Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Terminal Velocity

Pondering Terminal Velocity: As the Object accelerates (usually downwards due to gravity), the drag force acting on the object increases, causing the acceleration to decrease. At a particular speed, the drag force produced will equal the object's weight. At this point, the object ceases to accelerate and continues falling at a constant speed called Terminal Velocity.

    A chance conversation on Terminal Velocity set my mind to wandering abstract pathways once again. It is a familiar network of trails, these abstract passageways, familiar and yet always new, interesting, twisting, convoluted, and without a clear destination. I think that is what makes my mental meanderings all the more fun, I never know exactly where I will end up. It is always a surprise. Usually pleasant, sometimes not so much. But nearly always enlightening. So, a chance conversation, a mentioned formula, a concept. You may ask, where did my mind take the scientific formula? Where did my less than scientific Brain go with the interesting concept of Terminal Velocity? Brain rolled it around, played with the idea, took it from solid science to the soft science of psychology, and from there to the absolutely unscientific comparison to Life, the pursuit of Happiness, the chasing of Dreams.
    Some may not see how I could move from point A, to B to C. But I am all to capable of taking great leaps in my thinking, seeing odd parallels, similarities, connections. In this particular case I liken Terminal Velocity to the rate at which I am hurtling through life right now. It all started so slowly, as if there was entirely too much drag, and not enough gravity. My life felt as if everything moved in slow motion, through a substrate that was viscous and refused to relinquish its cloying hold to allow me to freefall. But slowly, as if shedding that viscosity bit by bit, my rate of movement has increased incrementally over time. Movement through Life, from struggling and sluggish, to active and accelerating. I feel I have stepped out of the plane and bit by bit, as Body and Brain shed excess, cumbersome constraints, I am gathering speed. As the detritus of Life peels off, bit by bit, it is whisked into the stratosphere, away from me, and into oblivion, I am becoming streamlined and sleek. As Drag is reduced, Acceleration increases. Less Drag = Higher Speed. I feel as if my life has become a beautiful, invigorating, intoxicating, enticing, exhausting, exhilarating Freefall. I am plunging through the upper atmosphere, wind speed a palpable force pressing into me, whipping me, blasting me, making every nerve zing with life.
    I do not know yet if Life is the atmosphere or gravity. Either way, I know I am plunging through my days with heady speed. Life is propelling me along, faster, ever faster. I tell myself that maybe I should spread my arms, take the wide, belly first position of the skydiver to increase drag and slow my fall. But I can't. I am delighting in the flight, the increased speed. I keep my arms tight to my sides, legs together, toes pointed, facing towards the Earth as her forces pull me in. It is exhausting, this Freefall, this long plunge through Life. Exhausting, frightening, alarming, and yet delirious, fantastical, beyond imagination. I am sleek, aerodynamic. My speed accelerates. I know I should slow my descent, but all I can think is, "faster, faster." I want to move beyond standard Terminal Velocity. I want to set records. I want the exultation, the delirium, the joy of a Life pushed to the limit. It is frightening, nerve wracking, exhausting, but worth every moment. What is Life without risk, without excitement, without daring to push the limits? What is Life without trying to reach Terminal Velocity?

Monday, July 30, 2012

To Sleep, Intertwined

To rest, to sleep, intertwined like pieces of an abstract puzzle.
The peace of two calm bodies, connected and relaxed.
The power that flows between the contact of warm flesh, restorative, restful, reassuring.
This connection, filling the void, curing the ache of loneliness, over-riding the strange aloneness that has plagued me for what has seemed an eternity.
A connection deep and drowsy, familiar and calming, quieting my inner demons, sending them far afield, banished, near forgotten.
A sanctuary, needed, desired, beloved, craved.
To rest, to sleep intertwined a curative to my heart and soul, my spirit renewed.
Pieces of an abstract puzzle, to be found, fitted, connected.
Seeking the piece that not only appears to fit, but snaps into place completely.
Seeking the piece of my puzzle.

