Three days now, a third day of waking up in the wee hours with this song playing in my head. And always on the same lyrics.

At a quarter past, a holy no, she had to turn around… when she couldn’t hold, oh she folded, a dissident is here… escape is never the safest path… a dissident, a dissident is here.

Lyrics from Pearl Jam’s Dissident

Stuck songs in my head usually reflect something going on in my life so I have to ask myself: What the hell is my mind pondering in my sleep?

Well, there’s the obvious (relationships) but I think it is deeper. What is not safe? What am I trying to escape OR will I bail, try to escape?

I’ll tell you a little secret and it is not open for discussion. When I started my 59 days, a friend suggested reading a book called “The Artist Way, a Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity” by Julia Cameron.

It is not exactly what I expected. Yes, I read reviews first, both pros and cons, and opted to check it out as an ebook from the public library. Ironically, digital books are exactly like real books so I had to wait until someone else returned it. I placed my request and waited. When it was returned, the library checked it out for me and someone, I suspect the person who had it before me, had already requested to check it out again. That’s cool as it means someone else in this area is doing this book’s 12 week recovery program, I’m not the only one who needs the book longer than 21 days. Odds are, I will return it early as I’m waiting for the used paperback copy that I ordered on eBay in Week One to arrive.

Yeah, I dove in… opted to actually do it instead of just reading the book.

My mind twirls the lyrics, spins them around, replacing words… she has to turn around, a holy no, she folded, a dissident is here.


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!