my eyes and I find myself in a dark back room in some squalid city south of the equator, a sense of danger and intrigue and paramilitary troops in the streets in green fatigues and berets. No tribal drums here, just heat and danger and that sweet current of adreneline that comes with the territory if you are the type that dances on that particular knife's edge.

I come to the end of the cup unexpectedly, lost in the vision and wanting to return.

Comfort Level

I don't expect this world to make me comfortable.


The world is full of things that make me uncomfortable. Icy cold rooms, noisy crowds, and flashing lights put me on edge. People who swear like sailors in public or indulge in excessive public displays of affection seriously offend me (I'm not talking about holding hands or hugs and kisses, I'm talking about extended tonsil hockey sessions and under-clothing groping at the mall.) Watching someone chew with their mouth open makes me retch.


These things make me uncomfortable, but I have to bear them. Why? Because regardless of how much discomfort it causes me, it is their right to do these things. My desire to feel comfortable anyplace outside of my own house, or even my own room is, in my opinion, trumped by their right to do anything in public that is not unlawful. If I don't like it, then it it my responsibility to move away.


It is not my place to tell anyone else how to live their lives, or what decisions to make, or how to act.  it's not my place to tell you that you are a bad person, or a bad parent, or a bad influence.
  
My strong belief in personal liberty is such that I will defend someone else's rights even if they make me uncomfortable. I don't consider myself a political person - I'm registered, I vote, and I follow politics at both the local and federal level, but I generally don't get involved anymore. My protest days are well behind me, a part of my high school and college memories - I am far too old and tired to raise hell over the little things. I only become inflamed and speak out when restrictions are placed on what I feel are my (or someone else's) rights as a citizen of the United States and as an intelligent sentient being.


This world does not exist to make me feel safe. It is because this world does not keep me safe that I am truly able to experience life. 

Change! Yes we can!

There are so many interesting changes in the world around me, and part of me wants so much to be a part of those changes.  I want to, and yet I fear that i will overextend myself again.  I hope that a few days of reflection will help me sort out what I want to do.

Tea with the Duchess

One of dearest friends is a tea reviewer.  Today is our weekly get-together, and I have the privilege of tasting new teas with her! ^_^ I must admit that my palate is not nearly as refined as hers (at least not on teas - scotches maybe more so. I learn a lot when I drink with her, but mostly I'm enjoy the mental and physical ritual of enjoying tea with her. 

Our first tea of the afternoon was a black tea.  I have not been drinking a lot of black teas recently, so it is a pleasant change.  This one tastes like a sunny late October afternoon in the Shenandoah mountains, sitting on the back porch - a day where he grass is still green, but only a last few russet colored leaves rustle in the wind, a day when you can still feel summer's kiss, but have a fire laid awaiting against the evening's chill.  I feel like I want to curl up under a quilt while sipping this.  A very enjoyable tea, not too heavy on the tannins, but still a roasted flavor.  I smell honey mead and she smells pine nuts, but in the end each person's interpretation of a team or of any experience, belongs to that individual alone.  

At this moment I am filled with contentment and joy.  It sometimes feel strange that, in this technically-oriented world that pushes us to rush forward and constantly "do", that I can sit for hours over a cup of tea with a friend, but times like this truly are the happiest in my life. 

And she will lead us out of the wilderness

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens."


Sometimes it's like a lightbulb, things seem like they might actually make sense for once. There is a reason I am here right now, and why I must search.  I know this doesn't make sense to anyone but myself, but I've never felt destiny like this before.  Maybe it's not, but I think it may be.  My purpose is to serve, and the Dear One is called to lead.  I can almost see where - the fog still covers the path between, but I can see through it just a bit.  


I think...it is something I can have faith in. 

Creating income

"I just can't find a job!" 

Last night we had a casual tea gathering, and I was talking to a few people who had the same complaint:  they are intelligent, educated, experienced in their fields, but because of the current economy simply cannot find work at all.  I can understand this - too many people are competing for too few existing jobs.  It's simple when you write it down, but less so when it's personal.  

I look at all these talented people, and then I start to wonder; what could we do as a group that would provide services to others and employment for ourselves?  The idea is peculating in my head right now, but I'm kind of feeling around the edges of an idea.  Possibly...I need to talk to some other people and get feedback before I can put into words better.  

Nosalgia

Everyone remembers Schoolhouse rock, but does anyone remember Time for Timer?



I don't know why this just popped in my head.

Lucid

It is a somewhat novel experience to have a non-forced schedule.  I wake up around 8, have breakfast before 9,  reading in the morning, lunch around 2, unstructured work in the afternoon, dinner before 8, and nothing to eat after that time.  It sound like I'm structuring my day around my meals, but actually I'm structuring my meals around my meds.

