Monthly Archives: February 2013

The treachery of cyberspace

Sometimes in this world we bump into each other. At times it is a gentle glancing almost friendly bouncing sort of bump, sort of like a toddler running into your legs for a hug. Other times it is like a small nuclear explosion that carries its waves to the end of the universe and back. It’s the latter that makes us stop short and stare like a small rabbit caught in the headlights of a Mack truck bearing down on it with the horn blasting.

The Web, the fascinating wide open internet, can be so very much like the siren’s song of ancient Greek mythology; luring the unsuspecting into a whirlpool of anger and hurt feelings. Everyone of these letters I am typing on this blank space goes out to the whole world. Anyone and everyone with just the tiniest bit of techi-ness can pull them up on their own flickering screen and read them. Not only read them but re-interpret them according to their own life views. Since most of this Big Blue Marble we are spinning on has never met me nor will they, their interpretations probably are not anything like the way they were put onto the page. Mostly, and completely I think, because I am the only one inside my head, I am the only one who truly knows what I am trying to express by my writings. Those who know me, those who are part of my life, know some of that expression. Those who only know me superficially; those who only see me where they put me or want me or are even used to seeing me might be startled or even offended by my words.

I am only me. I am only the person God created my to be. I can be no more, nor can I not live up to that. I make mistakes. I stumble, I create faux paux, I blunder like a bull in a china shop sometimes.  I have been known in my life to blurt out things that I myself am startled I said. I have been known to write things to one person, not even thinking that others will read it. I have been convicted in abscentia of directing something at another human being when that was not my intention at all.

So, all my family and friends, when you see something in my writings, no matter where that writing turns up, that offends, hurts, angers, confuses, disgusts or other wise elicits a totally negative response in you—talk to me about it!  I am not by nature a vindictive person, you who are my friends and family know that. So call me up, text me, Facebook me, whatever; but please keep the lines of communication open. The very worst, the most hurtful thing one human being can do to another is to shut them out, cutting off all means of an understanding.

I will accept and honor your anger and your hurt if you but will keep the doors of true human connection open between us. For if we keep talking we just might find a place we can continue to talk to each other. The biggest problems in this world start when someone leaves the table.

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Thelma & Louise???

It is always so very interesting to me that people will apply certain standards to others in a Holier-than-thou sort of manner and that other person is required to stand up straight, pay attention and apply all standards given to the place needed. We all do it to some extent, maybe not intentional, but still done in that really annoying manner. Most of these declarations are prefaced with “you should” or maybe a “you shouldn’t” or the ever present “if I were you”. Ahhh such sage advice from someone who has absolutely no clue what I should or shouldn’t do and is certainly not in any way shape or form me.

Since I have decided to leave California and move to Ohio it seems the general populace that has contact with me has a definitive need to let me know, as they say so eloquently, “what I am getting myself into”. It seems these persons must have known my mother; the fount of should’s and shouldn’t’s in this world. How sad for them she has been dead these ten years, they could have so much more of these pronouncements directly from the source. It seems to be their lot in life to tell me harrowing tales of blizzards, black ice treachery hiding in the dark and the coup-d-gras—bitter, bitter cold!! They are determined to stand in front of the moving van when it attempts to pull out of the cul-d-sac to derail the whole thing.

There is just one factor they have missed in this. That factor is God. It is from his command, his lead, his timing and his putting the pieces of this move together that I am doing this. I admit to feeling an awful lot like Abraham must have felt when God told him to pick up his stuff, his family, his people, his flocks and go where he would tell him to go. (Thank you God, I do not have flocks!) Scary, exciting, weird, fun, wonderful and determined to go the way God said, not man, is what this whole thing is.

No, I didn’t hear a voice from the cloud, nor did I have a vision while in contemplation. It was so much more simple and subtle than that. It was family. I have some wonderful cousins who live in Ohio that God said to me ‘go, be with them, learn about them, love them and they will love you’. I believe he has a task for me there. Something he has for me to do, with his leading and loving me through it. I hope it is teaching children about him, I do so love to do that. But what ever it is, what ever he has for me to accomplish for his glory I will do.

