PROOF OF GOD!
…and other tragedies.
Mania, Hopefulness, and Postmodern Deconstruction
As Experienced by F.R.R.
This is the text from a small zine I put together to memorialize a particularly inspiring and destructive manic episode, characterized by big ideas, pictures of clouds, and mental health stigma. If you are interested in a print-copy, email thefurstone@gmail.com.
_______________________________________________________________
2011 will be a better year. I will focus on proving myself.
Stupid manic kundalini crisis. All the signs were there. I think word kundalini sounds gross and I am squeamish about New Age folks and all their white robes and hyperbolic chanting. I wasn’t looking for anything, and now I am a saint, a yogi, or a mentally ill loser – it just depends on how you look at it. I’d prefer to think of myself as someone who is just trying to make the best of the hand I was dealt – to learn from it, to be a better person because of it.
I think it was a fairly ordinary experience for a thinking and feeling human being to have gone through...except all the devices of drama bungled it terribly and instead of trying to simply accept that I was shedding all the onion skins of ordinary heartache, struggling in some totally human way...well, I tried to explain it, tried to frame it, and - being the resourceful idiot that I am - tried to do something with it...because I feel guilty if I let things go to waste...
I felt like the world was becoming new again…it was beautiful and hopeful and full of possibility in a way that it hadn’t been since I was about nine years old.
I believed so strongly in goodness and possibility...I must have seemed insane.
I felt like the world was becoming new again…it was beautiful and hopeful and full of possibility in a way that it hadn’t been since I was about nine years old.
I believed so strongly in goodness and possibility...I must have seemed insane.
As someone once asked me:
“Who does that? Really, people don’t do that!”
I didn’t think to ask why. I was too alarmed to think that I had broken script so severely that I wasn’t even worthy of being included in ‘people’ anymore. From now on, I will ask why…
Why are we so cold to eachother?
*****
“Men have called me mad but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence–whether much that is glorious–whether all that is profound–does not spring from disease of thought–from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect.”— Edgar A. Poe
(from Wikipedia…good old Wikipedia.)
Mania varies in intensity, from mild mania (known as hypomania) to full-blown mania with psychotic features including hallucinations, delusion of grandeur, suspiciousness, catatonic behavior, aggression, and a preoccupation with thought and schemes that may lead to self neglect.[4] . The frequency of manic episodes varies, but on average, manic episodes occur every 2-4 years.
Naturally, since mania and hypomania have also been associated with creativity and artistic talent[6], it is not always the case that the clearly manic bipolar person will need or want medical assistance; such people will often either retain sufficient amount of control to function normally or be unaware that they have "gone manic" severely enough to be committed or to commit themselves ('commitment' is a euphemism for admission to a psychiatric facility). Manic individuals can often be mistaken for being on drugs or other mind-altering substances.
The manic state of late-summer 2010 was brought on, I believe, by emotional duress (the death of a pet, the loss of a friend, a challenging set of family stresses) mis-medication (I was put on venlafaxine, an antidepressant) by a nurse practicioner who was unaware (as was I) of my vulnerability to serotonin overload, and over-use of commercial energy drinks containing megadoses of vitamin B-6 – which increases metabolism of serotonin.
I felt like I was on top of the world. I did not understand why people were concerned – it was obvious that I was a brilliant artist…wasn’t it?
No. I guess it wasn’t.
There wasn’t much of a problem until I started trying to prove God by deconstructing photographs of cloudforms. The process was exacerbated by reading postmodern theory. Clinically, postmodernism can be a dangerous thing for someone in a state of hypomania. I deconstructed the whole world…and it scared me.
My family saw that I was struggling, but their concern seemed to lack compassion and so I retreated further into art and ideas…into an imaginary world where anything was possible…an imaginary world that I could save.
When people began harassing me with accusations of being ‘unfit’ to care for my children, when they began keeping the kids away from me – as if I were somehow dangerous – my heart broke.
I was writing about hope and goodness, but people made it ugly. I felt completely alone.
I left the door to my house open because I wanted to live in a world where you could leave your door open.
Why did they call the police? I have no idea. People can be quite judgmental, can’t they?
On September 11, 2010 I decided that I was tired of sitting in my home alone. I thought about how long it had been since I had friends. I thought about how everybody was being so mean and how my kids were being led to believe that I was just some terriblyflawedcrazy loser who couldn’t do anything right.
I met two people on the street – they needed a place to stay, but they didn’t ask to stay at my house. I invited them to, just for a couple of days. I think now about how sad it was – that the only way I felt like I could have any measure of social support, of kindness, was to invite ‘strangers’ into my home. They weren’t creepy people. I am a little fearful of most people and I figured out quickly that these people could be trusted. How? Because they looked me in the eye and because they weren’t sure about staying at my house. I felt safe with them.
Everything was backwards – my family scared me, strangers comforted me.
We played music and made potatoes and talked about language and all its boundaries. We sat at the edge of the field, three losers sitting in a row, watching the sun go down. I needed people to be nice to me, to appreciate me, to keep me company while my life was being torn apart – less by mania and more by people’s reactions to mania. I didn’t realize that my fast-found friends would be used against me. I thought I was doing something nice, setting a good example of generosity and tolerance. I was trying to finding goodness in the world.
When my family had me committed, they told the magistrate that I ‘thought I was telepathic with strangers and invited them to live in my house.’ I had told them that I ‘recognized’ my new friends as being good people.
I just wanted friends.
“Research over the past four decades has compellingly demonstrated that individuals diagnosed as having mental illness are socially stigmatized or discriminated against on several dimensions by key individuals in their social networks and communities. For example, studies have found that employers, families of patients, mental health workers, and prospective landlords - all endorsed devaluing statements about or discriminated against mentally ill individuals. The degree of stigmatization has been found to be positively associated with the manifest severity of the mental disorder; however, even persons who have minimal signs of mental illness, that is, those who appear "troubled," may be stereotyped and rejected.” Stigma as a Barrier to Recovery: Adverse Effects of Perceived Stigma on Social Adaptation of Persons Diagnosed With Bipolar Affective Disorder
Deborah A. Perlick, Ph.D., Robert A. Rosenheck, M.D., John F. Clarkin, Ph.D., Jo Anne Sirey, Ph.D., Jamelah Salahi, B.S., Elmer L. Struening, Ph.D. and Bruce G. Link, Ph.D.
The patient is a 34-year-old female with a history of bipolar disorder who presented under involuntary
petition placed by her father. The patient upon evaluation was found to be manic with an inability to
maintain a linear conversation with the interviewer. She was also grandiose, talking about how
because her intelligence is so elevated, she has an elevated processing speed and that it is difficult
for her to slow down for other people. The patient was noted to have flight of ideas, tangential
thought processes and pressured speech. The patient was resumed on her Zyprexa, which was
increased to 30 mg daily. In addition, her Depakote was titrated to 1000 mg twice daily. The patient
showed decreased psychotic symptoms; however, as per her physician Dr. K., she
appeared to deteriorate at higher levels of Zyprexa, so this was decreased back down to 20 mg q.h.s.
When I took over for Dr. K., the patient was much more linear with less pressured speech,
and much better organized. She continued to be somewhat labile, but this always was in relation to
her family, especially conversations with her mother, who appears to cause the patient much distress.
