I felt so comfy in my new environment here, I fixed a hot little Oregon Chai (sugar-free variety has been a Goddess-send!)and just enjoyed the quiet! Not so great for a blog...but then again, maybe quiet in this world of intense scrutiny and *fill any void with some kind of words that will make you seem interesting/important/invaluable* community isn't such a bad idea.
But an empty blog doesn't really address the purpose for having one, does it?
I am a privacy freak at times. Most times, if I am honest; ferociously (shades of not-so-deeply-hidden paranoia?) protecting my personal and familial rights to stay firmly within my own created world without intruders butting in where they certainly aren't wanted or entitled. Not sure if that is because I am afraid or just stubborn. A good mix of both most likely. And then, on the other side of my psyche, I crave information about how some others tick, what they think, how they view things...and why. The more interesting ones (to me) fascinate to no end.
In order to feed the one need, I must risk exposing the other.
The word Sanctuary, in itself is a huge clue to which need I value the most. But damn, the concept of blogging and the intensely creative atmosphere is irresistable!
Such a dilemma. (chuckling at my self-defeating self.)
Or is it that I am more of a control freak??? (ah, another blog topic...good segue, anyway, for another day.....hey poetry! Another blog topic! )
I'm stopping now.
heh
Sunday, April 18
Saturday, January 16
Mind Games
All my life I've had flashes of brilliance...and moments of pure bimbo-esque brain blanks. I didn't necessarily notice those bi-polar tendencies very much when I was younger because, well, hell, I was young and immortal then (grin). So I don't think it is necessarily an *age thang*. I may only think that now because I am not on the upswing of youth! Let's face it, when you have had at least a half century of non-stop thought 24/7, 60/24, 60/60, a certain amount of honestly earned weariness sets into the ole brain cells. (that is actually pretty scary, realizing that I have never had a vacation from my own brain for ONE SECOND of my life!I am ALWAYS there!!!) Slipping into true denial isn't something I can readily do. And I have never adhered to any external mind altering tools that would dull my brain enough to create a respite of non-thought haze in which to hide. Too damn stubborn a control freak. And yet, as much as I like to control certain things, others I just couldn't give a hoot about.
I'll sometimes write something and then a while later go back and read the words, and think...Gees, that was pretty good...and wonder who the heck was inhabiting my body when I wrote it! I truly don't know where some of those words come from. I amaze myself (haha) because I'm always thinking that if I were just smarter/wiser/funnier/wittier/ I could have been so much more effective in life/liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
I think too much. I think too hard, but I often don't think to the best ends of my thoughts. There is an impish little sprite that pulls me back from the pitfalls of too much stoic intelligence and goads me into breaking out in dance, or song, and a verse of *I don't care, I don't care, neener neener I don't caaaare* that saves me from my more brilliant self!
It's as if I will always own Park Place, but sabotage myself from ever owning Board Walk, too.
Maybe I should start embracing those mind altering external tools. Nah. I don't really want to miss the next round of utter chaos that is my brain. I've grown kind of fond of the ladies who dwell there and much too addicted to the games of my mind.
I'll sometimes write something and then a while later go back and read the words, and think...Gees, that was pretty good...and wonder who the heck was inhabiting my body when I wrote it! I truly don't know where some of those words come from. I amaze myself (haha) because I'm always thinking that if I were just smarter/wiser/funnier/wittier/ I could have been so much more effective in life/liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
I think too much. I think too hard, but I often don't think to the best ends of my thoughts. There is an impish little sprite that pulls me back from the pitfalls of too much stoic intelligence and goads me into breaking out in dance, or song, and a verse of *I don't care, I don't care, neener neener I don't caaaare* that saves me from my more brilliant self!
It's as if I will always own Park Place, but sabotage myself from ever owning Board Walk, too.
Maybe I should start embracing those mind altering external tools. Nah. I don't really want to miss the next round of utter chaos that is my brain. I've grown kind of fond of the ladies who dwell there and much too addicted to the games of my mind.
Friday, January 15
The Mind Never Sleeps. Kind of like those ocean waves....
Just relax...No NO I can't..the mind never sleeps!
disclaimer: Not seeking specific revelation, spiritual guidance. No specific personal quest here. Just one of many topics of conversation I had with the ocean this past while. And since the Ocean doesn't reply back except with basically the same monitone *uh splash huh*, I was having a lot of one sided conversations....but, the scenery was breathtaking! So these comments are not seeking personal clarity, just things that made me go hmmmm...and wondering if they make anyone else go hmmmm too.
