My Little Journal of Positivity

Some years ago, I realized that the concept of
“noblesse oblige” was strongly ingrained in me
almost to the point of deformation of character,
traits and abilities. That in some way one (I)
is always required to do the “highest” duty one can –
that one must devote oneself to the most complicated,
abstract, mentally-intensive work one is capable of
performing – because there are many people who can't
do that kind of thing, and it's unfair of one to not
live up to one's potential when others can't do it.

So I felt like I was not supposed to – or more like,
allowed – to do things that “just anyone could do”.
Or anything that might be the only thing someone
else could do – that I couldn't take anyone else's
job away from them.

Of course, there's a lot of definitional questions of
what that would involve (or exclude). Mostly it seems
to involve concrete thinking (anyone can read or write
simple things, add numbers together...) or practical/
household skills (anyone can clean a room or polish
furniture or dig a hole...) or physical techniques
(anyone can do rudimentary sewing to repair clothes,
or paint a wall, or drive a car, etc.).

So there are many things I'm not supposed to waste my
time learning, much less doing, because I am “too smart”
for that.

I was pondering this because my dad, specifically, is a
very “handy” type of person (he worked as a machinist
mate in the Navy, and then was a mechanic in the Martin
airplane factory before he went into teaching). Yet
while I helped him with several home and/or car repair
projects, I don't feel like I ever learned much in the
way of actual, systematic repair skills or techniques
from him – i.e. how to analyze a concrete problem and
then either troubleshoot or resolve it.

Did I ask my dad to teach me? No, but I'm wondering if
that was a subtler version of my “don't bother someone
if they are busy” fear. Could he have taught me that way,
those things? I have no idea, though the times I watched
him as a teacher or heard him tell stories, I know he's
very emphatic and intent on teaching people things that
are applicable to their lives.

Either it just didn't dawn on him that he could (or should)
teach me those type of things (but certainly he did share
other things with me) – or maybe he tried to and I didn't
have the capacity to learn that kind of thing (though I
do like to solve things systematically) – or maybe, as I
perceive it right now, the expectation was that I should
be learning the highest-level abstract things I possibly
could so that I could aspire to bigger and better things
than being a janitor or repairman or farmer or factory worker.

Similarly, my mother went to college and became a teacher
because she was intelligent, and that was an intellectual job
that was acceptable for women back in the 50s, not to mention
the fact that my father was doing the same thing and she wanted
to be with him.... but she didn't like teaching, it wasn't a
good fit for her personality. The rest of her jobs went
“backwards” from that – from basic office/clerical tasks in
my grade school, to being a meat cutter/cashier at the local
grocery store, to her last attempt to work as an expert/
salesperson in a craft store... where my own perception is
that she panicked at the added responsibility, began to feel
like she had failed/was about to fail, and got sick in order
to quit.

Which goes back to, I'm not supposed to take someone else's job.
I'm not allowed to do simple work or tasks. I feel like I have
to do what other people expect me to do, or need me to do because
they can't. That I am trapped into doing intellectual work, or
thinking academic thoughts, all the time, and forever.

I fear that if I take any time off – or if I stop doing this
type of work for any reason – I'll be perceived as quitting,
or irresponsible, or failing my potential and not fulfilling
(others') expectations. (Also that if I then try to go back
to doing it, I will have lost all ability for it. I already
have a lot of that fear just in the fact that I've done little
explicit user-centered design or testing in the last year.)

I don't know that I would want to stop doing it completely and
permanently – I am good at it and there is some value in it –
but I've been in some version of the “information sciences”
field for over 25 years (if you count my library assistant/
grad school years, it's been 26 years where this has been my
career path) and am now feeling quite a bit exhausted by both
the constant change, challenge and pressure of having to learn
new things to “keep up with the field”, and the parallel feeling
that actually both the problems and solutions just keep getting
recycled rather than actually resolved.

At this point in the formal essay-writing process, the
expectation is: having discussed the fundamental issue,
one should now propose realistic ideas or suggestions
to resolve the problem and not play “yes, but...” with
the reading audience. However, I don't feel able to
find solutions or possibilities that aren't radically
drastic and thus perceived to be unrealistic since people
don't dramatically change all at once – if they think
they do, it tends to be a “Flitcraft moment” where they
move out of their pattern briefly but eventually lapse
back into the same type of existence they ran away from
previously. Because as Buckaroo Banzai and all the Buddhas
say, “Wherever you go in life, there you are.”

