Book on Addictions
Posted by: thelizardlady on: February 20, 2010
Not sure the link will work, I’ll edit it if it doesn’t (I like things being easy). I am reading this book for a training I’m attending next week:
It’s fascinating reading, and shows some of what it means to be American. We’re a people overcome with our appetites (addictions) for things that we aren’t allowed to talk about or deal with in a healthy way (drugs, alcohol, sex, food, religion, and more) that we often use to mask pain that we don’t want to feel or deal with. We all either are or know someone who has used something as an obsession to keep them from feeling pain, from facing hard things that hold them back from really living.
If we could talk honestly and openly about things, instead of making people feel uncomfortable when they make us think, we’d all be healthier. I think often we’re making people feel bad not because what they’re doing is so wrong, but because it might make us see something about ourselves we’d rather pretend isn’t there. If we can condemn them, we can continue to delude ourselves into thinking that there’s nothing wrong with us.
But looking at these things can help us talk about them, and can help us understand each other better, and can maybe help us all be a little healthier and stronger. We won’t get out of this life very well if we try to do it alone.
Peace.
Bifidus Regularis
Posted by: thelizardlady on: February 3, 2010
Okay, I’ll admit it, when I hear “bifidus regularis,” I think to myself, “That can’t be a real scientific name.” Some online snooping has led me to believe that… it’s not a real scientific name. It sounded like the bifidus maybe was real, but regularis was just made to sound scientific for people who suffered with digestive woes. It turns out I was right.
Now, the issue isn’t, of course, that they make up and promote a fake scientific name for some product that apparently helps some people have more regular waste disposal. Sure, there are ways to take little things such as fiber into the body, natural ways, maybe by eating fruit and vegetables, in as close to natural raw forms as possible. Maybe tossing some wheat germ in the breading for your chicken, or eating whole grain bread instead of whatever that Wonder stuff is (I’m not convinced it’s bread). But they want us working on the bacteria.
My real issue is with the assumption that irregularity is so regular that to not be irregular is abnormal. If my digestive system actually functions normally, is there something wrong with me? After seeing ads for yogurt products that insist the problem is with the bacteria in our bellies (unrelated to all the overprocessed foods people are eating), what are we to think when everything in the tummy is hunky-dory?
I have never tried any of the enhanced yogurts. Yes, I’ve eaten yogurt. No, it’s not a staple of my diet. The more stuff they add to it, the less I want to eat it. And where do they grow digestive enzymes? I’m thinking they don’t harvest it from people (no soylent green). Which means… animals? Intestinal juices of random animals in my yogurt? Mmm. Tasty!
I don’t have a lot of problems with my digestive system. It works pretty well, even. Does that mean I should check with my doctor and tell her that I’m concerned because everything’s as it should be? What a waste that would be.
My advice? Eat some natural foods. Pick up an orange or a pear or a package of carrots, maybe some celery or grapes or broccoli. Whatever it is, chomp away on that. Drink some nice water (no sweeteners, no carbonation, no caffeine). Use more seasoning in your food than salt (and cut way down on the salt). Maybe, just maybe, your digestive quirks will find themselves disappearing as the body’s needs are met.
What a concept!
Peace.
Dreaming
Posted by: thelizardlady on: November 22, 2009
So, last night I dreamed that I had a localized ache in my back. A friend offered to rub it, and kept rubbing the wrong spot. I told him it was the wrong spot, and I even went through some contortions to point out clearly where it was, and yet he kept rubbing in the wrong place. I was growing frustrated and impatient with not being listened to.
There are people who view dreams, and every aspect in them, as a part of ourselves. I’ll try to do this.
I was clearly me, and my back actually did hurt yesterday after I played the piano for a while (attempting to gain detailed muscular control of a finger I don’t feel accurately). But, because it’s the dream, my back, which was a focus, and the pain, which was a focus, were also maybe me. The back, because parts of me are hurting. The pain, because I hurt others. This isn’t what I want, of course, but that’s what happens when we’re in relation with others (which we are, unless we’re complete hermits).
The friend was also me, trying to alleviate the pain, and rubbing in the wrong spot. I’m probably trying to help a situation, or a person, or maybe even myself, but doing it in the wrong way. I have a few places where this might actually be what’s happening. So, I’ll step back and avoid doing the things I’m doing that are probably wrong.
And yes, I do get frustrated when people don’t listen to me. When people don’t even ask. When they’re indifferent to me unless it suits their needs. When I don’t matter for who I am, but matter for what I can be to them or for them.
