Friday

Okay, now three writing projects I want to work on, and I misplaced the book with the monologue in it.  I think it's in the house; I really need to get through this purging thing, everything is in more disarray than it was before, mid-process.  The tendon thing is unpleasant, but I think better when I write long-hand.

Did someone say today would be chaotic?  Today is chaotic.

Learning to write again

The tendons in my right hand have taken to popping, when writing, when typing.  (Yes, that, and the lingering IT Band thing, still, which makes it irritating to walk, a popping sensation at my hip.)  Attempting, in earnest, to learn to write with my left hand.  Irritatingly slow, and it looks like a four year old's writing, though in cursive.  I'm trying to tell myself that the slowness can add to reflection, though my thoughts move faster than my hand can.  I have been amusing myself by writing in reverse, since if you write right-to-left you can actually see what you wrote.  Not practical, I suppose...I haven't held it up to a mirror yet to see if I can read it.  At any rate, now's as good a time to switch to writing with my left hand as any.  (Also, need to find a left-handed can opener.  I can use a right-handed one, but have a bit of concern about slicing my hand open on the lid.)  Doors, too, generally set up for right-handedness, and I recognize why, the usefulness of that, but I also recognize that I have trouble opening them.  I've been aware of that for awhile, but have been thinking about "bias" a lot lately, and it's true that until you are on the other side of the dominant bias, you don't see the problem.  And the one I'm noticing is an inconvenience for me, it doesn't hold me back from participating or threaten my life.  But just because we do not have experience with a bias, discrimination, etc, doesn't mean it doesn't exist.  I try to stay open, have empathy for someone else's experience being different from my own, in general, but it's still a good reminder for me.

Oh, I should audition.  Three things have come up, I'll just have to have someone take a picture...and find a new, short, monologue.  Can't do the one I've got.  I need to stop coming up with excuses, and it's good practice.  (And I'm working on the cold reading.)

Naval gazing

Spent the majority of my Saturday gazing at my naval, and going through my CD collection to see what I wanted to part with.  Started on the books as well; now it's just a matter of figuring what to do with them all.  Dealing with all the emotions related to health issues.  Coming to terms with the surgical thing, researching it.  (And on a side note, message boards are filled with horror stories.  I did already know this, and it's good to know worse-case scenarios, but I don't suppose it's the standard experience.  On any review site, or message board, you get the stellar experiences and the horrendous.  Middle-of-the-road experiences don't tend to garner comment, and I imagine those are in the majority.  I remember reading reviews in search of a dentist and all of them had glowing and horror stories.  In the end, I found a toothbrush with a name on it and called it.  Worked out fine.)  I still don't know what the urgency is, I haven't been told the risks on either side; it hadn't seemed like I had the choice to not choose, but I need to emotionally get to the conclusion myself.  Oddly enough, the idea of removing emotional scars surgically, helps, whether or not that is actually what happens.  The idea of it helps with resolution.  And besides that, I do want to live.  (And because there's been no communication yet, I've gone to the worse-case scenario in my head.  My risk is probably rather low.)

Bought some salmon at the farmer's market on Saturday, didn't get around to cooking it.  Sunday morning, while reading email, I heard an explosion, thinking it might be a gunshot or left-over fire cracker, I listened for sirens, but there were none.  Forgetting about that, and trying to find something in the closet, I switched on the overhead light, it fizzled like a disturbed ember; my only thought was that I would need to get new light bulbs and figure out how to reach it (ceilings are high.)  Shortly after the house seemed quiet, and I realized the explosion was a transformer, and that the power was out.  I walked to the store to go buy fruit I'd promised to get; most of the neighborhood had power; someone texted the landlord.  I left for a while.  When I came back four hours later, it was still out, but there was a utility truck down the street.  It came back on sometime after 1 pm.  I had been wondering where I could go to cook the salmon, if the restaurant up the street would do it, if I should fire up the grill (something I don't think I've actually done before), etc.  Turned out okay, had not gone bad, but you know, a reminder to cook or freeze, in the future.

