"I'm negative." I can't make her be something, though I painfully want to. The negativity and instant mood change pulls me into Ann nightmare territory. The sarcasm feels like a threat and an ego attack. The whole syndrome feels like a failure, and it makes me afraid for her future. And mine. I often interpret her dark gloomy comments as manipulative guilt trips, and I let them goad me into an inappropriately peer-level response. I'm trying to respect her perspective in the conflicts with celi (and sometimes the others). I'm working on logically and compassionately holding the little ones accountable too. But also I still feel like sometimes she is just plain mean to them, although not necessarily on purpose. I feel like sometimes I neglect the others because I'm putting so much energy towards her. I think I have a certain kind of letting go to do, and I think it's going to be hard but maybe not as hard as I think. I think it might just feel extremely weird for a while. I want to start running. I don't mean away, I mean actually running. I think I have to let go of trying to "teach" her so much, of having to be right, of having to make the point right now and have her accept it, of demanding that her personality be what I think it is or should be, of insisting that she be a reflection of my ideal of ME. Of equating her with my wife. I will have to completely rewrite the way I parent if this is going 011213 Be curious. Read widely. Try new things. I think a lot of what people call intelligence just boils down to curiosity. Say yes to everything. I have a lot of trouble saying no, to an pathological degree -- whether to projects or to interviews or to friends. As a result, I attempt a lot and even if most of it fails, I've still done something. Assume nobody else has any idea what they're doing either. A lot of people refuse to try something because they feel they don't know enough about it or they assume other people must have already tried everything they could have thought of. Well, few people really have any idea how to do things right and even fewer are to try new things, so usually if you give your best shot at something you'll do pretty well. hot 022613 9:49 011313 Having one of those moments. Sunday, dark out, warm light in here. thin layer of ice on the ground out there. Music on shuffle, kitchen noisy. Kids making bouncy balls. Eating odds and ends. Hummus. Shrimp. Millie made clam chowder for her and her sisters. Just sold ungainly exercise equipment out of the basement for $60; held up the cash with a flourish and said "Texas Road House tomorrow!" and everyone cheered. I guess that's irresponsible, but. Not to be too starry-eyed; sometimes we snap at each other, sometimes I nag. Drink your milk! Celi cries when somebody doesn’t apologize for elbowing her in the eye. But the balance is pretty much okay. Just another of those clumsy, bumping-into-each-other-in-the-kitchen type moments when I just love them, and the fear and uncertainty recede like a moonlit, hissing tide. Bread machine just beeped. Gotta go spread butter & honey. maybe 022813 11:54 the people in the audience don’t think they’re doing anything but watching the show and talking secretly and laughing and wondering when they’re going to duck out for a snack or a fuck when this thing’s over; they can leave; they know they’re going to leave any time and it’s okay; there’s nothing really invested except the price of the ticket which is sunk, which is gone, which is way less than the negligible price of their shoes; I mean, they’re here, aren’t they? in that sense they’ve made it while the people actually acting--do you realize how actually dusty and rough those boards actually are?--are acting out the fake real story a thousand times more real than the real fake one going on in the lofty balcony heights beyond their vision’s horizon, beyond the cruel glare of the lights; don’t even know the fake is real; what we pretend to be we become (some people seem to cross back and forth between the audience and the stage) intellect 031213 11:06:13 am The sun just came out behind me and to the left, where the Lake curves away towards busier and more congested climes. I am sitting in the special balcony of Alterra, for the first time ever--or if not, then the first time I can remember. I always wanted to sit here. Every wool-capped, shoulder-bagged, fuzzy-faced, introverted douche-bag that walks into this place with Macbook under arm pokes his head in here to see if it's available. It isn't, you vomitous ciphers. I'm in here. Get the fuck out. Honestly, it's so self-consciousness-exacerbating, I don't know if I'd even sit here again, given the chance. freaky 022613 5:55 pm #testing #stone "Say yes to everything. I have a lot of trouble saying no, to an pathological degree -- whether to projects or to interviews or to friends. As a result, I attempt a lot and even if most of it fails, I've still done something." I forgot who said that. intellect 031213 11:18 am The initial scene most often reflects a situation lying closer to the level of consciousness, but which still contains references to the problematic. In many instances, on the basis of an initial scene we are already able to find important indications of how and in what direction the solution of the inner conflict could develop. Subsequent images lead out of the exclusive predominance of the conscious level and to deeper layers in the person, having unconscious contents. These images often have a chaotic character and testify to unleashed energies. #stone just go on. 031813 11:11:10 pm #gull I'm trying to a combination of remember and recreate the classic teh-dsa, partly because of a suggestion, a merest shrug of a hint, from Peggy that made me go, "Why the hell not?" After all these years of insisting on evolution and innovation, it kind of feels nice to give myself permission to just go back and open up a dusty old book, as it were. And see what's still alive in there. And see what's still alive. SO far I have this: - the old labels, even though they’re out of order and kind of look funny because you can’t edit the label colors in OS X, and they wouldn’t translate properly if shifted into 9, but, yeah whatever - the 64 main folders (from the original cards) - a “pickfromhere” script in any Finder toolbar, in case I want to use the pick a card method anywhere - getting ready to make renameable aliases, still deciding whether to park them on the desktop (somehow feels more authentic) or in an “untitled folder” - looking back through some broadsides to try to rekindle my memory of how I actually used it... - people can be folders - I think I’ll let non-labeled clips be any kind of object--kind of like a lesser arcana - trouts often (but apparently not always) have a fishy-sounding name, followed by a verse-looking number (I believe I used to base those off of the clock) - pigeons of course have nouns - which the hell was boy/girl qua pink/blue? - how did I deal with story-like streams? Did they go in a person? become that person? were their clip titles automatic, was that the instance where you don’t have to make up a whole new masking-type name? - I think with clippingnamer I was able to drop blind into a folder and still have the chance to name the clipping. Don’t think I can do that here. Should I drop to a staging area, rename, and then move to a folder? - Geez, at one point I actually had