Start of Week 2

Despite my best intentions, I lost momentum on my NaNoWriMo project towards the end of this past week. I finally hit over the 10K hump when I should be nearer to 17K at this point. I still feel pretty confident about finishing my 50K this month despite that. I do need to work on matters of laundry and homework today, so I may treat writing as more of a reward today.

Endings are a bit of an issue both in writing and life, as I have seen lately. We have so much anxiety in our culture about failing, leaving, and quitting, which seems so counterproductive. I am looking forward to yet another interesting shift. And, yes, Herodotus mentioned this: "Illness strikes men when they are exposed to change." So the issue has been a part of Western culture for some time.

The old adage about when one door opens, another closes, tends to be thrown to a wayside, as a comfort for that "shameful" moment when something has gone wrong. But a pagan perspective has a slightly different perspective: you have to destroy to create and there is balance in the ebb and flow of fortunes. Everything you do make a mark on the universe that ultimately affects everyone within it. It is silly to think that whatever "bad" happens to you is some sort of punishment. If karma was actually about biting people in the ass or giving them rewards on the basis of actions, we would not need a legal system.

The police sirens were quite busy in our neighborhood last night. It should be interesting to read the paper tomorrow to see what happened. I do know, however, that my chaotic people are aligned within the confines of the Law, which has made for some interesting fireworks. Everything is getting ready to ignite as it shifts, burning the fabled Tower to the ground.

November Goodbyes

I cannot believe how quickly this month has flown. We've made it through Thanksgiving and Black Friday. Cyber Monday is tomorrow. And, for NaNoWriMo'ers, we are in the last week of noveling madness. I am sitting at 31,835 as of this morning. While I am a bit behind the curve (about 10k at this point), I am still going to give my best until the very end. In fact, I have a plan to indulge in a party on the last day of the month involving Java Monsters, a trip to the Java Cat most likely, and writing all the way to midnight.

I'm clearly becoming invaluable at work because I have covered the office quite a bit this month so far. This is good for me, with student loans repayments becoming part of my life in December. You know, that month where the world is supposed to end. *smiles* No, I know I'm not going to get out of paying back the federal government that easily. All in all, my undergrad was pretty inexpensive, though, so I don't think it will be that horrible to pay back. The graduate classes that I took through full sail will be another matter, but worth it.

The worst part about November is the depression that it brings in my household. We made it through Veteran's Day mostly without incident, but it is clear that John's memories of the accident are plaguing him. He's still nervous driving on the highway, but I think the worst is that he cannot shake the horrible fears about possibly losing me that day. I think the difference is that I was angry that day more than I was scared. Also, there's the issue of what his mother said the day of the accident. Now that she's suddenly wanting to "bring the family back together," it's made him feel very conflicted. I can see the troubled emotions feeding his depression and anxiety; I honestly don't know what to do.

I really am not sure what I am going to do in April when I no longer have the office hours. I probably will still get called for the occasional visitation or service. Maybe another unique job will make itself known or I might rethink going back to school. I'm tempted to go for a business degree to get more of the training that I think I need to look better for office positions in this town. I have no idea how long John's current degree program is going to take him.

But I am preparing myself to say "goodbye" to this month and allow myself to relax a little more through December.

Matters of Life and Death

"While I thought I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die." Leonardo da Vinci 

It's a shame to me that we do not talk about death in our society like we should. This omission leaves people without any clear direction on how to celebrate life nor how to accept death as a necessity. Fearing death is the same as fearing life. It seems to me that both can cause needless heartache and pain.
I did not think about this as much until I started working at the funeral home when I caught myself trying to apologize for enjoying my job. I have not felt as necessary or that what I have done was as important as I do with this position. I feel more alive surrounded by the issues of death. To a certain extent, I think it is because I care about people's emotional health even when I do not fully understand my own. Perhaps I take a little bit of pride in a job that most people would not want to do. The hours might be few and far between, but I love a job that, ironically, doesn't make me miserable.

