Tag Archives: dreaming

Today is March 22, 2015. I am alive and shaking…

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…I won’t be going into why I”m so rattled, though.

I laugh because when I brought Grams and Annie home from the Humane Society they were basically feral. Now Grams is all over me most of the time. And Annie will come and snuggle up to me if I take a nap. Grams is a black fireball, always wanting to bring heat to my body. Annie is the soldier at the window, making certain we are safe. I am their mom, watching them prance around. Cats are certainly grateful.

I did not prance and was not graceful growing up. I was a gangly 6′ tall girl at 13. I left my body to spend time in my mind. I would appear to be sitting at my desk in ninth grade, but my eyes took a bow and I would be traveling by flight to Switzerland. I picked Switzerland because the Swiss seemed so beautifully neutral and anonymous. They don’t make the newspapers. There is no war in their country. I love chocolate and have a great respect for money.

While in Switzerland, I dreamt i covered huge canvases in bright colors. Today, they would be considered sister canvases to Rothko’s work. He the dark colors and me the bright. He the solemn one and me the free spirited one, a fly landing her and there and everywhere, terribly curious as to what the spot of life I live in brings. Rothko came to  a tragic end; he took his own life at a young age. I have had over ten suicide attempts in my lifetime. I am really bad at dying. It’s amazing that I will be 51 on Friday.

I live in my body today. I don’t need alcohol to do that for me like it did for so many years. My height at Christmas time is a beautiful thing; I can be in a crowded shopping mall and not suffocate.

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Today is February 4, 2015. I am alive and well.

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I have nine minutes to write something with weight. After that, it is time to get ready for work at the library.

Maybe I will write something light, something that can enter my ear, leave an imprint of sound, and then wander to the next room which is silent. The carpet needs the large sound of a vacuum cleaner. Today, I will not vacuum. Today, I will not invite anyone over. A person would sneeze and have to leave, the bottom of their soles thick with cat hair.

My soul settles on my head like a large soft summer hat. My long black hair remains visible. I am thinking of cutting my hair like one thinks to remove flowers from the top of the cake, making it lighter. My curls might have an easier time curling if they weren’t left with extra weight–the weight of long hair.

My soft summer hat is sweet in color, a pale purple. I will wear jeans and a white t-shirt with Converse sneakers after I get off work. To work, I will wear jeans and a black t-shirt with no hat and    boots. My heavy boots keep me in the library. I cannot float amidst the stack of books. I don’t want to float. I want to put the meditation book in its spot–294.34435, C4518h. There is a right spot for everything. I have learned to find the right spot in the library.

Outside the library, I drift at times, missing the chance to sit and dream from a spot that guarantees me purple skies with streaks of red; guarantees me the sight of an elephant on a leash, being pulled by a young girl with a black Mohawk, her smile as wide as my open door.

Today is December 17, 2014. I am alive and well.

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Before I begin, I want to say happy Chanukah to all those that celebrate this holiday.

As a young girl, I use to climb trees and dream that I was orphaned and being raised by monkeys. A thick branch of tree held my small body. The tree was in the front yard of my Grandparent’s home. Grass coated the lawn. I watched my sisters play in a side bar of the lawn that was muddy. They were making dishes. Shape the mud and let it dry. Viola, you have a bowl. I had no desire to play with them.

The craving of alone-ness would follow me into adulthood. My friends understand that I have to drift away from conversation and coffees to spend time alone in my room for hours with Grams and Annie my only company.

During this time, I read, write, and dream. I will admit that some of my dreams are of posterity. It is tiring to live paycheck by paycheck. I was in Macy’s the other day, and got depressed. Not being able to shop is like a cat wanting catnip from a ball that has no holes; the best they can do is bat it around and wish. The most I can do is try on clothes, admire them,wish, then return the shirts to the hangers from which they came.

I just spent all the money I was going to spend on Andrew, my new beau, on Annie. Annie had an upper respiratory infection. Cat visit plus $66 for the antibiotic. I nearly sat down and tapped the floor as if summoning a genie with a pocket full of gold. Chanukah is here. I am armed with a card for Andrew. I give him time, which I hope is a gift.

Happy holidays to all. May the New Year bring everything you dreamed of creating or having.