Wednesday, February 23, 2022

Free from the Gilded Cage (Another Vivid Dream)

 Last night I dreamt I was serving a second mission in Dallas Texas for the LDS church. I served there 1982 - 1984 as a missionary, trainer, District Leader, and Zone Leader. All three of my trainees went on to be A.P.s ...Assistant to the President, or Apes, as we liked to call them.  At my release, my mission president shook my hand hard and said he wished he had realized sooner what I great trainer I was since he would have had me doing that my whole mission. I remember being a bit relieved for his delayed ignorance.  And truth told I had a good and patient trainer, made so because he was suffering from colitis and was soon sent home.  This was the perfect environment for me to learn the ropes without being forced into full-on missionary work straight out of the gate.  I was the first new missionary in my incoming group to "Pass Off" on all my scriptures and discussions, mostly due to brother Bill's bad GI, which put him mostly horizontalwith intermittent sitting, which gave me time to get up to speed doing the same reading... sometimes outside our green cinderblock duplex apartment out in the middle of the well-named Plainview, Texas - I unconsciously used that tact whenever I was given a new missionary to open an area (Eastland, Brownsville, and Denton come to mind).

Coincidently, and maybe not so, I was back in Dallas last week doing training for my company at an undisclosable location, and Oh! How the memories of my youth came flooding in again.

Looking at the dream now, awake, and hopefully my senses sober, I was probably something like a mission president, or advisor, train the trainers, etc... The dream was certainly a conflation of  the two events .... So here it is, as best I can recall, my dream:

I was in a big meeting with all the bigwigs, most local, one remote, in a local area conference in the northern suburbs of Dallas, where the swanky people swank it up. Let's just call it somewhere south of Plano toward Farmer's Branch where I lodged last.  I was sitting in the conference with my beautiful girl-friday, my travel assistant. On this fine occasion of verbal drudgery, we were being a little frisky-flirty up in the lower balcony seats, me smelling her neck, she twirling my hair, and we both making goo-goo eyes at each other, sometimes at ourselves, sometimes over what was said, as we listened to the hub blub of blatherers who like to speak far too long about complicated contorted stuff, which is actually, in reality, small and simple stuff really, if you're not too tight butthole over things that don't quite matter (OCD maybe) ... and their continued anxious concerns for looking good on the outside while having a rotten thorn inside them, that they're loathe to pull out, and especially loathe to have it pulled out by others because they were acting like whited sepulchers the J man spoke to, was, may I say, a bit mentally taxing to my chi.  

As the speaker kept speaking and the lectern kept creaking in the amplified mic. And this repeating, as each lecturer took turns at the lectern. The breathers kept breathing their heavy concerns mixed with do or die motivations, and expectations of high perfections, and the weepers cried for lost loves .... Uhhhhg.

In this stream of woes and man yer hoes, keep digging holes, and burying loves lost, I remembered one of my favorite stories as a kid, Aesop I think, of the little mouse that came along and solved a huge problem for what to him would be a horrible beast, by removing a simple thorn from the paw of that very thankful, but fearsome beast.  Being small enough and thus able to get at and remove what it could not. .. And by small things, even simple things are great things brought to pass" ... or at least grateful things.

I always thought of myself, like probably every kid did when hearing the story, as that little mouse... but in my dream, I realized I may also be part of the beast, no being much older, and maybe a fearsome thing.  And of course, as the beast, I'm never going to piddle with a tiny mouse for prey when I've got bigger concerns for my immediate comfort and peace.  Conclusion possible, I may just be the beast here, in this dream.  Now the question is, "Where is my thorn?"  Help me Mouse! ... maybe I need to find the mouse, as the French say at the scene of most crimes of passion, "Cherchez la Femme!"

So on I daydreamed about that story where it led me while muted sounds met my ears.  I zoned out at a zone conference you might say.  But in my reverie and escape, I was pulled back to reality when ... I heard the words "What ever it is that is in you, giving you pain, be brave enough to pull it out."  Still half-dazed I remember looking sideways at her face, with words of concern in my ear ("her" being my assistant in case I lost you), with her left leg draped over my right, and our inner arms loosely around shoulders playing with each other's necks and hairlines, probably looking like some four-legged, two-headed monster.  It was then that I was pulled from my dream within a dream, and pulled from my diversion.  I heard my name, my full name, and title (Rank)

He, the latest speaker, was talking about me now! And looking at me now!   Disgusted a bit it seemed by our PDA.

He said I was being sent back home, and released (fired basically) because I had used the word cunt in my conversation one too many times with the wrong person entirely (CONtext bitch, Context! - words I've been speaking to myself lately to overcome my affliction with jumping tangent without giving enough context for my listeners. and being sometimes woefully misunderstood. lol). 

So I was being kicked out, in public, out of the mission, out of the group, out of my responsibilities, and being sent home early on the reprimand. Probably disfellowshipped or at least dishonored in one way or multiple ways.  I remember thinking, "This is an extreme response. Really!?  Just for calling a rose, a rose?"

