Onward & Onward, Full of Grace

First, the scale: Back down to my goal weight. I lost those pesky 7 pounds during the night.

Actually, it’s really sort of fun — having this new insane scale to step on first thing in the morning: what is it going to tell me? I don’t interfere with its read-out in any way; I can’t, actually. It’s a really cheap scale. It does what it does and that’s it, and all I can do is either step on it or not. So that element of complete  surprise is just an interesting new way to start my morning.

Plus, it’s super uplifting to lose 7 pounds during the night!! (And on those nights when I’ve gained 5 or 8 pounds, well. You know, it’s just a cheap scale and it doesn’t work! So disregard it!) (It only works when I reach my goal weight, which, thank goodness, is quite frequently. I’ve already reached it several times in the past couple of days.)

Okay. I am doing reasonably okay today.  I’ve been having mental issues again over the last several days.  I’m thinking it’s just stress. But it’s maybe other stuff, too. I’m not sure. Who the fuck knows. It got so bad yesterday that I was seriously thinking it was time to go back to the convent. (Loyal readers of this lofty blog probably recall that St. Therese’s convent is where I go when I get extremely suicidal. But since I’ve moved, it’s now 50 miles from here. But when you get there, you turn in your phone and then there’s a vow of silence. And they feed you if you want to eat, which I usually don’t.  They give you a little cell, and you can be alone with St. John of the Cross and Kempis’ The Imitation of Christ. But usually, I most prefer the  Beatitudes because sometimes I think that that’s all there is to it, really. Then there is that tiny but amazing old stone chapel, where it’s just you on your knees with Jesus for however long it takes. Get your shit back together; get back in your car and drive home.)

But 50 miles is 50 miles now. And I have these cats. And I have this house. And responsibilities. I wait until it’s really, really dire, you know, before I go there. But then there’s that grey area — if I wait too long, I can become immobilized. And then it’s just dicey, all the way around. I just hate that grey area. You have no idea.

But even when I get immobilized — when my brain sort of  puts me on lock-down and I can’t easily do things that will save me, I can still text. So texting is a true blessing. It really, really is. Even when I can no longer communicate verbally, I can always, always write. Usually all I need is just help getting out of the house — getting into the air, under the sky, remembering that there’s an actual world outside of my brain.

Anyway. Yesterday was heading in a bad place all day, and so I was thinking about the convent. But I decided to just sleep in the guest room last night and see if that would break the chain of negative crap. I don’t think of my own bedroom as negative at all. I love my room, and the energy in it. But I remembered how incredible it felt, the night before I left for NY, sleeping in my guest room for the first time and what a great room it turned out to be.

It was okay last night, but I think that other time, having my birth mom sleeping in the next room probably had a lot to do with the peace I was feeling. I was thinking I should call my mom and tell her she has to come back. But I don’t like to hold people for ransom  emotionally. Because of course she would come, but she does have her own life to live. I always somehow manage to get myself back on track.

It’s so weird how you can just turn a corner and wake up and be okay. I really do think it’s stress. Primarily, both Sandra and Peitor needing my attention to various projects, when right now, I need to give 110% to the Tell My Bones rewrites. Well, anyway. The noise just starts in my head.

I know what it is I need to turn off the noise and I also know I’m not going to get it anytime soon, if ever. So maybe adopting a little puppy would be the next best thing — unconditional love & devotion! But I can’t take on a puppy, or even a full grown dog. Aside from a house full of untamed cats that would freak the fuck out, I don’t have the time for the added responsibility.

So I’m just trying to focus on the writing and have that particular type of joy be all I need for the time being.

When I was meditating this morning, I got myself into a place of pure potentiality. That true realization that there is no such thing as the future and there is no past. The past is a memory — and if your memory is gone, your past is gone. And if your memory shifts, then your past completely changes. So what is the past, really? And the future is only an idea. It can be absolutely anything or nothing at all. The only thing that’s filled with wide-open potential is the infinite expanse of right now.

It was a beautiful feeling. The beauty and the openness of right now is where all that feeling of fulfillment is for me — you can do anything, experience the joy or the thrill or the satisfaction of anything right now, because all of reality is experienced in your mind anyway.

I’m not saying that reality doesn’t eventually play out in some way; I know it does. But for me, the true fulfillment comes from the creation of the idea. The “playing out” of the idea is where the baggage is. Not that baggage is essentially unmanageable. I’m just saying that, for me, the moment the idea is created — that’s where I find the most emotional fulfillment. I can do anything I want to in my mind, especially experience pure beauty and pure love.

Which, of course, reminds me of Ghosteen again. I was listening to it in the guest room last night, in the dark. God, it is such a gorgeous album (even though it is so fucking sad). Every time I think I’ve chosen a favorite “song” (I hesitate to call them “songs” because they simply don’t feel like “songs’), I realize that I can’t actually say that I love one over or more than another. They are each just so haunting and beautiful.

I really love “Spinning Song” and “Night Raid.” But then the other songs come on and I love those, too. So who knows. All I know for sure is that the whole album is sort of uncategorical.  It defies my mind’s ability to define it.  Meaning, I can’t simply say, “Oh, that’s a great record.” Or section it out into a group of songs, or something.

I did notice that there’s a bunch of cute little Ghosteen things that we can purchase now! I say “cute” because most of them have got the little lamb picture on it — but of course, little lambs (in cemeteries) are symbolic of dead children so my brain hesitates to identify with the little lamb as “cute,” even though it is. It’s incredibly cute. But, you know, it’s also unbearably sad. So I’m not sure what to do about that.  I really want one of those tote bags — but do I tote it around until the little lamb becomes common place or meaningless? I’m not sure I can do that.

Anyway. You can see that it’s best for me to pursue wide open expanses of blankness where I’m not encouraged to think about anything.

And on that note!! I will remind you to please go on Instagram and follow @tellmybones. And to go on Facebook and follow: https://www.facebook.com/tellmybones

The web site will be launching soon. Mostly, they have to figure out my bio, which is stupidly extensive and goes off in many directions. And I think once that’s solved, the site will launch. I noticed they picked that author’s photo of me from my novel Freak Parade — where I’m wearing my Mark Jacobs aviator shades that I just love! And I’m sitting on the stoop, looking totally dyke-y. Yay. Nothing like just going out into the world.  (You’d never know that I am a girl who loves elegance. I honestly do. I used to own the most gorgeous dresses. Anyway.)

So, thanks for visiting. I apologize for being all over the map today, but it’s better than not existing. So I guess I don’t really apologize for it. I would leave you with something from Ghosteen today, but I think you’re supposed to go purchase it. So, in the meantime, I leave you with this thought-worthy piece of questions. Have a good day out there, okay? I love you guys. See ya!

“LOSING MY RELIGION”

Oh, life is bigger
It’s bigger
Than you and you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I set it up

That’s me in the corner
That’s me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don’t know if I can do it
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I haven’t said enough

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

Every whisper
Of every waking hour
I’m choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt lost and blinded fool, fool
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I set it up

Consider this
Consider this
The hint of the century
Consider this
The slip that brought me
To my knees failed
What if all these fantasies
Come flailing around
Now I’ve said too much

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

But that was just a dream
That was just a dream

That’s me in the corner
That’s me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don’t know if I can do it
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I haven’t said enough

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

But that was just a dream
Try, cry
Why try?
That was just a dream, just a dream, just a dream
Dream

c – 1991 : Bill Berry / Michael Stipe / Mike Mills / Peter Buck

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