Mindful or Just Mine

I have come to the conclusion that life alters my perception of reality and death, although tinged with confusion, has a way of clarifying things.

The death of my aunt altered my life as if part of my own self died. Each subsequent death (off hand count 8 humans, a friend’s dog, and my own cat) was like hammering copper. I’m hardened by the awareness of mortality. There really is no tomorrow. Someday never comes.

This is it… life: raw and real and right now.

I am told that I sing in my sleep. My dreams of late are laced with people, past and present, and then, more often than not, I wake up with Pearl Jam tunes in my head: Black, Even Flow, Alive, and this one… I Am Mine.

 

I’m not depressed… not manic, either. I’m just aware that life is now. Elusive dreams gave way to concrete goals with executable plans. I am focused. I am here. I am alive… living, breathing, laughing, loving, making art, cleaning house, just being grandma and all these things… savoring these moments.

Thanks for reading!

 

Feb Res 2014

Today’s blog in a nutshell:  February Resolutions (practice art, revive BeesATC blog, get wet, ID anti-social behaviors) and a BED Reality Check (weigh-in)

Last first… pulled the scales out of the closet today for a “reality check” on that binge eating disorder thing.  I don’t talk about it much anymore as it is not such an issue anymore.   The anniversary of seeking treatment quietly came and went three months ago.  Weight loss has slowed down to a snails crawl, but it was amazing to enter the New Year weighing less than I have in years even after eating all of those holiday goodies.  Breaking free of the scales was kind of scary as going by how I feel and how my clothes fit can be deceptive so I was half tempted to close my eyes today.  But, I weighed myself.  Then stepped off the scales and weighed myself again.  Huh.  Three pounds down both times.  I want twenty to add to that previous eighty, but I am not yet willing to diet.  I’m not strong enough for that yet.  I am still learning moderation, finding the happy medium somewhere between under-eating and overeating.  I think it is called NORMAL.

Okay… February Resolutions!

1.   Practice art:  get back into the daily habit of making art in “practice size” again.

I bailed on my goal of 1000 practice pieces at #334,  or at least that was the last numbered piece that I posted.  Yes, I am reviving BeesATC with a few changes… new template, cleaner look, and a self-imposed rule of NO RAMBLING!   It will be as it started out to be… an art blog.  I can ramble here, no need to ramble there.  I want to try some new techniques and different things, so it might get interesting.  At least for me… maybe you will find it interesting, too.

2.  Get wet:  go to the Y at least once a week.

The water pressure helps my circulation, even if all I can do is a little deep water walking.  When I went to a pool regularly, I got so I could float on my back so I’m thinking maybe someday I will be able to swim again.  (Previous attempts resulted in spasms.)  They have a water exercise class for people with arthritis, so maybe I can do that, too.

3.  ID Anti-Social Behaviors:  am I becoming too anti-social?

I am resolving to think about that this month.  Then, if warranted, come up with a strategy to remedy the situation.  The thing is, I don’t know if I am becoming too anti-social or just getting  more weird about my personal space.  I very rarely invite anyone over. Friends and family have always known to call first, to give me at least an hour advance notice.  I have to mentally prepare for guests and sometimes, I have to put my toys away.  My nest is my nest, my personal private space, not a place to hang out.   I don’t want people knocking on my door.  When I feel like socializing, I go out.   It works for me… but I’m afraid it may offend people who are more socially inclined.

 

Sneak Peek of last night’s “first new post” on BeesATC (otherwise this post is just words):

a335

Thanks for reading!  Hopefully, I will catch up on my reading this weekend.

Rain Stick

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FRIDAY:   I made a rain stick today.  Yeah, it was kind of like a kiddie craft time with a “mindfulness” lady before the holiday dinner prepared for the residents of this building, but it is all cool.  There is a history to rain sticks, but the purpose of these rain sticks is to soothe your mind with the sounds of rain.  It does sound like rain, when you tilt the stick one way or the other, as the little pellets inside travel over obstacles in their fall.  We each decorated our own cardboard tubes, using the stick on foam shapes that  came in the group activity kit.   It was a good, non-committal way to find out about the “mindfulness” meetings as she talked about what they do.  I might start going. 

I noticed something odd with the local lingo… no one “lives” here; they “stay” here.  It sounds so temporary, as in my mind, you “live” at home, and “stay” places on vacation.   Maybe no one really feels at home here, or maybe it is an alternate universe and we are all caught in a time warp.  Okay, so I have a wacked imagination.  I have been asked several times if I stay here now so yeah, I stay here, too.

SATURDAY:   FedEx Smartpost (shipped by FedEx to the local post office, delivered by USPS mail) online tracking thing tells me that items ordered on Wednesday to be delivered “within seven days” will arrive today.  Yikes!  I don’t know what the Saturday mail proceedure for packages is here in this building.  On weekdays, the USPS mailman will leave packages with the ladies in the office for safe keeping, who then telephone the resident to come down and pick it up.  I really like that, as I have had too many packages stolen when I lived (or stayed) in other apartment buildings.  Now I don’t know what is going to happen today because the office is closed on Saturday.  Will the mailman leave it in the office anyway?  (Not likely, the door is locked.)  Will he leave it in the mailroom?  (Its locked, too… but that is his room behind the rows of locked mail boxes.)   Will he leave a slip in my box and make me go pick up my package at the post office?  Will he leave it with the security guard or bring it to my door? Or will he leave it – hopefully not – on the floor in front of the mailboxes for anyone to steal?  Nah, I think he knows better than that, there’s bound to be a reason why packages go to the office, a history of vanishing packages or something.  So, I don’t know if I will get my package today, on Monday, or not at all. 

What did I order? 

Chocolate denim leggings and violet purple jeans.  And what else?  Oh yeah, a beaded gauze dress on clearance dirt cheap.  The purple jeans were also on clearance.  It is a light violet shade.  I had to think a minute about that color, but I have no problem wearing light blue demin so why not light purple?

I made a decision this week… it is time to stop wearing jeans that are two sizes too big, which meant that I only had one pair of jeans that actually fit me and one pair of jeans that are only one size too big.  As for sloppy tops, they’re okay for around the house, but too big to wear in public anymore.  It is time to accept the fact that I am not going back up over that line.  Those “fat clothes” will never fit me again.  The mind takes so long to catch up as I really don’t feel smaller than I felt fifty, or even eighty pounds ago.  The only time I feel skinnier is when I wear the jeans that actually fit, so maybe if I only wear jeans that fit, maybe it will be a good thing.

Well, maybe I should get dressed proper enough to go out in public and go talk to the security guard, ask him if he knows what the mailman does with packages delivered on Saturdays.