Anonther Time

They say poetry is the language of love.

I say poetry is the language of the subconscious.

We think too much.  Seeking control which we do not have.  Do not own.

We try to hold on…. To things.  To land.  To thoughts.  Claiming them as our own.

They are not ours.

We have expectations and emotions.  Like anger.  And rage.  That come from a place of discontent and fear.  Turning us into monsters.  Or, worse yet, machines.

I see black and white.  This way or that.  Afraid to believe I can have it all.

I can have all that my heart desires and not feel guilty.  It’s not true.  Not yet.  I have to work on the guilt part.  Why should I have it all when others are suffering?  Why should I get to be happy, content, loved, and financially secure?  Maybe it doesn’t go along with my training.  My story of upbringing.

I think about my mom.  About my dad.  Do they still exist in some form?

My mom always believed in reincarnation.  But not me.  I cannot appreciate beliefs such as past lives.

Some times I want to live a simpler life.

Small town Americana.  Opie and Andy.  Sorry Aunt Bee.  You are not in my story.

I want to hold on to the illusion of a land where all children grow up feeling safe and loved.  Where even in their worst nightmares, children never know the feeling of being beaten or shot.

Perhaps I am seeking the comfort of a fun close-knit family.  The Brady Bunch could work.  A mother, father, sisters and brothers.  I think, in some capacity, we all want to be taken care of.  To feel safe and secure, loved and cherished.  Memories fade to the rickety back porch at my cousin’s house.  There was something special there.  Something like family and the carefree days of childhood.

Maybe I’m searching for something I never had.  Not to the degree I needed anyway.

I felt like an outsider growing up.  I was different than the rest of my family.  I wondered if I was adopted.  I wondered if I was invisible.

I don’t have to stay a little girl forever.  At least not in that way.  Now people can see the 100 % woman I have grown up to be.  Yet I’m still a bit of a tomboy.  Whatever that means these days.

I’d like to end by sharing these three questions I saw on a Ted Talk the other day:

  1. If you knew you were going to succeed at whatever you did, what would it be?
  2. If you knew you had 100 million dollars in the bank, what would you do or be?
  3. If you knew you only had 6 months to live, what would you do or be?

Goodbye for now.

 

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Mixed Signals

All of the good stuff comes when I’m zooming past interesting houses on my sporty little ice-blue bike.  Or walking in the woods.  By the time I get my fingers to the keys, the thoughts, the poetic words, have vanished.  They seemed so good.  So powerful at the time.  I haven’t figured out a way to hold onto them.

My flow is connected to movement not sitting.  Sitting, butt sore, in a hard chair in a busy coffee shop.  My inspiration is in the breeze.  In the trees.  In the hearts and stories of the people I meet.  There is too much energy here.  Too  many others’ thoughts and the thinkers thinking them.  All messing up my signal to that place in the Universe in which I find connection.

Yet we make stuff up all day.  Everyday.  Our minds living in a fantasy world.  Here I sit watching the people.  Putting them into categories.  Or not.  Figuring out what energy I can connect with in this contrived climate-controlled  environment.

Copyright Suzanne Norton 2018

 

 

 

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Lemon Swirl, The Good Ole Days

Remember when times were simpler?  Sitting around on a  Sunday afternoon with no cares, watching television.  The boys were young. They played dress up, guitar, and legos.  Our adopted grandma lived next door.  The arbor, suntea, freshly mowed grass and the smell of vegetables cooking on the grill.  These were summer days.  Summer days on the weekend.  As long as we were out working in the yard.  Or playing.  There was never any green haze.  It was only inside that I saw it.  Felt it.  Tried to shield my sons from it.

I don’t think the green haze could exist in nature.  In nature there was love.  Although this didn’t resonate with the oldest.  He didn’t care for nature as he got older.  Allergens and insects made him prefer indoor spaces and books.   He was continually whisked off to more exciting places, with much more adventure than our small town backyard.

I could pass all of my time daydreaming.  Our youngest son would sit on the end of the slide doing the same.   I miss those boys.  I miss the men they have grown into.  My friend makes every effort to keep her family together.  I am not so demanding.  I want them to make their own choices.   They know I want to be more connected.  I also want to respect their need to form identities separate from me.  I imagine somewhere deep down in their souls this severing, growing up, is painful for them as well.  Our culture sees it as normal.  Not so much in other cultures where children live at home until they get married and then sometimes beyond.  Is this what I am wishing for? No. Just more connection.