The patient began to complain that she felt like she was starting to do worse on the unit as she had
multiple stressors, including the managing of the custody case with her children, and her coping
mechanisms, which included playing banjo and crocheting, could not be accessed on the inpatient
unit. This was discussed with the team, who largely agreed with her and felt like she was at a point
where even though she was still somewhat tearful, she would do better if she was at home and could
manage her affairs. The patient presented the idea of partial hospitalization as a stepdown plan, and I
agree with this is an appropriate discharge plan. Care was coordinated with the Partial Hospitalization
Program and with her family. All parties agreed that this was an appropriate next step. Upon
discharge, the patient, while still sometimes tearful, had much more stable mood and was motivated
for continued treatment.
The only time I have ever had a hallucination was when I was in the hospital, overmedicated by olanzapine –
Seek medical attention right away if any of these SEVERE side effects occur when using Zyprexa Intramuscular: Severe allergic reactions (rash; hives; itching; difficulty breathing; tightness in the chest; swelling of the mouth, face, lips, or tongue; unusual hoarseness); abnormal thoughts; chest pain; confusion; decreased urination; fainting; fast, slow, or irregular heartbeat; fever, chills, or persistent sore throat; increased saliva production or drooling; increased sweating; memory loss; menstrual changes; muscle pain, weakness, or stiffness; new or worsening mental or mood changes (eg, depression, hallucinations); seizures; severe or prolonged dizziness or headache; shortness of breath; suicidal thoughts or actions; swelling of the hands, legs, or feet; symptoms of high blood sugar (eg, increased thirst, hunger, urination, unusual weakness); tremor; trouble concentrating, speaking, or swallowing; trouble sitting still; trouble walking or standing; uncontrolled muscle movements (eg, arm or leg movements, twitching of the face or tongue, jerking or twisting); unusual bruising; vision changes; yellowing of the skin or eyes. THEY WERE NOT CONCERNED.
"Seriously. I don't understand why people settle for such a small offense-defense existence. It just seems very petty to me. I really think that commercial media has abused us all into submission...fear and consumption, eating us alive. The saddest thing is that our created 'realities' aren't even real...or good. How did we get into this mess? It's as if nobody remembers what it's like to be actually human, we all just seem to be stuck in our roles as workers and consumers. Even the 'artists' among us strike me as being just placeholders, role players...nobody seems to feel much anymore, huh?
I guess all that sounds fairly negative. It just makes me terribly sad that this is the world my kids live in, that they will inherit this empty husk of heart and toxic habitat. And for what? So that the corporations can be in the black and the military industrial complex can strong arm us all as part of their warped war games. It really makes no sense to me. It doesn't make sense to a lot of people, but it doesn't seem to change.
It's funny - when I was a little kid, already worried about world, I'd look at all the different churches down in St. Mary's and wonder how they all believed in the same thing but sat in different buildings and sang different songs. I always wanted to save the world:) Which is unrealistic, I know. Totally naive.
The thing is, I figured out a long time ago that the only thing that could possibly re-route us would be the return of some undeniable God. Early this summer, when I was wrecked and heartbroken on my front porch and started noticing natural phenomena that I couldn't explain and began to feel suddenly awake and alive and hopeful...well, I just ran with it. Ran right off a damn cliff, it seems:) Most people would probably have been content to be 'born again' and just go nuts over Jesus or something. But, nooooo, I had to go and try to prove God.
I guess all that sounds fairly negative. It just makes me terribly sad that this is the world my kids live in, that they will inherit this empty husk of heart and toxic habitat. And for what? So that the corporations can be in the black and the military industrial complex can strong arm us all as part of their warped war games. It really makes no sense to me. It doesn't make sense to a lot of people, but it doesn't seem to change.
It's funny - when I was a little kid, already worried about world, I'd look at all the different churches down in St. Mary's and wonder how they all believed in the same thing but sat in different buildings and sang different songs. I always wanted to save the world:) Which is unrealistic, I know. Totally naive.
The thing is, I figured out a long time ago that the only thing that could possibly re-route us would be the return of some undeniable God. Early this summer, when I was wrecked and heartbroken on my front porch and started noticing natural phenomena that I couldn't explain and began to feel suddenly awake and alive and hopeful...well, I just ran with it. Ran right off a damn cliff, it seems:) Most people would probably have been content to be 'born again' and just go nuts over Jesus or something. But, nooooo, I had to go and try to prove God.
Ps. If ANYBODY OUT THERE has a child who is beautiful and good and smart (and especially if they are 'ugly' or dumb') - and they just can't seem to get it together...well, please don't let anyone call them crazy and don't give them drugs unless you AND your child understand exactly why the chemical is needed by your child's developing brain and body and how it works and what the LONGTERM consequences may be.
Please visit www.theicarusproject.net for information, support, and perspective re: 'mental illness' and what might help and what might hurt...
Help your child to KNOW that they are beautiful in their way and let them see you tell the world that you believe in them.
Please visit www.theicarusproject.net for information, support, and perspective re: 'mental illness' and what might help and what might hurt...
Help your child to KNOW that they are beautiful in their way and let them see you tell the world that you believe in them.
| There is no way in hell. | 1 (6%) |
| Possibly. | 5 (31%) |
| Sweet Jesus! This girl is proving God! | 6 (37%) |
| Faith is crazy. | 4 (25%) |
Votes so far: 16
Poll closed
Poll closed
People take their beliefs very seriously. The only thing I believe in is the possibility that we all may be awfully confused about it all.
I was trying to find a connection…
This is a collection of excerpts from the blog that wrecked my life, with some current reflection on the mania of 2010.
The writings are no longer available to the online public. My intention is to use some of the 285,000 words I wrote between July 2009 and December 2010 as a means to better understand my own little view of the world, as well as to inform and inspire others to be brave in their honesty, wise in their fear, and lofty (yes, lofty!) in their dreams.
I am a 34 year old mother of two who tried very hard to be ordinary and, in doing so, stifled some of my most vital truths. I have been involved in the mental health care system since I was 12 years old and I sometimes wonder if it did more harm than good – all that battling with my own brain, all that arguing with my heart.
I just do the best I can…and I think I am totally amazing. We all are.
*****
“In my walking and talking life, I tried to explain that I was okay. It was hard to try to hold the whole world and all its history in my mind...to try to accept the things we've done, the things we are doing. A lot of it is, to me, simply unacceptable. I felt like this was a necessary inquiry...whether people would be interested, would listen, would care? These are important questions.
I didn't set out to try to prove God, but when I thought about the subjective nature of it all and then began to consider the possibility that all our stories are connected in ways that are as evident as clouds...well, it seemed important to me. I am, as I have said before, very naive when it comes to people. I am skeptical when it comes to a lot of things, but I - like most people - know what I know. However, I sometimes forget that other people don't know what I know, nor do they care to.”
I didn't set out to try to prove God, but when I thought about the subjective nature of it all and then began to consider the possibility that all our stories are connected in ways that are as evident as clouds...well, it seemed important to me. I am, as I have said before, very naive when it comes to people. I am skeptical when it comes to a lot of things, but I - like most people - know what I know. However, I sometimes forget that other people don't know what I know, nor do they care to.”
From my final post, 12/23/2010
IT IS ENTIRELY POSSIBLE THAT THE SKY IS AN INSTRUMENT!
Monday, December 20, 2010
The content of this blog should be read as a story...a fumbling and seeking true story of a human heart busted and rebuilt better than before. It started as a simple project: to draw a picture everyday for a year. It was through the process of sketch and erase and re-draw that I figured out how to see things clearly and that clarity of sight blindsided me in ways most unexpected.