After what was a scramble of events of untangling ourselves, like dreams are when panic sets, I calmly stood up, trying not to laugh, be inappropriate as I am sometimes, or say anything I'd regret ... and as I stood, I said, "Thank you for the release. (1) We'll see ya'll on the flipside!"  with nothing but a pleasant grin ... not a finger as implied. 

As I stood up to go, surprised, she took my hand to stand as well. She truly was by my side all the way. This helped immensely as we exited the event gracefully, past open eyes aghast, up the aisle and out the back way, out of the auditorium, and down the elevator to the parking garage, with the city wet waning and a bit windy out the elevator window as told by the motion of the rain droplets on the elevator glass windows as we looked at each other and the city we were sinking into, as cars lit their lights early for the dusking sun. The breeze gently blew into the elevator as the doors opened to the parking garage ... still frisky and both feeling set free from the pain going on in that room, from people who are too afraid to love or admit they might not always be on the right side.  We exited the elevator, stage left, got in our really nice mission car (2021 Nissan Silver Altima, if you're dying to know), that the mission had furnished me. Once in the car and settled, we exited the bowels of the parking garage to join our fellow travelers on the wet, windy, and waning roads. As we exited the out ramp, I lit my lights in a show of solidarity with my fellow travelers. It really wasn't that dark yet. I looked loving at her for her love and support and said thank you for it with my eyes.  I was especially thankful for her understanding. 

We drove home, southwest into the sunset, to our provided digs at Farmer's Branch, which in my minimalist's relative terms were quite swanky.

...Hey, they have outdoor hot tubs AND pools all year round in Texas! ... which means birds flying and perching and carrying on about you as you swim. Heaven! I especially enjoy the crows, and all kinds of corvids, during covid even more, and gained a special interest for that have rudder tails!  ;)  

The cold pool made for some serious Wim Hoffing, if you're into that sort of thing (good for chilling drinks and melons at least)... we moved hotels from La Quinta (haunted house) to Hampton Inn in Farmer's branch because it had better amenities... and I'm all about better amenities - Amen!   
/Tangent....

Arriving back at our digs, we both went to our separate rooms and offices, each seeking to pack quickly what was most dear and needed to get out of town as told.  This was our new mission now, together, to get away before they told us just where to go and how to do it. I was being released, right? Then I'm outta here - don't need ta tell me twice!

The last thing I remember was my phone ringing as I was rushing to pack everything I valued and putting the annoying number of my superior on block.  As we were almost out of our now past digs, there was a knock on the door and more commotion that I won't get into now ... 

As you're probably wanting to know, we managed to avoid more of the yammering hoopla and their desire to settle my fate for speaking bad words to talk about good things.  Yeah. We got away!

That's when my alarm went off or I noticed it going off.  My phone alarm didn't wake me because it was in the dream.  Actually, the dream ended when I heard my son yelling and pounding the wall from his room, "Turn off your alarm!"  ... It goes off at 6 AM.  lol

As I pondered it more, this morning, and now fully awake, it had meaning for me, deep spiritual-sauce kind of stuff.

You see, for me, AWAKE, the simple problem with the religion of my youth, that could be solved so elegantly is for them to pull out the thorn of bigotry and disapproval they hold toward other people not living in accordance with their set ways (and yeah, I'm talking about human sexuality, and homosexuality specifically here since as you may know, my father was such and held the tortured heart of a beautiful man trying to live in a cage that didn't fit him ... but anything goes as far as what is causing you pain.  Whatever it is, I say, "Release It!" ... or at least have it checked. :)  We need more people at peace in this crazy world right now.

Yeah,, sure it will still hurt to step on the wound, touch it, have it touched, or poked, or have any pressure applied, but with time it will heal if you can learn to tolerate the discomfort enough (I broke 3 ribs, and cracked 3 this past summer as I racked my rib cage and collapsed lung being stoo-ped). 

 Maybe most progress from pain, and away from it can be had with just a simple change of heart (policies and how it is spoken about out loud) and a lot more kindness and understanding, just like their savior showed.

And if you really, by definition, cannot feel empathy for the thorn, or those carrying it, at least show compassion.  Maybe just some silence and some serving, with peace upon you and in you ... but you can't have that carrying thorns yourself. 

Maybe we/they really don't even need to talk about it, and it's simply a distraction from other things that REALLY matter RIGHT now in our shared world and universe, "each another's audience, outside the gilded cage." (2)

You may be somewhere else, spinning around something else, but like everything, the same principles apply to very different things. If you are experiencing pain from something, anything at all, pull it out, get rid of it, disinfect the wound and expect some healing ... which means more pain usually.

But have faith that you can heal, eventually.  My dream was about healing.  And if you can't do it yourself, I pray that you have a little mousey friend in this world who can help you get it out - any way you need to have it extracted, so that your soul can be at peace again, and you can regain the flow and calm of the Wu-Wei.

