ellenspictures

Category: the world as we experience it

waiting for the second that something will change or maybe not.

Blade Runner. Great movie. Classic. We saw it again recently. A reminder of the perceptions of life that we hold onto as we cruise through it. Maybe not in a futuristic vehicle, but maybe it is – if you time slice automobiles from the time you were born, to now – hey, by the time you are my age, they do look futuristic. They still don’t fly through the air, except in bad circumstances.

That’s another story. Chaotic. Strange. Wake me up when this movie is over.

But sometimes things happen and you can’t wake up from it, and you can’t get away from it. It just is how it is. I have experienced that. More than once. Yeah, life sucks sometimes.

Disease, divorce, death – the three “D’s” that you get told by counselors that say these are major deals in your life. Of course your own death isn’t likely to affect you in a big way, just other people who are left behind. And that is yet another story. Been there, done that. No amount of experience prepares you.

Things get put on your radar that weren’t there just a minute or two before. Stuff like that. That is when we don’t want change to happen. It is a “please, just let me BE” kind of appeal. I’m not ready for the great up yonder yet. We don’t get to decide that, Silly. Haven’t you figured that out yet? So, nobody wants to face that, but yet we face it every day. We just send it under the gray matter. Fear of “it” in any representation.

Clowns. Monsters. Deep space. Any abyss – beings and places you cannot know simply because you cannot see or touch what is within. Let’s take clowns. Underneath all of that make up, wigs, baggy clothes, big shoes and those big red noses is something you cannot understand. Oh, and yeah. There’s the teeth part. Big teeth. “The clowns are waiting, I cannot sleep.”

Thanks Stephen King. Master of bringing you your worst nightmares in print. You are compelled to NOT put the book down until you get through to the end.

I think that if a dark future is defined for you, and you are told this, it makes you realize that you are not in control here. You are definitely NOT in control. Sometimes you go down the river in Egypt – de Nile. Or your mind chops it up into itty-bitty pieces. At some point, the removal of the perceived control makes you angry. It makes you lose it. Yeah. Lose control. Oh yeah… never actually had it, did you? So, get pissed off, get over it and call me in the morning.

Living in the past lately, for some strange reason I call it studying the past. Suddenly, the 1960’s are fascinating. Maybe clinging is a better word. Maybe not.

Day to day, for comfort, we delude ourselves into thinking that everything is fine. It’s a self-protection, this calm of the moment. A womb. We sit in it and watch the world go by. Then the tap on the shoulder.

Imagine riding along on I-10 one minute, and crunched between vehicles the next. Split second. Bastante.

Don’t forget. Joy happens, too. Learning that you will be a parent, then waiting the appointed time before that actually happens.

The split second you see the new little person, made of 50% you, emerging into the world – now that’s joy! Let’s not think of other possibilities. Be in the moment. It’s important. Let’s just think that things will be fine and the miracle of life will be right in front of our very eyes.

Experience teaches us lessons of dubiousness and as we have more of those experiences, we get more dubious. It’s as simple as that.

I have been accused of being “negative”. Maybe when I am speaking with people who are close to me, it is the fact that I feel that I can speak freely. Well, maybe I can’t as much as I thought. Live and learn. There was innocence before the fall.

My life experience unfolds every day.   Everyone on this planet experiences this as long as they are still breathing.

Revisiting what I did once, thinking back about it, I felt like I was wandering in the forest, to be honest. I look at these old photos and wonder what happened to these girls who were friends back in 7th grade.

Mostly, I was afraid of my mother. I was always trying to escape her grip of control. She didn’t want me to wear shoes with no socks. She did not want me to wear make-up. She did not want me to shave my legs or arm pits. For God’s sake, I was looking like a baby gorilla! What a dork – wearing socks and clunky shoes (oh yeah, she didn’t want me to wear cool shoes – only those that were “supportive”). No make up, no eye liner, no lipstick – Frosted Malt or Sugar and Ice – the two popular ones at the time so you could look like “Twiggy”. Right. See me in that dress. I absolutely did NOT look like Twiggy. I had curly hair, when styles were straight. My mom kept cutting my hair, when I wanted it long. What did we agree on? Not much.

We finally had it out when I was in seventh grade. Yeah. She took a slap at me and I caught her hand in mid-air. I said, “Don’t do that to me ever again.” Line in the sand. That was the day she realized that I was bigger and stronger than she was. And she didn’t physically do that again. She used her mind instead… oh yeah, and her voice. Boy could she scream and yell.

She was kind of a “Dr. Jekyl – Mrs. Hyde”. But eventually, we knew the relationship boundaries and we got as okay as we could — and she did rise to help and support at grim times, when she was most needed. She could behave like a normal human being if she put her mind to it. A real normal one. That was what perplexed everyone about her. But underneath, she was a normal person, trying to stay that way. It was probably clowns that drove her into her spells.

So I digress.

Childhood. Adolescence. Adulthood. I guess all I wanted was some credibility.  Well, here I am.

I’ve been so trying not to repeat history, that it hurts. Maybe I have gone a bit too far, but then, you are never sure.

We have those moments in our lives that we will look back on, embarrassed, but knowing that it was the best that we could do at the time with what capabilities we had and being what people we were, we can take comfort. We were children.   It’s okay. We can’t go back and change this. Only in the movies, but then it gets complicated when this happens, as we have seen.

But we had fun and we did crazy stuff. We snuck out and rode around, and met boys at the movies, and made out in the dark. We probably did a lot of things that millions of other kids did around the world. That’s why I love that movie, “The Boat that Rocked” AKA “Pirate Radio”.   It captured how we were – on the brink of something revolutionary. It was great! The British Rock invasion… The Soul Train… Girl groups – yeah, Lezley Gore – It’s My Party and I will Cry if I Want! Love it!