There is a lovely account of what goes through one's mind when they re-discover their own intelligence, suspect that they are proving it all and then subsequently realize that nobody cares. It is best read as a postmodern social experiment in pushing benevolent alarm buttons and the crippling surprise of realizing that the sound emitted is nothing more than the clicking of keys.
A lot of it is totally ridiculous...some of it has been damning in ways I never would have anticipated...there is some strange and brilliantly honest thread that runs through it all...humanity?
There is a lovely account of what goes through one's mind when they re-discover their own intelligence, suspect that they are proving it all and then subsequently realize that nobody cares. It is best read as a postmodern social experiment in pushing benevolent alarm buttons and the crippling surprise of realizing that the sound emitted is nothing more than the clicking of keys.
A lot of it is totally ridiculous...some of it has been damning in ways I never would have anticipated...there is some strange and brilliantly honest thread that runs through it all...humanity?
December 20, 2010
I have always thought in image. I thought everybody considered their lives as recalled pictures, old movies in their minds. When the right angles hung white and drifting, they struck me as lightning bolts, or simple letters written by hands that somehow hold my own in that fashioned double-helixed dance of damned heredity. The clouds somehow appeared as more than they were and in focusing on the drift of vapor and light, it occurred to me that all our oldest stories are mostly about the sky.
I have always thought in image. I thought everybody considered their lives as recalled pictures, old movies in their minds. When the right angles hung white and drifting, they struck me as lightning bolts, or simple letters written by hands that somehow hold my own in that fashioned double-helixed dance of damned heredity. The clouds somehow appeared as more than they were and in focusing on the drift of vapor and light, it occurred to me that all our oldest stories are mostly about the sky.
I walked around in circles, imagining that footsteps would make some sense of the world. The equations of ritual are unknown to me; I had only instinct and that great hopeful feeling exploding my heart like a million birds taking flight all at once.
...and I kept looking up to see where they may be going.
The wind was stirred as if by wings and I wished with my whole heart that everyone in the entire fighting and fearing world would just stop. I only want the world to stop, to start over, to finally get it right. Is that so wrong a thing to wish for?
...and I kept looking up to see where they may be going.
The wind was stirred as if by wings and I wished with my whole heart that everyone in the entire fighting and fearing world would just stop. I only want the world to stop, to start over, to finally get it right. Is that so wrong a thing to wish for?
I know I am a fool, but there are far worse things to be.
(No, haters - I didn't actually think birds were flying in my chest, nor did I expect to see them when I looked up. I am just writing. The world is, to me, still a beautiful place...full of possibility and wonder. I am tired of seeing greedy and self-righteous people mess it up. Forgive me if that seems insane.)
09/29/2010
If you adjust the contrast, you can make it all disappear. Art doesn't save lives, it just changes them. The saving part just depends on where we let our perspective take us...
Even when the police came to take me to the hospital...called by the power of my father by proxy of the magistrate..."Um, yes, ma'am?"
"Sheesh...really? Well, can I have a cigarette first?"
I knew it was likely to happen...I was on heavy lock down in all my dark corners and the youngest officer had the kindest brown eyes...I couldn't bear the thought of him thinking he was scaring me. I was all jokes about the three cars and the pat down, but the handcuffs hurt.
"Sheesh...really? Well, can I have a cigarette first?"
I knew it was likely to happen...I was on heavy lock down in all my dark corners and the youngest officer had the kindest brown eyes...I couldn't bear the thought of him thinking he was scaring me. I was all jokes about the three cars and the pat down, but the handcuffs hurt.
It's all just policy and procedure, isn't it? Yup.
I kept up my writing and crochet and drawing the best I could with the constraints inherent in full hospitalization. Tried to simultaneously think about the kids and not think about the kids. It hurts to think of their faces, their voices...the promises I could keep after all. "I promise I will fix it, okay? I will, it will just take some time. I promise."
Re: "What do I 'see' in the clouds...
In all those wisps of grey scale shadow and too-bright sun...well, I guess it just depends on how you look at it. If you are a lonesome-ish woman prone to whimsy and wistfulness...well, everything...faces and eyes and tails made of smoke...I see everything.
Other people may just see clouds, and that - my friends - is perfectly alright. The point I have finally come to make is that...well, f*ck it...there just might not be a point. There may be not one single stupid point in all of it.
I spent the past two weeks involuntarily committed. I didn't argue, because sometimes arguing just makes things worse. Sometimes standing up for yourself just makes it easier for people to knock you off balance.
In all those wisps of grey scale shadow and too-bright sun...well, I guess it just depends on how you look at it. If you are a lonesome-ish woman prone to whimsy and wistfulness...well, everything...faces and eyes and tails made of smoke...I see everything.
Other people may just see clouds, and that - my friends - is perfectly alright. The point I have finally come to make is that...well, f*ck it...there just might not be a point. There may be not one single stupid point in all of it.
I spent the past two weeks involuntarily committed. I didn't argue, because sometimes arguing just makes things worse. Sometimes standing up for yourself just makes it easier for people to knock you off balance.
December 25th Update: These are writings from a very strange time in my life. A lot of it is just scrambling, trying to save my own heart. I wrote as if the hopes I hoped would become actual, imagined clearly what it might be like to have a new beginning for us all...I wanted everything to stop so bad.
This sh*t sounds crazy,
I admit it.
I wasn't, however, running around town ranting...I was writing at home and drawing and doing dishes and feeding animals and trying reallyreally hard not to think about reality because, at that point, it flat-out hurt to consider the facts of my reality. I was escaping into hope and old spirit, holding onto whatever I had. There were a lot of misunderstandings and I wish that they could all just fall away. Peace.
I believe that what I saw was simply a mish-mash of everything that our two fundamental lines can draw...
/ and )
...toss them together on a big enough canvas and stare long enough and eventually even the godless will see God. The old man at the convenience store believes that I am worthy of his holiest and most open smile...he clasps my hands between his own and I feel peaceful and I hope the words he says are kind. I don't understand them. Nor he mine...
We just smile and nod...'God?' 'Good?' 'Yes.' 'Okay.'
We just smile and nod...'God?' 'Good?' 'Yes.' 'Okay.'
I wanted to see what would happen. I hoped that I would come home and all my files would be missing and there would be people taking care of everything that needs to be taken care around here. I knew that it was unlikely. However, I reminded myself, I do have proof or evidence or something that could answer a lot of questions if the material was perceived as being the product of a clever, if not a little desperate, seeker...who seemed to find some points of connection...09/16/2010
***gaslighting*** (delusion?) ~confusion~
I will be happy to explain to someone the exact points of connect and disconnect and all the ways I have known whose mind I am on...
I am not a game and if we are played much further...well, that sort of defeats the whole purpose, doesn't it...it just plays us in a different way and - yeah, it's awesome...but, I am really sort of over having the information I have, as valuable as it is, and giving it so freely for so long...ya'll need to honor your intent and if you are going to connect us...let us make use of those connections in a way that accomplishes what we need to accomplish...which is really just fairly simple storytelling and joyful reparation...
I am sick of being played by one party or another and if you want an ounce of information about my experience in pulling this story together, how I understand it to work, and what the purpose of the recognition of 2010 is...well, you need to help. Bottom line.
We have worked our minds exceedingly hard and opened our hearts and our spines and embraced strangers and frightened the fearful loved ones...
WHAT THE F*CK! If you would just call my parents and explain it all to them...well, that'd be great. I know that people get hurt when they don't understand and PLEASE...fix this now, before another 'enlightened' experiment goes awry and fucks up more lives in ways that are deeply destructive...
This has ceased to be entertaining.
09/09/2010
READY. SET. STOP.
