Creating Reality
The reality has shifted. I discovered it yesterday.
There is a story I was working on since last year, since the day I wandered over the mountain trails at twilight and a story came to me, whole and complete. It was a story about the end of the world.
There was something in the story, something that grabbed me. It was a variation on the apocalypse theme, with Earth shifting and changing rapidly to regain it’s balance, and human world being destroyed in the process. Cities were burned, leveled, flooded by tsunamis, wild fires, volcano eruptions, earthquakes. It was an epic story about reality changing. [click to continue…]
Christopher chose to begin today by talking about retirement options. As our financial situation improves and we don’t have to struggle to survive, he thought it would be good put money aside, to invest, or buy some retirement plan, or something of the kind.
I listened to him and it all seemed so wrong, the whole idea seemed so wrong when seen from the other side, the side we live our lives from. We never worried about safety, I thought, and said; we never worried about what will happen if…, we never imagined upcoming disasters and tried to protect ourselves from them, and the disasters never came, whatever happened we were always okay, I thought …. and said. [click to continue…]
I read a story today, written by a woman who found out that, due to her genetic code, she has about 80% chance of contracting breast and ovarian cancer. She chose, therefore, to have both her breasts and her ovaries removed. As a preventive measure.
I sat with this article all day today, rolling it this way and that. It seemed such a drastic reaction, such a heavy handed, barbaric reaction. “If your hand offends you, cut it off” sort of reaction. To mutilate oneself to prevent something that might not even happen.
But then it might happen. [click to continue…]
I talked to a friend yesterday. She was telling me about my being an inspiration for her. She sees me as a wonderful being, it seemed, so free, so creative. I listened to her and thought that she was so wrong.
It felt so wrong that she should think so well of me when I know how messed up I am, when I know how many days I spend unable to move, unable to function, because of my fears, of my pain. It was so not right that she should think me so present and creative when I know that most of the time I sit in a corner with my hypochondria smashing me to the ground, when I know that I spend weeks at the time doing nothing but imagining another type of cancer I surely have and will die from, and being terrified into absolute immobility. [click to continue…]
I’ve heard Brooks saying that ever since I met him. The statement felt right, seemed right and made a perfect sense, so I agreed with it and took it as a fact, but yesterday, for the first time (as far as I can remember), I realized that the world truly is not like this, this is simply how I see the world.
I was walking back to my drawing class from a lunch break and looking at myself, and I realized that my life has fallen into the orderly pattern of work and time off, of not working on weekends, of worrying about being at my computer on time every day, of fulfilling my duties and meeting my obligations. [click to continue…]