I think I'm done with withdrawal symptoms from the trazadone and the adderal.  I've been sleeping well and am alert after I wake.  This is a massive improvement.  I want to keep getting better, so I'm trying to not push myself too much.  The life changes I'm making, they are big ones, but I think as long as I don't try to do too many at one time I shouldn't have too many problems.

I'll be honest, I really don't know where my life is going right now.  Maybe it's midlife crisis or something, although I'm a little young for that, I think.  I've reached a point where I understand that I've done a lot of things for the wrong reasons.  Some of them are changeable, but the consequences are difficult to deal with.

I'm rambling.  I'm not sure what it is I want to say right now, just that there are things I need to deal with in my head and in my life, and I'm not sure where to start.

My own personal suit of armor

Last night someone stood on my back to help relieve some of the tension.  According to them (and the person who tried to work on it afterwards) I do not have knots, I have plates of tension in my back.  It seems that, with what they were putting on my pressure points I should have been screaming, but really I felt no discomfort at all.  My back felt a little better after they finished working on it, but I think I need to have a lot of work done before it feels really good.  

I am never fully relaxed.  From my shoulders to my ankles my muscles are constantly in a state of at least partial contraction.  My jaw is always clenched.  Even the bottoms of my feet are tight.  My body reflects the physical and emotional injuries of over three decades, and I think maybe it's time for me to see some relief.  I wonder what I can do to help relieve all this tension?

Unraveling

Is it that books simply are not made as well as they once were?  My copy of Last Nights of Paris, already pages are starting to come loose.

I am not, as a rule, hard on my books.  I've read books to pieces before, but this book I have only read once before and the spine is not damaged at all.  Yet, there they are, pages six through nine detached and sitting every so slightly out of place.  Was it a bad copy run?  Was the glue not quite right?  I check the binding - a sloppy job; the glue is uneven and some pages are barely secured.  Is this the new norm, or just my bad luck?

A paperback book is never forever, but I want them to survive beyond a few turns of the pages.

The Color of June is Blue

It's a beautiful day in The Valley (get used to hearing that - most days are beautiful here.)

The white noise generator seems to be working.  After one false start I was able to fall asleep and slept through most of the night.  I am also starting to use it during the day while typing or reading on the computer; I think it is helping with my concentration.

This morning I read the first chapter of Last Nights of Paris out loud on the back patio.  I wonder, do I have an attractive voice?  I need to make a list of words that I know, but do not know know to pronounce. It is a strange thing for an adult to need, I suppose, but I never learned phonetics.   I also need help pronouncing the French words in the book.

Today I hope to accomplish many things, most of them cleaning related.  I have fallen off my cleaning schedule, but today I can start it anew.  Wish me luck!

June Reading List

The sun will rise, and the moon will set....

It's been a long dragged out time for me.  So many things going on, and I don't seem to be up for them, physically or mentally.  I'm feeling better today, after a week of not quite being able to get myself together.  I'm still nowhere near 100%, but I'm regaining my health, I hope,  I'm here, but more in the way of a butterfly still in it's cocoon.  With luck and determination I will break free of this shell when the time is right.

While I'm waiting, I'm also attempting to reorganize my reading.  If you know me, I'm generally not a messy person, but my books end up everywhere.  I start a book, put it down, start another one, put it down, and before you know it there are a dozen books scattered from the bedroom to the dining room to the bathroom, all in various states of completion.  I'd really like to change that.  I don't think I could read only one book at a time, but I should limit how many I am reading at once and make a point of finishing them.

So, my list for June is:

Christopher Hibbert - The House of Medici - Its Rise and Fall
Allen Ginsberg -  Journals: Early Fifties Early Sixties
Anais Nin - In Favor of the Sensitive Man
Oscar Acosta - Autobiography of a Brown Buffalo
Philippe Soupault - Last Nights of Paris

Perhaps a bit ambitious for one who has not maintained a reading list in ages, but I want to try for this summer at least.  If I'm not able to write, I should be able to at least read.  I'm also going to start marking up my books, something I've never done before.  Underline passages that speak to me.  Write in the margins.  Learn to live with my books as living beings rather that something that should be preserved unmolested.  Books want to be lived with, I think.   I've always enjoyed reading a dog eared book that someone else has lived with, because it gives me insight into their minds as well.  A stash of #2 pencils and a sharpener are on my list for today.

I wonder, what are your plans?  What are you reading this month, or this year, or however you read?