Just how exactly do you re-build a bubble...?
Sorry, I forgot to ask.
Thanks for AT LEAST ACKNOWLEDGING MY MESSAGE...
I am definitely, if NOTHING ELSE,
A GENIUS.
hahaahhahhaahah
see: IT MEANS NOTHING TO YOU:)
So, HARD TO READ...
isn't it...?
Sorry, I forgot to ask.
Thanks for AT LEAST ACKNOWLEDGING MY MESSAGE...
I am definitely, if NOTHING ELSE,
A GENIUS.
hahaahhahhaahah
see: IT MEANS NOTHING TO YOU:)
So, HARD TO READ...
isn't it...?
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
2.6 is the percentage of Americans with bipolar disorder and is also the percentage of the IQ tested population that has a disparity between areas of intelligence as big as the disparity between my verbal and spatial intelligence. That means that some parts of my brain are much smarter than others and so I am always leaping back and forth over the gap, making up the distance with words.
I was just writing to keep writing, laying down a thread that I could pick up again. It was a long summer.
| 5:06 AM We are not friends anymore. (7 minutes ago) |
Wow. I am SO GLAD THAT you missed the point ENTIRELY...your life is great because YOU BOTH WOKE up. I am glad...I am not trying to hurt anyone...except for the things that make it hard for us to feel. It's okay. I'll sort it out. I am solid as a rock...and when people get out of the mode of thinking about everything in terms of OFFENSE AND DEFENSE...well, that'll be a great day...perhaps a cold one in hell, but great.
It is all a big, very simple experiment - choose to see me as good and hopeful and making use of available resources...or keep snarling. I am glad that you have a certainty in your voice and that you and the people you care about are able to look one another in the eye...
I am not going to call a lawyer or mothball anything. I don't want to cause problems...remember, I only wanted you to BE NICE TO EACHOTHER...
I am HAPPY, too. Big happy. Hopeful happy. I am not crazy. I am just manipulating our silly "old" perception of what is sane and true in order to prove a very important point.
Thank YOU, for being brave enough to talk about me and to resolve the issue of (my name) and her REMARKABLE HEART AND BRAVERY in asking for help.
You guys are awesome. Really. Thank you for being nice to eachother. I am not trying to HURT anyone. I just figured out that the paradigm of choosing to see one another's reactions to HONEST INQUIRY in the context of offense and defense...well, it's a bummer. I am so glad that even IN THE CONTENT of your letter...you are all whatever -
Well, your heart is in the right place...still. You're awesome. Funny how sarcastic niceness seems these days...
Remember - if you ever speak my name, be kind.
It is all a big, very simple experiment - choose to see me as good and hopeful and making use of available resources...or keep snarling. I am glad that you have a certainty in your voice and that you and the people you care about are able to look one another in the eye...
I am not going to call a lawyer or mothball anything. I don't want to cause problems...remember, I only wanted you to BE NICE TO EACHOTHER...
I am HAPPY, too. Big happy. Hopeful happy. I am not crazy. I am just manipulating our silly "old" perception of what is sane and true in order to prove a very important point.
Thank YOU, for being brave enough to talk about me and to resolve the issue of (my name) and her REMARKABLE HEART AND BRAVERY in asking for help.
You guys are awesome. Really. Thank you for being nice to eachother. I am not trying to HURT anyone. I just figured out that the paradigm of choosing to see one another's reactions to HONEST INQUIRY in the context of offense and defense...well, it's a bummer. I am so glad that even IN THE CONTENT of your letter...you are all whatever -
Well, your heart is in the right place...still. You're awesome. Funny how sarcastic niceness seems these days...
Remember - if you ever speak my name, be kind.
Evaluation Sources
Interviews, Mental Status Examination, Review of Mental Health Records, Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory - Adult Version (MMPI-2), Millon Multi-Axial Clinical Inventory (MCMI-III), Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale - Third Edition (WAIS-III), Substance Abuse Subtle Screening Inventory for Adults (SASSI-3).
Composite Score Percentile Rank Range
Full Scale IQ 141 99.7 Very Superior
Verbal IQ 147 99.9 Very Superior
Performance IQ 122 93 Superior
Verbal Comprehension Index 140 99.6 Very Superior
Perceptual Organization Index 128 97 Superior
Working Memory Index 136 99.0 Superior
Intelligence is nothing…
if your heart is wired wrong.
I would like to propose that the electromagnetic field affects humans and that humans, et. al. affect the electromagnetic field. To think that the two exist in relative isolation of one another is simply illogical.
I am not proposing that the electromagnetic field has a conscience or a store of knowledge. That would be silly, like imagining that some old man lives in the sky. Utterly foolish. I am proposing that electrical activity has particular characteristics and that those characteristics may be interpreted by humans as feelings or sense, and that those interpretations can be reinforced by our bodies of knowledge - double entendre fully intended. Our physical bodies, built by ancient blueprints, have more sense than we give them credit for in our modern busy worlds.
I am not proposing that the electromagnetic field has a conscience or a store of knowledge. That would be silly, like imagining that some old man lives in the sky. Utterly foolish. I am proposing that electrical activity has particular characteristics and that those characteristics may be interpreted by humans as feelings or sense, and that those interpretations can be reinforced by our bodies of knowledge - double entendre fully intended. Our physical bodies, built by ancient blueprints, have more sense than we give them credit for in our modern busy worlds.
I. Experienced human consciousness as cognitively interpreted electrical activity
"Sense" can be thought of as electron-based reactions to environmental stimuli, as even silly taste relies on ionic reception. Interpretations are learned and conditioned, mediated by culture and reinforced internally by hormones released in response to cultural reactions to our sense, approval and - conversely - fear, mold our interpretations of our culturally neutral natural environments. Therefore, as our learned interpretations develop we literally see, hear, smell, feel, taste things differently.
*see earlier posts regarding conscious thought as learned translations of electrical impulses, 'like binary code becomes text on a computer screen.' Just a thought...no pun intended. December 19, 2010
"Sense" can be thought of as electron-based reactions to environmental stimuli, as even silly taste relies on ionic reception. Interpretations are learned and conditioned, mediated by culture and reinforced internally by hormones released in response to cultural reactions to our sense, approval and - conversely - fear, mold our interpretations of our culturally neutral natural environments. Therefore, as our learned interpretations develop we literally see, hear, smell, feel, taste things differently.
*see earlier posts regarding conscious thought as learned translations of electrical impulses, 'like binary code becomes text on a computer screen.' Just a thought...no pun intended. December 19, 2010
They were like rainbows being born breech on the day before yesterday.
I am trying to maintain some of my summer optimism and to again harness the feeling of graceful benevolence that made the world seem so solidly full of possibility. I can't wait to get a job. I crave working...to be useful to someone. I am laying the groundwork for better days, enrolling in classes and sending out resumes and applications. I am making all my appointments and fulfilling all the requirements that have been established, but it doesn't seem to make any difference. This just seems to go on forever. I should go volunteer somewhere, but I feel simply covered up...like the tired ground beneath the snow outside.
