Penning vs. Keying

http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/next/body/taking-notes-by-hand-could-improve-memory-wt/

I am realizing how little I remember if I type vs. if I write with pen and paper.  I think chronos time stops in the brain and kairos time takes over and that is the time that truly matters.

PERFECTION Post-post

I wrote something about being perfect two years ago...omg...two mucking years ago....and I just want to add to that because just two weeks ago or so, I was thinking, "Wouldn't it be nice to be perfect?  Because then I wouldn't let anyone down."

My motive for wanting to be perfect is to make life unrelentingly fulfilling because I am never mucking up, like my theme song of life, sung by Neil Young . . .
Why Do I...?

May 26, 2015

After reading omg-I have to call to make an appointment!-...

Anyway, after reading some of the clinician's' "biographies" which consisted of three tabs:
Education
Clinical Interests
Personal Interests (i.e. "hobbies")

I thought to myself as I was scurrying back and forth from one end of the garage to the other, the pass through for getting to and fro the backyard and the front yard, I thought, "I know what I would put in my 'personal interests'-- I would put, 'Thinking about my personal interests' (i.e. I would love to say, 'gardening' but I don't have time to put everything I need to do aside for the day to spend the morning attending to all that needs to be done in the yard.  I would love to say, 'staying in shape' or 'exercising' or 'being physically active in a sports-minded kind of way' or 'doing anything that the periodical Outside Magazine would heartily approve of' but I don't have time to even work my abs considering the learning curve time I would have to devote to getting the proper form, techniques, etc. ingrained.   I don't have time to go for a power walk through the paths of Broadmoor Audubon conservation.  I don't have time to get out my exercise gear, change into it, drive to the gym, sweat it up, come home, get out of my stinky workout wear, take a shower, figure out what to wear for the rest of the day, AND then do all that I have to do that particular day.  SO, yes, my 'personal interests' would be 'contemplating the luxury of actually DOING my personal interests' and if that sounds a tad raunchy, it has been kept as such because my inner editor liked the idea of the sexual ...nuance of 'doing my personal interests' because the stars know, sex requires Time too!


I have to go back to my personal responsibilities.  Because it is in my personal interests to fulfill my obligations and stay on top of deadlines and appointments and keep everything in queue, ready for pick up for any and all of my children's activities, I need to cease my writing, a personal interest of the top order, and do what needs to be done.

YMCA camp forms
Kiki's Birthday party invites and Longfellow confirmation
Find and make an appointment with a BH clinician at the Wellesley offices.  Email the person and inform this person that Pedro Politzer, your "supplier" for these past 12 years or so (?) has the chutzpah to retire and thus leave me to my own devices which means I am already mucking up because I should have made an appointment 2 months ago when I had an appointment with Pedro and he informed me of his impending abandonment on June 3.

I suck.

That is something my son likes to say after he has realized he made yet another not-so-good choice/decision.

SO, I'm sure I'm on a sidewalk with an interesting design of cracks and fissures that although its cement is keeping me safely on the path (and if that is a metaphor, let me just say, for me to be on the path is a coup--points for me for just being on the sidewalk, man!) however, the cracks are wide and I'm sure I saw a few things flutter through the gaping ones ...

I know I am not the only mother who is struggling, drowning in these personal interests.

Oh, didn't I also want to read my Poets & Writers magazine and submit poems to upcoming contests?  Didn't I want to type up my poems so they would be ready for sending?

Ah, yes.  It's time to go.

Signing off--
Crazed Mother of only two but one child equals at least three if you take into account the other two embryos that had taken up residence in my womb after the third IUI and an upped dose of fertility medication...if you take into account that in the beginning, there were three and the very next week, there was only one, the one that entered the land of oxygen intake, carbon dioxide outtake, he must be the embodiment of the other two embryos that were not meant to be of this outer-womb galaxy.  So, considering that, he must be at least three children total.  He is definitely the work of three pieces -- not easy ones either.  Love him though!  : }

Perfection

I want to be perfect.  I yearn for it, really.  Not a paperclip out of place, an extra ounce of fat, a misplaced document, a calendar item forgotten.

Blameless.  I want to be blameless.  Clear of all doubt because I have no faults.  

Wouldn't it be great to never make a mistake or mishap?  Wouldn't my weary spirit find peace knowing that even under all that surface perfection, I am also the most loving, kind, patient, and peaceful creature that I could possibly be?

And why?  Because, in my desire to be reliable and respected and loving is a form of avoidance.  I am so well acquainted with my disappointing self that I am worn out by its mere shadow.  She is a monster and doesn't deserve to see the light of day.  She is only reliable in her ability to fuck up.  And then, after the fuck up, she is unforgivable and must suffer a measured amount of the essence of her own rot.  She must be punished long enough that she never recovers.  So that she will spend the rest of her days wondering and speculating on ways to curry favor in hopes to at least engage in her life, all the while remembering what a brutal ogre, a pathetic earthling she is

Seasonal shifts; closing in on the bedtime routine; sleep

Around July 7th, there's a shift in the sky.  The angle of sunlight upon the trees.  The function equation wavers an adjustment. A sin cosin formulaic color blend of the shadow effect.  Colors deepen.  The flora play catch with the large blindingly yellow white orb in the sky and by August, it is clear, the play season is coming near its end.  Soon it will be dusky lavender and then grey.  It will be time to come in for the night.  Or go in and get ready for bed.  Time to end your day and that summer's teasing glimpse of the transcendence of time.  For it will be time to closee your eyes and sleep.  To let go of the day, the richness, the excitement, or the banality of the living experienced in the day's memory and embark to the ocean of sleep.  Sleep.  That vague place where darkness either covers everything or just plain, old obliterates.  The necessary recuperation needed for the human body.  A physical need, like oxegyn and water.  Noirishment to sustain this life.  But sleep and dreaming provides a glimpse into an unknown but inevitable future.  That twilight bewitching jour when all the reassurance in a sage's pouch of tricks and spells cannot promise a dusting of promise that you will wake up to live another day.  The separation anxiety is so palpable when we are juveniles.  That span of time between a newborn to a hormonal landscape of adulthood.  The horizen speaks of sleep. But where do we go when we sleep?  And what is the difference between a midnight disengagement and an earthly demise?  Perhaps there is yet another stage of development the soul morphs into after this earthly metamorphosis.  But so what?  Who will care to awake in a new land knly to have forgotten the one that was such a struggle and yet had such a hold?  I love this life, this place where I can collect books, acrue knowledge, listen to my children discuss the significance of how many trucks they count within one mile of driving.  I live this place where the hope of a honorable calling and its consequent dream is what means my life giving.  The call.  The dream.  The love.  The hope.  The faith that this earthling life is all worth it.  That it is significant.  And to let it all go is painful.  It is a lot to ask of my limited mind.  

Quinn's quip

“	Ms. Sylvester, I want to thank you...For teaching me a valuable life lesson: When you really believe in yourself, you don't have to bring other people down.	”
—Quinn to Sue Sylvester, Acafellas GleeWiki  http://glee.wikia.com/wiki/Quinn's_Quotations

Bully to bully ~

 

    

Lego No-go

Last post, as we can see, best-laid-plans did not pan out. This is typical for me, considering how scatter brained I am. Not much has changed since I last posted. Except S is older, bigger, and has a much more colorful and decidedly inappropriate. Other than that, I still rather despise myself, tolerate my life, despair about my lack of mature, maternal, level-headed easy-going manner. Again, I feel betrayed. No one told
Me
How DIFFICULT being a parent is. I wish someone had adequately in on the suffering and
Daily trevails of parenthood.