the actual folders right on the desktop. So many changes happened so gradually, I think I should shoot for as close as possible to the original spirit, using original techniques and materials where they seem clear, useful, and elegant, and then go ahead and unclench a little about the exact picayune details. - yep it’s all coming back to me now. Little things like the way gulls talk to themselves, spatial experimentation leads to different forms of spreads and revelations--some transient, some that stick around and stay useful for generations. The big thing though is that it is very possible for the mechanics of it all to distract you from the meditative benefit. It happened to me yesterday. I was so excited to have an assignment and to see the rebirth of my big old baby phoenix, I spent all day futzing, forgot to eat, let Celi be on the iPad all day, and spent $50 on a font. (The font thing really burned until the Bold Monday guy sent me a version with the proper spacing; for a minute there I thought I had completely thrown a half day’s pay away on complete shit!) Anyway, point is, yes play with it, but also breathe. Heed Peggy’s reminder that when asking yourself a question, saying a spell (she called it a prayer, but whatever) like “How can I be the rain?”, you don’t want to compartmentalize it. You have to walk with that question in all arenas, not just the cute, the personal, the closed, or the symbolic. Otherwise it’s just symbolic, onanistic, cute, masturbatory--you know what I mean. Oh yeah. And remember to do something good for somebody every day. Like the other day when you shoveled Jackie & Marcie’s driveway and suddenly you weren’t so consumed by the fire of impotence and rage towards Mr Lexus-driving Smug-ass You’re-a-second-class-annoyance I-just-don’t-get-it-at-all Lang. #crow Write about communal baths here. 031213 11:27 The mind-body connection – exercise, meditation, positive attitude [ gratitude ] – is recognized as a benefit in treatment success. #stone #healing intellect 031213 11:38 am In other words, an experience of the Self is not enough.  This experience, this moment of meaning, needs to be acknowledged and recognized by therapist and client, even without words.  As in the relationship between infant and mother there is a need for mutual recognition of what is new emerging from the psyche. The baby may take a new developmental step many times before it is recognized and validated by both the baby and mother figure.  It is with the shared recognition and validation in the mother-child relationship that the baby’s emergent development is anchored in the personality.  One of the tasks of the therapist-midwife in the temenos, or therapeutic container, is to be aware enough to recognize the underlying process in the Sandplay. #stone mistakes 022613 10:08 021413 heard at mhs: ‘he started liking all my Facebook statuses, and I was like, if you have something to tell me just tell me, and then he texted me, and... Yeah!’ *somewhat retrained girlish excitement* spunk 022613 3:51 pm #testing I believe I've finally got it. This is so cool. girlish excitement 022613 10:08 022213 I think I'm a closet top. intellect 031213 11:35 am Dora Kalff, the originator of Sandplay Therapy, once told me she “did nothing” when she worked.  Then she said, “It is harder to do nothing than to do something.”  #stone hitch up 030913 10:24 #crow She has worked for a long time for a porn mag &/or site. Kind of a raunchy but relatively mainstream one. Wet ready beavers, in the Vonnegut taxonomy. But she’s lately gotten kind of jaded and squicked out on the whole sexualization of everything all the time, so she finally quit her job, much to her manager’s chagrin, and become a drummer. What does she learn? How does she transform her career? What comes full circle, and what spirals? (Match it with a random pigeon.) how it works 022813 11:46 pm #elephant The elephant speaks. "You are not following anyone else's path." And yet he follows the path of his ancestry. The elephant is a hypocrite. And yet his progeny follow the path of his enormous footsteps. You, you who do not know the meaning of the word "forgive," you will forgive the elephant. what would success look like? 022613 5:53 pm #testing I am now going to place a random paragraph from the current vp document by using the "voo dsa" script, which is running from the TW scripts folder even though at the moment it doesn't have anything to do with TW. 031413 10:36 pm You are now free, and you can just do the first task -- after all, that’s all you can ever do. #stone conversation 022613 10:08 021613 Watching "Parting Glances" (1986) I just remembered part of my dream, was it last night? Had a man, a lover, a love. It was loose, untense, we were young-ish but I was me now, he had the most beautiful smile I think. And there I was at some party or gathering or just our house or someone's house, dancing with this young girl, someone's neice or cousin or daughter or something, and she was beautiful and had this huge young naive smile, and we were dancing all mock old fashioned like, you know like exaggeratedly formal, and laughing, and it was all so perfect because I just wasn't having to act any certain way. Exchanging wisdom, exchanging perspective, exchanging lives. And the energy of my man and our love permeated everything. spiraling 022613 9:51 012213 Megan puts little lies in some of her writing. She wrote to her mom that I put candy canes on the tree, but I didn't. She wrote at school that the cats' birthday was Oct. 17 and that we gave them milk, but it's not and we didn't. On the one hand, I appreciate artistic license. On the other hand, I am terrified she's going to turn into her mom. Also she wrote about times that I was yelling, that I crashed the car into a truck (actually it was a van and I know I told her that), and how little she got for Christmas. I feel low and hollow and resonant/sick in my gut. I'm in a Starbucks that's basically a glass box overlooking Hwy 100, surrounded by what *appear* to be *normal* people, young and mostly with their shit together, but who knows. I think I hear Van singing *come away with me* with norah. Going to go check that out. She also said her family isn't that exciting. She also said one time I went outside with them--only to sit in a chair and watch. She punctuated this with "whatever." I read her writing without telling her; I am also terrified of becoming myself with relation to her mother, with her. tea 031513 10:01 pm God I feel old. My hands look old. Not quite liver-spotted yet, nevertheless they’re veined and white and blue and rough and red and I’m about to call my highschool sweetheart because I *texted* her, yes that’s right, texted her and said I would, and I’m so headachey and tired I don’t even know if I’ll be able to have a coherent conversation, but life’s just not over yet and so I guess I have to just go on. 031213 10:51 am By wholeness is meant an attitude that goes beyond mutually exclusive opposites and strives for an integration of these opposites. It is the structure of wholeness which, beginning at birth, is the fundamental aspect of the human being and which Jung refers to as the Self. #stone 031413 12:35 pm You can be a good parent and let your kids play on the iPad, and you can be a bad parent with a house full of encyclopaedias. #stone okay fine 022613 3:39 pm #testing and the script works if