I have deconstructed so many bubbles, broken down so many processes in language vast and varied...yet somehow I cannot seem to erode my own encapsulation and with every effort to step boldly forward, I find that I have been routed onto an impossibly circular course and that the people who laid out these lines will not allow them to be erased, though they are clearly drawn poorly. (December)
I have deconstructed so many bubbles, broken down so many processes in language vast and varied...yet somehow I cannot seem to erode my own encapsulation and with every effort to step boldly forward, I find that I have been routed onto an impossibly circular course and that the people who laid out these lines will not allow them to be erased, though they are clearly drawn poorly. (December)
And sometimes you are right and sometimes you are wrong...and sometimes, I have found, it seems that I perceive a narrative possibility dead-on...and it's almost like I read your mind. It is more likely that I simply considered all known variables and simply ran the range of reactions to circumstance/stimuli and anticipated that which seemed most likely given what I know about you...which is extremely limited in most cases...and so I screw it up...because I realize that most people don't really feel much about anything...or not in a way that I can feel. I have had times when I could sense a person's genuine enthusiasm, or anger, or wonder...and it is something akin to harmonics...
It is so weird to me that - with so many people, I know they care very deeply and very sincerely about so many things, but I just FEEL nothing from them. Which I guess is normal? I mean, most people don't go around FEELING other people, do they?
It's like we're just stunned or something...robots in motion at play in bed asleep…
(July/drawing October)
SUMMER
“I just wonder why people put up with it and what it would take to make corporations more accountable. It doesn't even make sense. I would think that in Washington, which is so beleaguered with corporate interests it barely functional...well, I would think that they could just disallow lobbyists from corporate industries. I mean really, it is flat out ridiculous that we give neuroleptics to abused children who have anger issues. And Bud Light shows ads rank with 80s-style sexism during frickin' Whale Wars...
oh my gosh - I just realized it is so 1984. Holy mackerel. Even American Apparel is featuring pleated pants this season. Sick. Did you know that Pandora can and does sync to your facebook profile to pull information about you based on your fb actions to customize your listening experience. And so all those likes and dislikes and shares and all of it can be tallied and interpreted to make it just right for you. Isn't that nice? And did you know that by analyzing consumer interests and offering links or suggestions based on those interests (think about 'People who Bought Also Bought...') the internet is inherently biased in its specific presentation of your online mediated reality. So it is always pleasant...unless of course, you are doing research on online gun sales and right-wing militia propaganda online. Well, then you might end up with some odd sidebar ads for a while...I noticed that on my gmail account the ads in the sidebar actually correspond to the content of my emails. Really, if I write a long email about repairing the heater - well, then the ads in the sidebar may be re: heaters...of course it is all meaningless to the internet, right? I mean, the word 'heater' is just a recognizable code that is matched to an ad. How sophisticated. We have hardly even noticed the new and insidious ways that we are being ripped off.”
| A visitor from Asheville, North Carolina viewed "www.mynameisfaith.net: ... and the experiment continues!" 16 hours 13 mins ago |
I am so damn sick of trying to meet people and help people. It feels like my whole damn life has spent trying to meet people...waiting for some connection with them that feels remotely like home. I may be verbose, but the world is full of verbosity - and I try to speak in a way that is mindful...
All I have wanted in my life is to feel like I could be myself and be accepted and, at the very least, appreciated just because we all ought to be appreciated.
I don't watch tv, I hardly listen to the news. I just sort of think about things as I am driving my gas powered vehicle to my well-stocked marketplace...
I am not an alarmist, but it is alarming to me.
I was right!
Really, it's baffling. Why is it so hard for a nice person - albeit a bit uptight and wordy, clumsy at facebook rules - why should it be so hard to stay in a loop for more than a second?
I guess it's the curse of the socially isolated - attempts at interaction are so significant in the mind of the isolated meetings are skewed toward some strange awkward that is apparently quite off-putting to people. And so the efforts to interact with people in a genuine way actually reinforce 1) the impression that the world misunderstands you, 2) the tendency to isolate.
I guess it's the curse of the socially isolated - attempts at interaction are so significant in the mind of the isolated meetings are skewed toward some strange awkward that is apparently quite off-putting to people. And so the efforts to interact with people in a genuine way actually reinforce 1) the impression that the world misunderstands you, 2) the tendency to isolate.
Gosh - it seems like people have gotten awfully edgy around here. That's not a good sign. Not at all.
------Original Message------
From: Me
To: Glenn
ReplyTo: Me
Subject: Re: Interesting Idea?
Sent: Jul 29, 2010 4:12 PM
Hello Auto-Glenn Beck
I appreciate your auto-acknowledgment and do hope that you are able to read my original letter, lengthy though it is.
I am serious. It is important. Plus, I really do want to know if we're related!
From: Me
To: Glenn
ReplyTo: Me
Subject: Re: Interesting Idea?
Sent: Jul 29, 2010 4:12 PM
Hello Auto-Glenn Beck
I appreciate your auto-acknowledgment and do hope that you are able to read my original letter, lengthy though it is.
I am serious. It is important. Plus, I really do want to know if we're related!
1) We are all worthy of acknowledgment,
2) clouds can be the same twice,
3) it is damn near impossible to get anyone to take you seriously in American media - even if you have ample evidence that you are, indeed, quite serious.
2) clouds can be the same twice,
3) it is damn near impossible to get anyone to take you seriously in American media - even if you have ample evidence that you are, indeed, quite serious.
I am a nice person who has been quite polite in my introductions and requests for feedback or commentary. I have received, from a number of different sectors, almost no acknowledgment for my efforts to be as amazing as I possibly can.
(Is it possible that I just suck terribly and nobody will tell me?) (Am I just too weird?) (That is definitely possible:)
Nonetheless, the more amazing I am, the more determined - it seems - people are to ignore me.
It just strikes me as odd. I really am pretty darn remarkable, even objectively. I have had my email online for a year - has anyone emailed me? Noooooo! I have had my phone number prominently listed, even inviting people to call...has anyone called me? Noooooo!
Fortunately, it is largely an experiment in dis-connection and media illusion and so my feelings aren't terribly hurt by my galvanized hypothesis: that the internet, as a tool for productive and meaningful social engagement, is just as difficult to navigate as the 3-D world and that the same barriers to access exist, perhaps even more so.
(Is it possible that I just suck terribly and nobody will tell me?) (Am I just too weird?) (That is definitely possible:)
Nonetheless, the more amazing I am, the more determined - it seems - people are to ignore me.
It just strikes me as odd. I really am pretty darn remarkable, even objectively. I have had my email online for a year - has anyone emailed me? Noooooo! I have had my phone number prominently listed, even inviting people to call...has anyone called me? Noooooo!
Fortunately, it is largely an experiment in dis-connection and media illusion and so my feelings aren't terribly hurt by my galvanized hypothesis: that the internet, as a tool for productive and meaningful social engagement, is just as difficult to navigate as the 3-D world and that the same barriers to access exist, perhaps even more so.
AND THEN I TRIED TO PROVE GOD…
I have asked my folks to watch the kids a lot lately...because I am a little distracted by the culmination of this weblog project...and the dog pile of unexpected ideas and realizations that have come from this endeavor and all it's tangential projects...and I know it is seen as shirking to have them spend the afternoons @ my folks...but, it's not. It is good for them and good for me.
I am a pragmatist, remember?
See, the bottom line is this...
I am proof that you can drop out of high school and still get into graduate school...eventually:)
I am proof that - even for white girls, even for smart girls, even for nice girls, even for shy girls gone brave, even for strong girls, persistent girls, even girls who are said to be beautiful but who cares because beauty is worthless...clearly.
I am proof that the world is harder to reach than we thought. Which is sort of concerning because what if someone had something important to say?
What if there are thousands and thousands and thousands of people who are asking, pleading, really - for help...and nobody hears them?
I am a pragmatist, remember?
See, the bottom line is this...