Still Standing

I'm writing, but I'm not writing fiction.  I'm writing to help me understand who I am and where I came from, to better help me understand where I am going.  So it kind of looks like I've dropped off the planet.  I assure you I haven't.  I'm preparing for the new incarnation of me.  Change, pain, pleasure, direction, desires...everything is being dumped on the floor and evaluated.

So many changes in my life is such a little amount of time, or is it just my imagination?  Does time really move faster as you get closer to the end of the line?

It's a start?

I'm awake before noon!  Actually, I've been awake for several hours now, but it was nearly 11am before I felt well enough to try to walk (I woke around 9, laid in bed and read for an hour, then tried to get up and instead spent 40 minutes or so curled up in a ball on the floor whimpering as my body protested my decision.)

Today...I don't have anything on my schedule for today, thank goodness.  Probably...I will do some cleaning.  Run to the discount store and see if I can buy that floppy hat, then weed the backyard if I can find gloves.

J graciously ran to pick up our food box (don't judge - in times like these it helps a lot) so I'm a bit overwhelmed by the fresh food we have right now, and I want to do some real cooking.

While laying on the floor, I felt that aching hole that comes when I'm not creating something.  Looking for something to plug that hole....

Yes, an emo post. It had to happen eventually.

If I am to live life fully, then I need to do something about my self esteem.

I'm sure that's not the first time I've said that here, and probably won't be the last.

Because I am not the "American Ideal" of a woman in any way, I find it difficult to consider that I could ever be attractive in any way to someone else.  Because of my twisted thinking, I carry so much emotional baggage into relationships that it is almost impossible for them to survive.  I don't want that to happen this time.

I'm not being self pitying, though I've been accused of that sometimes.  I really want to get better.  I want to feel good about myself.  I want to do things that make me happy.  I want to do things to make those I love happy.  But...

I really don't think I can do it on my own.  At least, not at first.  All good intentions go out the window when you don't wake until after noon and surf the web until dark.

I need to get up.  I need to shower, and eat breakfast, take my meds, see the morning sun, but before that I need to get up and that is where I am failing.  I need ritual.  I need structure.  I need for there to be consequence when I don't do what I know I should be doing.

How do I get these things?  Seriously.  I need a drill sargent  or something, at least in the mornings.  Any takers? ^_^

Reading Backlog

This morning I finally finished reading Laurence Durrell's "Justine".  I think it's something of a record - it's taken me months to finish a book barely over 200 pages.  And now that I've finished it, I want to re-read it in a single session, to wring every bit of it's essence from it before moving to the other books in the Alexandria Quartet.

Even more than how much I miss writing, I miss reading.  I have been an avid reader since I was a child, and until recently spent several hours a day reading.  However, life has intruded, and I have taken on more outside projects than I can handle, so both reading and writing have taken a back seat to other activities.  However, the one major project that I worked on is now finished, so I will once again have the time to devote to the things I love doing most.

This evening, I hope, I will curl up somewhere comfortable, brew a cup of tea, and start Justine again.  The book deserves better from me.

Let me off this crazy thing!!!!!

What is sucking the most is that, despite the fact that I'm stressed to the point of tears, I can't let anyone see because I have to be all happy and perky and pretending things are ok when OMG they most certainly aren't.

I have to maintain happy and perky and enthusiastic for two more days, then I can break down.  And I have learned several valuable lessons, most of which are unprintable.

The Lost Art

Somehow today I am feeling sad.  I am currently watching several conversations on forums, conversations by people I know and a few that I don't.  The topic is one that is important to each of us on the forum, and one that needs to be discussed.  There is a lot of useful information being introduced, but it somehow becomes lost in emotional verbiage.  Unfiltered emotion creeps in and is misinterpreted.  Supporting information is omitted. The tone becomes ambiguous and is interpreted differently by each reader.  People get hurt and strike back against what they felt were attacks.

Have we, in our transition to instant electronic transfers of information, lost the art of communication?  I fear we may have.  We often type on forums using the patterns that we use to speak, and that is something that generally did not happen in a time when we put pen to paper to communicate with others.  Because it is so easy to pour one's thoughts and feelings out on a screen and press a button, there feels like there is very little reflection on how our words may be interpreted by others.

This is not to say that conversations via postal mail and editorials in newspapers and newsletters did not get heated, (a review of diaries and journals and newspapers even 100 years ago would prove that) but rather that it is difficult to have a "flame war" when the distance between responses is counted in days rather than seconds.