Ran out to go catch a new play, and reception for local jazz scene luminaries.  Felt lucky to be that room.  Ran into my former landlords, from years ago.  They feel like relations to me, and I enjoyed the opportunity to spend some time with them again.  Also, talked to the film maker whose film I was an extra on last winter, found out they are doing a screening in the near future.  Looking forward to seeing it.  (I reconnected with a bunch of people I'd lost touch with, yesterday.) The play itself was "Emboldened, the Rise and Fall of King Bolden the First," by Reginald Andre Jackson, dir. by Robin Lynne Smith, and music by D'Vonne Lewis.  It took me awhile to entirely follow what was going on, but I always enjoy seeing Reginald Andre Jackson and Tracy Hughes perform.  It's an engaging story about "Buddy" Bolden who was a jazz musician in New Orleans at the turn-of-the century.  He introduced a new style of playing (coronet), which changed the course of jazz, but there is no record, no recordings of his music.  The play follows him from his late teens when he picked up the coronet to his early 20's when he had a mental breakdown, was institutionalized, and fell into obscurity.  There is a parallel story of his third child, a daughter that never knew him, searching for a possible cylinder recording of his music.  Good acting (especially the three women in the cast), and great playing by the musicians.  Walked out of the theatre and went to a candlelight vigil for a local community hero, who was gunned down last Thursday, a life snuffed out too soon.  Too many deaths.  Too many answers to disagreements with escalating violence (227 shootings in Seattle this year, according to the Seattle Times.)  Too much loss.  Gaping holes not easily refilled.

Also, came to the realization that an obstacle I'd been grappling with for a while, not knowing how to proceed and feeling stuck, for a long time, was indeed a "do not enter" sign.  I accept that.  It is liberating to finally let go.  With everything lately, my emotions are swinging in a wide arc, which is better than not feeling them.  And yesterday, I fell in love with everyone; with possibility.

And we finally had rain, rain that soaked into the ground, for three days.  The sun is out now, and the heat will return.  But there was a giddiness in the air on Friday, an electricity.  A change.  Context is everything.

De-cluttering

I've found that I've been alternating between agreeing and resisting Marie Kondo's advice, and so I've let it sink in, and reread it to see where my resistance is coming from.  It's not that one person is going to have the solution for everyone, so there's that, and yet, the idea of only having what brings you joy (and picking up every item and asking that question) in your living space, which should be a sanctuary, and treating what you have with respect, makes sense.  (For the record, my biggest resistance was in regard to books, her suggestions felt cavalier to me.)  Why would I want to be surrounded by objects that didn't give me joy, or worse caused stress?  Or maybe even worse, be surrounded by things I hadn't even given much thought to, built up from sheer passivity?

Later in the book she talks about when you feel resistance to letting go (for things that don't spark joy) to ask if "this is an attachment to the past or a fear of the future?" That seems useful in general.  Perhaps it's necessary to clear out the clutter (mental and physical) of what you don't want first to find what you do.  That passivity is easy enough to slide into, how much more so when you can't even see what matters to you, because it's buried under everything else?  She says it changes lives, and I can imagine it would, because it would bring clarity.  But still....I need to start in earnest.  I've only gone through my dresser, so far.

And oddly enough, all the books I've picked up lately seem to relate, unintentionally.  It is eye-opening to realize how much of my life is still in the "should" category:  So much obligation or expectation, not enough joy or love.

Still no rain

My thoughts are still.  I long for it to rain, it's so dry.  I find the non-changing of weather or seasons somewhat oppressive, and it has been sunny for weeks.

There is writing I need to do, to work through, or to begin, but I haven't motivated myself enough to actually do it.  Perhaps it feels a little like betrayal, but maybe sometimes when you choose to take care of yourself, that's how it falls.  At any rate, I feel my thoughts are in a holding pattern until I begin.

On top of that, working up the nerve to call my doctor back.  She left a message to call, but then went on vacation.  I did leave a message, but haven't heard back.  I avoided the phone like the plague on Friday (she was back and supposed to call me), not ready to have any conversation, and consequently got a lot of other work done (funny, how we use distractions.)  It won't be good news (or I should say, nothing I want to hear, my desire for avoidance doesn't make something "bad"), but hopefully nothing catastrophic either: it took her a month to call me, and hopefully if it were something urgent or dire, she would've sent a letter, or called me sooner, or have said "urgent."  Still, denial is probably not really my friend.  I think it's about scheduling a surgical thing (which I don't want to do.)