I am proof that you can drop out of high school and still get into graduate school...eventually:)
I am proof that - even for white girls, even for smart girls, even for nice girls, even for shy girls gone brave, even for strong girls, persistent girls, even girls who are said to be beautiful but who cares because beauty is worthless...clearly.
I am proof that the world is harder to reach than we thought. Which is sort of concerning because what if someone had something important to say?
What if there are thousands and thousands and thousands of people who are asking, pleading, really - for help...and nobody hears them?
THIS CRACKS ME UP…now.
“I need to buy some staples and get my sewing machine repaired.
Seriously – f*ck it. Ya'll need to walk all that sh*t that you talk. You want a beautiful damn mind. Here. You want a damn girl interrupted. Here.
You want something to talk about. Here.
I am serious. I want 20,000 dollars from hollywood. I am not going to harm myself or anyone else. I have CHILDREN, remember. Which is what is SO hugely f*cked about all of this.
Ya'll have skewed things so terribly that the world, and MY. OWN. TOWN. and MY.FAMILY…
Well, they don't know what to make of me. They never have and they always said they did, but I didn't think that they did and now I know it's true.
Seriously – f*ck it. Ya'll need to walk all that sh*t that you talk. You want a beautiful damn mind. Here. You want a damn girl interrupted. Here.
You want something to talk about. Here.
I am serious. I want 20,000 dollars from hollywood. I am not going to harm myself or anyone else. I have CHILDREN, remember. Which is what is SO hugely f*cked about all of this.
Ya'll have skewed things so terribly that the world, and MY. OWN. TOWN. and MY.FAMILY…
Well, they don't know what to make of me. They never have and they always said they did, but I didn't think that they did and now I know it's true.
I am so sorry - but everyone in the world saw that kitten being tickled...seriously. I am way f*ckin' cuter than that cat. Really, and I actually mean something.”
What do I mean?
It is as if everyone has major fatigue for people and ideas.
There are just too damn many of both. The sad thing is that often - for the most part - ideas that are, well...not so great, really...are the ones pushed and sold.
There are just too damn many of both. The sad thing is that often - for the most part - ideas that are, well...not so great, really...are the ones pushed and sold.
It's okay to feel hopeful. The more hope the better. There are A LOT of questions that need answering. Please don't push any buttons...please...it is about ALL OF US...we just saved the world. Holy sh*t! We just saved the world. BE HOPEFUL. The fixers will fix things. The fixers will fix things. All we have to do is rest for a minute while they wrap their brains around the sound of silence. It will take a while. Let folks know...everything is okay...the fixers know how to fix things...they already did...I am, in my way - a fixer. Using available resources to make whatever good I can come about in the world. It's pretty simple, huh? I think things will be okay.
(Things weren’t okay.)
“Just hold onto your hats there, buddies.
I can explain everything. And I do.
And it is beautiful and hopeful and I am terrified that
I will be killed for "killing God" –
I didn't kill anything...
I just figured out how to feel actual life again.
It's pretty great..
.you don't want
anything.
Which is probably why this God thing is going to be a
HUGE INCONVENIENCE
FOR CORPORATIONS...”
(I was trying to save the world. It was all very naïve.)
(THE WORST SEPTEMBER OF MY LIFE)
“I might be able to call them back. It has something, I think, to do with electricity and our bones and cerebral spinal fluid. I think. But, what do I know - I am just a high school dropout who hid underground in the back of her mind for about 22-25 years...because nobody knew what to do with a bright spark in my Old Mammalian Brain...and so they sort of ignored it, and that didn't work out so well...seeing as how I am sitting in my house totally flipped out because my family is acting like a clan of callous robots and I am, literally, quite wounded. I need help. I have asked and begged a number of people. Nobody responded except a refugee from Senegal.”
It turned out that the refugee was just a scam artist.
Even if it's some big weird ALIEN FORCE? And we're a terrarium...who cares...we need to know how this world works...really...we are totally ruining it like a spoiled brat
ruins the garden party. We are also ruining ourselves...and there are PLENTY of studies that prove how corporations prey on vulnerable populations. It's not just a trick of the mind. It's manipulation of hormonal response cycles in order to achieve the desired result...want...buy...small thrill...sex and violence make it better though...that is what we are taught by media.
They are exploiting our physiology in a way that is absolutely criminal. It could, in less time than we 'd like to imagine...well, it could change our species...slowly atrophying the connected components and emphasizing the elements that have been tampered with by the media abuse of our children. Southern Poverty Law Center - by all means, shouldn't someone sue the pants off these guys for sexually abusing our children with the use of lascivious and targeted stimuli. And the emotional abuse they sustain due to ultraviolence...well, sorry guys...it f*cks us up pretty bad...
They are exploiting our physiology in a way that is absolutely criminal. It could, in less time than we 'd like to imagine...well, it could change our species...slowly atrophying the connected components and emphasizing the elements that have been tampered with by the media abuse of our children. Southern Poverty Law Center - by all means, shouldn't someone sue the pants off these guys for sexually abusing our children with the use of lascivious and targeted stimuli. And the emotional abuse they sustain due to ultraviolence...well, sorry guys...it f*cks us up pretty bad...
That's why nobody is helping me. They don't care. They "care" - but they don't care in a way that moves them to actually negotiate their own fear on behalf of another person...even if that person has been proven herself to be real.
I am real. Aren't I?
“I am going to break this story wide open and even if it is a multi-level hallucination brought on by grief and isolation and wistful imagination...well, isn't it sad that someone can be so broken that she sees faces in the sky and writing that says in some unknown oldness, 'life' and 'love' and I am so scared that I am not crazy and that the world actually might not care about ANYTHING.
Not only can species become extinct...traits can become extinct as well...including the trait that connects us to our home and to eachother in a way that is peaceful and kind and mindful and responsive and responsible...in the bigger picture...I am not always stellar at the responsibility part...I am pretty lousy at it sometimes...it just depends on the responsibility I suppose.
I really feel like people need to consider me. Not examine me. Not be mean to me. Not disappear me or drive me to disappearance with your callous ways...but, consider me...” (as something other than a loser is what I meant…)
I really feel like people need to consider me. Not examine me. Not be mean to me. Not disappear me or drive me to disappearance with your callous ways...but, consider me...” (as something other than a loser is what I meant…)
“I really think I might be onto something. Please don't hurt me. I need help. People are getting damaged...in ways that could change our species...more quickly than we like to even consider...please remember the peace and warmth of quiet reverence pointed East, the reassurance that THERE IS SOMETHING BIGGER...and it's EVERYTHING and it's in us...and we used to have instincts related to our purpose...but, our instincts were co-opted for profit. It's not right.
We have to stop. For the children of our children...we may see the results that soon...remember thalidomide? How can we still be EXPERIMENTING?
It's a complete and utter disaster folks. We know the outcomes, we have the evidence. Can we please adjust our thinking a little and start cleaning up our mess.
I don't want us to die in that way...please.”
We have to stop. For the children of our children...we may see the results that soon...remember thalidomide? How can we still be EXPERIMENTING?
It's a complete and utter disaster folks. We know the outcomes, we have the evidence. Can we please adjust our thinking a little and start cleaning up our mess.
I don't want us to die in that way...please.”
Humans are animals and we have the same guiding forces that a lot of other mammals have. The thing we don't have is sharp teeth. Sharp tongues, yes. Sharp teeth, no.