******
Karma: if you believe in it in any form...the supreme court judgment of fate, moral retribution of the religious variety, spiritual balance, the cycle of cause and effect...good is as good does...what goes around comes around...whatever...
If you believe that you *pay* for your own behavioral modifications of life through some kind of Karmic justice or reward...what is the explanation when you realize you may become the walking, living, breathing victim of someone ELSE's Karma being practiced on them? That in spite of how you put the goodness out there, that Karma may take a bite of your life anyway in using your life and persona as a tool of someone else's big K.
******
Expectations: Whoever we are now in life, wherever we have come from we all start out with expectations. One of these expectations drummed into us from infanthood on is that we will live happily ever after~which includes finding a mate and...well, living happily ever after. Different countries provide different settings. It requires very little qualifying when we hear it for the first thousand times during our impressionable youth. It is just an assured statement.
"It will happen"
Question it and you will be pretty much ignored or patronized or branded a ______ fill in the blank for whatever term your generation gave to those who dared to think differently and question (grin)
Even in a world of enlightenment, not finding the relentlessly insinuated happily ever after attached to the prince charming or cinderella woman (small sidebar grin) still implies a certain failure or unworthiness. To both genders, really, though there are certain unappealing stereotyped labels that apply to one gender more than the other. The thought is still universal and heart felt, no matter the sex of the heart that may be searching for it just because it was stated as an expectation.
Failed expectation knows no gender.
And long after anyone actually DOES care what happens to you because they are dealing with their own life's unfulfilled demons and desires, we continue to beat the crap out of ourselves about it.
Get a mate, settle, compromise, balance, delude, assure, promise, deny...enjoy, grieve, rejoice, renege, insist, pretend...where is Alfie when you want to know what it is all about anyway? (ah good old songs live forever in the heart of hopefulless romantics!)
There just are so many unfulfilled hearts, so many truly walking wounded, even among those you would have bet your last penny were the real thing promised by all those expectations...to find one actually fulfilled and honestly not living in some kind of den of denial or fool's paradise...it might seem such an extreme oddity that you would tend not to fully believe their counsel and proclamations. It would tend to make you think that the "ever after" is, and always was, an extinct concept. And the best expectation is ...none at all.
However, (continuing this ocean speak stream of consciousness) if the answer so often heard in reply to the achy breaky business of happily ever after is...to love thyself first and foremost, to know thyself and then you can handle everything...
where's the challenge?
where's the mystery?
where's the magic?
the sparkle,
the thrill...
have we permanently fucked ourselves?
Patience: Good things come to those who wait. Ah...but...A watched pot never boils. Yeah, yeah. LOL. If you stay patient as long as some people tell you to be patient, you will die first before ever making good hearty soup in that boiling pot!!! And if you don't watch the pot, the water will, at some point, evaporate and the bottom of the pot gets allll blackened.
You can't win for losing!
Cripes. Some people actually come back from the ocean relaxed!
disclaimer: Not seeking specific revelation, spiritual guidance. No specific personal quest here. Just one of many topics of conversation I had with the ocean this past while. And since the Ocean doesn't reply back except with basically the same monitone *uh splash huh*, I was having a lot of one sided conversations....but, the scenery was breathtaking! So these comments are not seeking personal clarity, just things that made me go hmmmm...and wondering if they make anyone else go hmmmm too.
******
Karma: if you believe in it in any form...the supreme court judgment of fate, moral retribution of the religious variety, spiritual balance, the cycle of cause and effect...good is as good does...what goes around comes around...whatever...
If you believe that you *pay* for your own behavioral modifications of life through some kind of Karmic justice or reward...what is the explanation when you realize you may become the walking, living, breathing victim of someone ELSE's Karma being practiced on them? That in spite of how you put the goodness out there, that Karma may take a bite of your life anyway in using your life and persona as a tool of someone else's big K.
******
Expectations: Whoever we are now in life, wherever we have come from we all start out with expectations. One of these expectations drummed into us from infanthood on is that we will live happily ever after~which includes finding a mate and...well, living happily ever after. Different countries provide different settings. It requires very little qualifying when we hear it for the first thousand times during our impressionable youth. It is just an assured statement.