there's one open041313 #gratitude Things i’m grateful for: Megan typing a goofy story about a boy discovering he’s a robot; she’s cracking herself up while listening to Libby read each word as it appears on the ipad screen. classic 032313 6:12:55 pm flatbreads sticking out of the toaster, ready to go down burgers roasting in a piping hot oven taters almost ready to be smashed mixed veggies "just the way i like them!" ready to make love to the steam daughters healthy and we're doing all right for now 022613 7:29 that works #testing This is really rad. So wherever you are, there’s always an expeditious way to start. If you’re totally out of the blue, just do the opener and go from there. If you’re in VP and want to branch off from something you see, create a link and then go on back to TW and continue to #tunnel if you want. If you’re in TW and you were tunneling but you kind of lost track, start over using #radial, and switch over to a tunnel if you want to. Basically it amounts to a way to hitch up TW as “edit mode” for VP. hard work 022613 3:12 pm #testing you suc0113 022613 Is there a way to get self-encouragement without the overdose of self-recrimination? Like, could we step outside the usual blind alley of "You just don't want it bad enough! You just don't work hard enough! You just sit there expecting something for nothing, and then you blame the world when your dreams don't magically materialize!" I mean, okay, I get it, you win, I'm right. But. What's the next step? not listening 022613 10:07 021113 just remembered this: how the Christian textbooks threw all these ’classics’ at the students with no context, preparation, or connection; how when I made them try to picture the specific action as we read _the pit and the pendulum_, we were just like the narrator himself, feeling his way along blindly, making egregious mistakes, not even aware of the magnitude or significance of them as he made them. aching 022613 9:50 011913 I’ve been screwing up quite a bit lately on dates and times and details. But the work situation is looking full of potential. Spiraling, spiraling.... great 030413 9:45 #crow #todo I have a writing assignment this week. It’s indulgent, yes, but I’m giving myself permission because I think it’s a healthy indulgence, and furthermore, Peggy asked me to do it and bring it back next week, so if that’s not a good enough excuse I don’t know what is. Tension between my way (“my rules”) and the rest of the world, external world, professional world? Connection to Culver’s klieg. Vulnerability. Connection to the airplane thing. Imagination. What will you look and feel like when you’re where you want to be. “Why the hell do I not [want it bad enough] to do it?” I don’t fake it very well. meaningless 022613 9:49 010613 Finally watched Brokeback Mountain, with about three quarters attention thru most of the whole thing, then right after the honest to god very last moment, felt this sinking, aching, desolate, lonely, tragic emptiness. What’s that about? Maybe I should switch to doing my words in the morning for a while, just see how it goes. Mainly because then I wouldn’t expect to be drinking, and because I would be able to use my light. Also it means I would pretty much have to decide to go on to bed instead of staying up doing so much of everything, chomping on psychic empty calories. Which seems like it must be related to this “intentionality” thingy which I have no idea what it means. But kind of do. that works 022613 7:40 FLOWERING *RADIAL SPOKES* WITH WEIRDLY GRAVITATIONAL PULL 1. TW for VP (from Dock) to start the whole process. 2. If you want to enter a hashtag now, do so; else Delete 3. *type, type, type* 4. Select All 5. cmd-opt-ctrl-V to Send to VoodooPad as New Page (VP Service must be installed; its keyboard shortcut is set in Sys Prefs) 6. Give the new VP page a name 7. Switch back to TW 7. ctrl-R (shortcut assigned in TW's prefs) to start over in the still-open TW window - if for some reason the VP window was closed, the "Start Over" script tells you, and defaults to fixing that for you & bringing you back! 8. goto 2. *TUNNELS* 1. Have the VP page open you want to add to [by running one cycle of RADIAL SPOKES] 2. Switch [back] to TW. 2. If you want to enter a hashtag now, do so [else Delete]. 3. *type, type, type* 4. Select All 5. cmd-ctrl-V to Send to Current VoodooPad Page (VP Service must be installed; its keyboard shortcut is set in Sys Prefs) 6. Make a new page in VP by selecting part of the text you just added and creating a link. 7. ctrl-T (shortcut assigned in TW's prefs) to start over in the still-open TW window WITHOUT THE REDUNDANT HEADER INFORMATION, since you've already created your new page in VP. - if for some reason the VP window was closed, the "Start Over" script tells you, and defaults to fixing that for you & bringing you back. If for some reason the current page was changed prior to closing, however, your tunnel will get messed up. 8. go to 2. NOTES: - actually, what is starting to seem more effective and flowy than tunnels is just to to radial but look at the last page, and, when it’s time to name the new one, choose to name it something off the last one. That way you don’t have to name the page before you write anything. You can still just come back to TW and bang away, and if you have your windows arranged in a nice tile, you can just glance and name *after* typing. - yes, I realize "Start Over for Tunnels" is just clearing the whole page and adding a "#", which could be done by just selecting all and starting to type if you added the "#" to VP's new page text, EXCEPT for the fact that the script still has the reminder dialog in it, and it leaves room for more tinkering in the future. - still need a go to random page in VP. Used to have that.... - would it be worthwhile to make a script on the VP side of TUNNELS to automatically grab some text, make the new page, then switch back to TW? - Applescript is a shitsucking nightmare. Had a couple variations of a script to automate steps 3 and 4, and it worked perfectly--every now and then. Then it would just randomly fail when accessed by a keyboard shortcut. - you'll have to edit both the app and the script when you want to use a different VP file. - if you accidentally use the script in some other workflow or use of textwrangler, no biggie as long as you don't panic--just undo. (Maybe there's a way to test for the conditions being not right when the script is activated, and asking you if you really mean it...?) - ctrl-D is set in TW's prefs as just a short date insert without clearing and putting "" at the top. - ctrl-7 is set to Voo Dsa - ctrl-shift-? is random line scpt (for TW’s front window) the psyche has an inherent tendency to move toward wholeness #stone what triggers it 020113 I am listening to the big invisible wide animal right now still, and that's why I haven't gone to bed yet. It may be good it may be bad, there may be a better thing to gain from not listening and instead listening to the slim, quiet, breezy, barely-dawn-lit animal of that other practice. But tonight isn't going to be the night I find out. 031213 11:03 am In its negative aspect the spirit appears as exclusive intellect which has lost all connection to feeling and the body. This lack of connection expresses itself in contempt for feeling as something unclear and in the opinion that the body is primitive and non-spiritual. This