For the majority of my life I have utilized computers and the internet for writing and communication, going back to my BBS and sites like CompuServe and Q-Link, but my main method of communication during those early days was still by handwritten letters and notes.  As a writer I still feel that I communicate better when putting my words to paper - I struggle to write online in what I consider an "appropriate tone."  But then, I am of a different generation than most of the people I know, a member of "the lost generation" who grew up straddling the "space age" of the 60's and 70s and the "information age" of today.

Even writing this, on my laptop while sitting in my living room, I feel like I'm not saying what I want to say.  I feel like, at my desk with pen and paper I would be more eloquent.  My writing style here seems distant and stilted.

I wonder what other people think.  Has the method of transmission changed the way that we communicate with others?  Does instant communication lead to more conflict?  Is there a way to effectively communicate in this new world?

Status update.

It's a curious thing.  I have so much to write about, but there is little of it that I feel I can share outside of my small circle, when really I want to shout it from the rooftops.  Perhaps it is enough to say that I am very happy right now, taking nothing for granted, and feel more alive than I have in a very long time.

Also just noticed that my keyboard is dusty from disuse.  I'll deal with that later.

It was worth trying

At the end of the week I will be ending my work assignment.  Really, I took it just to see if I could handle an office position again.  Answer:  No.

On one hand, I feel let down with myself.  It's not the work - I love the work.  For someone like me, it's fun.  If I could do my work in a room with a door, I'd be more than fine.  But in the middle of a cubicle farm I'm just not able to handle it.  So, it's back to where I was four weeks ago, with a little more knowledge about my limits.  And a small amount of pocket change.  So for an experiment it's not such a bad thing.

I'm working hard on remaining peaceful.  It's more difficult than it sounds.  There are things swirling around me that I don't understand, but I'm going to let them swirl without taking action until I understand in fullness.  I'm happy in certain ways, worried in others, and just a tiny bit afraid.  Relaxing my defenses a bit so that I can experience these feelings and grok them to the best of my ability.

Maybe I can write some small bits of it as fiction - it's all too strange to be true.

Short and Sweet

I am going to be basic and just say that it was a good weekend.  I'm happy, though I'm probably leaving some people confused.  I'll straighten it out later.

A girl and her fukusa

Those who know me may know that I am a student of chanoyu - Japanese tea ceremony.  I am a rank beginner - I have a long way to go before I can even conduct the most simple of tea ceremonies.  The discipline is what I crave, that and the meditative state that comes over me when I'm reducing my focus to the simple and yet demanding steps of ritually cleansing my tools and preparing a bowl of tea.  For me, it is just as demanding as any martial art, and as rewarding both physically and mentally (anyone who thinks tea is not physically demanding should try to sit properly in seiza and do anything at all - just sitting can be a workout in itself!)

A good friend of mine and I attended the tea ceremony demonstration at the Arizona Matsuri this weekend.  The master doing the demonstration was a woman from my school of tea, but not from my circle, so I had never seen her serve tea before.  The circumstances were not perfect, of course.  Tea ceremony is rarely done for more more than four or five guests, for logistical reasons if nothing else, and the demos held close to 30 people.  The master only made tea for the first two guests, and assistants from the mizuya (the area where one prepares for ceremony) brought tea to everyone else so that they could experience the flavor of the tea.

The master, an older woman in elegantly understated kimono, moved surely and calmly despite the difficulty of the situation and the noise of people moving around, taking pictures, murmuring to one another.  I watched her as she composed herself and began the ceremony.  her hands trembled, I know not if from fatigue or from age or for some other reason, but her movements were sure and deliberate, and achingly beautiful.

I found myself focusing intently on her handling of her fukusa - the silk cloth used to purify the tea utensils before and after ceremony.  This cloth, and the folding of it, is the most stressful part of ceremony for me, because I want so badly to do this well, and mine always ends up looking a mess once folded.  The master and her fukusa seemed almost as one, with the cloth almost seeming to anticipate her wishes and fold into elegant forms with only the slightest touch of her fingers.  There were no wasted movements, a slight movement of the palm, a thumb gently securing a corner, a finger run lightly along the center of the folded cloth.

The serenity of the master's face as she handled her tools struck me as beautiful, and in that moment I no longer noticed the people around me, the uncomfortable plastic chair where I perched, the less than perfect surroundings.  Because of the master, tea can be wherever it is.  I watched her prepare tea, and my heart was at ease, and I drank my tea with happiness in my heart and fully in the present moment.

Today, I took up my tools again, and tried to imitate her movements, to find within me the grace she displayed, and to find the personality within my fukusa.  My folds are still clumsy, my hands still imprecise, but there is joy in my heart and peace in my soul as the silk caresses my hands.  I continue along my path along the way, once again reminded that it is the journey inside me that makes the way, my way of tea.

