The First Day of Winter

Today is the first day of winter, also the shortest day of the year. Winter often reminds me of my mom.  She loved the beauty of the snow and ice—not actually getting around in it on the roads – but observing it, playing in it. Snow days off from school meant she didn’t clean anybody’s house either.  We would bake cookies, make snowmen, drink hot chocolate and make crafts. My mom never seemed to have a “breakdown” in the winter months. When it happened it was usually in the summer. Maybe the heat got to her head. We moved around a lot to little two room apartments. In the winter they provided safety, security and warmth. Even if the gas bill wasn’t paid they couldn’t cut your gas off when it was below zero many nights.  We were inside. During the summer our apartment was always hotter than it was outside on the humid sun-baked streets. One landlord accidently painted all our windows shut, so we had fans up around the house that just circulated the heat and cat hairs. It always felt like you were being cooked. Summer also brought out the roaches that we battled against and always lost. It is hard to relax your brain in the evening when you suddenly see quick movement around you, and my mom was already naturally nervous.  Heat and bugs, I used to believe that’s what caused it. Winter was nice. Everything clean and white, lights dancing and flickering on our little fake Charlie Brown Christmas tree that we dragged around with us from place to place.  Wherever she is now, if there is anywhere to be, I know it is chilly, with glistening snow, diamond cut jagged icicles hanging from trees and patterns of frost and snowflakes frozen to a window pane. 

On This Road

Coming back from dropping my son off at school I saw a duck, being followed by a lot of little yellow fuzzy baby ducks, trying to make their way down a busy street, they were cornered off parallel against the edge of the sidewalk, and with so many parents dropping off their kids in haste along the street , it is amazing they made it as far down as they did.  Then a crow approached. He kept jumping in three steps towards the babies and then then one step back, then three more in again. More crows were waiting in the tree above. A woman walking next to me screamed out "shoo shoo" to the crow--and it worked, at least for right then while we were present.
I started to stay, the regular real me would have stayed a little distance behind her, looking for crows, looking to stop traffic until I followed her to her destination, probably someones backyard with a pool or large birdbath....but I left, thinking about my lists, the dishes, the dirty clothes, all the clothes to still go through and hang back up in the closet, all my homework....as I my made my way farther and farther away, I kept looking back, realizing they were about to cross a busy intersection off a major street, if they even made it that far. I never saw them cross...God, let me stop worrying about these creatures and more importantly let them make it to their home safely. I know all of this is nature and death is a part of life, as well as suffering--but I saw them now, they have a face to me now, I felt her "mother's panic" as the crow kept getting in closer to her babies--let them make their way, have some peace--at least just for today.

Alive

Feeling alive again--is it the full moon approaching? They say that three days before the full moon is when people start responding to it and it keeps happening and then goes away again during the three days after the full moon-- at least that is what the Deputy told me who checks in inmates at the Long Beach jail, he used to be one of my regulars when I bartended. He retired, so I am sure he has no problem  with me sharing...maybe, but I doubt he will ever read my blog--anyway--
I feel great! I feel alive! I feel...happy....wow, can't believe I just said that out loud. Going to enjoy it while it lasts.

Into the Night

Had a dream I was on the city bus late at night and was able to access my facebook account by little silver switches that were made into each seat on the bus, if you turned and looked out the window you would see your facebook page, kind of shadowy, like a projection, on the window and by clicking on the silver switch at your hand you could navigate your way around. It was strange, but yet so convenient and so possible. The bus and the streets I casually noticed were full of people,even though I knew it was around two in the morning, all the people looked rough and angry and stressed, looking at the facebook screen was better... however it caused me to miss my stop, I got off in the next block , to my old "bachelor" apartment, which suddenly was pitch black and deserted-the long front walk way was covered in tree limbs and dirt and leaves, I couldn't make it through, then I remembered I didn't live there anyway. I started half walking half running through the dark, empty street to where I live now with my family, yet at the corner there was construction all around, only a few people worked, but like zombies as if I wasn't there--the concrete was all pulled up in every direction and everything was blocked off, there was no way turn anywhere to get to my home. It was dark, it was cold and I was scared. Then I woke up. Just now.
Not sure what it all means. At the lowest level it made me reflect on how facebook has broken my family and I often felt trapped and nowhere and alone because of it, which it has also done for most people-- which is why it is one of the leading causes of divorce now.  (I didn't make this up, it is a fact and on record with the court systems).
  It kind of made me briefly think of the family movie "Wall-E", if you have never seen it, check it out, a great movie regardless of your age. Just that whole thing of everyone having a screen in their face all day everyday, just that thing of how hard it is to made a human connection living this way.
 And more so it reminded me of this great, deep fear that I have been having that humanity is losing a real connection with one another, everything is cyber, everything is "thought and emotion lite", as a whole people are losing their depth and ability to grow within. And without that we have nothing. Nowhere to expand our minds too, nothing to fall back on.
I appreciate the benefits of the computer and Internet, because of facebook I have found my family that I lost over the years, I am in daily contact with them, and that feels good, however there is a line we cross of becoming addicted to it, of blocking out the family we have right next to us, of robbing ourselves of the chance for mental and spiritual growth and expansion by not just "being", whether that be daydreaming or reading....and a  book you can hold in your hand and read in a hammock or toss in the ocean or not care if you lose or loan out out, a book you can you can get in first edition and treasure, maybe one day meet the writer and have them sign it. Not a little  bright screen on a little handheld computer. And yet again, nothing wrong with that nifty gadget, but if a book is a classic or written by an author I really admire or something I know I will want to add to my collection in my bookcases-if it is a book of that nature, I don't want to scroll through the pages with my fingertip, never feeling paper under my skin, never being able to feel the weight in my hand of how much work they put into it. Something about scrolling through it makes it seem as meaningless and "lite" as an ehow article. And which again-ehow is (sometimes) great-but is informative, it serves a quick purpose, it is not a great work....
Long story short, I take heed to my dreams, personally I will watch how much time I spend on the computer in comparison to how much quality time I spend with my family. I will continue to watch as- for me- I see our culture turning into a mindless, functionless blob of non-thinkers and non-feelers. And all I have been saying the last few days off and on, of becoming more normal in a sense, scratch that, I like being odd and off, at least I am something, at least there are things churning in me, I am not just here following instruction and not having an internal thought, letting my brain turn to mush.