attitude, all too frequent in modem man, is often the cause of psychic disorders. Only when the intellect has learnt to understand itself as one element among others making up the total person, can the client find the way back to the sense and meaning of life. #stone god 031513 10:19 pm Sat and listened to a bunch of old men at McDonalds today. The caretakers were grey-beards. The old leading the old. They made jokes about Alzheimers and about the one they called “Tank.” Cuz he used to drive a tank, in the war. He still thinks he’s driving one now, the old caretaker said, when he’s in his car “*honk hoooooonk*, get out of my way!!” I’m getting drunk and there’s a small wooden chair in front of me, in front of the speaker, the speaker from the 60’s, from when my stepfather wasn’t my stepfather, when he wasn’t anything but a hungry young man, attorney barely, veteran, redneck, product of his times, sexy, he probably had hair then, I don’t know why it matters so much but it does. I didn’t solder the wires. I just crimped them on with pliers. God forgive me. Forgive me please. Just keep playing the music and make it sound good, or at least good enough. We’re born, we live, we die. Why. Why. Why, why, why? little lies 022613 9:53 Really take a look at the people you're working with this week. No, I mean a REAL look. Yeah. Like you already were doing. Just wanted to keep you aware! :) ---- Posanski just doesn't want to see something. She always gets so hasty when dropping off Libby after a Lily play date. Says Lily doesn't do well on sleepovers but Libby could have one over there... May well be true, but.... Talks so fast, and then her emails are like normal speech. Leaves. Does not want to see what's in our... house.... ---- My god there are so many clues always! DON'T GO BACK TO SLEEP DON'T GO BACK TO SLEEP DoN'T GO BACK TO sLEEP --- and then I ate like a whole bag of chips a psychological condition in which a human being or an animal has learned to act or behave helplessly in a particular situation -- *usually after experiencing some inability to avoid an adverse situation* -- even when it actually has the power to change its unpleasant or even harmful circumstance. Seligman saw a similarity with severely depressed patients, and argued that clinical depression and related mental illnesses result in part from a perceived absence of control over the outcome of a situation. # TIMES I’VE SAID “I DON’T KNOW” - early view. “I don’t know why I don’t do my prep and lesson plans!” - so many clues 022613 9:54 012513 Dad was wrong. Basketball energy may wane. Running around and flapping your arms energy may wane. Staying up all night to run around the asphalt and oak-panelled drunk of life may wane. But creative energy? Actually, no, doesn’t wane. Changes. Seasons. Ages. But actually, weirdly, beautifully, wrinkledly, increases. Increases until you burn up on re-entry and die. I love the girls so much. Tonight watching Red Dwarf, watching them laugh at the jokes, Meg & Mil getting most of them, Lib getting some of them, but they were smiling and they are so infinitely gorgeous. I can just sit and stare and it’s like staring at the security monitor of my soul. Megan like a cute bemused elf in college. Millie like a sharp, big, bold brave scared woman in college. Libby like the last year she’s going to be a snuggle bug, also sharp, also big, on the verge of interstellar travel. Celi bear already asleep upstairs, but her whispering voice also already picking out sibilants and percussives as elegant as any worldly lady. They’re all so perfect. I am surrounded by musical perfection. I do wish Kathy would have called or emailed. I would like to work there. But it’s okay. Now that I know who I am and what I love and what I’m good at, it’s going to work out okay. It’s going to be okay. --- Why do rich people always have big special dogs? go to bed 022613 9:52 iPad is inferior writing device. except for battery life, otherwise pain in the ass. --- Bipeds with fine strings sproinging out of their heads constantly exchanging power tokens with gestural interface. The pitch has been pitched (it still is being, as the roller coaster car continues to roll long after the initial downhill charge). Some will catch it, some will successfully deploy the shield of doubt. This bitch is obviously crazy, but I was young once too, and misled about the source and direction of my desperation. The things I can see and the things the victims at the next table can see overlap, but nowhere near entirely. You have to be sharp, sharper dressed than they, you have to have subtly immaculate fingernails, just enough scalp showing at the temple, just the right amount of frown, that shows you're in control. They are, as soon as they abdicate the upper hand by walking in here dressed in anything even remotely slack and sitting down, essentially your slaves. Their only choices now are to capitulate or to run away. You are horrible, and almost all of us lust after you in some way at some time. We thrust our own ripped-out guts onto your polished knife for you, we do it ourselves, you don't even have to ask, as we jerk and buck in throes of self-defiling ejaculate. We are powerless beneath your angular jawline. Your implicit disapproval makes us infantile. The porn site version of you is laughable--but we understand now why it works, at least for some, for the psychically shut in, for the pathetic among the pathetic. The straw bosses among the pathetic, who have earned the illusory privelege of poking our heads out into public space, we belong to you. Castrate us, defile us, slather us absent-mindedly with contempt, and let us die. We beg you. She lets out just enough of a sliver of a half of a smile at (the one remaining) at the table in front of (her and her invisible "husband.") He (the one remaining) is dead, of course. He will have to die before he can even begin to realize what he will spend the rest of the first half of his life recovering from. She goes out one door, he another. The invisible husband... is not important. She exists all over the city; on a freezing breeze she will infiltrate another café another day. He is in one place only, and increasingly it is at the bottom of a vortex of increasingly solid matter. The invisible husband... is text only, text only, undimensional, theoretical, abstract, almost, almost... gone. Did you forget about the sweet mahogany pain of loneliness? That's a part of this too, this time too, and to pretend to forget that is to invite the old way of oblivion into your budding alleyway, your bothy in the clouds, your hut on the real beach. Don't worry. It won't be like last time. You're not alone. It will be a little like last time, until you turn a different way. Then it will be exactly the same and entirely different. The thing you didn't notice before (it's okay, pretty much noone does) is that the two worlds are perfectly juxtaposed. The however many worlds. They're in the exact same space, but it's a different space. Um. Ha. You know? Yeah, it's hard to explain. At any given moment, at least until you can get some more practice in, you might have to periodically check yourself to see which one (or ones) you're in. Go ahead. Experiment. Once unlocked, they stay unlocked. You are free, free to go back and forth in the same place. But what about--her? That demon, that minionette, that stabbing searing, I don't know, *witch* that