Friday, July 27, 2012

Happy Ramblings

    I firmly believe that we make our own happiness. Yes, I do understand that life tends to be waiting to toss random shit my way, knocking me down a notch, tripping me up, slapping the back of my head when I'm not looking, derailing many of my efforts. I know this all too well. But I still know that my happiness is my responsibility and mine alone. I am not talking about burying my head in the sand to avoid the stress, hostility, negativity that seems to be all around, more like building a defensive force field to minimize the impact. This force field falters frequently, and I get hit with the full phaser blast of shitstorm square in the chest, stunning Body and sending Brain into an apoplectic seizure. But I know that when this happens it is up to me, and no one else to perpetrate a remedy.
    Being happy is not always a matter of fighting back from the full-on shitstorm blast, but is also preemptive, self perpetuating, and can be nurtured and harvested if tended to appropriately. I know many people, and yes I can fall into this category, who look to others for their happiness. Who assume that they cannot be happy without the Fates and Powers That Be steering fulfillment their way. I choose to seek out the bare essential ingredients and then build my happiness from scratch. I have realized that this pertains to surroundings as well as relationships. Start with the basics and build. Happiness takes a certain amount of effort. I know many people will argue that fact, and in the brief, spur of the moment hilarity kind of happiness, that is true. But I am talking deep contentment, inner peace, stability, solid relationships. These are key to having a level of happiness that transcends jocularity.
    Yes, I love a good belly laugh as much as the next guy. Laughing til you almost pee is fun on a whole new level. But I am building a life that makes me happy, gives me that solid foundation I need when Brain short circuits and sends me spiraling out of control. I have been lacking a foundation for so long, that I find I am already feeling more at ease with the inevitable winter darkness than I have in years. Oh sure, I know I will have days of holing up in my little house and ignoring the world as best I can, but I am feeling less troubled about the severity of my episodes. I owe this to a new found feeling of security in nearly every level of life. Sure, my job still leaves much to be desired, but I have several pots simmering with potential and am just waiting for the full boil. True, I still live alone, but my aloneness is being alleviated regularly and delightfully, so the long lonely nights have become much a thing of the past. It has been a long while since my inner Demons have had a chance to harangue me in the night. I am building strong, solid, loving relationships on several fronts; sisters, brothers, friends.
     This is what I mean by being responsible for my own happiness. Yes, there are loving people who are there for me and adding to my sense of security and contentment. Yes, my home life is feeling stable. Yes, financial changes are in the air. True, these are outside forces, but they are in my life because of choices I have made, steps I have taken. I chose to open my heart to people who now love me. I have made a concerted effort to not let past events color my abilities to find happiness, build loving relationships, seek contentment. And I am succeeding. I am happy. I am content. I Love my Life.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Crowing. Just A Little.

    Is it inappropriate for me to crow about myself? Just a little? I guess this is my blog and I can write what I want, when I want to. Correct? Yes, so say I. My exultation is in myself, particularly, my Body. Body has done me right these last six months or so, stepping up and carrying Brain and Spirit through fire, flood, war and pestilence. Body has borne the load, and done so splendidly. And now, I look in the mirror and see Body as I have not seen in 30 years. 165lbs and fit, I am slimmer and more toned than at any given point in my life. My hips are no longer wider than my shoulders, my stomach is flat and corded with steel. Yes, there is still that bit of softness down below my bellybutton that proves I am female and the mother of two. My shoulders are broad and square, my arms slender and defined, my legs are sexier than they have ever been. And my ass? Damn, girlfriend, my ass is so fine it even gets bitten now and then. Yes, I am resisting the urge to put the smiley face emoticon there. Seriously though, for the first time in my life I am rockin' the Speedo in a size 10. Yeah, 10. Sure, jeans are a size 12, but I am far more likely to be seen in a miniskirt these days, even on the Harley. And I gotta say, miniskirt, belted leather jacket, on a Harley? Fuck yeah. Yeah, it's like that.
    Yes, my ego is beginning to feel healed, and cocky even. An ego that has suffered for too long. Too long feeling inadequate, unwanted, unworthy. Now, wanted, needed, appreciated, understood. For far too long have I felt that I could and should be more, do more with my body. Long have I felt I was wasting this gift from the gods. To be gifted with a tall, strong, athletic build and not strive towards fitness, speed, strength, agility, could be a sin against nature. I finally feel as if I am treating my body as the true temple that it is. And through this temple I am also tending Brain and Spirit with all the care, nurturing, protection, reverence and awe that they deserve. For that is what it is truly about, treating the Whole of Me with the awe and reverence due to a true gift. Are not all bodies amazing and awe inspiring? Even flawed as we all are, the whole of what makes each of us unique is wonderfully and perfectly imperfect. We are all gifts from the Powers That Be. Gifts that should not be undervalued or squandered. I love Body, Brain and Spirit and vow to cherish what I have been given.

