Vacationing - can't remember the name of this place

I've been taking a short vacation from Blogger and Bacefook. Just went back and read what I missed, no point in commenting now. When you're gone for awhile, you fear you might have missed something important and I did, a few somethings.  Obviously all parties have managed.

I've mentioned before that I have PTSD.  I roil back and forth between, "is it a good thing that I lay myself out semi-naked or should I hide?".  Blogger and BF have been calling up a lot of  PTSD questions like that. (Fuck you, Blogger.)  Questions that I have been wrestling with most of my life.   Good enough, not good enough?  Too sad, too silly, too whiny? Wanted not wanted? Too flippant, too tenderhearted? Too serious, not serious enough? Too much the sky is falling or blindly (unrealistically ) optimistic?  Too vulnerable, too....well, forget that one. I'm simply too vulnerable, always have been always will be. My life has made me that way and I'm not going to grow a Godzilla skin or miraculously turn into someone who becomes a motivational speaker and makes a lot of money or someone who has turned their pain into a spirituality that we all admire  --   at this point.  It's one of the things that I've come to realize about myself the most from treading the waters of Blogger and I'm feeling pretty fucking good about my vulnerability. Infinitely vulnerable people are vital to this planet and don't you forget it, seriously.   I'm ok with a lot of bits of myself because of blogging. I realize that if I'm not, I'm going to eat myself up with comparisons, that's my hobby - comparing. You name it, I compare myself to what ever it is that you do/think/are.  But my motto of late is - who gives a fuck.  Although to hone this I do occasionally need to take a break.  It's like an alcoholic who's stopped drinking but keeps going into bars. Someday it won't matter at all but until then you'd better make sure you know what you're doing before you go in.   One day at a time.
                                                                             

                                               I love this fractured face.  Artist unknown.


Oddly, Blogger has been making me see that I am an optimist, of sorts, if you can believe that.   If you get knocked down again and again (thank you Blogger and/or life) and you keep getting up, you are an optimist, (so that would be me!) either that or crazy.  Although I've been hung over the side by my ankles in this life, more times than I allow myself to remember, I've never been dropped and I don't believe I ever will be.  I'm a lover, I love every one, in a way.     In the past I would have apologized for speaking so well of myself... again, thank you Blogger because I especially like this part, you've made me stronger.    I don't very often have an encounter where I am not able to put myself in others shoes, at least for a moment.  You automatically cultivate this when it is something you want so much.  I don't feel that comes my way too often, and that makes me sad, but it doesn't make me loose my grip on this perspective - which is a bloody, fucking, fucking miracle.  My days, every one of them, take me up and down and then up and down again through a circus ride of tears and laughs. I'm not exaggerating when I say I don't think I've had a day in the last 50 years where I have not at least teared up. That's because of the tenderhearted thing, or maybe it's just PTSD. The least little thing of beauty or, God forbid sadness, can make this rise up. I cry at kindness and especially innocence. Some days I can't look at children except for a moment because they are so divine. We walk in the presence of God when we pass them. I don't want to look at them too long either for fear they will see me on the way to tears and think - what the fuck?!  I'll bet you don't do that.  fuck! See, I did it again, the compare shit.    Igettobeme - Idon'thavetobeyou - Igettobeme - Idon'thavetobeyou.  Ahhh, better.

So anyway, Blogger has been beating my ass a bit lately, although as you can see, when it takes it also gives, good things. Or maybe I'm just getting older and more able to turn shitty stuff into not so shitty stuff.  Stay tuned for further results.

On an up note - my whole sinus thing is still fucked!!  Two CT scans (#3 on it's way) too many bouts of meds., an infected tooth that has to be pulled (thank god it's in the very back - but I shall now loose my gold crown, I liked my gold crown. And I am going to have to have an operation on my face/nose? where ever they go to fix your sinus (it's just on one side).  The very worst of all is that my darling girl, Marly is going to have to go back to the vet as she is still not well from a week of bad poops and no appetite.  Lethargic is not a good sign, I am worried.  Pocket book has gone into shock, we have had to have a serious talk and a little crying that resulted in a "get a grip!" finale.  I get sweaty palms whenever I think about it so I don't expect the grip to last too long.

I have, though, through all of this, perfected my belief/theory/vision of God.  Sit down.  God is.....in and out ~~~ Breath ~~~ we are never without it.  It accompanies us in and ushers us out. We all do it, it makes us all the same in that way.  No human being can live without it.  Nothing can live without it. Without it there would be nothing. Our Sacred Breath is Air. As we breathe in Air, my breath mingles with your breath. In essence it becomes one breath. I take you in and whether you want to or not, you take me in.  That in and out is the name of God (can you hear it?) - don't take it in vain - take it with purpose, with reverence, with the understanding that as that Air is commingled, we are ONE.

 And you see... IT"S not male or female. It just is.  I've always known this, I just wound it up into a fairly cohesive thought the other day, I like it.  Anyway, that's what I believe and I'm stickin' to it!

To while away this time, other than all the above profundities, I've been reading:

Ghosty Men      - It's about the Collyer brothers, New York's greatest hoarders.  (Franz Lidz)

Making Monte Carlo     - It's about how Monte Carlo was made...duh.  (Mark Braude)

Cake - a Slice of History    -   Cake, from 878 A.D. to tonight's cake, if you are so lucky as to have 
some.   (Alysa Levene)

The Artist of Disappearance   - Lovely short stories about India.   (Anita Desai)

Hard times    - You could probably see that one coming.   (The illustrious Mr. Charles Dickens)
AND....Putin's Master Plan   - To destroy Europe, divide NATO,  and restore Russian power and global influence (read that as dominance!)   (Douglas Schoen)

Scarrrrry, but a must read for anyone who wants to know what this election is really about. Sorry folks, it's not your taxes or childcare or women's rights (please forgive me) it's about whether the world, as we know it to be now, will continue to exist.  This thing lurking behind the curtain is not a little fat wizard, it is a demon and we never pay enough attention to demons until they strike.   
Just so you know, he is pretty much on his way to achieving his goals. "They" keep it under wraps, they don't want to alarm the children (us). Seriously, well worth the read, if you can stand to be scared.

I like to mix it up a bit. Not just in reading, but in life.

I was going to tell you about my last hike walk of the season.  It has pictures! But this is getting, like usual, too long so I'll save it for next time.  There will be a next time.