Thus, we had to fight more to stay alive. We were probably a fragile species for a while...and then we figured out how to use our thumbs. Wait! Don't cut them off! See, that's how all this kooky stuff we do came about...people trying to explain the inexplicable in the best way they could, which often involved a lot of fighting and f*cking and preaching...that's what men do...and so people got scared and intimidated and just did whatever they had to do to keep from getting killed...or simply to keep from being scared. People used to not like to get scared. Our fear response is supposed to indicate danger, not pleasure.
Thus, we had to fight more to stay alive. We were probably a fragile species for a while...and then we figured out how to use our thumbs. Wait! Don't cut them off! See, that's how all this kooky stuff we do came about...people trying to explain the inexplicable in the best way they could, which often involved a lot of fighting and f*cking and preaching...that's what men do...and so people got scared and intimidated and just did whatever they had to do to keep from getting killed...or simply to keep from being scared. People used to not like to get scared. Our fear response is supposed to indicate danger, not pleasure.
I think my subconscious has been working on this for a loooooong time.
this is too sad...scary...I don't want anything to burn...that's why I have to keep going until it makes sense to me...
Wait a second...
We got smarter while they got...um, hurt?
What can we do?
I can call clouds. I think...maybe?
Nobody is explaining anything!
Don't be scared. If we stick together we can prove a HUGELY important point...there are a lot of kids who need help...
Please: START TELLING THE TRUTH...
What can you do? What do you love? What do you hope for?
The people you were mean to know how to do it...but, we're scared...because, um - you were mean to us? However, if we all got together...well, it'd prove a HUGE point about the missing piece of so many puzzles.
It's us. All of us.
Wow. What a big surprise that'd be. A convergence of gentle genius with untapped powers...how much fun would that be?
It would certainly get their attention, and I would certainly feel slightly less scared. I know you know. Come now.
I don't know what I'll say if anyone actually comes. Maybe, "I wonder how many there are?"
or, gee..."What should we do now?"
Wait a second...
We got smarter while they got...um, hurt?
What can we do?
I can call clouds. I think...maybe?
Nobody is explaining anything!
Don't be scared. If we stick together we can prove a HUGELY important point...there are a lot of kids who need help...
Please: START TELLING THE TRUTH...
What can you do? What do you love? What do you hope for?
The people you were mean to know how to do it...but, we're scared...because, um - you were mean to us? However, if we all got together...well, it'd prove a HUGE point about the missing piece of so many puzzles.
It's us. All of us.
Wow. What a big surprise that'd be. A convergence of gentle genius with untapped powers...how much fun would that be?
It would certainly get their attention, and I would certainly feel slightly less scared. I know you know. Come now.
I don't know what I'll say if anyone actually comes. Maybe, "I wonder how many there are?"
or, gee..."What should we do now?"
(I WANTED TO BE A SUPERHERO.)
“I am sorry that I've confused people. I just shifted paradigms, that's all. I shifted into Big Time...realizing that we are - the people who have existed for the past five hundred years - well, we are pretty fleeting in the broader, longer scheme of things. We know that. However, we don't know that...not in a way that we allow to disrupt our lifestyles or illusions...
I know that some of the meaner people in the world, those who have strange illusions of the sanctity of their small little window to the world...well, they would despise me. Not because I am evil...but, because I am good. And I am proof...”
I know that some of the meaner people in the world, those who have strange illusions of the sanctity of their small little window to the world...well, they would despise me. Not because I am evil...but, because I am good. And I am proof...”
I REALLYREALLYREALLY WANTED
TO SAVE THE WORLD.
NO WONDER PEOPLE THOUGHT I WAS CRAZY.
Why don’t more people want to save the world?
“So sad that instead of being celebrated for my strength in surviving and nurturing my own spirit and being seen as creative and with a sense that is only gained from being completely up sh*t creek without an oar of any sort...well, my kids get to see how "selfish" I am being and how "I don't care."
Don't ya'll see how incredibly intolerant and disrespectful that is? I am a good person. I have good ideas. I want to help people. And you all think I'm crazy...
I see how people think that just shutting up and playing along is a good option...I see, also, why it might be nice to have to disappear. However, you all have a choice in me...see me as I am: an opportunity for sense...
Or just tear me apart because you're bored as sh*t and mean as hell or scared sh*tless about what exactly I might understand and how. It's pretty simple. I can explain it. But, right now I am fairly bummed out because so many people are being jerks.
I thought the middle ages were over, folks? Really? Oh. Sorry to have bothered you.”
Don't ya'll see how incredibly intolerant and disrespectful that is? I am a good person. I have good ideas. I want to help people. And you all think I'm crazy...
I see how people think that just shutting up and playing along is a good option...I see, also, why it might be nice to have to disappear. However, you all have a choice in me...see me as I am: an opportunity for sense...
Or just tear me apart because you're bored as sh*t and mean as hell or scared sh*tless about what exactly I might understand and how. It's pretty simple. I can explain it. But, right now I am fairly bummed out because so many people are being jerks.
I thought the middle ages were over, folks? Really? Oh. Sorry to have bothered you.”
Amazing, all this happened just cause I told the truth and tried to stand up for myself...I wanted my questions answered...still, nobody has explained anything...least of all why you all are so venomous. See?
I have no interest in subverting anything, unless - of course - it is a systemized and oppressive regime that perpetuates evil and misunderstanding...in the clear criteria of human life or habitat lost or diminished...
In that case, well...um, yeah...but, no - I am not trying to overthrow anything...don't even try to pin that on me. I'm not an idiot. Even in my musing that perhaps I might be somewhat idiotic...well, it is good to admit to the gaps in our understanding.
It is how we learn.
By trying our best and admitting when we might be wrong.
In that case, well...um, yeah...but, no - I am not trying to overthrow anything...don't even try to pin that on me. I'm not an idiot. Even in my musing that perhaps I might be somewhat idiotic...well, it is good to admit to the gaps in our understanding.
It is how we learn.
By trying our best and admitting when we might be wrong.
“In the end, it doesn't have much to do with 'smart' - it just has to do with sense and goodness and making the most of our little stories. It has to do with light and shadow and what we choose to see and what we choose to invest our belief in.
I am still uninformed about a lot of details, but I know that some of us are like lightning rods and some of us breathe more deeply than others and that, in some of us, is written an old code that drives us to distraction in this brief new world.
I know we have souls and that, sometimes, when we are hurt...well, they rise up fighting and gasping for air...but, we have minds as well and our minds are as important as our hearts. I heard someone speak today about the importance of saving our minds and not being content with just a restoration of spirit.
I am still uninformed about a lot of details, but I know that some of us are like lightning rods and some of us breathe more deeply than others and that, in some of us, is written an old code that drives us to distraction in this brief new world.
I know we have souls and that, sometimes, when we are hurt...well, they rise up fighting and gasping for air...but, we have minds as well and our minds are as important as our hearts. I heard someone speak today about the importance of saving our minds and not being content with just a restoration of spirit.
We can believe in the power of belief all we want, but unless we repair our minds and reclaim our bodies as vessels for everything old and good...well, what's the point?
Nobody said it is easy.”
I just wish someone would explain it. Or at least tell me there is nothing there and back it up with an explanation of how I can photograph the semblance of something there if there is nothing there?
It's like everyone who has ever read this blog assumes that I am, like, joking...or that someone else will deal with me...?
It's like everyone who has ever read this blog assumes that I am, like, joking...or that someone else will deal with me...?
Somebody needs to address this issue. Now.