Monday, July 23, 2012

The Fair Bean

    It would seem that the stars are finally aligning for me and mine. So many dark hours of  struggle, failure, disappointment. But through it all there was perseverance, dedication to dreams and the warmth of hope and love. Yes, this is sounding a bit mushier than my normal ramblings, but there is a reason for that. The Reason? We call him The Bean. Who, or what is The Bean, you may well ask? That is the nickname of my soon to arrive, first grandchild. A name chosen as an alternative to the generic "the baby," "the fetus," or whatever you may want to call an active, rapidly growing, unborn child when you have yet to decide upon a name. Yes, a name has been selected, but I will not spoil the surprise or steal the thunder of the expectant parents. That would be rude. But I will say, the meaning of the chosen name is, "Fair." My grandson. My Fair Grandson. The continuation of love, hope and dreams. Upon the shoulders of this yet to appear, fair, wee lad is the distinction of being the first grandchild, first great-grandchild, and first great-great-grandchild. The excitement of his arrival buzzes about me like a low level electrical current that raises the hairs on my arms and leaves behind an exciting zest with just a whiff of ozone. The Bean, a cherished child yet to appear but already loved and surrounded by love. Tears sting my eyes, tears of absolute joy, when I dream of the moment I will first lay eyes upon his wrinkled, red, squinched up face. I know that I will behold the most beautiful creation ever placed upon this earth, with the exception of that precious moment of seeing my own sons for the first time. The renewal of life, hope bursting forth, epic change. I envy my son and daughter-in-law their bliss and joy, but I feel it too. My heart has been straining to near bursting with the pent up excitement, love, anticipation, joy. All negativity fades from my reality as I ponder the imminent arrival of The Bean. There have been many moments when I dance, shiver, and nearly squeal with delight that has to be released or I know my heart will erupt through my chest. I am counting days. Waiting The Call. Knowing that soon, very soon, The Bean will be among us sharing bliss and joy. Now, it is down to waiting. Waiting. Waiting for The Fair Bean.

Thursday, July 19, 2012


    I feel as if I am living Life in a dream state. Day to day, week after week, month upon month, I move through my life feeling the surrealism of dreaming and dreams becoming realized. Life is carrying me along a course that is chosen and yet has the feeling of fate, destiny, a power greater than my own simple dreams. I know my hand is on the rudder, that I am the mistress of my course, and yet I am still being pushed ahead by the inexorable forces of wind and wave. Have I finally found the current that takes me in the direction that I need, want, desire? Can I finally stop tacking against the might of ocean and gale, making little headway and barely managing to stay the course, stay afloat? It seems as if this would be the case. Maybe my jubilation is premature, but even just a few weeks of a Life Less Resistant is a glorious, uplifting, radiant respite. Even if the current shifts and an ill wind blows I will at least feel rested and know that I have moved further along my chosen course. I know better than to become accustomed to the ease in which I am plowing through the water, wind whipping my hair, waves high and foam crested bumping me and pressing me forward. I know better than to feel complacent, for as soon as I relinquish my firm hand on the tiller, or take my eyes from the taut, snapping sail, I am likely to capsize and flounder. The forces driving my ship are too powerful to ignore, or underestimate.
    Yes, I am moving ahead, but it is truly no easy task. I am tired. My muscles ache. When I finally manage to collapse into my bed I sleep the hard sleep of the exhausted. Dawn comes too early, and I rise still tired, but ready to face the day's new challenges, tasks and adventures. In true fashion of the overworked, though I am tired, my body is rising to the challenge becoming slim, firm, strong, capable, tough. I am learning just how far I can push myself without pushing myself over the brink. I hope. And yet I feel as if I can push harder, give more, handle the power, manage the aches and pains, dash forward, ride the tsunami that builds power beneath my hull.
    So as my dreams become realities, as I captain the ship that propels me toward new dreams, dreams soon to be realized, I feel Life slipping around me with the softness of tropical breezes tinted with hibiscus and hurricane. My Dream Ship plows ahead, responsive to my guiding hand, but with an uncanny sense of direction. Am I Captain or Captive? Does it matter? I am moving ahead, making challenges, meeting challenges, dreaming, living a dream, realizing my dreams. Does it really matter who or what is guiding this Dream Ship of mine? I chose to believe it is my hand guiding my Fate, my Life, but with the beautiful aid of a power greater than any we may ever understand. The Power of Dreams. The Power of Belief. The Power of  Belief in My Dreams. It is a Power within us all, we just may have to wait for the winds and currents of change to make headway.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

