REPORT A PROBLEM
We were supposed to write about one of the prompts. They were:
"You can't take it with you."
"How killing is done."
"She thought she heard..."
I wrote about what it is like to have breasts. I had my own prompt: my best friend has cancer in her breast. I couldn't help it. I just had to have a tirade about breasts. Big, fat, uncomfortable, inconvenient mammary glands. When we're young, we die to have them. For a while, all the attention is fun. But in the end, we get tired of carrying them around, and often they betray us.
Eating has got me by the throat today. I mean I just can’t stop. It started as soon as I got up, two big bowls of Rice Krispies. Then we went shopping and they had these really good looking beef ribs. So I took them home and promptly cooked them, set the pan on top of the stove and started eating. I couldn’t stop. I ate about a pound of the things. Then I made a salami sandwich for my grandson and well, I just had to have a few slices. After that, the Rice Krispies started looking good again.
I was really worried when I stopped taking estrogen. I thought the hot flashes would come roaring back, and my sex drive would go away altogether. Yet that has not happened. Instead, I find the hot flashes aren’t as bad as they used to be, and my sex drive, while not overwhelming in its intensity, is alive and well. So all and all, there is no reason whatsoever for me to increase my risk of cancer by taking hormones. Which is pretty darn good news. Not to mention the money I’ll save, since the insurance never would pay for hormones.
I grew up thinking my family was about as messed up as a family could be. And I have to admit, I was wrong. My father never went through with his threat to shoot us all in our sleep. So there are definitely people who have it worse. And I’m not trying to minimize. My childhood was a nightmare. Maybe, though, I am waking up from that dream. Maybe it is time for a new dream. My parents did their worst, but they just aren’t in charge anymore. We’re the parents and grandparents now. We get to say what’s what.
Oh my God, my husband just dragged out “Hard Times” to watch on the DVD in the living room. It’s enough to send me to the other room to avoid having to see it again. I guess you’d have to say any movie with Charles Bronson in it has this effect on me. He had a tendency to make what I can only call “guy movies.” All braun, lots of conflict and fighting. Clear and obvious good guys and bad guys. Bare-chested, big-muscled men on the wrong side of the tracks. Tough as nails but with a heart of gold.
One hundred words is still down, and I’m at my wits end. What if I just write a hundred words every time I get an idea. Instead of waiting until the end of the day and going to the website and clicking on the date, and all of that. All of which I am used to doing. It’s become a regular habit. Like waking up with a cup of coffee and reading the paper, and doing the crossword puzzle, and taking a bath. And getting on the computer to check my emails. And watching the Daily Show and Steven Colbert.
I’m really clear that my purpose in life at this point is to help other people heal. This is the purpose when I do a Tarot Reading. It is the purpose when I give someone a Reiki treatment, and it’s the purpose when I counsel someone. In fact, these three modalities usually intertwine nicely. Still, I find I can’t stop writing and acting either. The acting is such an energizer for me. It really gets me focused and in action in a way that I thoroughly enjoy. I can’t imagine my life at all without writing as part of it.
So the dilemma is this. We create reality and then we pretend it wasn’t our idea. And when you try to tell people they have the power to create reality, that in fact, they are creating their own reality right now, they treat you like you’re really just a whack job. Your relationship with reality is clearly tenuous at best. You’re just a little too “woo woo,” my friend. Get your feet on the ground, face facts, get your head out of the clouds, come down to Earth. Well, why don’t you? Cut the happy horseshit and get real, dreamer!
What is the good I can do? For myself, I don’t have much left to prove. Oh, there is always some more karma to clear, but on the whole I have done what I personally came in to do. Now, I want only to be of service to others on this difficult journey called Life. How to use my gifts? Things that come naturally and easily to me, like writing, energy work, intuition and communication. The challenge now, in the autumn of this lifetime, is to turn these gifts into service. The remainder of my life should be a ministry.
‘Shit’, ‘piss’, ‘cunt’, ‘fuck’, ‘cocksucker’, ‘motherfucker’ and ‘tits’ - the seven words you can't say on television. Well you can't say them on the radio either. In addition, here in the berg where I reside, you can't say ‘ass’ or ‘for Christ's sake’. but you can say ‘suck’ - and ‘nigger’ is 50/50 maybe okay depending. Depending on what? I mean “nigger” has never been okay with me! But apparently it is okay with the people around here. Which totally offends me. They’re good with “nigger” but not with “tits.” What a bunch of white hypocrites. Oh shut your potty mouth.