Been on a kick of watching plant-related documentaries: a paleo-botany series on what our ancient ancestors used as food sources and how they prepared it, a video on how plants communicate, etc.  Just saw a recommendation for a book on plant healing ("Plant Spirit Medicine") that I want to check out.  Also, back into reading plays, out loud.  Both for the practice of cold reading (which I need to work on) and in my quest for good monologues.  Been finding a lot of good roles for middle-aged women (over 35.)  They are out there.  Lots of good writing.

Oh! That plant book is actually available at the library.  Cool.

Sunday Evening

I guess the thing with the moon and Venus last night was special, no such closeness tonight.  Instead we had a strong breeze, in the time it took me to finish reading a Shakespeare play (out loud, where I didn't think anyone would notice) the temperature dropped by 20 degrees (it had hit 97 before I left the house; at least according to the Weather Underground.)  There were clouds to catch the fading sun in place of any astronomical alignment.  I seem to have become a sunset-chaser as of late.  Location, I suppose (and temperatures driving me into the park.)  Always a moon- and cloud-watcher.

Once again, the moon, July 19/L Herlevi 2015

With a spine, July 19/L Herlevi 2015

Clouds, July 19/L Herlevi 2015

90's, again

In another heat wave; lower 90's here, today and tomorrow.  Went out to the park in the morning, came home for awhile, until it was unbearable, and then went back to find some shade.  Stayed to watched the sunset.  As the colors grew deeper, on their way to black, a sliver of the moon, along with Venus, appeared on the western horizon.  A short while later, Jupiter appeared, more faint, and much further away.  I stayed until the moon had set.  As the sky turned a darker blue, not quite black, and more stars began to be visible, the bats arrived to make a dent in all the swarming insects.  I walked home.  Still too hot.

Here are my attempts at handheld shots.  In the final picture, Jupiter is in the center, almost at the top of the orange.  A tiny dot, it's barely visible.

The moon and Venus, July 18/L Herlevi 2015

Dropping in the west, July 18/L Herlevi 2015

The moon, Venus, and Jupiter, July 18/L Herlevi 2015

Setting, July 18/L Herlevi 2015

Oh

I love how the the gray of the clouds is dissolving into the high blue of the sky; the smell of brewing coffee; the sense of safety and groundedness that makes me feel.  I'm trying to slow down.

A week or so ago, I fortuitously came across an essay which lit off light bulbs of recognition in my head: yeah, this is exactly what I'm dealing with.  I think I'd been hitting around it for years, in jokes that I made, but not pinpointing where it all stemmed from.  Anyway, reading more now, and my antsy-ness is that I want to face up to it and get through it...and yet is it ever that simple?  And still, better late than never, I guess?

It's a lot to deal with, but I'm excited to have a focus: I've been in this labyrinth long enough.

L Herlevi 2015

Wednesday

Woke up thinking about earthquakes, and that any preparation I had done in the past is long past useful.  Should do something about that, even if it's having a bag packed, or sturdy shoes and socks at work.  Water.

Went through about half of my clothes, and then did the folding thing she says (Kondo) in her book.  It does make more space, but it's also driving me nuts, for instance, in my shirt drawer, even thought I can see everything now, I can't find what I'm looking for.  I'll try it for a while to see if I get used to it.  I did create a "donate" pile, and on a plus side, even though I regularly empty the drawers and reorganize them, I found a shirt I hadn't noticed in a couple of years.  I know the common idea is "if you haven't worn it in a year" to toss it, but since none of my clothes are particularly trendy (or, lets face it, fashionable...last big clothes-buying was for trekking, afterall) it's like finding a new wardrobe.  Still have to conquer the closet; but clothes are the easiest to cull.  Paper seems to be the hardest, I just think I "might need it someday."