Chicken Noodle Soup

Taking care of my son while he is sick today. I have been making homemade Chicken Noodle Soup, went grocery shopping and stocked up on fruit juices, gingerale, cold medicine, Vicks Vapor rub and for the steamer, Kleenex with lotion for his red nose, stuff to make jello, popsicles and so on....one great memory I have of my mother is that when I was sick she really went into Supermom mode--my grandmother as well, if I had a high fever for more than a day I would often get a little unexpected surprise, such as glow in the dark crayons and black construction paper, paper dolls or a new book. My mother, with all of our ups and downs and fall outs over the years, always knew how to comfort me, she knew how to help soothe me as I healed..that was actually the only way I was spoiled growing up, even when I was older and lived on my own, if I got sick with the cold or the flu, she would stop by with soup, medicines, tea, etc. Taking care of Andrew sick reminds me of those days and that familiar touch of her hand, rubbing alcohol on my back to help break a fever, years later her fast, nervous quick knock at my apartment door, arms loaded with everything I needed to heal and possibly a good book to read.  I miss how much she knew my needs and how she knew instinctually how to respond to that-- she has always been the only person that could and I am sure ever will. I miss my mom right now, I wish I could see and feel her standing vigilant by my side at the times of my darkest hours....

On the Farm

Went on a field trip with my son to a farm and spent the day with the class, we went from the classroom to the bus to a guided tour to lunch to the bus and then  back to class right in time to leave, just like clockwork.  And along the way valuable information was presented to the students in an easy to understand and easy to follow method and at the right time to prepare them for the next step in the day.  The day started with a song, we then learned what it meant to be a polite farmer, which prepared us for conduct and what to expect on our day out, we learned about all the farm animals, touching and holding a few, we left with radish plants we started and knowledge of how to care for them so that in a few weeks we could add them to a salad with dinner.....it was all so easy, down to pulling up on the bus ten minutes before dismissal.... I wish I could go back to having that same simple way of life, like how they are taught things the first time--in detail, pulling out the most necessary and valid information as a foundation, as what is to be next-- I feel inspired to think about my daily pattern, such as how to start my day on a positive note, how to get the most out of everything going on around me, seize it, absorb it and make it mine--taking only what I need, only what will help build me, only what will make me stronger.

Bound

Received a beautiful gift today of a leather bound journal.  It was given to me in response to my previous post "A New Notebook", which was flattering because my post was read and flattering because someone believes in me enough to think I can pull this off. And I can. I have before. Unfortunately other times that I have mapped out my whole being, life and existence, I have either done so in notebooks filled with ideas and philosophies that I outgrew or on loose sheets of  paper, such as the back of receipts, blank Kino slips and bar napkins that were often separated, lost or worn into tiny unreadable shreds in the linings of old purses...which was handy, if I failed, if I stumbled, without my guide I could take the easy way back into me--heard someone talk of this exact thing today, he referred to it as taking the path of least resistance. My path of least resistance often involves much longing and or disappointment, with a cocktail or two thrown in to set the mood, and much regret.
Anyway, the ball is in my court so to speak. And I have been caught off guard as well, as I am living in a small patch of self-acceptance now, well at least the last couple of days...and that is even with some things of myself as to which I am not proud still floating around in my brain.  Also,as I say this I should clarify I don't get drunk or drink everyday-but-I am a regular drinker--who just happens to have not had a drink in a longer span of time than normal--so my thinking may be a little more sober and un-enhanced than normal--how this fits into the equation I do not know, it could go two ways--I could plan things out with much more clarity and control or I could swing to the opposite end and be so uptight I don't give myself room to blossom and put together something dull.  However, this book has many pages and I have much to uncover and discover over the next weeks, and especially with Fat Tuesday approaching, I know there will be days of sobriety and days of unwinding peppered throughout my journal and somewhere between the two I will find my truth.
This time will be different. This time I am being held more accountable than ever before, by myself and those I have chosen to place in my life. I have made some changes in my life this year, changes that I have already fallen short on. Yet, I have hope, I have faith, I have people in my life I respect that are counting on me to make the right choices and I have a lot of blank pages to be filled......