we just watched demolish those poor saps at the next table? Well, yes, her. Ha! What can I say? Nobody said this world had classic, linear, diametric, didactic badguys and goodguys. Yeah, she's evil, and yeah, you have to watch out, but I'm not going to tell you she's like Satanette or some dumb thing. I'm not going to tell you this whole thing resolves into another dumb Star Wars rerun where we have to kill her with teddy bears. It just ain't like that in (this) real life. I mean, you can do what you want. Just don't get your pecker cut off cuz you'll probably end up bleeding to death and I'm going to have a hard time explaining that to the boss. Ha. Um... I know, right? However, I am going to say just one more thing. About that. *SMILE you know I always have more than one thing SMILE* Keep in mind that sometimes people who are stuck in the one world and can't really see this one, they can still kind of sense us when we're near each other, and some of them only know that they're sensing something they think they need. But they don't know what it is and they don't know what to do with it so if you let them--*if you let them*--they will grab onto you and hold you down and you won't be able to breathe, and they'll be sucking on all your other reality, trying to drag you back into the other world to stay. They don't, at least most of them, understand they're doing it; I mean it's not like most of them are trying to hurt you or try to kill your freedom, they just honestly don't know what they're doing. It's maybe going to hurt sometimes to not let them do that--but. Well, you already know what I'm going to say. It's like taking your sick old dog to the vet...? Yep. It's going to hurt but you just can't let them. And I know you know this, because I think you just realized you've been there before. I just wanted to say it out loud, have you hear it out loud. *PAUSE out of my own sweet mouth HAHA* I could really use a drink right now. *SIDEWAYS EYEBALL Hmmmmmm* Well, okay. But just one! *STAR SPARKLE EYEBALL, CORNER OF MOUTH GLOSSY TURNED UP CUTE INFINITE COSMOS* still 022813 11:50 #whatif what if you were honest with people? Fuck the hotshot contemporary “movement” with its titillating tough-guy pose hysteria-- plain honesty is what fucking Bukowski was doing all along. 0113 022613 9:47 Everyone’s in bed now of course except me. There’s a great cumulonimbus of tasks and chores hanging over me. It gets dark too early. I already hate winter. My face is hot, my neck hurts, my ears are confined by headphones. The new Paul Simon album is pretty good but not nearly as good as Mom cracked it up to be. I’ve pretty much heard it all before except with more energy. Sounds like a good-natured capitulation to the need to produce another album. I still don’t feel old enough to know what the hell I’m doing. What band of idiots let me out here to do this on my own? Jesus Christ, I’m barely competent to drive, just look at the front end of my van. Who the hell thought I had the presence of mind to pull off being an adult for a prolonged time? This is just insane. I hope we don’t die or get shoved rudely out on the street any time soon. I hope our teeth don’t fall out. Hearts and Bones is probably one of the better ones on this album. Wood grain, bricks with the dust of the 70’s, the 60’s, the 50’s, the 40’s; in the 30’s this dust was new and scandalous. The nation was just trying out its vertical erection; the nation was hapless as a teenager on a terrifying date. And now, look at us now. The old boy makes a pretty good case for just driving away away away away away. I wonder how Scott’s doing with his new girlfriend. “Ask me in three months,” he kept saying; it was a wounded romantic’s incantation. I got it, I get it, but I don’t even have three month’s worth of-- oh blah blah blah, pity me; did you catch the twinge of guilt when he said to me, “You’re not bellyaching!”? Because I was. At least a little, right? Right. Feel bloated, stinky, saggy, shriveled, and dumb? Let’s see, you could try, um, oh I don’t know, *doing something about it?* Twenty-seven more words until it’s time to consider calling Kranawetter for a little while. Left a lame email inviting her to do the same, in response to her email inviting me to do the same. What the fuck is that? Okay, I take it all back. The song *rewrite* makes up for any lack of “innovation” in the rest of the album. The version of *Diamonds* is pretty hot, too. 031213 11:00 am The human being, understood as a unity, must be capable of continually mediating between the demands of the internal and external world, as the only way of proving that one is an authentic individual, because in this way one is neither a will-less victim of unconscious contents nor a super-adapted creature in relation to society and the world. This attitude, however, can only be realized in such a way that the ego, which is the centre of the conscious personality, becomes conscious of its relativity and understands itself as forming part of the Self, which embodies the unity of the conscious and unconscious person. In addition, Jung attributes to the Self a healing and regulating tendency which the analytical work aims to reveal. #stone I am listening 010113 Millie gave me some ornaments she made; one was made of gingerbread, and one was a picture of her with her rainbow hair on a foam cutout. There was also a ceramic magnet she painted with rainbow swirls. The gingerbread man had a huge mouth. She said, “I messed up on his mouth,” but she was laughing and so was I. I told her they were all beautiful. Megan said, “Why do we celebrate New Year’s? It’s just another year. So what?” I didn’t really have an answer. We stayed up past midnight alternating watching King of the Hill and Futurama. I wasted several hours virtualizing Windows and Ubuntu. It’s all the same shit underneath, of course, that’s so obvious as to be meaningless. 022613 7:10 step #testing I am a glorious mole. hell 021313 I am typing now on the same keyboard that I typed the very first *Him & Me's* with. That's just...nice. As soon as Megan gets home, the steak cooking begins. Bring to room temp. Light the grill, by the front porch so I'll be able to see as it gets dark. Prep some veggies. Drizzle with olive oil. Kosher salt and coarse-ground white pepper. Sear those fuckers. Few minutes per side, max. Throw some baby bellas on there too. Bring in. Let sit. Serve. Chill out. Get mindful of not freaking out in the subtly intensified atmosphere of family dinner time. Finish up. Take Libby to dance, Megan to girl scouts. Send her with the iPad because they are doing something with word processing and spreadsheets tonight. Explain to her that the iOS iWork apps will work for that and we can share them in Office format later if need be. Marvel that we're still having to consider file formats even after all these years. Speed up, slow down. Get everyone home safely. I made a cat condo today, out of carpet scraps and that two-by-four-and-plywood plant stand thingy that took up space on the front porch for years. I've felt recurring squirts of some anxious hormone or chemical of some kind, because I talked to Lang about the divorce stuff, and repeated my stance about not agreeing with her changes to the agreement. Felt like an incomplete conversation in a way; felt once again that he just doesn't get it--or really care. But I'm still betting that he'll at least get the job done. People with outrageous appearance tend to be in more antifragile occupations. According to the antifragile author. I want to be the me I used to know I was. Not the buttoned-down god-damn slave I used to know I'm not. Let's keep rolling with this large, nameless, quiet feeling. Somewhere under the surface of my shifting perception of these waking dreams, it's roaring, massive, a subterranean river of molten history. My favorite seasonings are white pepper and cumin. I am not a big fan of the word "marjoram." I do not know what that actual herb tastes like at this time. Always remember, every paragraph could be the last. minds 022613 7:22 pm #testing I just started the process with the opener app. I can of course see that the previous page open in VP says the word "mole" at the end, so I'm going to plan ahead to switch to #tunnels by naming this page "mole" when I Send to New VP Page. Then I will create a new page (link), come back here, and do the Start Over for Tunnels script. Let's see how that works. 