To think, everything I dream might just be something about me, something that I need to work on, something I need to accept, realize, internalize. The dream consciousness perhaps helps to prepare us for what we need to accept in our waking, conscious mind. Perhaps it’s preparing the unconscious first, so when we get to that place, we already have the map drawn out, we already know what we’re supposed to do, where we’re supposed to be heading. We know, and we’re more ready to accept it.
I might just look at dreams this way for a while, to see if it’s helpful for me. You never know! It might be helpful to others, who knows? It probably means more than saying this object always means this (because even Freud said sometimes a cigar is just a cigar).
I haven’t blogged much of anything since my computer died and I’ve been using a borrowed computer with an alternate operating system. And, of course, since I’ve been back in school. But maybe I’ll try again. It’s not like I have a loyal following that hangs on my every word and waits to see what I post next. But there’s a lot more freedom without that!
Peace.
Religious Pondering
Posted by: thelizardlady on: August 1, 2009
I’ve been stripping carpet. It’s important, and wow! What a fabulous difference it’s made in the aura of the living room. As I’ve worked, ideas have come to me, and one of them was about Jesus.
I’m sure you’ve heard of Jesus. He was a cool guy. There’s a religion named after him. It’s called Christianity. I was wondering, though… what if Jesus came back now, but didn’t come back in cloud of glory. What if there was no trumpet fanfare and the clouds didn’t part and the ultra-religious weren’t pulled up into the heavens while us heathens were left behind?
What if Jesus was born in a homeless shelter to an unwed mother (not far from the Bible story, really)? What if he grew up in intense poverty, and his family was migrant workers, never settling down anywhere for very long? What if he wasn’t white? What if he did all the cool things Jesus did and said all the amazing things Jesus said? Would the church that calls itself by his name recognize him?
Would the church tolerate Jesus if he were walking among us? Would they kill him? Maybe he did come back, and the Spanish Inquisition took care of him before he could raise a fuss. I just wonder, because when I hear religious people talk, I hear a lot of condemnation. When I read what Jesus said, I hear a lot of compassion—except for religious people. He was pretty hard on them for creating too many hoops for ordinary people to jump through, so they could never live up to what was expected of them. Sounds a little familiar.
So that’s what I was wondering. What if Jesus were shining your shoes or delivering your paper? He wouldn’t be a CEO. He’d just be a good guy doing amazing things. And the religious people wouldn’t like it one bit.
On that note, I’ll get back to work and pondering.
Peace.
Ranting
Posted by: thelizardlady on: August 1, 2009
I have some stuff to get off my chest. This has nothing to do with my bust or brassiere, or anything like that. Those will stay as is for now. I just need to say that I have had enough with destructive criticism. I’m tired of people whose chief joy in life is bashing others, making themselves feel better by lowering someone else (explains the sales for the supermarket tabloids, though).
If you want to feel good about yourself, try something radical like doing something impressive. Do not trample on someone whose life has been in mayhem.
Last I looked, there weren’t a lot of people who had all their shit together, but I’ve also noticed that the people who are most critical are often the ones whose lives are not where they want them to be. But if you criticize others, you can pretend your stuff doesn’t exist just a bit longer.
I am tired of being told how to do what I know I need to do. If I’m left alone, without interference, I do okay. I’m limited, I know. But I’m working hard to streamline my home and life, which got completely out of control in the past year, so I can find a healthy balance. I know I don’t have one now, but that’s hardly cause for people to stand outside my home and complain about my child and my parenting skills. They could try walking in my shoes for a bit, or… radical concept: instead of pointing an insulting finger, offer a helping hand.
So, I had to get that out there, because it’s where I’m at right now. I’ve had enough of people talking shit for my own good. If it’s for my good, you’ll find a kinder, gentler way to address me. You won’t talk about me. Talk TO me. HUGE difference.
And now, back to the work I’m doing all for me.
I have another thing to write this evening on the Christian religion—watch for it! Might piss some people off, but I am in quite the mood!
And, whoever you are, keep up the good work. I’m sure you’re doing the best job of being you that you can, just like the rest of us. Surround yourself with supportive people, you’ll find your energy is much better than if you hear the naysayers!
Yeah, I had some time to unwind after venting. And I think what my point was is that the world is a little short on compassion and understanding. Maybe we could extend a little? It’s gotta start somewhere. Why not here? Why not now?
That’s all. And don’t tell me where I’m failing, I’m keenly aware of far more of my failings than you are. I’m working on forgiving myself, while simultaneously fixing the things that need fixing. It’ll work out somehow.
Peace.
Wildlife?
