Fave Tune: I Don’t Want to Know

I woke up with this Fleetwood Mac tune in my head and a clip about recognizing narcissistic behaviors with a check list to determine if you are in an abusive relationship in my inbox.

Oh, great. Please do not jump to conclusions.

I don’t have it in me to tolerate an abusive relationship. I’m too old and weathered to put up with psychological bull and I don’t know how to deal with physical abuse. I’ve seen too many women beat down, so my response might be with deadly force. You will know what happened if my next address is Marysville.

In fact, I periodically question my ability to tolerate relationships of any kind. Maybe I should stop writing blogs about it or venting over telephone lines.

Nah… that would be self-abuse.

Rest assured, dear friends, I am not in an abusive relationship.

Maybe my last post gave the impression that he expected me to drop my projects to do what pleased him…  nah, asking where I kept the broom was NOT a clue to make me jump up and do housework.  I told him where it was, and HE swept a floor.  He doesn’t try to control me. I’m the one who felt like I needed to take a night off, spend more time with my man… no manipulation on his part involved.

So, it’s okay here…. thanks for caring!

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!

 

Night Songs

I sing in my sleep.

Here I am, 55 years old, and learning something new about myself.

I called my sister for verification. Yes, she tells me, I sing in my sleep. I also talk, hum, and make odd noises. She thought I knew… but, how would I know what I do in my sleep if no one ever tells me?

I must be happy if I sing in my sleep. Maybe not… lately, I’ve been waking up Janis Joplin singing “take another little piece of heart now baby” in my head, but sometimes it is Stevie Nicks, Train, or the Black Crowes, could be any song but usually somehow reflects whatever is going on in my life at the moment.

Maybe I’m just humming or singing along to an audio memory in my sleep; not much different than humming or singing along with the radio jacked up while cruising down a highway.

Oh, do I miss my sweet baby, that Chrysler LeBaron two door coop convertible… hell, I miss that rusty old Bronco II as both those rides were fun to drive. My last car was a PT Cruiser. It was okay… but if I am ever able to drive again, if I ever buy wheels again, the top has got to drop. That’s just how it is.

IF? Now I’m dreaming. My ride these days is the WRTA bus on an E/D pass.

Reality bites… but, tell you a secret… you can choose the musical score for your own life.  What’s your theme? Got a background tune? What’s the soundtrack of your life?

It is YOUR choice… you can sing “woe, despair, and agony on me” along with the boys on Hee-Haw OR picks something that might actually help you get through whatever you are going through.

My personal favorite? “Roll with It” by Steve Winwood. Thanks for reading.