I don't feel like I can stay the same.

But I don't feel like I'm allowed to change, either.

And there's damn little fruit juice in this bottle....

I've reached out to other people.
Now I need to reach myself.

If I've seen or talked to you recently,
know that I cared enough to do that,
and that you do matter to me. But
there needs to be a right me
for you to matter to.

I said something I needed to you,
and the world did not end.
Thank you for listening.
Thank you for touching me.

The entire point of dreams filled with trivia is:
Hey! Your dreams are filled with trivia.
Either wake up, or get new dreams.

It's important.

I'm tired of it not being important.

I'm sick of being told what I should think
is important.

You don't know me. You don't know.

Sometimes I don't realize how hungry or thirsty I am,
until I have a little meat, until I drink some juice.

Sometimes I don't know I still am.

If you knew. If you knew.

Anyone got a Banana Splits decoder ring?

In other news, I still hate fall.

This afternoon I stood in the yard in the rain.

There was earth and stone, cool wind and breath,
water in drops and blasts and broken sheets.

And small -- so small - sparks of fire, burning
like navigational stars in a lost universe.

And there are still flower petals on the car,
after the deluge, as the storms move on.

The divine should not be somewhere out there.
The divine should be in here.

Come back to me.
Or let me go.
Or find me here, and take me there.

Don't look at yourself in the mirror.
Look at what is reflected in the mirror,
if you wonder what I see.

If you don't wonder? Then I don't care.

I dreamed last night that someone
stole my wallet, drained my bank account,
and maxed out my credit cards.

You were there.

I can be vulnerable with someone I trust,
but you have to *be* that person.

Or not.

Dear Tir'na Na Nogth,
I can't run away from home
if I don't know where it is.
And I don't know where I'm going -
Only that I'm not there. At all.

Forever yours in Amber,
Conscious

I hate midwinter.

Everyone who knows me, knows I hate midwinter.

Gonna put one foot in front of the other
until spring.

Going slowly, maybe.

But going.

And yet... I'm close to the divine.
I can feel it. I have seen it. Touched it, even.

I hear you calling.
Please let me hear what you are saying.

I'm not good with change, but it does happen.
This year is likely to be more stressful and busy
than usual, so I'm being proactive where I can be.

Posted notice: I will still be reading LiveJournal,
but will be cross-posting from Dreamwidth. All of my
previous entries are backed up there. Just in case.

Thank you all for being there. Wherever there is.

I see so many people struggling.
I hear so many people hurting.
The strong get torn down;
the weak get torn up.
How can I make this world less dark?
You tell me, and then we'll both know
how to reach out in a lack of light
and touch without shocking each other.

(Unless we both need the electricity.
Then please, oh please, let the juice run.)

I've seen the divine. Quite recently in fact.
But I don't see how to get there from here.
So far. So far.

Yet the future keeps right on coming.

I do not object to making sausage, eating spaghetti, and
batting clean up. But doing all three at once? A bit much.

I am grateful for any help and understanding I receive.

So far, so far, so far.

I want to go where nobody knows my name.
I want to go a long way.
I want to go.

Please let me go.

I did not dream last night.

Ssy, have you seen me recently?
I'm not exactly lost,
but I don't feel very found.

I want to sleep long enough to dream.

I'd like to be present in the moment.

I need to get by.

Right now.

Breathe.

Walk away.

Have been pondering "communities vs. individuals" a lot.
Connection vs. disconnection. Can you have both?
How do you balance the social and the solitary?

Feel like I'm looking for a practical spirituality
and not finding it. I believe in immanence... but
right now I'm not sure it believes in me.

People are hard. Groups of people are harder.

Am I crazy? Is it me? Is it you?

So, this post is not about Italy. It's about Japan.

A friend recently commented that he didn't think of me
as a T-shirt and jeans kind of girl. :) I was entertained
because that's close what I think of as my "normal state",
but this friend has generally seen me (1) in contexts where
I should be wearing fancier clothes, or (2) when I'm cold
and wearing sweater or sweatshirt -- which are often hiding
a T-shirt.

(1) involves everything from work to dancing, and I get as
close as I can to social norms without sacrificing too much
to fashion; (2) includes everything under, say, 65 degrees.