032413 9:32:30 pm #maelstrom the beast knows i'm coming-- scratch that. the beast knows I may be inching closer to no longer running. Big difference, heh. But nevertheless, I must be inching close to *something* because it's throwing everything at me: food, drink, impulsive purchases, anger, irritability, detachment, attachment, busyness, obsessive tinkering, you name it. I should be honored, I must be pretty capable and important, to warrant this kind of an all-out attack. intellect 031213 11:25 am Dark energies are transformed into bright, constructive ones and with the help of awakening creativity they give life a new direction. The wholeness expressed through sand must now find its expressions in the wholeness of living. #stone 0213 022613 10:06 021013 SO SICK of the complicity of a large portion of this country in allowing anyone to do whatever the HELL they want as long as they ACT CHRISTIAN enough. scared 022613 9:55 013013 Holy shit, I made some freakin awesome african peanut stew. The kids--not so crazy about it, although Megan kinda liked it. Millie thinks it’s the reason there’s kids in Africa going hungry. --- YEARS of failure don’t necessarily mean you’re just not cut out for [it], or that you just don’t have the “right personality.” It could just mean it’s a really big, long, complicated question. Maybe it’s somewhat up to you and your heart of hearts whether you’re okay with that or not--whether the hopeless is transient or becomes monolithic and permanent. It could be too that you’ve been failing at the wrong problem. Maybe your failure is depressing only because you’ve temporarily forgotten how to fail productively: “That's the pedagogical ballgame: get your student to want to find something out. All that's left after that is to make yourself available for hints and questions. ‘That student is taught the best who is told the least.’” - James Somers, How I Failed, Failed, and Finally Succeeded at Learning How to Code Maybe the reasons I failed so abysmally at teaching but still haven’t been able to completely let it go (like Dexter in Denver) aren’t so simple and devastating as I have been assuming. spunk 022613 3:38 pm #testing there would have to be a vp doc open if you use the opener, by def 022013 MAKE the PHONE CALL!!! (just talked to case worker about child care; got the authorization back for Lisa; just like that; been avoiding it for so long; JUST MAKE THE DAMN CALL whatever it IS!!!!!!!!!!!) I am listening 040913 9:37 "I don't like coming home." "You have all these big ideas, and nothing ever works out." "I'm going to forget my mother." "People are trying to make me forget about her." It took her three tries to think of 1 good thing that happened at home, and even then she added, "and then it got ruined when..." I get into arguments with her about the negativity. I try to reason her into being more optimistic. I don't think it's working. I seem to take it personally when she says everything's bad. 022213 Negativity continues. Disappointments due to uncontrollable events well up and become personal and huge. She accentuates the negative. In any given situation, when in one of these moods, she has a knack for finding the pessimistic angle, the reason it won't work, the worst part of it. She acts and speaks with extreme helplessness. Any attempt to convince her that that is not necessary gets met with resentment, gets taken as personal attack it seems to feed itself; looks from the outside as if she doesn't want to let it go and move on; insists on being miserable. "Why is it always me!?" Says things like "Now I've made everybody feel worse!" downward spiral of self-loathing that explodes onto everyone else at this point, no matter what i say or don't say, it seems to make it worse makes (il)logical leaps: "I was really looking forward to skating!-->I'm really disappointed that we can't go-->Now it feels like we'll NEVER GO!!!" I am trying to explain to her & show her that these are thought habits that can be retrained (RET), but she doesn't seem to fully believe that yet what triggers it? arguments with sisters or me especially over iPad, Wii, etc excessive scolding or harshness or frustration from me wrt housekeeping, chores, helping out, etc disappointments (like not being able to go ice skating bc me & mil got sick) if i scold her or "yell at her" "everybody hates me" the mood changes INSTANTLY and suddenly everything is horrible "my day is horrible" I take stuff as personal insults or attacks when she doesn't mean it that way--just like I've said about the reverse. I think I have adult level expectations of parts of our communication/interaction that I don't expect from the others. These exchanges trigger my frustrated failure response, my can't-do-anything-right response (and it seems it does something similar for her). 031213 11:05 am We can say that fantasy becomes fruitful only where it is obliged to restrict itself within definite forms. The result is the polarity freedom/restriction. Freedom, on the one hand, consists in the fact that few boundaries are set to the client's shaping activity. The client has the possibility of selecting from the variety of figures and to construct a portrayal of the world that is closest to him or her. Restriction, on the one hand, resides in the fact that, out of many figures, a choice must be made. In this way clients succeed in portraying the problematic that is unconscious to them. Now we observe that a process is set in motion in which the unconscious, hidden totality assumes the leadership. When persons begin playing, they submit to the law of the very thing that leads them to that reconciliation of opposites which indeed is the decisive characteristic of the playing. Play is the mediator of the invisible and visible. #stone how it works 030813 10:14 #tnuwwon #resume http://lifehacker.com/5987055/format-your-resume-so-its-compatible-with-applicant-screening-software let some stuff go 022613 9:55 012913 <{[(I need a drinK)]}> Of course. It’s eleven oclock. It’s always eleven oclock around here. 022613 6:06 freaky spunk 022613 6:04 pm #testing Suppose I had typed a bunch of weird crap and I didn't want to just keep adding to my weird historico-magical gimp tunnel, but instead I wanted to add to a document & page that I would have a chance to select LIVE, as it were, then I could just use the built-in-to-VP