One thing, though – we can’t go back. Would we want to go back? No, not really. Some of those days weren’t so much fun. But what I think is that we should appreciate every day. I know it’s hard for people facing tough times.

We can’t magic away the tough times. But if you are just needing to change your attitude, then you really should think about it.

I am. Every day. Every day.

June 4, 2015
decisions, challenges, keeping focus and still worrying, after all these years

personally, i haven’t changed a bit…

all these years. yep. it is a fact, day by day, we never know what comes around the corner.   finding eggs, after hunting for them all over the place… an early adopter. pastel colored eggs were and still are attractive.   not sure why that is. early exposure.

in my life, if I think of it at a certain level of abstraction, there have been puzzles to solve. always.

I can also remember bits and pieces of early childhood vividly. sometimes the smells. sometimes just the scenes. sometimes the voices of my grandmother and mother, talking together, drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes, or with my godmothers, always doing some sort of project.

it was an interesting early life, always something going on – activity – not much sitting around – mostly, inventive, clever, fun. there was always fun factor. enjoyment was king. maybe since it was just a few years after the war ended, they recognized the value of enjoyment and fun factor.

I grew up around a lot of adults, and kids, sometimes, but mostly, it was adult-oriented – and sometimes alone – left to play by myself, or supposedly napping – sometimes I did nap, but mostly not.

A little uncertain of whoever it was taking the picture. Dad was, too?

I kind of like puzzles. Hard to solve ones, but satisfying if I do.  The life challenges, however, can begin to wear you down – you need a re-charge and once in awhile – you get it, that, sometimes a new challenge is actually energizing, not draining. Change of scenery.

Just when you are greatly comforted, that’s when something happens. Almost if comfortable is a warning sign. This is the anthem of the anxious. Perhaps, I am a bit anxious, but calmly so, if that makes any sense. To those of you out there who share this, it will make sense.

but worrying is genetic, I’ve decided. still haven’t been able to Zen around it… guess I got that from my Dad, he was chief of the worriers – did it for all of us – but, I guess, I take his place in that.  Must surround myself with Zen people. Chill. That’s it. But not easy.

May 21, 2015
the dimensions of time and trouble

Tactical.

That’s a word that really deals with the immediate situation. The “situation room”. You have a problem, you deal with it, you make the problem go away (for now), you get sleep at night. Fine.

Dealing with long-term chronic illnesses – now that’s a concept where we apply both the tactical and the strategic.

So much possibility…

Remember. None of us leave this planet alive.

We go somewhere else and leave the shell. We all hope that the somewhere else is a good place, and not “the bad place”. Sometimes we might rightly feel that some of our human comeuppance has been already held on the planet – if you listen to the news, you think “wow, this is really some weird shit…” – “what will they think of next?”

Very complex. Very confusing. That’s why they call it “faith”. You have to have it in order to survive through those rough patches.

In the meantime, we deal with the strategic (eat healthy, get regular activity – not too much, not too little, just right…) and read all the research that comes out about what we’re doing – coffee is good, coffee is bad; one drink a day is good, drinking is bad; eggs and butter are bad, eggs and butter are good; carbs are bad, you need some carbs, just not some others… good grief…

If you can’t remember your password, you have early onset Alzheimer’s — really? Which password of the thousand that I have set, over the years, so that if/when someone hacks me, they won’t hack ALL of my accounts (naïve)… I am supposed to remember those. yeah. right.

Sometimes I am convinced that there is this great “anxiety generator” out there, making market for the yoga studios – there is something in it for everybody, right? Everybody has to eat. The people that don’t figure this out, and that they have to work to get food end up under the bridge living in cardboard boxes – and don’t call me paranoid, it just seems that there is always someone living under the bridge in cardboard boxes, no matter what we do to try to keep that from happening.

Same thing with the jerks who “beat and cheat” – kids, wives, girlfriends, whatever – no matter how it is quelled on one hand, someone decides that they won’t support the quelling anymore, so it builds up. Harper’s Bizarre. Serial what-cha-ma-call-em’s…

Oh, I digressed.

Back to “long-term chronic diseases” — So you get pushed and pulled by media and news reports. You try not to scare the shit out of yourself by reading too much of this “non” information on the net, complete with ads for drugs that look at what you’re lookin’ at and configure it “just for you” – lovely – and you may wonder, does it really matter after all? Because, in the end of our time here on earth, we will either lose that battle with some sort of “long-term chronic disease” or else we will stroke out, fall down and go boom, have a coronary, be hit over the head, stabbed, or whatever happens that will take us out in an “acute incident or episode”.

Whatever. I guess I wonder why freak out? Maybe its a wobbly. We have not yet reached the Zen of our existence. It’s maybe because we are not getting our way. Its the anger because our dreams of what we thought we would be don’t turn out as we expected. We have to go the other way, not the way we wanted to go, both figuratively and literally.

We live in the clouds the rest of the time, floating through life day by day, as time accelerates to the event horizon, the older you get, the less time you have, so you should appreciate when you wake up and take a breath every day – and make that coffee that smells and tastes so good – and go places, do things, kiss butterflies, chase dragonflies, love your loved ones, and of course, try not to leave a legend that is like “Ichabod Crane”, but rather one that everyone remembers fondly…

Maybe it is just how we are, and we are realizing more about it every day. I wish I could be back in time to interview my relatives who are now unreachable such that I could understand their thoughts, but I can’t right now.

In the meantime, it’s live life to the fullest, get over the bumps in the road, ask for help moving the boulders and love your loved ones, telling them you love them as much as you can, as often as possible.

It’s important for your family – and of course – for your history… and theirs, too.

May 18, 2015