I've said before, I did not leave my religion, I graduated from it. And god bless my Alma Matter, my SPirit Mother, the cradle of my soul.

I can't wait to have another dream about our further travels home together, where ever we call that. At least I hope to dream of it again. I still remember her face - vividly, and she is no one I know or have known (maybe a weird amalgamation). 

I hope to see what happens next in my dream, this particular dream.

... and I sure hope it includes the word cunt! 

Sorry, but I really cunt help it.  :D (3)


Peace be with you my friends and family, in whatever adventure you are presently in.
If I know you, ICU, and you have my <3, always. 
And if not that, I can always get away fast into the cold and the darkness, down a deep dark hole of isolation, where I best find my chi ... I AM a Water Rabbit, sometimes a Jack one too. ;)

Comments welcome.

NOTES:
(1) See my recent blog titled, I Release You, for the tangential reference.

(2) A line from one of my favorite Rush songs which highlights a concept my son recently showed me in another light with his woodshop project he'd done. He selected the simple word Sonder, which was CNC'ed on to an alder placard. I helped him finish it in the garage and gave him access to all my art tools.  It was beautiful naked and turned out beautiful dresses, and a word that helped me immensely in reiteration of the concept that my bad habit of improperly applying the idea of the "Theory of Mind", which higher intelligences, such as ourselves, surely, possess ... me often getting it wrong and making it worse. 

Sonder  n.  the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own, populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, and ways of interpreting and thinking about a shared environment ... Nov 16, 2021 ~ Uploaded by Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows (edited).

(3) Pussy, twat, privates, verginer, pusk'ette, crotch lips, 1-2-3 lock box, vaginal region, etc. :P



 

Monday, February 7, 2022

Is it enough?

 Visiting downtown Grand Rapids as winter is in its last death throes, I'm riding the charter bus in the early hours taking me to a training conference. As large corporate buildings rise across the river and spread throughout downtown with their large corporate logos plastered and lit hard on their facades I consider the greed going on, how people are naturally inclined to take, not what is rightfully theirs ethically, but whatever they can legally.  Thinking of all the one sided agreements and top down enforced, think of hotel pullbacks

Then I thought about this human behavior, that seems natural in each of us - hey, if it's there I deserve it... I can see this thinking in my own life... when is it enough. When will I be satisfied that I am enough and most especially , have enough

Thursday, February 3, 2022

Celebrating Life, not Death

 I've been thinking a lot lately about my mental focus and maybe how much I may be addicted to suffering and what I call a "beautiful sadness".  Death and loss have always held me, probably longer than they should, or better put, I have always held them longer than is beneficial.  I tend to have a dark sense of humor and enjoy darkness literally.  As an armchair biologist, I'm fascinated by nocturnal animals that live without much light.  I've even gone off camping along in the desert to record their calls and experience their "nightlife".

I tell myself it's understandable, this somewhat recent and growing intimacy with death given My father died in 2006, November 14th, and my mother died 10 years later, November 7th, 2016. (November has always been a mystical month of births and deaths in my family).  There's also the new farm animal harvest that happened in October, culling the herd for winter - ducks, chickens, bunnies, and goats.  I raise animals for meat so as not to support the meat industry and still feed  and do my best to make it humane and give them a good free range life before they go. As an animal lover, that's been tough, but I got through it more resilient and stronger, and have striv

This winter I hit a hard depressive episode, from which I'm just recovering from, despite all my efforts to "get out into it", and remain active even after the sun goes down in order to avoid the usual hibernation and shut down I go through due to seasonal affective disorder, with its attendant depression and death of all motivational raison d'etre, with the oversleeping, loathing my obligations, and sticking to bed until literally, my back hurts.  I know I'm depressed when I start oversleeping ... that is exactly what happened this Winter.  It has been the worst winter depression I've experienced for a long time and came as a surprise, given my new winter routine that usually holds back the grim reaper of depression.  It sucked. 

 I knew why it was worse, at least by the physical instigators. It coincided with breaking up from a two-year relationship that was mostly very good, but not built for longevity. We both admitted that.  It blew up between Christmas and New Years, with all the hurt and pain needing to be processed, and also coincidence with my resolution to quit nicotine in all its forms (smoke and vape mostly), which threw my dopamine reward system into a downward spin ... I'm getting better.  I'm still not smoking, although truth, there have been moments of weakness when the universe threw me a bone and I took it... but I am smoke free.


...talk about realigning myself to honor Mark Hollis' death February 25th, 2019, and instead honor his life, born Jan 4th, 1955

Top 10 Male Vocalists:

1. Mark Hollis (Talk Talk)

2. Paul Buchanan (Blue Nile)

3. Layne Staley (Alice in Chains)

4. Rob Halford (Judas Priest)

5. David Foster

6. Chris Cornell

7. Jeff Lynne



Top 10 Female Vocalists
1. Imogen Heap (Frou Frou)
2. Connie Mitchell (Sneaky Sound System)

3. Pink
Billie Eilish

Karen Carpenter, Annie Lennox, Dua Lipa