The weather has finally returned to "normal" though still quite dry (and yet in spite of that, the seeds I planted recently have sprouted.  Yea!)  Finally getting sleep, still, found myself with a lack of tolerance yesterday; mostly for lack of common sense, or people going on auto and not paying attention to their actions.  My intolerance is my problem, my other problem was that my inner censor was off, so was trying to keep to myself; was not entirely successful.

Was talking to another (older than I, and from a warmer climate) friend about the weird head feeling, she also thought it might be dehydration (which would make sense, it'd been really hot, and I was exercising a lot), or blood sugar.  Figure I can get a handle on that before seeing a doctor, they always seem to threaten a spinal tap (no thanks!)  At any rate, been about a week since it's been bad.

Planning a vacation, to a cold climate (because I'll probably go in winter.)  Get so involved in it, I'm surprised by the warmth when I walk outside.

Still sorting through the things I need to deal with.  In a state of limbo.

Thursday

The haze lingers all day.  At home now, I opened the blinds and windows for airflow, but there is none to be had.  Waited for a 5:19 bus, I don't know what time it arrived, but it was late.  Sat and read about 25 pages of a library book, only to look up and realize we hadn't even made it to the next stop.  Jumped off at 5:51 hoping to make a happy hour somewhere (for cheap eats), but ended up eating pizza and beer and continuing with the book, "the life-changing magic of tidying up," by marie kondo (uncapped on book cover.)  And I want to start now because I want things to change, but I also want to give myself the opportunity to be successful.  Other book I'm reading (bought it ages ago when I was visiting Portland) is "The Right Questions," by Debbie Ford.  Something's gotta give.  Muddling through, but could life be more?  I hope so; people in my life have had major changes in the past year and I've stayed pretty much the same.  Willing to take a chance, I think.  Trying to figure out why I haven't.  I'd forgotten about the library hold, but the timing works.

When I walked back to the stop, traffic was flowing.  People strewn along the wall, wide distances between them, as if to get too close would be to collect too much heat, impede the flow of air.  In the sky, hundreds of crows darted and cawed in play as they made their way to the evening roost, trying out this perch then that, with a touching down of feet and then immediately rising up in the air and flying off to the next.  All the while a the mass of them wheeling and diving in the sky: A slow and joyful progress.

It's funny that if you have an idea of changes you should make to improve you life first, and then find outside sources agreeing with that, it feels like validation, and gives you motivation to forge ahead.  However, if the outside calls for change happen and blindside you, you are more likely to dig in your heels, feeling bullied, and that you are not enough as you are.  A curious distinction.  Currently experiencing the former; the latter always seems to make me feel under attack, though I imagine delivery matters, and it was often not particularly pretty or kind in the past.  The idea that I'd be more acceptable if I fit someone else's criteria for acceptability, that I was deeply flawed and in need of saving.  Never pleasant to be on the receiving end of that.  The other side of enabling.

(People keep posting that thing about the violence of a caterpillar transforming into a butterfly, and how that is necessary and shouldn't be intervened upon; so the trick I guess, is finding the balance, figuring how to be supportive without interfering with a necessary growth experience of someone else, or letting them (or ourselves) deal with consequences, and knowing when it's necessary to intervene and that's helpful vs. when it's enabling.  Enabling is in my bones.  But I'm trying to reinvent myself, so that it's not the automatic response to quiet my own sense of panic or anxiety (and leaving me with little energy for my own life...and why am I choosing that outcome?  What am I not facing?)  In spite of what I've absorbed, perhaps it's not really my reason for being to save anyone. And I'm talking on the level of a parent interfering/intervening every time their kid is struggling, rather than letting them learn from the experience, and figure out how to solve the problem...which if they did, they would gain confidence and a sense of being able to take care of themself; I'm not referring to societal-level issues. I'm not turning my back, just not taking on everyone else's problems to my own detriment.  I want to know who I am, and what I want, outside of that.)

And I've been on both sides.  If it came to intervening to save someone's life, I'd do it again, but for everything else, I want to learn to support you without taking it on, and solving your problems.  As Marie says about tidying, it's not a skill we are taught, we're just expected to absorb it.

It's stifling in here.  I need to get some air.