Posted by: thelizardlady on: July 28, 2009
There have been a few times I went for physical therapy early, right before my daughter had an appointment, so she has accompanied me. It’s fairly interesting to watch people undergoing physical therapy. Some are doing things with serious injuries that an average person can’t do. Period. Pushups on an incline with a wounded shoulder? Standing on one leg (with an injured knee) on a trampoline, tossing a ball against another trampoline and catching it? Right, the average person probably isn’t so good at that, either. But people who want to get well will do lots of hard work. Mine is very tame by comparison—I’m fixing a hand/finger.
Anyway, leaving the appointment one day, on the way to the next appointment, I saw a groundhog and pointed it out. Now, normally I notice a lot of wildlife, because I love animals, and I point it out, but the people riding with me don’t look fast enough (headphones, or oblivion, who knows the reason?), so they miss it. However, this time, it didn’t move at all! She saw it! I drove closer, because she was so amazed it stayed still. Then we found out why…
When I said, “Look! A groundhog!”… I was pointing at a stump.
It didn’t move because… it was a stump.
I got a picture of it a week later, in exactly the same spot because… it was a stump.
But here it is, from a less-than-perfect angle, where it looks less like a groundhog. It’s a stump.
Oh, well, maybe next time. I’ve got to get her to Yellowstone, then she’d have a hard time missing animals. And I want to go back as a grown-up with real cameras! It’ll be fun! There might be room in the car if you want to tag along. Whenever we happen to go…
Walk on the Wild Side?
Posted by: thelizardlady on: July 28, 2009
Yeah, not really wild. I’m moving stuff around. I had a living room, soon it’ll be the music room, with all the household instruments localized there, new paint, new carpet, new doors, no pets. It’s a good thing. But I’m moving most of my books out of that room, where they never really belonged, but were moved when my grandmother moved in. I rebuilt the family room after she left, but by then I had new books, so I have bookcases in my kitchen, and bathroom. And hallways. (I need the room empty to put in new carpet)
I moved the first bookcase to my office in the basement, and have moved some of my writing and reference books there. No, I did not have doctor clearance (in fact “nothing heavy” was clarified in our visit today), but neither did I have help. So I moved it without injuring myself. And I’m putting the books away with NO consideration for the alphabet. It’s all about theme. It’s a brave new world for me since I’ve been a single chick. Lots of what I used to do makes no sense and seems a bit compulsive to me.
Relearning, reinventing, and actually finding that, despite taking way longer than I imagine or hope it will, the new systems are more sustainable. I just need to get through them without traumatic injury. And with consideration for other residents, human and otherwise.
I won’t use the dewey decimal system. That’s someone else’s order imposed on books, and is a little off, anyway. I’m doing it my way, because, in the end, it’s for me. I need to do what I need for myself. It’s a fascinating thing to learn. And energizing, too! Having freedom to find our own way isn’t so bad!
Back to work I go! Wheee!!
The advantage of a home with just a couple single chicks
Posted by: thelizardlady on: July 18, 2009
So, my daughter and I live here alone. No males visit us. Almost no females visit. We’re alone a lot. What do we do about it? Well, we spent yesterday wearing only bras. We couldn’t do that with a guy in the house.
It’s comfy to scrub walls in just a bra, because my sleeves don’t get all wet and soggy. I wouldn’t mind if I weren’t scrubbing, but wallpaper paste doesn’t just come off when the paper does. So I have a ritualized but thorough method to remove it. When I renovate, I do it right. If the price were right, I might do it for others, too. I’d wear more clothes, though. You’d thank me.
Back to my work… much to do, can’t lose momentum or I won’t get it back!
Peace.
My Powers
Posted by: thelizardlady on: July 14, 2009
I appear to have more power than I realized. Let me cite a couple examples, but first let me explain the root of this line of thinking.
I’m renovating my living room into a music room, but stripping out foul soiled and stained carpet. I’ve installed doors to keep it pet-free. It will be a food-free zone, also, as well as largely beverage free (although if someone special chose to drink a glass of wine in front of the fire with me, I’d do that, because it would rock).
I’m renovating because someday there might be someone who wants to spend time with me, and when there is, my home and life will be ready for that. If that time never comes, at least it’s nice for me. But I remain an optimist, anyway.
As I work, I see some stains on the ceiling from when the roof was leaking, which it did for years. The man to whom I was married for a long time was in denial. He refused to look in my daughter’s bathroom, where the ceiling was crumbling onto her toilet a little more every day for several years. I have to find the before pictures, then post them and the after pictures.
