I had a friend whose husband was named Loyal. He’s the only person I’ve with that name. According to one source, the name Loyal peaked in popularity in 1890 when it reached 555 on the list of top 1,000 boys’ names.
That friend and I lost touch after she moved to New York to be an arts administrator. That’s one small story in my life. I’ve met a lot of people over the years. I bet that you lose contact with the majority of people with whom you’ve been socially acquainted. If you move away from your hometown, friends from childhood slip away. I sometimes wonder how my next door neighbor is doing. We called ourselves best friends when we were 5, 6, 7, 8. My family moved out of state, and that was that. I heard she majored in Math in college. I would have never taken her for a numbers person. We probably would have drifted apart if I hadn’t moved. Who can know?
Is the Autumn of the year a time when we tend to ruminate on the past? Lately, I’ve felt like I’ve lived a thousand lives. It seems as if the places in my dreams are spots I have physically inhabited. There’s a dream I have where I find possessions that I hid away in an attic. It always seems so real that I expect to come across the items in my waking world. I keep asking the universe to tell me what is real and what is not. I probably know, but don’t know that I do.
I knew I wanted to write today, so I thought about it and then got nervous. I got myself a little worked up about what to write. Now I seem to be writing about the process of thinking and worrying about writing. Is it supposed to work this way?
Dreams are the New Reality
In one of my dreams last night, I was in some unknown location when a guy (I think he was Asian) asked me to meditate with him. I agreed to do so, and we sat down on the floor holding hands with eyes closed. The session was successful. The guy acquired lots of good energy from me, and I felt as if I helped him. The dream tells me that I'm on the right track in my spiritual pursuits. I am sure now that when I dream, I go to real places. I visit other planes of existence. I may have thousands of lives.
I bought some baby spinach the other day. I think I'll do a salad with strawberries. I need some almond slivers and red onion to add to it. I can either make my own vinaigrette or buy some.
Another food thought is to prep an onion or two and freeze them for later use. I think you can do that. What about garlic? I'll have to look it up.
I have sweet potatoes to cook as well as frozen salmon.
I've been doing yoga fairly regularly. I think it has improved my gait, but it could be that I'm just at a good walking time of my nutty hormonal cycle. It seems to work for me to do a session at 9 pm most weeknights.
I've been spending a lot of time practicing wrapped loops. I'm getting better at it. I made a necklace for Linda, one of the residents at my dad's assisted living facility. It's not perfect, but I'm happy with it. I thought the pendant was an angel, but I realized it must be a fairy after looking more closely at it.
I had a lion. We were playing, but when he started to get a little rough, I put him back in his cage.
In two separate dreams, I saved a young girl from a murderer. I remember repeatedly kicking the guy in the second dream through a Plexiglas door.
I watched this tutorial:
And part of this one:
I was inspired to search for royalty-free vintage photos of African American women. I'll need to apply my librarian skills to the task.
My mood was low yesterday. I think because I was tired. I wanted to have a good cry, but I couldn't wring out any tears. Chocolate would have surely improved my outlook. I will find some tonight.
Social media is dumb, but I do it for a living and take it seriously. I want to do it right.
My first piece for Science Node was published. It was edited a bit and doesn't feel like my writing. I plan to get a feel for what my editor wants and do better with the next one.
I finished listening to Don't Turn Around by Caroline Mitchell. It's the first of the detective Jennifer Knight books. Knight is a police officer in England with a connection to the paranormal. I was ready to listen to book two but found there's no audio version. I decided to read the Kindle edition on the Fire HD that I never use. After that I'll go to book three which is available on audio.
I'm also listening to DMT: The Spirit Molecule by Richard Strassman. It's about the scientific exploration into the psychedelic compound Dimethyltryptamine. Read the description here.
A community of geese lives at the pond near the assisted living facility where my dad lives. They walk up and down the sidewalk by the pond and sometimes cross the traffic roundabout to feed on grass in the median. Today some idiot hit one with a car. We saw it lying dead in the road and watched as five or so geese stood looking at him (or her). It was so sad, and there was no need for it to happen. We also saw a lone blue heron on the bank of the pond. That is one majestic bird.
I'm going to try and be productive tomorrow. I'll cook some food, take pictures of my bracelets to list on Etsy, and maybe list some sports cards on eBay. We'll see how that goes.
Last night I dreamed about the importance of documenting my life via blog or journal. I think I was able to look something up in a blog and figure out something about my life. I can’t remember what it was, though.
I’m convinced that there is an afterlife. I’ve always suspected it, but after listening to the podcast, Real Ghost Stories Online, I am a believer. Do we go on forever, or is there an eventual end to our post-corporeal existence? It can’t be healthy to dwell upon these matters. I should stick to the life that I have now.
Earlier today I had the thought that everything will be okay. I’m not sure where it came from, but it was reassuring. The momentary calm that accompanied the thought is no longer with me.
I slept in yesterday and today. I dreamed this morning about being in a large auditorium. There was a tennis ball that belonged to me but had gotten away. People in the seats were throwing it around trying to get it back to me. I couldn’t catch it. I like to think that my dreams are never meaningless. I want to believe there is something to be learned from the seemingly random stories my sleeping mind produces. I don’t know what to make of this tennis ball dream.
I’ve been watching a web series called The Outs. It’s a well-written and produced Vimeo original. It’s mainly about the lives of two gay men and their straight female friend. I recommend it to those who are not averse to such a theme. While in the Vimeo app, I came across a short called The Perfect Fourth. This was a story about a guy purchasing the guitar of a boy who had recently died. There was kind of a surprise twist to the story.
There’s not much to report when you get up late. It’s another hot day, but I can’t stay in. Rehearsal is at 4:00.
Here’s some digital art.
1. Why didn’t I major in English?
2. Will I ever go to sleep at night and not wake up at 3 am -without a sleep aid?
3. Am I kidding myself?
4. Should I give up my dream?
5. Do I really know what my dream is?
6. What do I want to be when I grow up?
7. Why does a 42 year-old ask a question like the previous one?
8. Are there alternate realities in other dimensions?
9. Can I leave here for a while and then come back?
10. Will I always be indecisive?
11. Do I really believe that my day will come?
12. Is my day already here?
Sometimes I think I’d like to be known for something
Be great at something
But then I think about all the work it would take
To be great
Then I pause
If I even have what it takes
If I have the necessary moxie, gumption, chutzpah, nerve
Sometimes I think I do
Sometimes I dream great big dreams
Dreams that make mice out of elephants
Then I begin to try
And I begin to tire
And I say, save the work for another day
Greatness could be overrated
Maybe I could just get by
And be satisfied
With what I have and
With what I am
I just can’t seem to decide