The holiday is over

I'm waiting for the bats to arrive.  I'm waiting for a sunset, too, but the westward falling sun goes from orange to pink to a disappearing act behind the haze from distant fires.  The current acrobatic and erratic flight belongs to the swallows.

I came to the lake to read, to get out of the house.  Funny how 90 degrees with a breeze outside now feels downright pleasant after spending time in the attic; it's all relative, I suppose.  Sitting in the grass, I read one play (Mamet), and then began a second book.  Above the drone of constant traffic passing behind me, the laughter of people playing lawn games, and the squeals of happy children, I can make out a chirp.  Chirping.  In the grove of trees in front of me.  Osprey.  I learned the voice only recently, same location, perhaps a nest; no one dives for fish, they just continue to chirp.

The sun gets more brilliant behind me, so I go in search of a better view.  This is just before it disappears, going from a pink disk, to a rectangle peaking out between the clouds, to...nothing.  No sunset.  Just a grey and pale pink that linger in the sky for the next hour as the air around grows thicker.

Disappearing Act, July 5/L Herlevi 2015

I walked the lake in the morning, the dry grass littered with beer caps and the spent remains of last night's fireworks.  Now as the long holiday weekend comes to a close, a few people remain in the water, ducks tuck their heads back and rest.  Footsteps mark the sand, the remnants of earlier holiday traffic.  Fish jump near the shore, in the distance headlights break through the trees as cars wind their way around the park, heading home.  Small groups of crows fly overhead, heading to bed.  A lone man appears in the water, then suddenly swims, out to the buoy and back.  The swallows disappear, leaving a void in the sky, and still, no bats.

A swarm of gnats gathers above my head.  Soon I have my own personal column of insects.  They go up and up.  High above, a single plane flies west to east, a tail of light stretched out behind, catching the light of the sun I can't see, looking like a comet.  Then the sky is empty once more, silent, save Venus.  An hour later a second "star" appears: Jupiter.  The two now growing in distance since their earlier conjunction.

Personal gnat swarm, July 5/L Herlevi 2015

I switch benches, the swarm follows, or I gain another.  A couple stops, to my left, and stands gazing into the cedar grove.  Someone asks what they are looking at: two raccoons.  I turn to look, but don't see them.  Moments later I hear a growl and then a squeal, and turn back to see as the two chase one another around the base of a tree and then disappear.

The bats never arrive, and I finally leave when the insects start bouncing off of my face.  I go the long way home, no rush to arrive. A blue and orange glow overtakes the haze, engulfs the full dome of sky; luminous.  The planets increase in brightness, the only dance on view; no other stars, no moon, yet.  I pass by overgrown gardens, brown and wilting: everyone longing for water.

In the distance, the boom of another round of fireworks begins.  Closer to home, it's still too hot to sleep.

4th of July

Off to garden before it gets hot.

Happy 4th of July!

Friday

I'm basically turning into a slug from the heat.  Want to do nothing at all; not even think. We have a holiday today.  One forecast has Sunday at 97 degrees...we rarely get that hot in August.  (And there was local corn and tomatillos already at the farmer's market.  Early.  Didn't buy the latter, but the corn was delicious.)  Last night when I got home from work, my roommate's fan said it was 93 in her doorway, six hours later it'd only dropped one degree.  (I don't have a fan; and I think plugging anything else in might blow the fuse.  It's an old house.)  It's just after nine am now, slight coolness of a breeze, but in the 70's.  I'm trying to motivate myself to go plant something.  (Nope.)

Went to the park, did some writing in the shade until it disappeared.  People gathered around the kiddie pool waiting for it to open; when I passed by again, it was packed.  Tempting.  Walking home from the store, my barely touched fingers made valleys in the butter, even though I walked in the shade.  The neighbor's sprinkler hit me three times as I passed, by the time I opened the door I was already dry.

Think I'll try to motivate to go to a friend's show across town.  Maybe there will be air conditioning.  At any rate, I like her music.

Or not.  Apparently, I ate something evil.  Fun times.

Only 91.  The slightest breeze blowing through the window feels like grace.  Perhaps I am acclimating.  Just don't light any fires, plenty burning already.

Lined up and waiting, July 3/L Herlevi 2015