I remembered my dreams but have not written them down so they have drifted away.  For now anyway.  I wonder when love will walk into my life.  And why it hasn’t.  I will ask my Jungian counselor tomorrow.   People with addictions have walked into my life over the last few months.  So that is interesting.  I haven’t resisted it.  A few friendships have been made.  The others seem to have moved on.  I have a principle not to date an addict.  I cannot go through that again.  I can’t take a chance on someone who is clean sliding back into an addiction.  The behavior is too erratic, unhealthy -mentally, emotionally, socially, and physically.

Thoughts of lemon swirl ice-cream from the Dairy Ripple float by carrying me safely away from unsavory memories that attempt to implant themselves.  The  establishment still stands in that little town in eastern Illinois where I grew up.  A place and time  the Sundays of my quiet childhood.

It’s time to meditate now.  I am easily distracted.  In some way distractions make me happy.  A happy form of procrastination.   Maybe I will treat myself to ice-cream today.  I hope I can find lemon swirl in my middle of Missouri town.

 

Copyright Suzanne Norton 2018

 

 

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Life is Love

Here I am again.  Decisions to make. Dreams to recall.  A breeze to savor.  Life to love.  I think my life may pass in front of me again.  I am alive.  Remember that.  Whatever living means.  Whatever being human and existence in its whole means.

When I am here I am always content.  In front of my open window in the mornings when the weather is perfect.  The state of mind I long to live in all of my hours of all of my days.

I asked him what kind of cancer it was.  He didn’t respond.  Does he live in a perpetual dark place still.  So sad to remain living in a dungeon when you have other options.  Options to live in the light.

Do whatever you want she said.  It caught me off guard.  Is it really okay, I replied?

I don’t like quotation marks.  Who has time.  Where are the poets?  We need to congregate.  Can they come and live with me.  Am I making the right decision?

I like to make plans so I have something to cancel.  Have structure then bust it up for freedom.  Openness.  No commitments.  Just nature.  And writing.  Eating healthy food and drinking tea.  Coffee shops and new places to explore.  I think someone talked to me about that last night.  In my dreams, that is.  I didn’t go out.  Instead I spent hours in my bed.  Alone.  I was fine.

There were children again.  A girl of maybe 8, a toddler girl, a little boy walking along a busy road.  I told them to stay over to the side, worried about their safety.  Then J Lo dropped a little boy off and I was the one who felt compelled to hang with him.  No one else even acknowledge him.  He was supposed to be a star or the Dali Lama, or someone of significance but no one but me noticed.  He was bald and maybe 4 years old.  I didn’t exactly want to hang with him but my strong sense of responsibility told me I should.  It ended up being kind of fun.  Then J Lo swooped back in in her superhero outfit and whisked him away.

In another dream my friend Grant was in my bedroom with me.  I was sleeping on the bed.  He laid down on the floor on my pallet of blankets.  Then I moved down next to him.  I wanted to be close but not in a sexual way.  He seemed uncomfortable with me being this close so I was bummed.  We didn’t talk about it.  Someone came to the door and yelled housekeeping!  I didn’t say anything and she came into the apartment.  I got up and yelled get out!!!  She got right out.  I thought this was kind of funny.  Later it happened again, with a different person.   Then two or three people came together.  I came out of the bedroom.  Now there was a couple who was in the bedroom with Grant still there as well.  I didn’t know them.

When the housekeepers came in and I came out of my room  they said, we see that man.  I thought now they are going to tell everyone I have a man in my room.  I didn’t say anything.  Didn’t say, he’s just a friend.

They left and Grant told me to stay in the bedroom while he and the other two came out.  I felt bad.  I didn’t want to be left out.  I didn’t want to stay in the bedroom.

When I came out they had decorated for a birthday or party or something and there were presents.  The couple left without saying anything and Grant didn’t say anything.  I assumed the presents and party were for me but no one said anything.  So I felt sad.

Now here I sit.  Realizing I need to get dressed and head to the woods.  When you have friends they rely on you.  I can’t skip my morning activity of going to the Dharma Center, as they call it, or the Buddha Church.  They will be expecting me.  I have to manage my time well.  I don’t know how it is to have people who desire my presence.  I actually do but not to this extent.  The extent to which they have both told my how important it is that I am in their lives now.  They have cultivated this new friend group which I am an integral member of.  Isn’t this what I wished for.  I don’t always now how to accept the good stuff.  The compliments, the inclusion.  It usually seems hard to me to believe or receive is more like it.

I am in vacation mind/body mode this morning.  It is so yummy.  I am reminded of being in love with Brian.  Those days, weeks, after returning home and how life was heaven.  In my mind and heart.  I am reminded of my Rumi poet from Slovenia who I met online.  He was so romantic, wrote me poetry and invited me to visit his country.  I wonder if that offer still stands.