What a month this has been. This month, my best friend found out she has breast cancer. She hadn't been checking herself for a while, and then one day she noticed this lump, so she went to the doctor. The biopsy was positive for an aggressive form of cancer, and worse yet, it is in her lymph node as well. The tumor is 7 centimeters across, which is a big tumor, and it's growing into the muscle wall. Right now, they would have to take more than half of her breast to get it out if they did a lumpectomy.
But the odds are they won't do a lumpectomy. The odds are they will do a mastectomy. The odds are she will lose at least one of her breasts. Surely it is preferable to dying from cancer when it spreads to the rest of her body. No contest. And what exactly happens to your body image then? When you lose major body parts? When I lost part of my colon, nobody could see that, except for the very long scar. And the surgery tore up my body in ways it never recovered from. But losing a breast? What's that like?
I wrote a new script. Just a four minute scene for my writing class. I thought it was mediocre, but it was all I had, so I asked Tom, Paul and Vicky to perform it. It was amazing what a difference three good actors can make. It was really more interesting when they performed it than it seemed to me when I wrote it. Tom played the man who confronts the stranger who he thinks has stolen something from him. It was as if he knew exactly how I had intended those lines to be said. It was really amazing.
Today my niece Allyson said she was glad I had found her on Facebook. We were so worried she would send us all away. We were afraid she wouldn’t want a relationship with us. All those years her mother kept her from us. We were afraid. But today she told me she wants to know us. Said she wants to connect with her Dad. I sent her pictures and she said she cried from joy just looking at them. It’s a little overwhelming, but in such a good way. A grand way. I love my family today. The karma shifted.
The new Star Trek movie is excellent in several ways. First of all, they succeeded in reviving the original cast of the TV series. In and of itself, this was spectacular. Each of the original seven characters is completely believable and consistent with the originals. So to begin with, it is really Star Trek. In addition, they updated it with all the amazing computer-generated graphics of today's technology. The story is fast-paced, with lots of action, like the movies of today, but it is the Enterprise nonetheless. The bridge has been updated, but the seating arrangement is unchanged.
I'm really thrilled about my new car. It's what you'd call a modest car model, a Toyota Yaris. It's small and light weight, but it has the right options, and the gas mileage is great. So far it looks like thirty five miles per gallon in town. Who knows how many miles to the gallon it will get on the highway. The best part of the little new car is how perfectly it fits me. It's easy for me to drive. And it's almost as much fun as my Grand Am was. Boy that was a long time ago. Remember?
Got back to the potter's guild today. It's been several months. Last time I was in, we were making bowls for Chili Feed, our annual fundraiser. I haven't made anything for myself since early in the Fall. It felt good to sit down at the wheel. Better yet was to find out I haven't forgotten how to do it. I think I threw my best bowl yet today. I made five attempts. Three of them collapsed, one way or another. But two of them survived my bungling. The red bowl in particular is a lovely shape. I do enjoy mud.
All this fussing and carrying on. Just because I slept away most of the day yesterday. Oh, and there was that little episode of hallucinating at the theater in Cheney. Well it didn't bother me. Quite the contrary. I found it very entertaining. It felt more like an advantage than a defect on the part of my brain. I like it when the walls breathe back at me. It occurs to me as so very lively. Yes, that's it: lively. I'll let you know if it happens again. And when they start talking. And what they say. Particularly about you.
There has to be a way to eat and lose weight that doesn't involve completely changing my entire lifestyle. Some way has to exist for me to continue to take care of myself as a polio survivor, moderating my energy output, resting my muscles, pacing myself, conserving my energy and all that. But I also need to eat to stay healthy, not starve myself. And there is no doubt that to be healthy I need to lose some weight. So how do you do all that at the same time? There has got to be a way. Or maybe not.
So that's it then. No classes this summer. Rehearsals for the Fall show start in August, I'm gone two weeks in July. Then there's the annual two week visit from the grandchildren, and a week at Burning Man. Add to that Richard wants to take a trip to Southern Cal to visit everybody down that way. And basically, I'm looking at a pretty busy Summer. And that's without even mentioning that what I want to accomplish this Summer is to get the first draft of my book written. I can't imagine complicating this mix with classes. I'm busy enough already.
Who is that in the mirror? Who is that old woman? She's old and plump. No resemblance to me. With that double chin. She has bags under her eyes. Does she need more sleep? Her hair is gray. My hair is shiny brown. It glints red in the sun. And my skin in pink and wrinkle free. And I'm thin. Yes, that's right, that's me. But who is that I see in the mirror? It can't be me. I know very well what I look like. There's something wrong with this glass. Or maybe it's the light. Something's not right.