(Watch. Nothing will happen. This is about the 20th time I have basically demanded that someone do something or tell someone or just write me and at least tell me I am mistaken and explain to me why...not one single person has. Not one. Isn't that remarkable? Sociologically speaking, it's truly amazing...but, not so much...people are a little confused about social responsibility. What is also amazing is that if I am correct in my assessment of the situation, some fool will try to shut down this blog...which, given all the hateful messaging out there, would be a blatant violation of my civil rights, so don't even try it.)
I actually believed that I was doing important work. Seems a bit sad and silly now. The line between inspiration and delusion can get pretty thin, can’t it?
Somebody told me a while back that someone had told them that this blog is "horrifying" - yes, it is horrifying...that such hope kept my eyes on the sky and a remarkable focus was found...and nobody even believes anything they say they believe or actually hopes for anything they are supposed to hope for...and so quickly they dismiss me...a nobody who has been through her own sort of hell with this...proof of stories I never believed could be possible...except people only see clouds, because that is what the sky is to us now...a useless dead field, a space for planes and sunsets on beaches before we go get drunk...
Wind blows leaves and they fall, the sun rises and steam swirls off of rooftops. Snowflakes bind together, water held crystalline in frigid air. Tides are pulled and pushed by the moon, a fact that, to me seems miraculous.
Within this setting of ebb and flow, steam and snow, we exist. A species of mammals among other mammals and a vast myriad of small colonial beings that we hardly have time to notice within the context of our busy lives. The bees that pollinate the flowers we so admire are swatted away from our picnics and the ants that live beneath our garden rocks are ignored until we dig them up, putting in pansies genetically modified to withstand wilting death.
How do we fit into this natural order, as human beings? We are born with instincts, to nurse from our mothers, to crawl, then stand, then walk. Our brains are constructed to govern our bodies, and our feelings have corresponding chemicals (hormones) that we learn to interpret within the context of our cultured beliefs. As we rise to adulthood and forget our childhood games in fields, our wonder over small perfect birds' nest and the way that autumn wind burns our lungs as we run careening down hills, the way that fallen leaves smell after cold rain...well, we lose something.
Not only do we lose our appreciation of such things as leaf piles as empires and grass blades as whistles, we seem to lose our ability to focus more than fleetingly on the natural world around us. Not all of us, for sure. The world is full of people who hold the proper posture of a cardinal in high regard and some devote their entire lives to the study of insects and all their precisely order ways. Most of us, however, driven inside by economic and educational necessity, begin to see the natural world as just a blurred backdrop to our civilized human existence...something to be admired when the weather is nice, grumbled about when it is not.
How do we lose our specied connection to the world around us?
Within this setting of ebb and flow, steam and snow, we exist. A species of mammals among other mammals and a vast myriad of small colonial beings that we hardly have time to notice within the context of our busy lives. The bees that pollinate the flowers we so admire are swatted away from our picnics and the ants that live beneath our garden rocks are ignored until we dig them up, putting in pansies genetically modified to withstand wilting death.
How do we fit into this natural order, as human beings? We are born with instincts, to nurse from our mothers, to crawl, then stand, then walk. Our brains are constructed to govern our bodies, and our feelings have corresponding chemicals (hormones) that we learn to interpret within the context of our cultured beliefs. As we rise to adulthood and forget our childhood games in fields, our wonder over small perfect birds' nest and the way that autumn wind burns our lungs as we run careening down hills, the way that fallen leaves smell after cold rain...well, we lose something.
Not only do we lose our appreciation of such things as leaf piles as empires and grass blades as whistles, we seem to lose our ability to focus more than fleetingly on the natural world around us. Not all of us, for sure. The world is full of people who hold the proper posture of a cardinal in high regard and some devote their entire lives to the study of insects and all their precisely order ways. Most of us, however, driven inside by economic and educational necessity, begin to see the natural world as just a blurred backdrop to our civilized human existence...something to be admired when the weather is nice, grumbled about when it is not.
How do we lose our specied connection to the world around us?
…and how do we regain it?
We are, there is no question about it, electrical beings.
To what extent we are conscious of our own electrical fields depends on a vast number of factors, the foremost of which is individual physiology. What if some of us are predisposed to be particularly sensitive to the Earth's electromagnetic fields? What if some of us get caught in an electrical current that is bigger than our own?
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
Then I thought about the old religions and all the belief systems that were destroyed and triangles and sacrums and how my own lower back had burnt so badly that I had, one night, knelt in child's pose and pressed the tip of a small-stitch crochet hook into the bones just to try to free up some of what felt bundled there. I thought about chakras and pyramids and souls and ghosts and the way that electricity makes our heart beat.
I thought about our genetic codes and how old we all are, carrying information from people that lived thousands of years ago. I thought about ant colonies and how certain ants have certain jobs and wondered if some of us are 'written' to be more sensitive to the big connection than others.
Just ideas, really. However, not so far-fetched. Certainly worth thinking about.
Mostly I thought about how peaceful and clear I felt when I believed in something bigger than myself, something that is good.
“I wish that people would just let it all go...the ways that it all came crashing down...chalk it up to another misunderstanding in a world chock f*in full of misunderstandings...fueled by fear on one hand, righteousness on the other...both burning equally bright...get on with life in ways that are better than they were before...”
I think I am looking forward to writing stories that I can tell without having to watch people turn their backs on me as I am speaking, begging them to listen. Please, listen.
“Our consciousness is responsive and microevolutionary, meaning that our brains and bodies become 'wired' to experience the world in a particular way within the context of our lives. We are able to enhance or diminish qualities of our sensory interpretation through the content of our exposure to particular stimuli. The notion of de-sensitization is not uncommon. However, we are able to heighten our sensitivity as well. As we manipulate our awareness of our surrounding environments, our brains literally change as neural pathways develop or grow dusty.”
“I felt so awake and alive when I was documenting all those triangular shadows in the sky, thinking about old Pink Floyd album covers and Buckminster Fuller and pyramids:) I know there are ways to wake people up, re-connect them with one another and with the bigger field...but, those ways are written out of our holy books and contemplation of those ways is now, conveniently, deemed to be 'mentally ill' - there are so many ways that people are kept down...and I really want to deconstruct them all. Like I said, I guess I got a little ambitious. I'm just sick of it...all this robotic walking and talking around in circles, buying ourselves into our own cold graves.
I think there have been various artists and musicians who figured out how to connect, but within the context of modern culture they were limited. There are a lot of songs that parallel my weird turn of mind and spirit this past summer.
I think there have been various artists and musicians who figured out how to connect, but within the context of modern culture they were limited. There are a lot of songs that parallel my weird turn of mind and spirit this past summer.
I think that the activity of the bigger field is cyclical, like so many things...comes around and goes around, waxes and wanes, perhaps responds to disruptions in our fields on the ground...all the death and dying that sends our little lightning bolts up into the air when our hearts stop beating.”
“It really makes perfect sense, though. That 'God' would be electric - how many clouds and lightning bolts are in the good old Bible? It's all so obvious to me that all these different religions arose as people observed the same phenomena and, due to geographic isolation, made up different stories to explain it. The thing that gets me though is that people totally neglect our own electrical components. I mean, we are totally electric! Our hearts beat because of electricity and we can see, with modern technology, the electrical activity in our brains. We 'hear' sounds because of electrical impulses sent from the tiny seas in our ears.
I think that all those ancient religions and rituals were about connecting with the bigger field in ways that people could actually see and feel the result of. Of course, higher powers were subverted for the purpose of power and profit and all our ways of believing have been stripped of the practices that actually connect us. It makes me sad - to think that these past few centuries have been so godless and that people have lost access to what is bigger than we are, that it's been taken from us.”