In terms of personal introspection, I've naturally been looking at time that I feel like I've been wasting.  The past is a cruel fairy tale that suggests if we had done things differently, we might somehow be in a better situation than we are now; which makes us stall. I've caught myself stalling at the precipice of major decisions rather than pushing myself forward. I'm trying to stop doing that but it's a very bad habit that's difficult to break.

The most recent issue of indecision has been the issue of kids. John and I both want them, no doubt, but it's more an issue of timing. There are some things I'm concerned about with kids in the near future, but he's brought up good health/medical arguments related to waiting as well. All I can think is, well, it's not going to be easy no matter what we decide. However, difficulty's never exactly been something to stop me either. We shall see what happens.

Morning Rituals

It's been argued that our daily habits can either help promote our success or suck the positive outlook from us before we even walk out the door. I realized recently that while I had very set morning rituals as a child, I've let most of those fall away as an adult. So I've been taking a closer look at what I do (or don't do) every morning. I think I lost some of my structure, ironically, when John and I first moved in together. It's much easier to do things in a set pattern when it's just you determining when things are done or how. 

But it's easy to cop out and become lazy, if lazy is the right word. My first cup of coffee is probably the last familiar part of my daily ritual, but it keeps me anchored. I check Facebook every morning, which has the potential of lifting my spirits or turning me into a raging ball of piss and vinegar. Then I wait for John to get up or at least for John's alarm to go off because I always wake up before he does. I start on breakfast. I feel like I'm caught somewhere between lover and mother hen as I'm making sure he's prepared for his day and hasn't forgotten something. This, of course, would be the days that I'm not working which are probably going to be more than the days I am working at least for now. 

I almost never start writing before he's out of the house. There's something about the early morning that I simply cannot bring myself to write on my stories. Maybe it's just having that focus that there's no one here but me and the cats. I know many writers have been successful with early morning writing, but I doubt I'll ever be one of them. I think my brain is not firing on all cylinders first thing in the morning and is disinclined to consider the intricacies of the written word. Still, I'm blogging, which is a form of writing, I suppose. Perhaps I can retrain myself with the early morning blog. 

Lately, I've begun a new ritual that takes place before the first cup of coffee when I'm still trying to pull myself to full consciousness. I take one card each from my oracle and tarot decks to lay on my table. I study the cards throughout the day and try to consider them as possibilities for improving the day. It's been rough realizing how often my emotional and/or spiritual health has taken a backseat so I'm trying to reclaim that a little bit at a time by changing my habits or at least adding to them. 

Bias and Free Speech

A little over a year ago, I was stressing through the final touches on an undergraduate thesis that looked at bias as related to reader response pedagogy. For those who aren't hip on education lingo, I was suggesting that we cannot expect people to read and analyze something without viewing it in light of their own experiences, which eliminates any intent to push students towards acceptance of new views and/or experiences as relates to literature. Without new mental tools that allow them to build away from what they think they know, humans will return to the familiar every single time. We learn nothing under those circumstances.

I like to consider myself a proponent of free speech, but I am finding myself stopping repeatedly short when it comes to hate speech. I know that, technically, people should be able to say whatever they want in a public forum, but... I'd like to see the hatred stop. I'm so tired of Kansas being synonymous with Brownback (who clearly hates women) and the Westboro Baptist Church who are militant in their hatred of the LGBQT community. A discussion of irony and hypocrisy gained the unwanted attention of someone who thought it was appropriate to post the word "fag" on my Facebook wall and we're not talking in the sense of the cigarette. I felt as dismayed and disgusted as if someone had spray painted it on my home or my car. I cleaned it up, I blocked the person, and I apologized to my friends. I didn't write it, but I felt like it had tainted something I owned; therefore, it felt like responsibility has shoved my way. As if I had to say to stomp with my shit-kicker boots on and say, "No, I don't condone this." 

