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.
You’ve received a greeting ecard
Posted by: thelizardlady on: July 10, 2009
I have a few domains. I get that message ( see subject line) many, many times each day. Oddly, I have friends who tell me that they have fallen for it, multiple times, and have gotten viruses on their computers. If someone sends me an ecard, it comes from their email address, and I know them.
Of course, I almost never get ecards. That’s just how it goes. The world doesn’t end because of it. But I am so sick of spam! Do these people really have nothing else to do with their lives?
I get sick of deleting them all (of course, I don’t actually want them, so the other option—keeping them—is worse).
But that’s today’s lighthearted post. If I put up the other one, it won’t be so lighthearted.
Peace.
Do fruit flies drink soy milk?
Posted by: thelizardlady on: July 8, 2009
Ahh, summer! That lovely time of year when birds and bugs and animals wander through the neighborhoods, and the little bugs slip into the house. In winter, if you have fruit flies, it’s a sure bet the bananas have to go. But in summer, they can fly in from outside, so you can actually find a single fruit fly in an unfinished glass of orange juice.
Have you noticed there are people like that, who never finish a drink? They’ll pour more than one drink, and leave various volumes. Sometimes the glass is half full (in the literal sense, of course—and when you’ve paid for it, half full is how you see it, too), sometimes it’s a quarter full, sometimes it’s completely full. But they haven’t emptied it, that’s the point. If it’s water, it’s not a problem, but when is it ever water?
So, last night, there was a half glass of orange juice and a full glass of soy milk. I realize soy milk is a vegetable product, and this is organic, too. So it’s not too strange a question. The fruit fly picked the orange juice, but it made me wonder: do fruit flies drink soy milk?
And on that same note… Last night was my first night sleeping without a splint since May 22. I woke up in the middle of the night, about 3 a.m., and my finger was feeling sharp pain. I attributed it to the pressure bandage, but I could still sleep. This morning, I removed the bandage, and there was a hard lump on the top knuckle. I thought it was from the bandage being wrapped wrong, but now I see there is a distinct center to it, so I’m watching. It appears I’ve been bitten, and it hurts a lot.
Why would a critter bite me in my sleep on the finger wrapped tightly in coban with silicone scar pads? It found an opening, obviously. Nine healthy fingers, one damaged, and it found the damaged one to chomp upon. It still hurts, which annoys me, because as soon as I start physical therapy for the day, it will hurt more!
And it’s only a distraction. I might put the glass of soy milk on my table on the porch to see what drinks it. It’s all in the name of science, right? Fruit flies like produce. They might go for the sweeter stuff first, but if the other stuff is easily accessible, will they take it? Time will tell!
Someone asked me recently what I look for in a man (my answer applies to what I look for in people who I want to spend time with; the question came from a man I don’t want to spend time with who doesn’t necessarily believe me when I say that). I look for intellectual curiosity in people I want to be around. If you did all your reading in school (and skipped most of it), and have no desire to learn more, if you watch “reality” (huge misnomer) television while drinking cheap beer every chance you get, then chances are we’re not going to have a lot in common. Sure, we can be polite to each other, but that’s about it.
I look for someone who makes me think of things I haven’t thought of before, who makes me see things a new way, who challenges me to not be complacent. If someone lacks intellectual curiosity and never opens a book, then I can’t see us having a lot of meaningful conversations. Sure, we all need time to just be silly, but… not all the time!
This is way more than I planned to write. I planned to ask about fruit flies and soy milk. Oh, well. I type a little fast. Off to experiment!
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