Blogs? Help me figure this out!

 My "last" blog was left unpublished two years ago.  

Blogs?  Are they daily digestive processes that you share or foist on others? The rhythm? Biannual or Cicada-like?        Does that make sense?   

Is blogging like biting fingernails, a semiconscious urge, need?  a chance to impress or get tolerated, pitied by others?  I've come back to this blog only because another one of my illusions of connection, "My Website" needs repair and I see that I have some grumbly urge to post something out there sweetly assuming that there is a waiting audience or that Fate will algorithm it to just the right people.

I'll end now with my favorite image: Sensitive Chaos: which has likely been used many times before on this blog. Oh, well.

Post Vac Blues

 I thought after Vac shot 2,  I'd feel relieved, protected, released.  Well, I did.  For a day. Then there was a thought, worry, anxiety--like an eye floater: I Like This Way! I don't want it to stop! I don't want to "visit" 

For a moment, I thought it was just my late life curmudgeon self having a moment on stage.  You know "I love Humanity, it's people I can't tolerate".  It's a male-thing.  But then my wife began echoing similar thoughts.

Something Alchemical was happening.   I've been a student of Alchemy for a few decades and have learned that Things, People Transform.  Some very few times by plan, but usually by some larger set of forces that can only be seen in retrospect. Our quarantining is just such one force. In the process, our brains have been rewired.  There are consequences and even benefits.  More Tomorrow on the Distilling, the Tincturing that is taking place. We have less tolerance for dilute distractions and the people who deal in them. We are winnowing out our address books with ruthless and perhaps unconscious vigor.  Years ago, my 7-year old daughter was angry at her friend and this was the threat (and promise) "Nora, I'm taking you out of my address book"  Nora was crushed.  That is now playing out all over. Existential weariness sets in at even the thought of a Facetime, a Zoom or perhaps even a text exchange with some people. "OMG, I can't do it"

More tomorrow

Recently Finished Anima as gift?

 

Wonder If...

 Many of us are just waiting... for the vaccine, for warmer weather... for things to get back to "normal".  Wonder If they never will?

How can we start to practice for this New World?  to accept that some things, some ways are over. It's happened many times in our lives already. Certainly the death of people close to us upends our world. Other traumas, failings, accidents are similar.  We usually come back to an amended world, resembling parts of the old one.. My favorite Marshall McLuhan quote is       

 "We go hurtling into the future looking in a rear-view mirror"

Are there ways to prepare now? Or is the Shock of it,  a big essential part of it all?

Talk, Talk, Talk doesn't really seem too helpful.  

I'm trying to arrange something less direct and more playful... a game-like activity. The Players get to make up the rules, choose appropriate Game Boards, Yes, there's contact with Chance (nice vintage dice), but the goal is not to WIN, but to turn a corner of awareness about how games can be played; that the rules change, the Game Pieces change.  There are hidden messages in games and game playing that can seep into the rest of our upended lives.   More on my Website

Beginnings of Future Blogs: quotes and ideas

Finding and Practicing Ways to expand Vision, Sensibility in these Contentious Times  as our "normal" selves wear thin

No such thing as Bad Weather,  just unsuitable clothing.

Build your opponent a golden bridge to retreat across    Sun Tzu

“Nothing so needs reforming as other people’s habits. Fanatics will never learn that, though it be written in letters of gold across the sky. It is the prohibition that makes anything precious.”            Mark Twain

Yard Rage & Civility     People Home           Noise is a bigtime stressor  

Loud Boys 

Educate, not threaten  foster compromise or arguments will never stop

Phrase from recent Times article : Random Morbidity

Wayward Artist Lost in a Political World

 As much as we (I) might want to barricade the door of my studio, I can't: 

Thomas Friedman on Trump: Politics of Humiliation

Trump as White Male Icon

Donald Trump, Political Dyslexic:

"I believe, you know, in always speaking Power to truth."

"I don't see anything, I don't believe"