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Monthly Archives: January 2016

Dreaming of Death

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Dali gets it…

Given the recent string of celebrity deaths, especially high profile celebrities like Alan Rickman and David Bowie, death has been a companion in my day-to-day doings. I walk to the mailbox and wonder what it would be like to have a heart attack and face-plant on the road. I wonder what it would be like if someone broke into my house and shot me point blank.

I wonder what it would be like if I got the news I had cancer and knew my days were going to be much more limited. I wonder if I should be worried at all because fate will take me when fate takes me and worrying is such a tiny human preoccupation. (Which is one of those things that give our life its blessing and curse – we are doomed to remember so much, yet blessed to remember at all). I grant you, it’s macabre. I can’t help it, I chalk it up to my imaginative writer brain exploring things from the deep well inside of each thing I explore.

At any rate, I went to bed last night feeling very good. My stomach aches were non-existent, my anxiety was nil, I really felt good in my mind, and my body. So it was interesting when I had a dream of going to a huge fair and getting on a ride that boasted it was three-times bigger than any other. It was an incredible version of a scrambler (combined with other things to make it one of the most unique experiences my brain has concocted yet). It could hold three-hundred people. Massive gears in the walls that spun massive wheels that ran on tracks. Me, my husband, my sister, my children… we all got on and had a fantastic ride. No one else was in line! We decided to go again.

This ride was housed in an enormous building, rides whatever the weather, you know? So we are going around again, lifted high into the sky, when my sister shouts to me, ‘Look over at that wheel, what is it doing?’ Sure enough, as I look over at the wheel gliding along its track, it is headed straight toward another wheel meant to elevate the riders (I know, wheels everywhere, tracks, confusing… bear with me). Obviously they collide.

Now here is where the dream goes from glee, to horror. The whole ride shudders. It groans aloud as the arms attached to the wheels buckle, then snap. It feels like slow motion as we spin in a way unintended and I feel the vibrations through my seat as the ride collapses onto the ground. Screams fill the air, I see the ground rushing up, and like magic… incredible magic, I breathe in slowly and say to myself, ‘Well, this is it.’

I hit the ground knowing my death has arrived. It goes black, then darker black and utter silence as the rest of the ride topples over me – I feel it crush me, though painlessly as I’ve accepted this fate. At this point, I think I actually stopped breathing in my sleep, because I can say… the totality of this darkness, this silence, this stillness that washed over me in the darkness was… much like when you go in to get an operation and they put you under… you’re simply gone.

dts

Beautiful “Dreamtime Sisters” by Colleen Wallace Nungari. (www.aboriginal store)

Then… a miracle. I begin to see the red of my eyelids. I literally think to myself, ‘I must be being born again,’ and I woke. There I was in my room, in my comfortable bed with heaps of blankets, having had what I can only say is something akin to a shamanic experience where my mind let me die to bring me back. Spiritual, because what I took from it is something I heard a woman say on a documentary as she took the drugs to end her life, ‘Oh, that wasn’t so hard… this isn’t hard at all…’

I don’t know what my end will be, when it will be, how it will be, where it will be… but I feel calmer this day. I was given a gift by my incredible brain, a teaching: when you accept something that seems unacceptable, when you stop fighting the flow of this mighty river of life, magic and miracles are sure to follow.

I think I needed that reminder, (and with luck, death will be exactly what I imagined it to be), because I’ve been fighting my nature and hearing that voice of gloom telling me, “You can’t.” Truth be told, I can. I just need to walk through the doors and create with all I’ve got. It’s all any of us can do, and everything we should do.

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Posted by on January 16, 2016 in Musings, Spirituality

 

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Thinking of You…

Thinking of You…

My first thought on walking back to my blog was… “Has it really been that long?” Good gravy, it has! It’s been almost two years since I last posted, but I have good reasons! At least I have to give myself the permission to see them as good reasons. Since this is a blog, allow me to explain.CRNewCoverTeaser

Since May of 2014, I have not only written two other novels since Carla’s Rivet along with getting a third ready for publishing, but have been working on Carla’s second edition (the one in which I finally can fix all the things that I didn’t like with the first edition). It will be given to the world in March, two years from the original publication date. I look at that and it already seems crazy…

I’ve been in disasters of theater which had me wondering what I’d done to land myself in actor purgatory. One of those actually sent me to the emergency room – so I’ll say it here – don’t ever let anyone get so far under your skin that you can’t dig them out. I should have left that rather abusive ride, but I stayed for some pretty wonderful cast-mates. They were the gold in the pile of… well… you know.

I have been dealing with some pretty crippling writer’s doubt as well. As I sit here banging out a first draft of my blog post (which makes me nervous, too), I have also figured out just how much money I will need to really push my next novel into the world… and it’s definitely a figure that makes that little voice in my head say, “Who do you think you are?” “Do you even think you have that kind of talent to ask the world for that money?” “Do you honestly believe you’ll be anything more than a nobody author?”

I tell you, that voice is incredibly nasty. Aneverythingd so, I look at other people creating art and taking no crap from anyone. I understand that I’m here to make words on paper – that’s all I can think about doing, it’s what I do even when I’m not doing it. So, it’s been a bit of a learning experience – giving myself room to feel insecure, but not letting myself absorb that voice’s opinions. I’m going to jump in this time, aim for the stars, shoot for the moon so even if I fail I’ve landed among them… all those idioms we use to simply say: ‘Do it already!’

I’ve handled anxiety so bad that I believe I may be sitting on a pre-ulcer, yes, I will get to the doctor soon. It’s distressing how much I’ve allowed the world to get to me this past year, but again, it’s allowing myself to feel bad but not beat myself up for being here. If I were to put a finger on it, frankly, it’s the Universe telling me that self-care is important. I think we all can learn from that.

So – in short – it’s been a bit of a crazy ride. I’m still not rich, I wish I had an amazing update to give in that department, but that I’m hoping is in the cards later. Hah! I won’t keep on with the negative, but I will end this post with this: I’m still here, I’m still breathing and grateful for it every day. I have a beautiful family supporting me with loving and gracious words, and through it all… I’m still writing, writing, writing and making the art that I hope the world will enjoy when I’m done.

Here’s to 2016 being a better year for all!

 
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Posted by on January 15, 2016 in Musings, Writing

 

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