I hate abrupt endings.  I’ve got to go.

Copyright Suzanne Norton 2018

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Queen in Her Castle

I am a queen in her castle.  It took me a long time to get here.  Virginia helped me.  And Alice. And Natalie.  Thank you.  Thank you.  Tonight, Audrey and Gloria share my bed.  I’m not always good about giving them attention.  But they wait patiently.  I avoid all of them most of the time.  I’m not sure why.  But they don’t seem to mind.

I don’t cry much anymore.  Soon I will be able to turn the music up loud.  No one above me, below or beside me.  How will that be?  Maybe I’ll cry.  No one will hear me.  How will that be?

I saw the moon low in the sky tonight, the color of gold.  I wanted to go to it.  It was hanging beneath the tree branches and needed a boost.  I wanted to hold it.  Lift it up to its proper place.

How long since I walked in the woods alone?  That is all I need to do.  Instead of filling the hours of each day with busyness.  Just let it alone and see what magic happens.

“A woman must have money and a room of her own.  So long as you write what you wish to write, that is all that matters.”  Thank you Virginia.  I have taken your words to heart.

I will leave now.  My dreams are calling.

Copyright Suzanne Norton 2018

 

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Just More Stuff

Good morning Dear Reader,

I have been sleeping very soundly lately which is so wonderful.  It is such a different beast to sleep heavy through the night without waking to use the bathroom.  I’m in my usual spot.  In front of my window.  Feet propped on the windowsill meditation cushions behind my back.  Thinking about my dreams, how I found my house, and how I don’t have much longer to savor what I love about my home of the past four years.  I’m also noticing that clinging seems to be gone.  The strong desire for a partner.  Trying to go after or hold onto someone who is not reciprocating, getting angry when they are the not exhibiting the same energy as I am.  Now I say, whateva.  No worries and go about my business.  I’ve stop trying to figure other people out.  Stopped expecting they will have different behavior than I’ve already noticed.   Hopefully this will help draw more of the right people to me.

Fresh air and a connection with the outdoors are extremely important to me in a home.  Allowing natural light in and not feeling closed in.  One house I looked at had several of the windows sealed shut.  Creepy and probably against code.  That wouldn’t work for me.  My new home has all new vinyl windows.  I was exstatic about this as I’ve only been seeing homes with old windows with flaky paint that are janky to open, if they do open.  Every one I tried worked.  I found my home yesterday.  Part of me is very excited, the other part says, don’t get too excited.  It hasn’t happened.  Maybe it’s not real.  Then I try to imagine what it would be like coming home on a Friday night after dancing or sitting at my dining room table eating.  Yest, it has an actual dining room.  A nice size living room, a kitchen I like with a window over the kitchen sink looking out into the back yard.  A back door.  A very large master bedroom with bath.  Laundry on the same level.  No basement.  Three bedrooms total.  Two bath.  All things that I wanted.  My bedroom can also serve as the meditation room.  It used to be the garage so there is plenty of space there.  That will still leave me with a living room, so I can keep my couch.  I was wondering about that.  I will put my table in front of the windows I think so I can sit a laptop there if I want to watch movies.  Which I never do but may like to on occasion.  My roommate may want to as well.  I’ll have to find him/her next.  I will need to revamp my Craig’s List ad a bit now that I have found a place.  My room is on the other end of the house from the other two bedrooms, which is also something I wanted.  I’m thinking one bedroom can be a guest room/shared office.  That way if one of us wants to have overnight company they have a place to sleep.  There will be so much to talk about when I interview for a roommate.  I need to start making a list.  Talk to others who have done this to make sure and get the important questions in there.

Some more things on my list that this has…..it is owned by the same person who owns my apartment complex!  Which is wonderful because he is a great person to rent from and attentive to maintenance issues.  Maybe I can still use the pool and the field!

I drove by the house last night after midnight on my way home from dancing.  There were people out in their front yard a few houses down on the other side of the street having a party, being loud and saying f this f that.  Very rough around the edges.  The kind of people that make me nervous.  People I worry are angry, probably abusive.  These will be my neighbors….?  You can’t pick your neighbors. I think I will call the CPD to see if there are any calls to this, my new block.  I also need to check utilities.  I can also stop by the house and ask the person living there as I met her when we went to look at the house.  She was very open and asked if I had any questions.

