Posts tagged ‘journal’

Shattered Dreams

I thought things were looking up, but now I’m watching a familiar scene, as all my dreams are slowly shattered. The pieces fall like sand between my fingers, fragments of the might-have-beens. I wish it were just myself affected, but I know it’s always something more. All I want is a bit of stability, but it’s nowhere to be found.

At times like this, I hate him more.  I hate him for all that he was and all that he wasn’t.  I hate him for not being what I needed.  I hate him for leaving me in this predicament.  I hate that if I’d never met him at all, my life would have continued along a better path.  I hate that all the choices I made that led me to this particular hell were made based on the greater good of my family.  I hate the irony of those very same choices being the things that have me in this hell where I can’t take care of my family without him.  Most of all, I hate that I can’t truly blame this on him, because the choices were mine to make, most especially the choices I made leading up to our marriage.  At any point, I could have made better choices, and would not have been stuck here like I am today.


I knew divorce would change my life, but I wasn’t sure exactly how it would happen.  I prepared for the worst, but hoped for the best.  I never counted on being stuck.  It literally feels like my life has come to a complete stand still.  We can never go back, we can only move forward–that’s what I was told.  Nobody prepared me for being stuck.

Just enough to get by, and nothing more.  I keep looking for a way to move this along in a positive direction, but I’m finding nothing.  Every plan I make falls apart.  The only options left are to remain stuck, or make a choice for the worse in the hopes of giving things a kick start.  I try to plan my priorities, but nothing makes sense anymore.




How can you miss what was never yours?
I feel you sometimes, you know.
I don’t know how you got so far under my skin,
Yet I know that you’re a part of me now.
The troubled state of my soul
Rests on visions of you.
Once you felt more real, but now
I watch you return to the mists.
Will you return?
Please, don’t be gone long.
I’ll miss you every second.
I hope you know, my heart
Is in your hands,
Hoping fervently….
You may not know,
I understand.
I hope one day, you will.

Religion = Peace…?

A boy once told me that “our religion” is about finding peace.  That didn’t make sense to me at that time, and it actually upset me a little bit.  Was I going about this whole religion thing wrong?  And who is he to tell me what my religion should mean to me?  I thought about it more and more, waiting for an answer to these and other questions that rose in my mind.

I suppose if you boil religion down to its lowest point, then maybe that’s true.  Ideally, your religion should help you make peace with the world.  What is religion, if not a tool for understanding how the world works and learning how to work with it?  But is that the same as finding peace?

For some, this is definitely true.  Some people follow religions that believe in having love and compassion for all people, forgiving and forgetting, trying to make the world a better place, helping the less fortunate, etc.  I would say that all of those help promote peace.  But does it always bring peace to the soul of the practitioner?

For others, they seek what best benefits themselves.  If you do only what seems right to you, or only what benefits you, regardless of the consequences to anyone else, does this bring peace?  What about atheists, who have only themselves to answer to, do they always have peace?

I think the question of the purpose of religion is much more complex than just finding peace.  I will follow my own religion or spirituality as I see fit.  Will it always bring me peace?  I doubt it.  I believe in doing right by the world, and other people living in it.  But there is not one set of right and wrong answers.  What is right for some will be wrong for others.  Because of this, there will always be conflict.  This conflict will exist in the world, and in my spirit.  I want to protect the environment, my children, my friends, my family.  Sometimes these will conflict with each other, and the result will not be inner peace.

Maybe the Zen Buddhists are right.  Maybe the only way to find true peace is to give up passion.  But to me, to give up passion is too much to bear.  I love the people in my life passionately.  I could not handle the distance from them that would be required to find “peace”.  For me, the conflict is true peace for me.

I may never know for sure what the boy meant with his words, but that’s fine with me.  Not all questions have answers, and sometimes our own answers are more important.


New Year’s Resolutions

I wrote these out on the evening of December 31st, but have been too busy to post them online.  So, without further ado, here’s my list of resolutions.

1.  Practice Yoga every Sunday.  (I have offered my self the reward of taking an actual yoga class if I accomplish my goal through June.)