And a very small girl inside me, one who left Ohio when she was very, very young, longs to go back to the place where she became aware. I want to live around my Dad’s family, to get to know them where they live and where they are. For my Dad, for me and for those incredible cousins who live in Ohio. I will leave another incredible cousin here on the Left Coast. One who has walked with me through things that could have crushed me; I hope she feels I have walked with her through her almost-crushed-me things. Thank God for modern communication systems, we can talk, blog, Facebook, and text anytime anywhere—and be right there anytime and anywhere.

So, one day in May, my California Cousin and I with two dogs in tow will begin our Thelma & Louise Road Trip Extravaganza. We will head east with joy in our togetherness, excitement in the air around us and a great dose of common sense within us to the next chapter in this life.

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The Chattering

Well, here I am again, 12:30 at night, or should I say in the morning and the chattering of the “Busy Brain” will not let me drift off into sleep. This has now been going on for over two weeks. Tiredness engulfs my bones, my body is flat-out, even my eyes will close on their own while I am watching my favorite TV show. But, oh boy, not the little lady in the control center of the whole kit and caboodle.

Just about the moment that gloriously welcome sleep begins to overtake me she wakes up. Thoughts of the things I need to do, should do, shouldn’t do, might do, couldn’t do, would do and wouldn’t do come flying through like a squadron of pelicans swooping over the cliffs at Laguna. All the little digs that life sends to me throughout the day come back with a vengeance to haunt me at midnight.

Tonight it things of this move to Ohio. What about the phone? Do you really want to port your number? Maybe some new business needs that perfect number you have to make it! Maybe it won’t work anyway, that’s what the splicer said, it just might not you know. Where are you going to live there anyway. You know you need to have a place for your stuff. OH MY GOD THE STUFF!!! I need to pack, one box anyway. Get started on that. The man from North American Van Lines is coming tomorrow, you better get up early now, don’t want to be in your PJ’s when he gets here. Don’t forget to call the gate now.

Then there is the complete review of things I just do not want to let into my thoughts. Paramount seems to be my failed relationship. It seems to be quite the interesting topic of chatter to the little lady in my head. She just won’t let it go, won’t let it fade away. She is still desperate for some more satisfying resolution to the whole thing. And then he pops up again on my Facebook asking me if I posted something that was a dig at him. She asks me at midnight if I think of what that means. Then the chatter about the whole affair starts over again. One thing that did come out of that chatter the other night was the realization that he is full of stamped down anger. It does explain some of the unexplainable lack of action on his part. That sort of pressed down, stuffed strong feeling has a tendency to come out the little side cracks in us. His teasing that has a tinge of anger to it, his lack of a commitment to pretty much anything or anyone at this stage of his life, and for me anyway, his getting right up to the moment of stepping over that threshold into together and pulling back. The pain generated, the anger from the me, the loss of the dream especially he seemed to be oblivious to. Until the little lady in my head told me he is angry, at women in particular, and the stuffing of the anger only lets it come out in that instance. His excuse, his reasoning to himself is that he is lost. Lost in the anger of abandonment, lost in the anger of being not valued as a child, lost in the pain he felt as a small child, lost in the never finding a healthy expression of the anger and hurt and pain. The anger he has is real, it is somewhat justified but I cannot allow it to be directed at me to wound and cut at me.

So here I sit at my computer working my way to 1 AM thinking about things that cannot be solved or acted upon at this time of night. Maybe it is the only time of day the lady has to get through to me with some of her pressing concerns. When I get back into bed with my sleeping dogs, cuddle up next to their soft warm bodies, I will tell the lady that we will talk this out tomorrow, I will listen to her suggestions, I will make a list (oh, she just loves lists), and she and I will take these problems ones by one and conquer them.

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