But in the living room, I looked up one day and saw water damage. The room is under two bedrooms, so it’s not like it was a leaky bathroom, it had to be roof, seeping through walls, then between beams. So I sent him a message. His reply, verbatim: You have totally altered my emotional state.
Imagine that power? To totally alter his emotional state, not put a damper on it. Total alteration (and talk about clinical, detached replies). I also had the power to repeatedly put his penis in another woman (who he later cheated on, because life works that way a lot). That was from my ugliness, and other failings, but that’s irrelevant, really. I can see why he had to go if I have that kind of power. Ugly or not, I’m able to control others at will (except most of the time, when they don’t really ask what I think).
But seriously, more people need to suck it up and be responsible for themselves. I don’t make anyone cheat on me, that’s their choice. I don’t make anyone mad, they choose to respond that way. I don’t make anyone look bad when I am able to work in my yard, only their lack of activity can make them look bad. The only one my actions reflects on is me.
I’m laughing at the ceiling stains, but soon, tomorrow, I hope, they’ll be gone, and the memory will vanish with the stains. And I’ll be left with a room that leaves me feeling serene, a space that plans for a future that I can’t define yet, that I might not recognize if I were to see a glimpse of it, but a future to which I’m going with eyes and arms open, ready to embrace it, to love it, to love me.
And now, I’d better get back to work, because the one person I have the best chance of controlling is me.
Peace.
People I Once Knew
Posted by: thelizardlady on: July 10, 2009
I’ve been wondering lately. There are people I’ve known who have walked out of my life for various reasons. Sometimes it’s because we went separate directions and made new friends and met new people. It’s not that we want to be finished with them, it’s just that our time together reaches an end (think high school graduation for an easy example).
But other people… they just finish with me, and I’m not sure why. I’m not sure if I have some fatal character flaw that drives them away, or if they just get too busy. I’m not sure if I’ve done something to offend them (sometimes I know I have, because they get mad at me for something I did—often when I’ve done the right thing), but if I have, I never get the chance to apologize or make amends.
Some people, I walk away from them. I have to. I give a great deal of myself, and they take and take until I have nothing left to give. To save myself, I need to set firmer boundaries, and sometimes they dislike it enough to be finished with me.
But those are just some of the reasons we stop knowing people we once knew. And it isn’t the big question of the night. My big question is this: do they remember me? In some surprising cases, I have learned that they do. But in others, I really wonder. Has my life intersected with another’s in a meaningful way for no reason at all?
I wonder often… if I were to die tomorrow, would anyone really notice? Would anyone really care? Would anyone remember me? And what can I do to improve myself enough that they would remember? Is it even possible?
There are many people I once knew who I’ve forgotten. There are people I’ll never forget. There are those I loved for a time, but stopped loving—I don’t hate them, because I don’t love them enough to hate. There are those I loved for a time who stopped loving me, and I’ll never forget—I don’t hate them because I love them too much to hate. But I wonder, do they think of me? If they do, how am I remembered?
Would they even know who I really am? Does anyone know who I am? Will anyone ever take the time and effort to know me? To make me feel safe enough that I can be who I am without fear of reprisals? People are scared to really know others—sure you can talk weather, sports, even politics and religion. But they don’t want to know what your inner world looks like, how you feel. So you learn to not risk disclosure, because it will only be used against you at an opportune time—for them.
And maybe I’m not really sure what I was wondering. I wonder why people can discard others with such ease, why they can get angry over petty things, why they’re scared to really be themselves and risk letting someone really know them. I’m confused about why more good people aren’t close to good people and more bad people aren’t close to bad people. Good people are sucked dry by bad people, and all that goodness is wasted.
The people I once knew… do they remember me? And who is the me they remember? If I overheard them talking about me, would I even recognize the person they were discussing?
Lest you wonder, I’m not drinking alcohol to help me wallow in the sentiments (I’m drinking caffeine just to use it up). I’m not weeping. I’m not laughing. I’m just wondering.
And so it is.
Search
- None
- renaterebecca: Indeed, spring does have a smell. I'm so happy it is finally smelling like spring ! It is also great to wake up and hear some birds sing!
- My Camera, My Friend: I love the morning you first walk outside and smell spring. It's so wonderful.
- local puppies for sale: dogs can make a house a home. they are great companions and if you only have one child at home a dog can be a playful buddy for you and your family. I
Categories
- Books (3)
- Comedy (3)
- Day-to-Day Humor (5)
- Friends and such (5)
- Home and Garden (12)
- Life in General (37)
- Pets (5)
- Psychological Insights (16)
- Religion (1)
- Romance (6)
- Uncategorized (2)