2.  Spend an hour on reading and writing each week.

3.  Meal plan at least two meals each week.

4.  Add one new allergy fighting food to the menu each month.

5.  Start a square foot garden and compost.

6.  Start an official journal and write in it daily.

7.  Set aside 15 minutes each week to draw.

8.  Make one “green” switch each month.

9.  Make a volunteer effort each month.  (This is intentionally vague–this could be volunteering my time, or donating clothes, or any number of things.)

10.  Follow the FlyLady motto for 2011:  “Let’s go for Seven in 2011!”


Aine Speaks

“Can you hear the heartbeats of a million people…
Can you feel my words on your heart…
Can you feel the rhythm of the changing…
Can you hear the groans of revolution…
Can you feel…
Can you feel…”

So Aine speaks to me.  Tonight brings great change, how or what, I do not know.  The time for sitting still is over.  Now is the time for action.  We are all feeling it, the stirring, the call.  We know that something must be done, but we know not what.  It will come, and with it, confusion.  But it is coming.  Tonight, the skies will wear omens of change.  Tomorrow will show us a new world.  Are we ready?

Today is the day, now is the time.


Meeting Death (Dream)

from the night of 12/19/2010

Last night, I met Death.  The details of the dream before I met Death are a bit hazy, but I remember it started out almost sexual.  I would be changing clothes or something, and I’d catch a glimpse of the Reaper in the background, watching me.  As soon as he was noticed, he’d disappear.  Then, one time, I saw him and he did not go away, he just continued to stare at me, into my eyes.  I asked him to leave, and he said no.  I told him it was not my time yet, I was too young.  He said I had made a mistake, and I had failed.  I had nothing left to accomplish, my mistake had ruined it all.  As he spoke, he had moved closer to me, and was now standing a few feet away.  I could see his face.  His skeleton face was actually just a mask, floating in front of his real face.  Now the mask disappeared, and behind it was the face of a friend.  I tried to think what mistake I had made, how I could have altered things in my life so drastically as to completely ruin the course of my destiny.  Then I looked her in the face and told her that I did not believe that anyone was capable of making a mistake that could not be fixed.  She explained that the mistake was not the problem, but my attitude.  I would continue to make this mistake, and so it could not be fixed.  I told her that I could try.  She smiled, and decided to give me another chance.

Then I was standing in front of a sort of wall.  I could see fields and meadows, but it was like in a video game, where it’s just an illusion, and you can’t really walk past the wall.  I could see words at the bottom, and I tried to make sense of it.  I can’t remember all of it, but one of them started with a “Pa” or “Po” (not pandora) and another said Summerland.  She told me it was not a sentence, but the names of different places I could visit.  I chose Summerland.    We flew through the wall, and then we were flying over meadows and a stream.  I could see music and clusters of diminutive fairies, and in the river was an island with a makeshift hut.  The hut seemed to be made of two halves of a thatched roof placed side by side, just a covering as there were no walls.  A small fire burned near it, and there was a hook for holding a pot/cauldron, and the cauldron was on the ground next to it.  Flowers grew in random patches throughout the meadow.  There was a mountain to the left; we were in the valley.  And to the right, over a small hill, was a plain.  Everywhere green grasses grew, the sky was blue with just a few well-placed clouds set into it.  In front of us, but still far away, was a forest.   We hovered briefly to the right of the river, across from the hut.  That’s all I remember of Summerland.  While I was there, I only had the sense of sight–all other senses were absent.  (Perhaps that’s why I could see, but not hear, the music?)

Next, I was going down through a tunnel, and ended up in a house.  I was myself, but I was in another girl’s body, and I had to play her role.  I didn’t really have a choice in her actions, I was simply playing the storyline.  In fact, all the people and scenery in this place really resembled a video game, an older game when graphics were just starting to get good, but still weren’t very realistic.  She had blonde hair, and wore a blue tank top.  (I’m not sure if that’s significant or not, but I’m trying to record all the details I can remember.)  She went to see the boy she liked at his house, but he wasn’t home.  She went to find him, and another girl tried to get in the way, but she didn’t let her get in the way.  When she found him, he was upset about something.  She helped to comfort him, but she still didn’t tell him that she liked him.  He seemed to be bound, something was in his way, and at times, he literally could not move his arms or legs, but was bound and being pushed along.  (I know it sounds strange.  These were actually different scenes, but I’m not sure of the order they came in, or how we got from one to another.)  She freed him from the binds, and it was obvious that they both liked each other, but still, neither spoke of it.  They had a closer friendship, but there was still a distance between them, and the distance was uncomfortable.  Then the girl was bound, and being pushed along, and I was her, and we were in the tunnel.  We finished up back in the house I had started out in, playing the story again.  But this time I had more freedom.  This time, I tried to change things, because I saw how sad they were, but I still couldn’t seem to get things quite right.