BUCKET. (But you have to remember not only to select but also to copy first, unless you're in a web bwowser and using the bookmarklet.) kill your freedom 022613 9:53 012413 She’s skittish, like a having-been-abused dog. I haven’t been following the 7-to-1 rule, and she points that out regularly, though not in those terms. The way the people at Turning Point choose their battles and let some stuff go--certain stuff, not usually just any random stuff--I need to do that more with her. Why do I not want to do the OM homework? How is it similar to how I never wanted to do the teaching prep? How is it similar to what I might find myself facing when/if I get into a special ed job? What do I do with all this? Of course 022613 9:56 013113 A tiny compression wave of sublimity just thrust thru me with infinite warmth. No-one has to be anywhere tonight for a change. Supper’s planned & easy & a popular choice. Millie’s reading, Megan’s crafting in the basement, littles are playing upstairs. It’s cold outside. It’s warm enough in here. Nanci’s on the ancient speakers via modern airplay. I just took one cold sip of a perfectly-timed old fashioned. Just sweet enough, just bitter enough. One sip, and my whole world was suffused with amber dragonfly perfection. -- Millie has suddenly become freaking hilarious. I guess a steady diet of Futurama and whatever all those books are she’s always reading plus a healthy dose of classical and egyptian mythology... I don’t know. There was the African stew thing last night, and then tonight about the kid that got so fat (I don’t even remember why). Her delivery is hysterical and impeccable at the same time. “I can’t even move! I’m too fat! Mom: roll me to school!” So matter-of-fact, worldly and yet still elementary-school. It blows my mind. god 031613 1:40 Brain document fact airplane detective alibi precious train system overt cancerous retraction calumny charge odor misfi; recreational facility stork. The spam of your mood. hissing 022613 9:50 012013 TYPICALLY, the taller the tree, the smaller its leaves. Just got off the phone with Kranawetter. Talked about: Are we that old? Work. Divorce. Mental shit. Dogs. Cats. Jobs. Kids of course. It’s midnight here but it’s not there, of course. She said, go to bed. Cuz she knew cuz I’d told her that I stay up too late. She said, go to bed and think of me. I was like OH, Okay. She said I still love you. I said I reckon I still love you too. (But I’m still not goin to bed.) green tree 022613 3:15 pm #testing just keeps getting better If everything worked according to plan, the bucket will pop up and whatever text you have selected will be automatically put into the bucket. 022613 6:07 hard work #testing This is a brilliant mismanagement of the finest minds. forgiveness 022813 11:48 pm #fox No, I'm not. But I still want to (i'm drinking a little despite ) still want to see a little men mashing up against other men maybe making some kissing sounds maybe a little sweat glowing still 031513 #stone If you create a sacred space in your heart for something, it changes how you do it. It changes you, at the molecular level. 022613 7:27 mole #testing It worked great. nevertheless 032513 1:27:43 pm #gull it’s not just a drawing out; it’s a putting in. You make pictures based on the true pictures that emerge in your real moments. Then you codify those symbols, including their ephemerality, by placing items in teh-dsa. It’s how you take pictures of the invisible and extremely real. Sometimes when you can’t quite be with those real moments, you find yourself tinkering with the scaffolding, the mechanical business of this drawing and putting, this poking and peeking. That’s okay. Just remember to go back. all along 022813 11:58 no praise; no blame you’ve been in the audience you’ve been on the boards terrified? there is no division dancing 022713 9:24 pm #writing What I've learned from Goins's audio sessions so far: 1. It has to help people somehow; helping people can be a way to develop your work and success 2. You already have a brand; you can choose whether to participate in it, or just let people walk away with whatever you're unconsciously giving off. 3. You are doubting yourself. You know you’re good, you know it’s your dream even though you pretend it isn’t, but you’re still full of doubt. 4. I need practice and discipline of writing for an audience. Stephen King: 1st draft with the door closed, 2nd with the door open. If you ever want to expand out of your own little world and your couple of friends and your mom. Write for others: mags, blogs as guest, etc. what would success look like? 021913 ’notice’ Peggy said ’what triggers [the anxiety response & cascade]’ And it turns out that slowing down to consciously pay attention to it actually helped ameliorate it. Some observations about the cascade: Vulnerability Being sick ’What if something happens to me?’ The warm spot on my leg Not working many days in a week Having spent a large sum of money (in this case futon) even if it’s on most levels a justifiable purchase Jimmy not calling for print jobs anymore Feeling of ’not doing it right’ Feeling of not being included or fully validated by associates/peers Suspicion that i’m majorly fucking up and people just aren't coming right out and saying it Remaining uncertainty around divorce and lack of desired level of support from lawyer The world just seems like a hostile place; I am not allowed to succeed or else I just fail to understand how or fail to do the work or some damn thing There is something inherently wrong with me socially and sexually Feeling generally not safe The kids' getting letters from her is another trigger Also not knowing the status of childcare benefits Feels like I'll never get a decent job and I'm going to die sick and poor That fucking spot on my leg. Those fucking spots on my chest. OM. ’i just don’t know how much more of this I can take.’ Celi came fussing down the stairs literally the moment I lay my head down. Didn't really mean to be short with her but it happened. Got her tucked in, settled down, calmed myself down and sweet talked her. Came back down here and tonight I'm just feeling like a damn fraud. Like all progress is a damned illusion and there's no future except going back to bring a dull empty slave after I get done with my little state-supported vacation from reality. People have to get jobs and work. Dumbass. Real jobs. Yeah go back to your therapist and act smart and then daydream and fantasize all the way home. You don't need drugs. You have your own goddamned self-whitewashing brain. Are you ever going to fix that hole in the wall bitch? Ok so you're bisexual. Good for fucking you. You're still a pissy nobody in a shabby townhouse with a bunch of kids who aren't getting any cheaper. Update, 022513. Again, I think it really has a lot to do with vulnerability. Mom mentioned mold and allergies when I was telling her about the girls’ visit to the doctor’s office, and ever since then I’ve been just about certain there’s some invisible killer lurking in the darkest corners of the house. Shit, I thought my being sick was a vulnerability trigger; Megan’s up there coughing so much she wants to cry but can’t. Now here I am stuffing red vines and triscuits down my face while watching every stupid show Hulu has to offer. I can see myself doing it, and I haven’t stopped yet. And here’s the rest of it: when I sent her the pic