But I have certain T-shirts that between physical comfort
and emotional meaning, I come back to again and again. Some
of them are so worn and tattered now that I only unfold and
don them for "special occasions". Others hang in there -- or
more precisely, don't hang because they often get yanked out
of the clean laundry basket before folding even occurs.

Two of them involve Japan in some way, which is why this post
comes out in this particular way and this particular time.

I went to Japan in Aug. 2007. Not to go to the Worldcon in
Yokohama (just like I went to Los Angeles in 1996 not to go
to Worldcon). As Patty Larkin would say, "Just to go."

Just to be.

I've lost my luggage in the Tokyo subway locker system;
bought a CD from a band named Hanamizuki playing free on
Minato-Mirai plaza; seen The Great Sasuke and Ultimo Dragon
performing at Korakuen Hall; stood in the Ghibli Museum
wearing my Princess Mononoke T-shirt; and climbed to a peak
of Daisetsuzan, aka the "Roof of Hokkaido".

And:

I've used the Internet to discover the best "jingisukan"
in Sapporo, and Lonely Planet to locate its two sublime
ramen-noodle alleys; stopped over in Tomokomai because of
a poster for an exhibition of matchbox art; experienced
shinkansen and subways, ryokans and train sleeping cars,
but did not try a capsule hotel; and discovered "umeshuu".

And:

I've chatted with train conductors, zookeepers, members of
art museums, convenience store attendants, early morning
sushi aficionados, temple attendants, and more: I, in my
stumbling Japanese, them practicing English eagerly in turn.

And:

I've been to Sendai. I have a picture of the train station
sign for Hachinohe because I loved its kanji. I've walked
the streets of Aomori, provided crazy gaijin amusement for
their police dept., and had to eat a "tako doonatsu" that
my kosher-eating companion bought by mistake while he was
still catching up to me on transliterating and translating.

My language is rusty again, and my bottle of umeshuu is just
about empty, but my expired rail pass is still in my backpack.
For I do miss that alien self, adrift in a stranger's world.

Clad in a T-shirt, and jeans.

So, my Japan: never #1 on my list of places I'd want to live
(that'd be a slightly smaller island known as "the Big Island"),
but in the top 3. Because I never expect to "belong" anywhere,
and I would even tell you I don't like to travel... just to be.

Even now.

So, send help if you can. Or at least a positive thought or two.

Earlier heard birds.
Now, sere silence of dead grass
Scratched by vehicles.

Bobcats squat in mud,
Yellow screaming against brown,
Clawed wheels churned deep.

The sober of cold
Stays outside blue neon bars
Not drinking it in.

Shelves filled with shiny
things I do not want to buy;
I do turn around, and leave.

You level and build
Metal trees and plastic wood
Over life's underground.

You sweep your streets free
of the broken and feral --
no place for me, here.

Beware the beast, then,
Prowling civilization
With no affection.

Later, sun through glass
redeems one moment -- but a
window remains closed.

I also declared to the world at large that I would ride it out, and
I would not allow X to ride me. But to go from where I was to where I
wanted to be, I needed something. I needed an anchor, an image, a peg
to peg this process on, so that I could go from there. And I found that
in my dance, my dance, my strength, my energy, my passion, my very life breath.
-Ananda Shankar Jayant, TED video

Feet? Check. Hands? Check. Brain? Check.

Will the real me please stand up? Oh, there you are...

I think. But I feel the Big Cat Blues.

As the saying goes – the only way out is through. Explore the deficiencies,
the hidden beliefs. Open them up to the light of awareness. The truth will
set us free. The false dissolves. Only the real remains.
John, in Open Secrets

Do you ride the lion, or does it ride you?

I need more words, more music, more dance, my voice.

I want to go to the end of my world -- my jungle.

I would like to walk around being a lion, and
not worrying about being king or not.

I intend to stretch.

I see you.

In every flower that blooms --
tree that leaves --
bee that buzzes --
wasp that stings.

I see you in the ice on frozen driveways,
and the water flowing in Winters Run,
and the steam rising from cow manure
dropped in a cold Jarrettsville dawn.

In pine trees, and weeping willows, and crabapples.

I hear you in the chatter of chickens and
the chewing of cows, in political discourse
and private confessions, and in everyone's
laughter.

I hear you in groups, in tete-a-tetes, and
in silence.

