At least it is for this one….
Here’s a question for all you psychiatrist or psychologist or whatever-ists out there on Medium. And I know you’re out there, ’cause we read and follow you.
And, clap for you (hint, hint…).
I’m basically fine…
Pretty good, really.
Except for this one little problem…
My subconscious mind delights in flogging me through recurring Anxiety dreams — based apparently on some uncomfortable experiences from my earlier life.
A sadness at the footsteps of dawn…
And frequently too! Like, maybe every other night or so! There are probably three or four recurring dreams which…
I have noticed that if your core group of muscles around your stomach and lower back begin to atrophy, then your skeletal structure begins to “sit down on”, or impinge on its own joints, rather than being “suspended” as it were, within a network of muscles which are much better able to support and manipulate the weight of our body. Lower back pain is the first sign of this.
You are absolutely right - regular exercise is the ONLY fix for this!
“Did you know that when it snows
My eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen?”
Kiss from a Rose lyrics by Seal © Perfect Songs Ltd.
How to handle a rose:
Dealing with yourself is a little like handling a rose.
You are like a rose — sublime, with languid folds of crimson petals… Beautiful…
Deep red, totally relaxed, and confidant with its beauty and place in the world.
A great wrinkle in the aether…
There is a giant crack in the world. And we are standing directly over it.
It is not a physical crack, like the Grand Canyon, but a crack in our psyche — a mysterious unseen ghostly crack, way down in our subconsciousness.
It is ancient.
Out of this vast opening comes both Angels and demons.
Both light and dark come out of this opening. Both the sane and the insane gather their forces at it.
On seeing the world after cataract surgery:
The stars — they are in bold font tonight!
They are so sharp and singular, they each prick the soul like a needle. They would be painful to look at if they were not so incredibly awe-inspiring.
So tiny. So bright!
Pick a bright one and stare at it.
Tell me if you don’t actually feel it — there — down deep in the very center of your being.
Baba Zula — from over the pole…
OK — Baba Zula is really not some guy’s name — it’s the name of a Turkish band — Baba Zula.
Great name, eh? It rolls right off the tongue — Baba Zula.
I discovered these guys while listening to SomaFM, I think.
Here’s their website:
Formed in Istanbul in 1996, Baba ZuLa features founding members Levent Akman (spoons, percussions, machines, toys), Murat Ertel (electric saz and other stringed instruments, vocals, oscillators, theremin), as well as darbuka and percussion player Ümit Adakale, Periklis Tsoukalas on electric ud and vocal.
I currently cannot…
I have a secret — I am not who I say I am…
(A love letter to my body…)
A murder of crows takes flight into the morning sky, as the new day unpacks itself.
Me, like a bear, stumble from my slumber.
Rubbing my eyes, I let the dog out.
Barefoot, I step out with her. I am instantly engulfed by the warm morning.
Woodsmoke! my senses inform me.
It’s the remnants of yesterday’s fire still wafting in the breeze.
The body breathes deeply. It is happy; grateful to be alive, and full of joy for the new air…
Sometimes, the Light.
Another winter under the belt, I muse.
The sun is gradually setting higher in the evening sky.
But, she is having a bit of trouble this evening. She doesn’t want to go to bed at all. Resisting like a toddler, poking her blonde head up off the horizon for one last look before nightfall.
All the evening birds celebrate her reluctance.
More! More! Please! they beg.
Spring peepers echo their approval, along with legions of whirring American Toads, intent on their springtime urges.
Sometimes, when the light is right, you can witness a sublime moment of clarity…
Ghosts of Malabar Farm
It was 1 degree C when we set out on the Ferguson Falls trail at Malabar Farms State Park here in Ohio. There were nine of us hikers today.
On the ground, a dusting of freshly fallen snow from the night before painted the stark Ohio forrest with a thin veneer of white.
Our group was led by “Nelson” — a tall, lanky individual with a folder of readings from author Louis Bromfield and others.
He stops every now and tells short tales about specific features along the trails. …
I call BS on the “Three Meals a Day” philosophy -
It may be total marketing bullshit:
The following has worked for me.
It may not work for you.
I’m wired a little weird, so maybe this doesn’t work for most people.
But this is what I’ve discovered about my body at age 69.
I’m pretty sure the human body only really needs to eat once a day.
My body actually likes it better on one meal a day.
It apparently functions better too, on just about any level you can name.
I discovered this after retiring.
Free-agent (aka: retired). I've turned back into a teenager! (Except without all the angst… better hardware, too).