"It will happen"
Question it and you will be pretty much ignored or patronized or branded a ______ fill in the blank for whatever term your generation gave to those who dared to think differently and question (grin)
Even in a world of enlightenment, not finding the relentlessly insinuated happily ever after attached to the prince charming or cinderella woman (small sidebar grin) still implies a certain failure or unworthiness. To both genders, really, though there are certain unappealing stereotyped labels that apply to one gender more than the other. The thought is still universal and heart felt, no matter the sex of the heart that may be searching for it just because it was stated as an expectation.
Failed expectation knows no gender.
And long after anyone actually DOES care what happens to you because they are dealing with their own life's unfulfilled demons and desires, we continue to beat the crap out of ourselves about it.
Get a mate, settle, compromise, balance, delude, assure, promise, deny...enjoy, grieve, rejoice, renege, insist, pretend...where is Alfie when you want to know what it is all about anyway? (ah good old songs live forever in the heart of hopefulless romantics!)
There just are so many unfulfilled hearts, so many truly walking wounded, even among those you would have bet your last penny were the real thing promised by all those expectations...to find one actually fulfilled and honestly not living in some kind of den of denial or fool's paradise...it might seem such an extreme oddity that you would tend not to fully believe their counsel and proclamations. It would tend to make you think that the "ever after" is, and always was, an extinct concept. And the best expectation is ...none at all.
However, (continuing this ocean speak stream of consciousness) if the answer so often heard in reply to the achy breaky business of happily ever after is...to love thyself first and foremost, to know thyself and then you can handle everything...
where's the challenge?
where's the mystery?
where's the magic?
the sparkle,
the thrill...
have we permanently fucked ourselves?
Patience: Good things come to those who wait. Ah...but...A watched pot never boils. Yeah, yeah. LOL. If you stay patient as long as some people tell you to be patient, you will die first before ever making good hearty soup in that boiling pot!!! And if you don't watch the pot, the water will, at some point, evaporate and the bottom of the pot gets allll blackened.
You can't win for losing!
Cripes. Some people actually come back from the ocean relaxed!
Wednesday, January 6
Ah! Chance
Fresh beginnings with vintage friends.
Soulful promises cut some slack.
Oh! Status quo, some hearts don't bend.
Bittersweet memories with untied ends.
Moving forward, a few glances back.
Tearing apart, yet seeking amends.
Resolutions to what?
Change the obvious?
Oblivious to change?
Successful failure?
Fulfillments feigned?
Quotidian dreams
So it seems.
Hopeful hyperbole dousing fears
Own bootstraps firmly tugged.
Brave new world, drying tears.
Positively shifting gears.
Self healing needs luxuriously hugged.
As magic midnite minute nears.
Ah, Chance, another New Year.
skg
Soulful promises cut some slack.
Oh! Status quo, some hearts don't bend.
Bittersweet memories with untied ends.
Moving forward, a few glances back.
Tearing apart, yet seeking amends.
Resolutions to what?
Change the obvious?
Oblivious to change?
Successful failure?
Fulfillments feigned?
Quotidian dreams
So it seems.
Hopeful hyperbole dousing fears
Own bootstraps firmly tugged.
Brave new world, drying tears.
Positively shifting gears.
Self healing needs luxuriously hugged.
As magic midnite minute nears.
Ah, Chance, another New Year.
skg
Sunday, April 26
Prepare yourself to be "Surprised".
Just recently we all embraced another *book by its cover* media moment that catapulted a very everyday person with delightful talent into the spotlight.
Susan Boyle, as advertised, DOES have talent. And though I am sure a certain judge's eyes lit up with exploding dollar signs, I am also sure that certain judge also thoroughly was charmed by the voice...and the potent backstory. He looked momentarily smitten.
We all were smitten. Some, more than others, though, were highly guilty of the obnoxious visual ridicule often doled out without regard to sensitivity at very everyday people when they look less than airbrushed barbie doll/matiness idol perfect.
I'll mention the verbal vileness later.
Easy judgmental ridicule, unfortunately, will never go away. In particular, in regards to the less than the aforementioned airbrushed perfection that much of the world has come to value more than genuine character, it permeates a very ugly part of our society. Easy targets, we imperfect people of everyday life. Easy targets, those who ARE in the spolight and lean away from the trend of perfection expected in some bland, predictable, cellulite-free but dangerously potent world of ungodly physical expectations. It takes no brains. It isn't a challenge. Easy. Ugly. Mean.