You are there every time I darn a sock, or
change my oil, or go to work, or do my taxes,
or come home, or listen to music, or read a book.
Right there -- and generally adding your opinion!
(We don't always agree, but it always has value.)

I touch you in flannel and in velvet,
in rusted steel and the fur of animals,
in fuzzy sweaters and cotton/polyester,
in the rocks of the field
and the bones of my hands.

I taste you in overcooked roast beef
and fresh asparagus, in white rice
and red spices -- cinnamon, paprika,
and catsup.

I smell you in fresh-cut wood
and in turpentine, in new-mown grass
and in bales of straw, in summer's air
and autumn's fall.

(Oh, can't forget lemon-scented Pledge.
Otherwise, I hate lemon -- just about
as much as you seem to love it.)

And best of all, in all my senses,
I can perceive you in others'
hearts and minds.

Whatever you eventually reincarnate as, be it
Buddha or beetle, I know one thing for sure.

Your spirit, is gonna cause some mischief.

I dreamed last night that I felt fine,
but that some doctor was convinced I needed
an immediate operation to remove something
dangerous.

But I could never get an answer from him, or
any of the hospital staff what, exactly, was
the problem.

Despite going back into the dream -- twice! --
to try and get an answer from them. Or anyone.

Ah, sometimes Tir'na Na Nog'th is a subconscious.
And sometimes, just a left turn at Albuquerque.

Still, I think maybe I know what it means.

The answers lie in me and no one else.

More later, I think. Cleaning, sorting, changing
and throwing out are all short-term items on the
long-term plan.

I dreamed last night I was the last
passenger on a jet plane with 16 cabins
which varied wildly in accommodation.

Fourteen passengers were already on board.
split evenly between friends and allies
and so there were only two cabins left
for me to choose from.

One was the smallest, just a white closet.

The other was the largest, with controls,
monitors, and a VHS deck containing a tape
labeled "Safety Procedures for This Flight".

Ah, sometimes Tir'na Na Nog'th is a subconscious.
And sometimes, just a hard slap in the face.

I dreamed last night that my first solo flight
in a helicopter was to a town in North Carolina.
Three important people were my passengers.

From there, I found I needed a (new?) map
to go on.

Ah, sometimes Tir'na Na Nog'th is a subconscious.
And sometimes, just a mirror.

1. Get on bus [normally 10-15 minute ride].
   
2. How about a quick email check on mobile phone?
   [Motorola CLIQ:Android, 2 weeks and still shiny]
   
3. Open [in GMail] a promotional email from a
   certain major book/etc. retailer touting their eReader!
   
4. Specifically touting "Got a BN eReader? Get a Free Coffee!"
   
5. Don't drink coffee, but do like the idea of a BN eReader.
   Am trying out 2 different ebook apps already, sure, add a third...
   
6. Text in email that says "Download eReader" is bold and
   differently colored. Try clicking that to download. Success?
   
7. Fail. Does not download eReader(or do anything else).
   
8. Irritated and pressed for time, so missed seeing smaller
   link farther down page -- after some more promo text -- which says
   "Download it now". It? What's an 'it'? I'm skimming for 'eReader'.
   Fail.
   
9. Also ignore link at top saying "Hurry! Offer Ends July 15.
   Coffee's On the House - When You Show the eBook You're Reading*"
   not expecting it to do anything other than blather on more about
   the promotion, how wonderful coffee is, how wonderful ebooks are,
   etc. Because I don't care about the coffee, dammit, and I'm not
   reading an eBook yet because I don't have your eReader yet. Fail.
   
10. Use a link in email to go to major book/etc. retailer
    website home page.
    
11. Search for 'eReader'.
    
12. Search results don't bring up eReader in 4 results,
    but do have link to "Download eReader" in footer. Success?
    
13. Fail. Link says "page not found".
    
14. To add insult to injury, it suggests I use search.
    
15. Impatient [bus has turned onto Columbia Pike] I go to
    Google and search 'barnes noble ereader'. [I used to be a
    librarian, kids, don't try this at home.] Link to [correct]
    page shows up 2nd or 3rd.
    
16. Go [back] to BN via Google. Find "Download eReader."
    Success?
    
17. Fail. Link wants to send me to iTunes to download. WTF?
    If I wanted iTunes on my smartdevice I woulda bought an iPhone.
    
18. [Whole rant re: years of me vs. iTunes deleted for time.]
    
