Found this site off museumfreak's de.lic.ious feeds. Joined up.
Carlos has been doing this for awhile! Some of his most popular "wants" - "Drink more water" (shared by 3726 people) and "Learn to cook" (shared by 1701 people). His blog, FastJoe.com, is fun. :-)
There's a lot of good (sad/inspirational) stuff in Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, especially as "performed" in the audiobook read by Judith Ivey.
Sprinkled with quotes of others' wisdom, such as St. Teresa: Saint Theresa said, "...words lead to deeds...They prepare the soul, make it ready, and move it to tenderness"; and Thomas Merton: ""We must make the choices that enable us to fulfill the deepest capacities of our real selves” (not the one quoted, but I like it anyway). The one referenced had something to do with civil war, and reflections of the character Siddalee on her own internal "civil war" between her "white mother" and the "black one" - something about the fear of being held in want of familiar love vs the fear of running through the fog searching for love...
Rescued from the pit of projective punishment! (It would be funnier to say "projectile" but the tense isn't accurate in this case. grin)
My roommate/landlord has agreed to a trial period of cohabitation as long as the cat remains generally confined to my room. Will my historic allergies explode? More to the point, will I implode - again :-( - under the pressures of circumstance? No. Done with that. Done with denial, too. At least, doing my best to be. :-/
Was encouraged to continue to embrace the sadness when I feel it AND stay open - that's the tricky part, isn't it? "Can I soften to love with full knowledge of the suffering I welcome in?" From Divine Secrets of the YaYa Sisterhood.
My horrorscope from 12 January (brother's birthday!), read during museumfreak's visit seemed to set the tone for this month: see Taurus. (And then this week's tells me to slow down. More waiting?
Mass MOCA is awesome! I'm really glad museumfreak wanted to go, cuz it got me off my duff and actually there. I want to go back when the Amusement Park opens - we got to see the installation in progress. An updated version will be completed in June including visitor's comments. Becoming Animal has some cool elements (some are weird), my favorite single piece was Pseudanuran Gigantica by Brian Conley. The entire QM, I think I call her QM multimedia collection by Ann-Sofi-Sidén requires a second visit.
This advice is given to one of the spouses in Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer.
The book is both hilarious and intense. It captures an eastern European sensibility shaped by globalization and the Holocaust. At one point, I felt I could grasp - albeit momentarily - what the Holocaust did to a generation (or three) of people in Europe in terms of a moral/ethical fallout.
"He was a good man, who lived in a bad time."
The review I linked to regarding Everything is Illuminated describes one of the author's themes as "the saving power of love, and particularly of love as expressed in acts of remembering -- and writing."
It captures what I hope I am doing with a couple of personal writing projects as well as (surprise surprise!) this blog.
Or, the occult, meaning "hidden" or blocked from view. In terms of relationships, this is captured in the contemporary philosophical notion of intersubjectivity.
Mugwort (artemisia) can be used for strength, power, prophecy and healing (from The basis of magic in Harry Potter. Lest you distrust the source, Wikipedia agrees: "Mugwort was used from ancient times as a remedy against fatigue and to protect travellers against evil spirits and wild animals."
Mugwort is also known as common wormwood and has many wormwood relatives. Wormword has been used symbolically to denote bitter characters or realities, such as in The Light of Other Days, which I listened to on tape and continue to mull.
I've received a certain piece of advice regarding a certain situation consistently for the past several months (well, the last year plus, and if one wants to get really picky, the last eight years). "Wait."
In my faster-than-light personal growth process (don't I wish: *sigh*), I've been tuning in to the moments and events that spark a desire to hurry. I had a crucial half-hour with Jesus Evil Kachina (a quasi!?! code name, in case you haven't guessed, Spanish pronounciation) in which it was ALL I could do not to explode with impatience. There was no reason for me to be in such a rush; but I felt it so deeply it hurt. Sitting that out calmly was a biggie.
I can recall way too many instances where I wanted to already be somewhere, or already engaged in doing something....that, or I was trapped by something in the past I couldn't quite let go. Either way, I've often not been "in" the present as much as I thought at the time.
I carried this fortune (from lunch with Hunju and LB the day before I left) with me the entire trip. In fact, the weather was incredibly mild. Between Buffalo and Albany yesterday afternoon there was rain, ranging from drizzle to downpour, with a brief period of actual hail but otherwise, no inclement weather whatsover. I thought it a nice symmetry that I drove through rain in NY both going and coming back.
I got out of Columbus a lot earlier than I'd expected, but I woke up unexpectedly eager to get on the road. Nothing for it, I guess, than to face the future that awaits. I finished listening to Other People's Children, which didn't plunge me into as much purging as I'd anticipated. The characters weren't so recognizable to me (or maybe I resist identification and accusation?), although I painfully recognized the theme of "separateness, and the heartbreak and diligence it takes to mold that into the togetherness of a family."
According to Little Brother, whatever one is doing on New Year's Eve is what one will spend a lot of time doing for the next year. I was with friends, remembering the past, watching children play. Not bad!
On New Year's Day, I started the drive back east. I had a feeling the return trip would be harder than the outbound...the Korean acupuncturist kept emphasizing my tendency toward melancholy, because I'm "so sensitive." I'm feeling it. My friends saw it too, thinking I looked tired. Not physically, no, but emotionally and spiritually. "It shows." I know. But I think it's temporary, fallout from the return to family (after 13 years no less) and the stark evidence of socialization. There's no doubt where my "stuff" originates. :-/
Frances and Kathy regaled me with memories last night, camping trips, this person and that, who's doing what now, who's with who now, who's had a baby. They're still in touch with all the "groups" of my former life - a circle from college, UPS and other people associated with work, and the social crowd. It seems fitting to end my trip with these reminescences. Those were the people who knew me when I was brash and completely unaware that emotions were a figural part of human existence.
We hailed in the New Year on New York time - 11 pm here in Kansas City, fooling the kids who went berserk in a neighbor's front yard with poppers and pot lids, then toilet papered Frances' son's truck. "Payback", I heard, for a few parties when Robbie and his pals woke them up with partying.
It's been a trip driving around, vaguely recalling places from high school, how familiar this place feels and yet so distant in actual memory. Of course, there are specific events and conversations that come to mind, as well as subtle drifts of visceral memory - how I felt during this time of my life, with various folk, about certain situations. Wild.