Oh go away then.
I don't care a bit.
Just get out of here.
Get out of my sight.
That's right. Take a hike.
Make yourself scarce.
You're using up my precious light.
Get lost. Hit the road.
Don't let the grass grow between your toes.
Don't darken my door,
don't sit on my chair,
don't stand in my window.
Stop breathing my air.
Can't you see you're in the way?
Just call it a day.
Make tracks in the snow.
Just blow blow blow.
Hitch a ride. Fly a kite.
Walk away into the night.
Just get lost.
When we were done with the head shots for my acting resume, we took some Reiki Master pictures with my hands as the main subject, and then it was time for cheesecake. Pictures for my husband. Since he is a devoted breast man, and what man isn't?, I took off my shirt. At this point, Andrew found a window to look out of, K. brought out the sheepskin and my daughter fussed with my bra straps. When my cleavage was just right, K. got me posed in a painful position and I smiled. Then we remembered the fedora. Oh yeah.
Today was all about reading on the radio. I have no idea how many people listened. Two of my friends let me know they liked the show, but with radio you don't know how many people are actually listening. Unless it's a talk show, and even then you only hear from the ones who call. I read a story called "A Clean Kill," which is about a man who shoots his estranged wife. Richard read after me, so it was the Rose and Richard show. I also read two poems, "After The Gleaning" and "A First Kiss." It was good.
Spokane lately has the look of a place that is struggling to hold itself together. There are so many old and falling down rotting brick buildings downtown, but there isn't the feeling of history seeping from the old bricks. No, just age and disregard. Old buildings that look like they should really be torn down. At night the streets are too dark, and too deserted. There isn't much in the way of energy on the streets. The street people pretty much have it. Even when you have someplace to go, you just don't feel comfortable.
How did I get behind again? It is a challenge to maintain a daily practice of any kind, and getting behind on my words is just a reminder of how difficult it is. My other daily practice is my Reiki Daily Healing List. I miss that sometimes too. I get traveling and visiting, and not being at home in my normal environment, and routine goes out the window. I forget to brush my teeth, so it should be no surprise that I forget other things as well, like meditation and sending healing energy to people. And writing my damn words.
My grandson is getting smarter and smarter. It's almost scary with this kid. He's so clever, and he's not six yet. He has true wit and real insight. Oh it's not that "from the mouths of babes" business, where we are all so astounded when a child says something brilliant. No. This is the real thing. He's intelligent. The one thing that can throw him into a downcast mood in an instant, is to be treated like a dumb little kid who doesn't know what he's doing. I mean it really sets him off. Or it brings him to tears.
We're sitting in the sun with Mt. Rainier snow-capped to the east and it's shining in the sunshine too, not a cloud in sight. Aaron's in his red baseball uniform, waiting for the coach to put him in the game. The kids in blue are at bat. Tre's playing on the slide behind me, and Richard's wearing his yellow Yellowstone hat to protect his balding head from the rays. The sky is the most gorgeous blue. Three feet from the backboard behind home plate is the perfect spot to watch the game. In the park the army base built.
Took Tre to the Zoo at Point Defiance. Before we got there, he acted like it would all be a big bore for him. Ho hum. No big deal. Then within seconds of our arrival, he was studying the map and determining the best possible route so we could see EVERYTHING in the shortest possible time. From then on, he ran from exhibit to exhibit. He was especially fond of the Beluga Whale, the Polar Bear and the Sharks. Unfortunately, it was a hot day, uncommonly hot for Tigers. They were hiding out in the shade somewhere in their enclosure.
Two little league games, a double header. The blue team against the red team, and the purple team against the red team. We, the red team, won one and lost one. First we got soundly stomped by the purple team. Then the blue team gave us a good game, with the score going back and forth, back and forth. Kids making good hits, and even better, kids making good fielding plays. But in the end, we pulled ahead and they couldn't stop us. We won. We won. We won the game! Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! And then we all ate pizza.
Took the long way home. When your shortest distance is 350 miles, taking the long way is a decision of some import. I'd been looking at that mountain for several days, and I just had to get closer, so we took Chinook Pass, and swung around close to Mt. Rainier. Tre fell asleep and then was grumpy when we woke him, so he didn't get to enjoy the view. We dropped over the other side and down into Yakima, and then up through the canyon to Ellensburg, where we caught I-90 home. The sun was our friend all day.
The Tip Jar