Why, Oh Why, have I been resisting writing journals these past few days. Two reasons really. Sometimes I just get plain tired and bored talking about myself. The second, when I roll out of bed in the mornings, my mind starts thinking and coding my dreams and letting free thoughts float to the surface. Some are often surprises, having been stuck back in the shadows for quite some time.
By the time I've packed the car, driven down Mesa to my running spot and finished, driven to the office, unloaded books and the day's lunch on my chair, I would guess a couple of jounal stories have been mentally written. Here are a couple of thoughts I've been meaning to mention.
When we were in Albuquerque, Karen watched me throw away a half smoked cigarette. "Why did you do that? she asked. "Isn't that expensive?" I rationalized to her that smoking half was better than smoking the whole thing. Besides, my pharmacognocist friend, Jerry, told me that the worst part of the nicotine and tar were in the last half of the cigarette. And, remember, Jerry is a PhD. He should know what he's talking about -- shouldn't he? Also, he smoked years ago when he was in the military. I really am running out of smoking excuses, aren't I?
A couple of weeks ago, I emailed Karen that I'd just tapped the computer "send" key and emailed a paper due for my quantitative class. She asked, "Were you please with it? Or, just glad to get it done?" Probably more the latter. As I get closer and closer to finishing the "programs" course work, I can't deny that I am getting mentally tired. Stoking up the energy to read and write is becoming more of a chore. Then, was I pleased with it? I'm truly never completely pleased with my writing as I think of the exercise as putting a puzzle together. Your've got ideas, you've done research, and there are all of these words that need to be put together to make a story. I take all of those words, toss them in the air and look at them, where they fell and then start picking up the pieces to fit them together. The thing is, you can do this a hundred times. Throw them in the air, watch them fall, reach down, pick up, and put them together again for the story. Only this time, it can be told a different way. The writer in me always wonders if there was a better way to tell it.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Sunday, March 04, 2007
On The Path To Wisdon....and Other Thought Fragments
The moon is too full this evening. It doesn't feel right. The "spirits" of the universe are distrubed. This is what I believe.
I really do pay attention to astrology -- what happens in the heavens -- the positioning and action between the planets and the stars does have bearing on our Earth and therefore, our lives. Also, I believe in my dreams. They tell me stories with their own signs and symbols. They create my private dream language. Most of the time I listen to what they are saying because I've learned to do so.
On windy days, like today, it's prudent to take notice. Messages are carried on the wind.
Vine Deloria, Jr. in "God Is Red (2003, p. 144) talks about Carl Jung's suggestion of the existence of the archetypes and symbols of the universal human experience found in a collective unconscious. As Jung studied human spiritual problems, he further suggested that the unconscious presented dreams to us, using these various symbols as stories, so we would be able to work through various psychological difficulties. Generally, stories do hold a lesson. Some are buried a little deeper than others.
Peter came by this afternoon for a visit. I've done a disservice to my sons as I protected them too much after Eric's death. I kept them children too long. Now I can see the mistakes of my ways but there was not too much I could do about it during the years of time past. As they grew to manhood, I was always there to help -- never letting them solve their own problems -- learn from their own mistakes that are the inevitabilities of a life. And, of course, this is the only way character and soul depth and internal strength are developed.
Recognizing what I'd done, this last peck of trouble Peter got himself into, I stood aside. And, oh, it has been so painful to watch him these past four years -- learning how to solve his own problems -- a process I should have allowed to begin years ago. Often I feared for his emotional health. But, he is finding his way through. He is getting his "game" back. And, most importantly, he is doing the work by himself. I will always be there as a safety net. I think everyone has to believe they have this fall back, even if it's never asked to be used.
Listening to him this afternoon I can tell that heh is different. It's apparent he has become a little wiser having learned from past mistakes. This is good.
A new month is beginning. March. My Cherokee calendar says this is the "Month of the Windy Moon." The featured "Herb" Wild Onions relieve dizzy spells, aid digestive process & lower blood pressure."
Love to Everyone.
Jody
I really do pay attention to astrology -- what happens in the heavens -- the positioning and action between the planets and the stars does have bearing on our Earth and therefore, our lives. Also, I believe in my dreams. They tell me stories with their own signs and symbols. They create my private dream language. Most of the time I listen to what they are saying because I've learned to do so.
On windy days, like today, it's prudent to take notice. Messages are carried on the wind.
Vine Deloria, Jr. in "God Is Red (2003, p. 144) talks about Carl Jung's suggestion of the existence of the archetypes and symbols of the universal human experience found in a collective unconscious. As Jung studied human spiritual problems, he further suggested that the unconscious presented dreams to us, using these various symbols as stories, so we would be able to work through various psychological difficulties. Generally, stories do hold a lesson. Some are buried a little deeper than others.
Peter came by this afternoon for a visit. I've done a disservice to my sons as I protected them too much after Eric's death. I kept them children too long. Now I can see the mistakes of my ways but there was not too much I could do about it during the years of time past. As they grew to manhood, I was always there to help -- never letting them solve their own problems -- learn from their own mistakes that are the inevitabilities of a life. And, of course, this is the only way character and soul depth and internal strength are developed.
Recognizing what I'd done, this last peck of trouble Peter got himself into, I stood aside. And, oh, it has been so painful to watch him these past four years -- learning how to solve his own problems -- a process I should have allowed to begin years ago. Often I feared for his emotional health. But, he is finding his way through. He is getting his "game" back. And, most importantly, he is doing the work by himself. I will always be there as a safety net. I think everyone has to believe they have this fall back, even if it's never asked to be used.
Listening to him this afternoon I can tell that heh is different. It's apparent he has become a little wiser having learned from past mistakes. This is good.
A new month is beginning. March. My Cherokee calendar says this is the "Month of the Windy Moon." The featured "Herb" Wild Onions relieve dizzy spells, aid digestive process & lower blood pressure."
Love to Everyone.
Jody
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