And then I woke up.


1/17/2011 — Edit:  I’ve been thinking more about this dream lately, and I tried to find some paintings of “Summerland”.  Instead, I found some photos, and the ones that most resembled my dream were from a trail at Mt. Rainier, in an area that they call Summerland.  I have never been to Washington, and had not heard of the mountain or its Summerland before seeing these pictures.  While they aren’t identical to my dream, they are pretty close.

This one, minus snow:


And especially this one:


Weird Dream

from the night of 12/18/2010

I had a dream…. that was so strange…

There was this guy, I don’t remember his name.  It was kinda like a tv show, and he was the good guy.  The bad guys were always trying to kidnap him, take his stuff, that sort of thing.  I don’t remember what was so important about him.  I remember some sort of tube, like a tube of chapstick but it wasn’t chapstick, that I hid in my back pocket at one point.  The bad guys were always doing something stupid to try to take the stuff, but they’d been getting progressively smarter.  When I hid the tube of stuff they were looking for, they kidnapped the hero and gave him some sort of virus.  We had to make an anti-virus.  I should also mention that the virus and anti-virus were both sentient, black blobs like on Spiderman.  Unlike Spiderman, the virus could not detach itself, it just moved like a blob until it entered the target’s system.  Same with the anti-virus, but it would not enter the first person it saw, it knew its target.  The virus had been dumped from a tube straight onto the hero so I don’t know if it had the same capabilities.

Anyway…. So, did I mention that Hillary Duff was one of the people in this group?  She was the hero’s girlfriend.  Now, when he was first infected, we didn’t know.  We tried to rescue him, but he was under the influence of the virus and attacked us.  Then I saw things from his point of view, and saw that, to him, everyone’s faces were distorted, like “trollface”.  (Actually, I think the whole scene reminds me more of the video for “Black River Killer” or possibly the gas from Batman Begins but the last time I saw it was a few years ago so I’m not sure.)  Also, whenever anyone spoke to him, it sounded like medieval English.  But, since people were speaking modern English, it did not translate directly to him, and was distorted, which is why he was unable to understand what his teammates were saying to him. It had sounded like something bad which is why he attacked him.  The scientist announced that he’d finished the anti-virus, and decided that Hillary should be the one to administer it to him.  (At this point, I was no longer seeing things from the hero’s view, but I was not in a body.)  Hillary puts on her sexiest dress and they put the blob anti-virus on her back (so he won’t see it…) and she runs off to find him.  When she’s about half way there, I tell her what I know about the middle English.  She panics and runs to find a book to teach her middle English so she can talk to him.  (I think I told her without having a body, yet she looked at me as if I was in a body… ??? Was I a ghost?  A god??  I don’t know.)  She thumbs through the book to get a quick idea of what she needs to say, but doesn’t have time to perfect it.  When she sees the guy, she tries to talk to him.  She fumbles some words, so he doesn’t completely trust her, but he doesn’t attack her either.  She tries to tell him that she loves him, which was apparently performed perfectly, because he let her kiss him.  She figures she’d best run with this as long as possible so she won’t mess up the talking, so she’s making out with him, but the sentient blob on her back is taking its sweet time reaching its target.  The hero finally gets suspicious and pushes away from her, before the blob gets to him.    I don’t really remember what happened after that, but I think that I helped her get a hold of him again, and this time the blob moved more quickly and he got the anti-virus.  Then he took care of the bad guys.  I watched the crew have a few more adventures, but the bad guys had turned seriously dumb again, so they were over quickly and they were not important.