Okay, onto my dreams.  The one that is prominent for me is the one about Mr. Salmons.  He was acting like he liked me.  Putting is arm around me and stuff then we saw his son, an adult.  Not a minute after I said, “Your wife is with him.”  That changed things up.  Turns out he was still married so he didn’t want her to see us together.  I didn’t like what was happening.  That he was acting sweet on me while he was still married.  I wan’t interested in that game so I just mozied on.   It seems like this scenario happened a few times.  Then I was at an art gallery.  My sister was there.  She wanted to take a picture of some art so she and some other people moved it to another location with better lighting.  I find this funny now but in the dream I was uncomfortable with their actions.  After they had moved it, I told them.  It was about composition and lighting.  I’m not even really sure what the object was.  Later I was in a home where a lot of different people lived.  For some reason I only had a towel on.  I went down the hall to a room with three guys in it.  One guy liked me but I din’t like him, for more than a friend anyway.  So he was pleased to see my towel-clad self in is room.  The three of us talked.  I was going somewhere then we all came to the consensus that I should put some clothes on first.  There was still some component of Mr. Salmons there.  He was on the periphery at this point.  In real life I texted him this a.m., told him he was in my dream last night but didn’t give any details.  I may be doing that thing again that I said I no longer did.  Extending energy towards someone who has not shown reciprocal energy.  We’ll see.  I know I can let it go if he does not step forward.  I think my heart has had to harden a bit.

I have been deeply concerned about what I’m hearing about immigrant children and families.  I don’t know if it is true that they are being separated when they try to come to the U.S. and kept in fenced in enclosures in large buildings.  I hope these things are not true and need to do some more research.  I want to help in the area of human rights and gun regulation.   Maybe I could do something in the line of education around these issues.  I have already done one training.  But I know I can’t have a desk job.  I almost wrote death job!  That would be the death of my soul to sit at a desk all day.

On that note I need to move on now.  I’m so tired after having a crazy active day yesterday then going dancing.  Although very active days are probably my favorite.

Ta ta for now.

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Thursday Dreaming

Maybe I am actually invisible.  Or my last post was really bad.  So many tags I added and not one like.  Interesting, but not a problem really.  I don’t need the acknowledgement like I used to.  I could write in my notebook but I want to feel connected. Or at least imagine that I am.  I am feeling wonderful in my usual spot.  I hear the birds, hear a few people talking, cars driving by a street over, and feel the morning breeze on my bare arms. Mornings are amazing.

I had a great night’s sleep.  Sleeping from 11:30 last night until 5:30 this morning, when my kitties woke me up to be fed.  5:30 is the new 6:30 for some unfortunate reason.  I gave in and let them have it.  I slept so soundly until then.   I went back to sleep until just a bit ago, 7:30.  I decided not to set my alarm last night and just see what happens.  I decided to do less today.  I am happy.  Content.  Relaxed.

I dreamed about being at a school.  Something very normal for me to dream.   I often dream I am in a school or a house, sometimes a car.  There were two adorable little African American children I was hanging out with.  They were two year old twins, a boy and a girl.  Then there dad came in.  He was a big man.  We talked for a bit.  I realize I am still tired and think I could easily fall back to sleep.  Maybe people don’t want the truth.  They like is sugar coated.  I am thinking about my post from yesterday.  Maybe I really need to go back and edit it for typos.  This morning my eyes shut as I shift back into thinking about my dreams.

I write them down to be more in tune with my subconscious.  In another dream people were outside of a University, myself included.  Someone came along and said there was going to be a microburst type of a storm.  It wasn’t that exactly but he said it had hit just a short distance away and would hit where we were in just a few minutes.  He said we all needed to go inside the building for shelter.  I was having a shoe issue.  Which ones to wear.  I had two pair with me.  The pair I use for slippers, I chose to leave outside.  When I went in I found it hard to find a place because there were so many people lining the walls- seated.  I set down in the mix of choir people.  They all had the same color shirts on and were singing very loudly.  I found it annoying but wanted to be safe from the  intense storm coming.

In another dream there were men I knew building and extra room in a house or public space, I’m not sure.  They built it very fast.   I didn’t like it because now it was closed in.  It had been a back porch sun room type area.   Now there wasn’t as much light and it was closed in feeling.

In another dream we were in a small building.  It was one guy’s birthday.  He said all he wanted was a hug.  He hugged another guy from behind then said he really wanted to be on the receiving end of a hug.  The guy thought about it but could not do it.  Something bothered him about hugging another man.  I was ready to step in with a hug but the man left feeling deflated.  I felt so bad.  The rest of us would have given him a hug.

That’s all for dreams for now.  I am hungry and still tired.

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