After all, when we so readily point fingers at others' physicality we don't have to exert any time trying to improve ourselves in any way. We don't have to address our own imperfections. Internal and external.
When anyone does that kind of judging, we all should be totally ashamed. Of us when we do it, of others and society for putting up with it. And not just for the fifteen minutes it takes for the media to recover and start finding ways to criticize the very person they just wanted to magnify to teach lessons in grace and humility. We should all conscientiously STOP the crap.
Moving on to the verbal ridicule. With all the fabulous plusses of the Internet, the vile ugliness that annonimity presents to judgmental...spooge...on social message boards and article comment columns has magnified to a wretched level over the years. Say anything, be as crass and disgusting as you want...it's only words and comments on an Intenet and very few will ever be held accountable for their ugliness.
It's sickening what gets put out there without any accountability or civility. It's also the baggage of a more free society.
But, pushing aside the soapbox I find myself tettering on the edge of and getting my revved up, ranting tush back onto the original subject...(la la la)...we should always be prepared to be surprised in life.
Surprised by the quiet or subtle talents of everyday people walking around us. Surprised and passionate about the subtle or honest talents of the unairbrushed. Our lives are filled with them. These people who don't "look the part" but provide us with a richness of spirit and beauty that is invaluable in today's chaos and stress. Daresay, we all have a certain talent to our personality that is there to be admired.
THAT is the reality. Everyday gems. In brown paper wrappers, with non-glittering bows.
It is easy to shut out the potential and rewards of surprise behind a repugnant mask of ridicule and judgment. It isn't the least bit smart.
We should be seeking these surprises wholeheartedly in every walk of life. We should not be afraid to BE that gem to someone else. Yeah, yeah, I know for a fact that there are people who just ARE mean, and rude, and crass and will not have a LightBulb moment of clarity. Ever. Yadda yadda yadda blah blah blah. But I also believe that they are few and far between if you just give people the benefit of the doubt of being human, you will find surprises all the time.
We should be prepared for that. With anticipation and even some giddiness.
Not to reek of Pollyana perfume, but come on. How long is it going to take to knock off the crap of equating physical beauty with worth and give ourselves the gift of enjoying the diversity and pleasures of humanity on every single level?
Cherish the existance of Surpises.
Susan Boyle, as advertised, DOES have talent. And though I am sure a certain judge's eyes lit up with exploding dollar signs, I am also sure that certain judge also thoroughly was charmed by the voice...and the potent backstory. He looked momentarily smitten.
We all were smitten. Some, more than others, though, were highly guilty of the obnoxious visual ridicule often doled out without regard to sensitivity at very everyday people when they look less than airbrushed barbie doll/matiness idol perfect.
I'll mention the verbal vileness later.
Easy judgmental ridicule, unfortunately, will never go away. In particular, in regards to the less than the aforementioned airbrushed perfection that much of the world has come to value more than genuine character, it permeates a very ugly part of our society. Easy targets, we imperfect people of everyday life. Easy targets, those who ARE in the spolight and lean away from the trend of perfection expected in some bland, predictable, cellulite-free but dangerously potent world of ungodly physical expectations. It takes no brains. It isn't a challenge. Easy. Ugly. Mean.
After all, when we so readily point fingers at others' physicality we don't have to exert any time trying to improve ourselves in any way. We don't have to address our own imperfections. Internal and external.
When anyone does that kind of judging, we all should be totally ashamed. Of us when we do it, of others and society for putting up with it. And not just for the fifteen minutes it takes for the media to recover and start finding ways to criticize the very person they just wanted to magnify to teach lessons in grace and humility. We should all conscientiously STOP the crap.
Moving on to the verbal ridicule. With all the fabulous plusses of the Internet, the vile ugliness that annonimity presents to judgmental...spooge...on social message boards and article comment columns has magnified to a wretched level over the years. Say anything, be as crass and disgusting as you want...it's only words and comments on an Intenet and very few will ever be held accountable for their ugliness.
It's sickening what gets put out there without any accountability or civility. It's also the baggage of a more free society.
But, pushing aside the soapbox I find myself tettering on the edge of and getting my revved up, ranting tush back onto the original subject...(la la la)...we should always be prepared to be surprised in life.