My Luck Dam

    For the last few years, okay, more like the last decade, I have felt like I was straining, fighting, pushing, struggling to just make a step forward, one step towards any given goal. My path was blocked, detoured, laden with bogs, quicksand, pitfalls. So much energy was expended every single day just so I could feel the slightest sense of accomplishment when my head hit the pillow at night. A good friend told me I was overdue "for the Luck Dam to break." And it seemed like a solid truth. Life thwarted so many of my attempts to move ahead, progress, reach tangible goals. When life finally started to give an inch, it felt as if it took a mile, a pound of flesh, blood in blood out. My first successes on some fronts were countered by abject failure on others. I would have to force myself to try and see with unbiased eyes the progress I had made, without seeing the devastation that seemed to swirl around me. I tried to see that the storm clouds that followed me everywhere were also watering the seeds of change. This is not an easy slight of hand to perpetuate over a period of months. And gullible and naive as I am, it was still no easy task to keep convincing myself of my own bullshit.
    But, all that being said, suddenly it feels as if my friend was right, I was long overdue for the Luck Dam to break. It feels as if it finally has. Yes, with the agony of birthing pains, and now with an overwhelming, near to overpowering rush of changes. Floodwaters unleashed, frothing, foaming, scouring the countryside, purging the old, leaving behind the new, unstoppable, unconfined, a raging force of nature not to be denied. So much happening, so many changes. Now instead of me struggling to push my life forward, it is racing ahead with breakneck speed and I feel I am sprinting just to stay abreast of my day to day existence. As exhausting as forcing life was, this is even more so, but exhilarating and satisfying. Life rushes forward at flood stage, spilling over the banks, lapping at my feet, filling Brain with ideas, Body with energy, and Spirit with power. The Luck Dam, burst forth in an unstoppable flow. I feel finally unchained, unfettered, riding the rapids. My life stretches before me, full of potential, possibilities, challenges, and I want it all. I want the flood to fill me to overflowing with desire, passion, hunger, drive. My Luck Dam, now lying in rick rack piles as Luck and Life pour over the debris with the power of a millrace. The Luck Dam has burst, and with it my life flows forward.