Anger - A chance to grow

"People deal too much with the negative, with what is wrong. Why not try and see positive things, to just touch those things and make them bloom?" - Thích Nhất Hạnh 

Too quick, my emotions overflow before I have time to think.  Pain, betrayal, disappointment often wash over me before I fully process and understand what is happening.  I judge too quickly, then regret my lack of control, my lack of compassion and love for people around me.  Looking inside, I don't like what I see.

Sometimes it just takes going back to the basics.  Breathing.  In.  Out.  In.  Out.

I was angry at you tonight.  I wanted to lash out.  Please forgive me for my angry thoughts.  I still love you as the precious flower you are.  It is my understanding that is lacking.  I will try harder.

A change in plans.

I've been away for a bit, so no new posts. Gomen nasai...

The last few weeks have been rocky. I've been far more active than I am used to, have not been sleeping well, and my domestic schedule has gone off the rails. Also, I've started a new part time job.

Mostly I'm working just to see if I can. I crave solitude, and hate the impersonal... soul-emptiness of a cubicle farm. There are so many mental signatures, and the subliminal sound of hundreds of hearts beating and bodies protesting the silence with muffled coughs and sighs, the murmer of hushed phone conversations, and the constant unnatural tapping of keyboards and pens and copy machines tangled together in an inescapable drone that resonates within my very bones and makes focus difficult.

I'm hoping that this experiment will succeed, but part of me wants to fail. If I fail I can go back to my quiet, orderly life. I can work at my own pace, without deadlines, and in relative quiet. But, at this time, income is required, and I am doing my best to bring some in.

I truly wonder how people work and have social lives and manage to maintain their sanity.

Busy busy busy

Yeah I haven't posted, and I don't have time now, but here.




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Goofing Off

Sometimes it just feels good to be allowed to be girly for a while.  Plans for today are to veg out with a friend and watch shoujo anime.  Maybe make some Potato Leek soup. Nothing complicated.

Even With All That Went Wrong...

It was a nice get-together. For the first time we successfully smoked chicken in the offset smoker, and it was incredibly good.  I'm really looking forward to doing it again, and learning how to do other meats.  Pretty much all the food was decent, and the wines were nice, if not ones I would normally drink (one was a chardonnay that was not aged in wood, so it was missing the notes that I enjoy, but made it drinkable for John.)  Gaming after dinner was lots of fun.  The only thing missing was a roaring fire (alas we have no fireplace.)

Never mind that I tried to close the vents on the searing hot firebox with my bare hands.  Or that I twisted my ankle in the kitchen.  Or that, once told to sit down so I didn't do any more damage to myself, my back decided to give out on me.  It was a good evening.  Thank you, everyone, for helping to make last night a success.

Off the Rails

Yeah, I haven't posted in a while.  I haven't done much of anything.  Between sickness and stress, I've been doing little besides playing Sims3 to distract myself.  The house hasn't quite fallen apart yet, but there is a lot that needs to be done.

My biggest problem, right now and throughout my life, is that I do not process stress well.  Set a problem in front of me and my mind starts racing, looking for a solution.  It will sneak in while I'm working, while I'm playing.  It will be in my mind while I'm tossing and turning while seeking sleep, and it will be the first thing in my mind when I wake up.  I will dream of digging, trying to move mountains of dirt that never diminish.  After a few days my hands start to shake.  My body will start to fail, my muscles will ache from constant tension.  Mysterious flickers appear just outside of my field of vision.  I fall into despair.  I become paranoid.  And it just goes downhill from there.

That's kinda where I am now.  So please bear with me.  Hopefully it will all be done by this weekend.

Quarter Past Time

Finally the holidays are over.  It will feel good to get back into a schedule that isn't broken up by parties and social obligations.  Still, there are now a lot more commitments and time-sucking items on my calendar.  Some things...I wonder if it was a good idea to take them on.  But I will put a good face on it and do my best, hopefully without exhausting myself as I did two nights ago - I'm still recovering.  I have to remember that I  have neither the stamina for late hours nor the mental state to deal with intense social stimulation.  I'm going to have to temper my desire to be useful with my known limitations.  Not at all easy.

I'm not behind on my housekeeping, really, but I'm starting early so that tomorrow is not so overwhelming.  If the weather warms up a bit I'm going to schedule a couple of writing hours outside on the patio, just to see what comes out.  I'd really like to get back to my apartment story, and pick apart my one finished NaNo submission to see what can be salvaged.  Maybe even get in 30 minutes of yoga or something.