of my “room” and she asked who made the “best dady ever” valentine, I told her it was Libby and she msgd back, “Ok now I’m crying.” That’s just it, isn’t it? It all comes down to that. That’s the ultimate vulnerability. There’s so much power and emotion in my relationships with the girls, so much at stake; it’s the one relationship I can’t ever, ever walk away from, fake, or ignore--when the vulnerability comes into that realm (and that realm is omnipresent in my world now, most especially now that there’s no spouse to pass it off to or even divide it up with as I assume most people do), it’s huge, it’s vast, it’s terrifying but I can’t run away and so I chow down. And think vague exciting thoughts about being a writer. Where is the middle ground? Where does responsibility meet artistry? Where does my life meet my life? Can it? Because I think I have all but allowed myself to be convinced (by what or whom?) that it can’t, that the real world just doesn’t work that way, that it is necessary to be unhappy and just go to work and fake it unless you’re some kind of fucking genius which is maybe why I’ve always tried so hard to see some kind of secret sparkling pixie-dust revelation that I really am special. Because I thought you had to be. I thought I had to be. 011213 1) I’d like to heal sexually. I still want to be kinky and play with dominance, submission, all that stuff, but I want to have fun again and let a little light into the room. It got too dark. I’m not banishing the demons, just inviting some angels back to the party. Some sweetness, a warm vanilla smoothness that coexists with the tang of sweat and fear without being consumed by it. At least most of the time. At least until, if this is possible, I find someone I can actually trust, and with whom I can really do the letting go I allowed myself to believe I was doing with her. how it works 030913 10:12 pm #threethings - Slow, compassionate repetition - Megan started out *HUGELY* resistant to nightly saying three good things about the day - But tonight, I started to say goodnight and leave, but *she* initiated it, saying the girl scout event was one big good thing. 041713 Show a movie, hand out a worksheet. That’s what I do. I’m a professional at that. 041713 Your own little world You have too many apps to write in. You have too many systems. You have too many expectations about those systems. You have too many preconceptions about what writing is and what you need it for. You focus frequently on one facet of the complex polyhedron that is your temperament & character, while neglecting the other 'n' sides. Let it go. Let it be like taking pictures. Play. Zoom. Adjust. Snap. Edit. Sort out the rationale later, if ever. And sort the files later too. #gull what I've learned 030113 10:30 pm #confused #anxious #overwhelmed So Like I'm thinking over what I've learned from Goins's audio sessions so far, and at first I was getting all inspirey and geeked up but now I'm just kinda back to stuck. Because I've stirred up all these contradictory feelings. Like, YOU NEED TO WRITE, but also you need to get beyond your world and write for an audience. He's always insisting that he's not selling anything while talking about how to sell stuff. It's very confusing. I am still suffering just as much as I ever was from the artist/salesman dichotomy. Still being hard on myself about that. He says, "unless you want to just journal, or write your own little thing for a couple of friends and your mom...." But I remain unsure of the best way to move beyond that. So I’m like, okay, I was giving myself credit for the journaling, because at least it’s thinking and words. So then am I wasting my time? Finding yet another way to placate my dumb self while accomplishing zero?I do think getting back to the writers' circle would be a good step though, because it forces me to deal with other people looking at my words. Besides those couple of friends and my mom, that is, but it still leaves me enough freedom to write pretty much whatever. At some point it just seems like it should no longer be satisfying to daydream about how deep everyone’s going to think I was when they sift through all my documents after I’m dead. Like Paul Ford, I’ve been writing the same essay for years. Enough, already. Now, how to bust the fuck out? UPDATE 041713: YOU ARE SOLVING THE WRONG PROBLEM!!!!!!!! 041613 I find myself in some. Kind of odd places. Now I'm at Horning middle school, sitting at a cafeteria table while the lunch ladies eat lunch and the ozone is quietly building up to the next yammering hump of raw adolescence to cycle through here like a bloody tide leaving unimaginable riches of bacteria and other teeming life forms in the tide pools of the quiet dirty spaces of this rapt riddle that is our educational system at its most slightly above average. Something buzzes raggedly overhead. Tiles burnished by dragged feet reflect ill fluorescence into the margin of human habitation here, the thin space between the floor and ceiling, the fishwise dimension of constant investigation & intrigue. These are loud ants, these students; in emergent clusters they can muster the hypertrophic noise of tribal safety. Membership is non-voluntary. The weak are protected. But at a very high cost to themselves. And others. 041713 today I am doing absolutely no actual “work,” sitting behind a tall desk that psychically protects me from the rest of the computer lab where some high school kids do some CAD or something, and most of them play flash games quietly while idly chatting. My mind is in quiet faraway mode. It’s like being in a kind of jelly. GIRL: Robot Unicorn makes me cry. I can’t even play it, because I cry every time. ME: Zhu Zhu aha son of a mother fucking bitch. (Note: did not actually happen exactly like that) 042213 Heard at MHS: “The best way to take out a unicorn is with a Claymore....” 042313 heard (custodian) at Tess Corners Elem: “if the little guy doesn't want to get his feet wet, he should stop standing in the urinal!” *** She’s hypercritical of celi at the doc. I get back out from aldi’s and I can't even get into the car before she’s telling me everything celi did wrong in the 5 minutes I was in there. We get home, and I start telling sisters to pick up, etc. She immediately echoes my commands, adding her own. I say “i’ll take care of it.” I have to say this more than once before she backs off and leaves them alone. She nags Millie about having homework. Moments later, she gets frustrated and half yells at them because she wanted them to turn off the sound from the iPads, because she wanted to concentrate on homework at the kitchen table, and they did not respond. I said “it's not that loud”. Increasingly agitated, she says “I can hear it!” I say “you also have a room.” She says “I have a desk that’s full of fat junk that I have to deal with--” I say “that's not my fault” and she yells “I hate you” and storms upstairs. Comes back a little later as if nothing. Continues to tell the littles at supper what to do and what not to do. Says to millie upon seeing papers, “i knew you had homework!” then i guess millie glares at her. she says “WHAT!?” and “I don’t know what i’m doing wrong!” and cries and leaves the table for several minutes. after she’s back she criticizes the littles some more. i say “stop telling your sisters what to do. That’s what I need from you right now.” She mostly stops. ***