Monday, July 16, 2012

This, My New Reality

    I have really been putting some consideration into where I am now, today, in This Reality, compared to where I was one year ago, in what now seems like an entirely different existence, an altered reality, a skewed perception. I can go back and read my floundering, infantile blogs from last year and read between my own lines to see the aching loneliness, and yet the restraint of my writing as I endeavored to not expose too much of my own feelings of hurt, betrayal and pending loss. I can go back in time, via my own writings and feel as if at the time I was predicting my own future. Before I had any idea of the events that would unfold, I can see now that in my heart of hearts I knew it was coming with the inevitability of a sunrise. Did I set things into motion subconsciously? Or did I just see with my minds eye farther up the path on which I had set my feet?
    I do like to think that despite the breakdown that incurred, the denial, the failed attempts at fixing what could and should never be fixed, that I was the mistress of my own destiny. That I chose this path, knowing that I would walk through fire, be beaten to the ground over and over, fall deep into a dark abyss, fight demons, weep, rage, rant, despair, hate, fight, and yes, even fall prey to self flagellation far too many times. Go through all this and emerge triumphant. I chose this path several years ago, in fact, with a simple ultimatum. To myself more than anything. An ultimatum that if I did not like where I was, who I was with, where I was going, or not going, then I had to be the one to take steps to change my reality. No one else was going to do it for me. It was all on me. Me. Body, Brain, Spirit: My own Sacred Trinity that I knew I had to be faithful to above and beyond anything or anyone. I had to take steps to pull myself away from a path I had allowed myself to be led, a path of deceit, pain, humiliation, betrayal, degradation, and misguided love. But I knew that within each of us, and most important, within myself, was the Power to Change. The power to alter my own reality. To bend it, shape it, meld components, build my dreams with caring hands, hard work, blood, sweat and tears. An ocean of tears, a vast ocean. But I held the course. Despite the raging inferno that seared me to the bone, leaving raw nerve endings and vast tracts of scar tissue. Despite the painful trek through hellish landscapes, descending and ascending cliffs of sheer terror, at times feeling like the best thing would be to just lay down and give in to despair and abject misery, despite it all I survived. Not only survived, but came through with the energy and exhilaration of Baptismal by Fire.
     Now, today, in this, my new reality, I look around with a sense of awe at the changes I have wrought with my two hands. Changes that came about because I was willing to take that first deliberate step onto a path I knew would change me irrevocably for better or worse. There was no certain outcome. At times I did not think I would survive with my delicate psyche undamaged, I nearly shattered so many times I lost count. And I continued to make choices, taking deliberate steps towards dreams, choosing my destiny, finding new spirits along the way to walk beside me. Now, today, in this, My New Reality, the world is once again my playground, an open field of opportunity, exciting paths leading in so many directions, and all open to Me. And I know I can chose more than one path. I do not have to limit myself in this, My New Reality, to any one given path. I also know that the choice is mine, to move freely, unhindered by doubt or doubters. I feel like I have truly stepped into an entirely new, exciting, wondrous, glorious Reality.

Friday, July 13, 2012

Soft, Gooey Center

    I do find it funny that even when I am feeling my strongest, toughest, and most resilient physically, I am still quite capable of crumbling like a sand sculpture beneath children's feet. I wish this weren't the case. Truly. I wish my inner workings were as impervious to pain and breakage as my exterior. But that is indeed why I work so hard to keep the exterior strong. Some have said I am obsessive, compulsive and neurotic about my workouts. They may be right. Some question the sanity of the way I am inclined to push myself to the point of exhaustion. They too, could be right. But what most don'tr realize is that I do it because it is the only part of me I seem capable of toughening, hardening, making impervious. Try as I might, I cannot seem to toughen my squishy interior. I was once told that "life would beat that out of me." I thought that was a crude, callous statement, though I almost wish it could be made to happen. Life does not beat the sensitivity out of me. If anything it is like one of those vicious looking, stainless steel, meat tenderizing hammers; the more it pounds on me, the more tender and fragile I become. Honestly, I do not begrudge my fragility, it is a large part of what makes me who I am. Yes, it may mean I come home, lay on my bed and weep silently into my pillow with alarming regularity, but then I get up, workout and make myself a healthy dinner. Obsessive, yes, Compulsive, yes. Neurotic, definitely. Bit if I were not the tender, caring, delicate, somewhat wimpy lunatic that I am I would also be less careful with the feelings and hearts of others. It makes me a nurturing, caring earth-mother. It makes me the compassionate friend, passionate lover, defender of the weak. It is a vital part of who I am. I cannot change it, despite my own desires to do so. I know I should not change it, for that would alter an essential aspect of Me. And so I will continue to toughen the shell so I can protect the delicate center. I will make my temple a fortress, to protect the gentle spirit within. My weakness is a power, a vital part of who I am. A indelible aspect of Me.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Never By Halves