And I don't condone hate speech or hateful actions. I feel as if we are pushing towards an empasse in American culture. Hate speech and anti-intellectualism have created a bizarre majority that seems determined to squelch out any sense of love, independent thought, and decency in America. What are we going to be after all those things are stripped away from mainstream society? I still have to ask the question, though, does the First Amendment truly grant the freedom for hateful people to say and do whatever they chose at the loss of other people's personal freedoms? Last time I checked, we were not supposed to be the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave... but just for those people over there who are white, affluent, heterosexual males... No, every citizen is supposed to have the same rights and privileges, but even more so, I think every human being deserves to be treated like one.

So I'm biased against hate speech, but I'm okay with that. 

Strange day of tiredness

So I'm a bit tired and weak; not entirely sure why. Mostly the heat, I'm sure, since I've not been doing as well with it lately. I've managed to scrawl a few hundred words and do some grocery shopping but other than that, I've been largely unproductive today. I'm thinking food and a nap, possibly a late night cleaning and writing session after I wake up but nothing so noisy as to annoy the neighbors. I'm nice that way, I guess. (Or I may just write later tonight and save the cleaning for another day.)

 Some of my tiredness might be relief. I keep thinking things must be moving in the right direction. At the very least they seem to be a slight bit better and haven't gotten any worse. This Zombie Warhol could moan and groan with the best of them right now. I might even have the shuffle-lurch down to a fine art.

I'm trying not to hope too much, which is maybe a bad habit to have, but I'm a bit tired of being knocked down by circumstances beyond my control. I know John is too, of course. However, his has just as much to do with specific people trying to knock him down, than just circumstances. The old adage about blood being thicker is not always true, but then... I suppose real family are the people who stick with you through the good and the bad. We've been fortunate to know and meet far more people who have been true family during the past year and a half while we struggled through this bad economy and other problems. Thank you all if we've not said it enough.

But I'm tired and up to closing this small series of thoughts for now.

Roundabouts

Some people simply stagnate and are determined to drag everyone else down with them. I feel like I'm watching them cycle over some malignant tumor of emotion that defines their sad, hateful, lackluster life. Normally, I would not care, I would not care, but these ugly patterns keep being forced on someone I care about who has no place in such a twisted roundabout. Oroboros has no place for creativity and chaos; it is the serpent of the infertile, the uninspired, and the damned of Law or Death or Eternity or whatever you wish to name it. We don't belong there and I'm ripping us out if I have to do it with my own two bare hands. There's life out there and an open road. I want to explore it and seek whatever is out there.

But right now, all I can see is this sick, damned, circle and I want to light it on fire.

Still summer

Roughly two years have passed since I started this blog, so it was time for an overhaul. Old posts and layout are gone, so that there's room for a fresh start. Life has a funny way of happening and doing strange things to us along the way. Mine seems to have been entirely concerned with fresh starts at least since the accident on Veteran's Day 2011.

April 13, 2012 was the day we moved back to Emporia. It was a Friday the 13th and we moved into Apartment 13. That was a breath of fresh air, a finally, a maybe, with a touch of hope. John's burned through two jobs since then and is looking at returning to school to study psychology. Taking hiatus from grad school was probably the best decision for me; I have the opportunity to take work that would allow me to use my degree. If not, I'd probably take any job that would give me enough hours to help me keep sane or is that insane? I'm not entirely sure. 

Boring, routine days leave me feeling drained. This insanely hot weather bothers me with its tendency to make me lazy and pool-addicted. Staying still will always bother me on some level; I bore too easily. I want to know what it feels like to be satisfied with what I'm doing as far as a job, but I would say that I'm feeling better than I was even a few weeks ago. 

Returning to the Matagot manuscript has been satisfying in its own right. Fiction writing is my childhood dream and I've felt the need to chase it once again. I should have picked it up again right after graduation but I needed some new experiences and then to cleanse myself from the horrible ones. Now, I think I understand my protagonist far better than I did when I first wrote her into existence. 

I'll probably be using the next few NaNoWriMos to keep pushing myself to get this novel fully on to paper  and edited. 

Right now, I am the Fool. I will follow the road where it takes me and try to learn my craft along the way. Wisdom will come or it will not, but I am not afraid to take the leap into the unknown.