Surprised by the quiet or subtle talents of everyday people walking around us. Surprised and passionate about the subtle or honest talents of the unairbrushed. Our lives are filled with them. These people who don't "look the part" but provide us with a richness of spirit and beauty that is invaluable in today's chaos and stress. Daresay, we all have a certain talent to our personality that is there to be admired.
THAT is the reality. Everyday gems. In brown paper wrappers, with non-glittering bows.
It is easy to shut out the potential and rewards of surprise behind a repugnant mask of ridicule and judgment. It isn't the least bit smart.
We should be seeking these surprises wholeheartedly in every walk of life. We should not be afraid to BE that gem to someone else. Yeah, yeah, I know for a fact that there are people who just ARE mean, and rude, and crass and will not have a LightBulb moment of clarity. Ever. Yadda yadda yadda blah blah blah. But I also believe that they are few and far between if you just give people the benefit of the doubt of being human, you will find surprises all the time.
We should be prepared for that. With anticipation and even some giddiness.
Not to reek of Pollyana perfume, but come on. How long is it going to take to knock off the crap of equating physical beauty with worth and give ourselves the gift of enjoying the diversity and pleasures of humanity on every single level?
Cherish the existance of Surpises.
Friday, April 10
A Picture Worth a Thousand Words?
More like one word is worth a thousand pictures, these days.
I love good photography. A brilliant picture can bring me to tears depending on the subject matter. I adorn my walls at the Goddess' lair with some pretty potent copies of moments in time that bring a tug to my heart and a million thoughts to my mind. Our world would be a much duller place without the dreams and visions and memories created by the perfect pictures of our lives and universe.
BUT...(you knew there was a big BUT coming! Hey, don't knock big buts ...grin...)
Why the hell does every single gawd blessed moment of every single political press conference shown as "breaking news" on CNN, HDLN or MSNBC (sorry, I refuse to even consider that other moronic cable news station as anything but a permanent skip in my remote control channel list) become an instant audio battleground. The battle becomes the fight of actually HEARING what is being said over the constant, ridiculous whir buzzz click of countless cameras that are manned by photographers that OBVIOUSLY cannot get a good shot in the first thirty seconds and should probably be in another profession or start stalking some hapless celebrities. COME ON. The people speaking barely MOVE.
How many pictures does one need of our beloved President turning his head slightly to the right or left and oooo, ooo, raising his hand an inch to clarify or magnify his words?
WORDS. You know, the things coming out of his mouth that you can't HEAR because the dayyyyyam photographers NEVER STOP CLICKING.
Honest to Pete...hey, who is this Pete anyway?...take the damn pictures in the first minute, then shut UP with the camera clicks.
With the feed they had this morning on all the news stations, there was a most annoying interference of media click-hounds relentlessly vying for...who the hell knows, the perfect picture of the President sitting almost motionless at a table?...drowning out every second word he was trying to say.
Moronic.
I love good photography. A brilliant picture can bring me to tears depending on the subject matter. I adorn my walls at the Goddess' lair with some pretty potent copies of moments in time that bring a tug to my heart and a million thoughts to my mind. Our world would be a much duller place without the dreams and visions and memories created by the perfect pictures of our lives and universe.
BUT...(you knew there was a big BUT coming! Hey, don't knock big buts ...grin...)
Why the hell does every single gawd blessed moment of every single political press conference shown as "breaking news" on CNN, HDLN or MSNBC (sorry, I refuse to even consider that other moronic cable news station as anything but a permanent skip in my remote control channel list) become an instant audio battleground. The battle becomes the fight of actually HEARING what is being said over the constant, ridiculous whir buzzz click of countless cameras that are manned by photographers that OBVIOUSLY cannot get a good shot in the first thirty seconds and should probably be in another profession or start stalking some hapless celebrities. COME ON. The people speaking barely MOVE.
How many pictures does one need of our beloved President turning his head slightly to the right or left and oooo, ooo, raising his hand an inch to clarify or magnify his words?
WORDS. You know, the things coming out of his mouth that you can't HEAR because the dayyyyyam photographers NEVER STOP CLICKING.
Honest to Pete...hey, who is this Pete anyway?...take the damn pictures in the first minute, then shut UP with the camera clicks.
With the feed they had this morning on all the news stations, there was a most annoying interference of media click-hounds relentlessly vying for...who the hell knows, the perfect picture of the President sitting almost motionless at a table?...drowning out every second word he was trying to say.
Moronic.
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