    I was told, more than once, that I "never do anything by halves." It was not meant as a compliment at the time, but as a derisive criticism of my Full-Speed-Ahead Nature. No, I do not do important things by halves. Not if it is important to me, or to someone who is important to me. It is just how Brain, Body and Spirit function. I can no more contain it than any of the more exuberant aspects of my nature. It is who I am. Despite past criticisms, I honestly cherish this tendency of mine, though it may come across as alarming to some. And it has also driven people away, made them question my motives, express concern at the intensity of my actions. I would like to say that external forces make no difference, but that would not be true. External forces have often made me reel myself in, hide my desires and dreams behind a calm demeanor even when my insides are all ablaze with the excitement of Things To Come. I have practiced projecting calm, rational actions, hiding the real drive behind the actions. It is not that I am trying to deceive anyone, just trying with every fiber to not alarm those around me, those who may not understand the forces that drive me, compel me, propel me forward. Even so, people question my actions and motives. Question my decision making. So many think that I leap unknowingly into new endeavors, but that is not true. I often think things through meticulously, obsessively, often to the point of talking myself out of something because I can see all the potential for abject failure. But once the thinking is done I want to act upon it, now. Once a decision is made I do not like to languish. I know "to everything there is a season" but there are times when I feel a bit like a hothouse, forcing things to grow out of season because I want them NOW. No, this is not always the best way of approaching any change, plan, scheme, plot, but it is how I am. More often, I have a dream, a desire, a wish, and I begin to gather information, silently, swiftly, at times in a glut of fact finding, and then I let it all percolate in my gray matter, simmer on the back burner, coalesce, meld. Once the idea has had some time to gently wash around in my skull I begin to examine it more closely, skim off the froth, check the seasonings, see what may be missing. It is often a long, slow process as I wait for the ideas to come together, and at this point I know it cannot be forced. Once the idea has gelled into a solid plan, then comes the time to push, to force, to leap into action. This is the point when I feel action must be taken or I will explode in a gory mess of unspoken, unrealized, pent up momentum. It is an energy that must have an outlet, must be released or it will fester into an agonizing mass of nuclear strength desire needing the slightest weakness in my shell to splatter itself all across the countryside. Such explosions are epic, damaging, painful, and exhausting on every level. And so I have learned that once an idea is ripe, it must be harvested in some form because it will not merely fade into darkness.
    Yes, I have desires and dreams that have not come to fruition. Who doesn't? But these are either still simmering on the back burner, awaiting their opportunity to erupt onto the world. Or they are dreams that faded and dimmed as others came in to replace them, supplant them, when they refused to ripen, or were deemed too full of holes to hold up to reality. This happens. Often. I do have wild dreams that cavort about in my mind, dreams I know are merely that; dreams. The key is separating the dream from the pipe dream. Or taking the pipe dream, realizing its true potential and moving it up in the ranks. I have done this as well.
    So, when I was "accused" of never Doing Anything By Halves, I took it as a compliment, regardless of how it was intended. Doing anything by halves will get you nothing but mediocrity. In order to truly achieve a dream it must be pursued with every fiber, reached for with eager fingers, beckoned, enticed, grasped and held. It must be done with a whole heart, or what is the point? A dream, desire, passion is owed the respect of my full blown, head on, balls to the wall, damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead, Leap Before I Look energies. To be anything less would be a disservice to my dreams, my heart, and my Self. All or Nothing. Never By Halves.

Gathering Momentum

    For what has seemed an eternity I have felt that I was living in a parallel universe, an alternate reality that was out of phase with everything going on around me. No matter how I tried to to bring my life into phase so I could move forward, make changes, find a solid footing within the chaos of life, I always seemed to either fall short or jump the gun. My timing was continually off, either jumping too soon and getting run over by the train, or jumping too late and missing it entirely. Neither was getting me anywhere but injured. I felt I was constantly scraping myself out from the grooves of the cowcatcher and painstakingly piecing myself back together, or picking myself up from the dirt to watch my ride crest over the horizon without me. To say it was frustrating would be like comparing a mosquito bite to a compound fracture. I toiled, wept, fought, struggled, wept some more, and nearly gave up in my attempts to gain a toehold in a substantial reality. I am not sure if I was, once again, just trying to jump start my chosen path before the path was ready for me, and hence, the continued struggles? Or is it that the Powers That Be deemed it essential that I try and fail, try and fail, and try again in order to fully appreciate and acknowledge the rightness of finally finding myself moving forward into a potentially great and satisfying journey? Were the PTBs just toying with me as an ant in an ant farm under the magnifying glass of a curious child? Or making me stronger so I can withstand the Forces of Nature that are still bound to blow me off course now and then? I do not know. May well never know. But it does not matter. I have made a difficult journey, am possibly still making a difficult journey, but for the moment it seems as if the roadblocks, washed out gullys and mudslides that I had grown so accustomed to are curiously absent. So, for now, I am striding forward, unimpeded, taking advantage of the clear path to truly stretch my legs and my wings. For the moment, I am leaping forward, gathering momentum, gaining speed, feeling the wind in my face. Finally, moving forward at speed.