19. Bus is now on Hayes St. I have about 3 more minutes of
    Internet connection before going into heavy shielding [aka the
    DC Metro]. Back to Google and search just 'eReader'... looking
    for reviews, maybe, to see if this thing is even worth my time.
    
20. See a result for ereader.com. Ooh! Go there. Success?
    
21. Maybe! Top banner even says "a Barnes & Noble Company"
    and in left nav there is a top link for "FREE eReader Software
    ▪ Download Now!" Click on that.
    
22. Ooh! Nice listing of phones and Android is right there!
    Click on "Android", hoping it doesn't route me back to iTunes...
    
23. Adds "eReader for Android" choices at bottom. Extra step,
    but I sure feel I'm on the right path now... click on that as
    bus turns into Pentagon.
    
24. Android applications manager tells me I'm default set
    NOT to install apps that are NOT from the official Android store.
    Oops. I know how to fix that, though. Quick detour through Settings
    and I'm downloading and installing eReader.
    
25. Launch eReader. Hmm, no obvious BN branding? Sure hope
    I have the right app... can't worry about that for the next 5
    minutes as I transfer modes of transportation and lose Internet.
    
26. Temporary reconnection as subway crosses above river.
    List of ebooks available. Choice for Categories or "View ebooks
    by Author". [I used to be a *cataloging* librarian, kids, so I
    know how erratic categorizing fiction can be.] Authors! Ooh!
    
27. Nooooo! Search and browse design unthinking! Gives me
    a list for 'A' authors, with choices at top for the other letters
    of the alphabet. However, it also alphabetizes the middle initial
    A. as the start of a last name.
    
28. And, it displays results as 'first name last name'.
    
29. And, should you scroll down to 'Mariano Azuela ' at
    bottom of 'A' list, no way to get to 'B' list without scrolling
    back up to top of page, which is a royal pain on mobile devices
    where the screen is long and thin.
    
30. Back underground and on to work, via a maze of twisty
    corridors that all look alike...
    

If you did something for me?
Thank you. I appreciate it.

If I did something for you?
You're welcome. My pleasure.

And if we didn't do anything?
It's okay. Try again tomorrow.

I feel my connection to the divine.
I'm grateful for the light and heat.
But a rainstorm would be lovely too.

If I were a believer in omens, this morning I
missed the bus *and* the elevator to work is broken.

And then, the cursor on my laptop froze in place.

And I'm thirsty. Still so thirsty.

Sometimes the 60GB iPod acts more like an
audible tarot deck than a soundtrack to life.
This morning's zodiac clockwork orange spread:

Blue Oyster Cult - "Real World"
Loretta Lynn - "Mrs. Leroy Brown"
Donna Summer - "I Remember Yesterday"
The Joker's Wild - "Crazy Lady"
Sue Foley - "Let My Tears Fall Down"
Scorpions - "Nightmare Avenue"
Joe Jackson - "Rant and Rave"
Blue Oyster Cult - "Hot Rails to Hell"
Bizarre Inc. - "Playing with Knives"
Stephen Halpern - "Trance-ZENDANCE"
Marillon - "Alone Again in the Lap of Luxury"
Lambert, Hendricks & Ross - "Halloween Spooks"

and the hidden baker's dozen song was...?
Lee Press-On and the Nails - "Jumpin' Jive"

Other people make decisions without me.
Why can't I?

Unless maybe the decision doesn't matter.

Dear Tir'na Na Nogth,
Did I really need dreams invading my waking hours?

Well, yeah, maybe I do.

But next time, just drive-by with a bunch of Swords.
Faster, more elegant, -- and I do like to recycle.

Forever yours in Amber,
Conscious

Seems like I'm most impressive at a (safe) distance.

The farther away you are, the more interesting I am.

Maybe I should move very far away from anyone else.

Do I feel better because I take the vitamins,
or do I take the vitamins because I feel better?
Or maybe the vitamins take me.
Whatever. Just take the vitamins.

Easy games can provide a sense of accomplishment.
It may seem like a "false" sense because the game
is not "real". But you, and your play, are as real as.

Try asking for what you want. It's hard to hear nos,
but at least you're speaking for yourself when you do.

More honey than vinegar. But vinegar can bring the tart.

Let's face the music -- and dance.

Too long a cooped-up lionness --

Every song I've mixed this year has been true, if you only knew.

Even the ones you didn't hear me play a thousand times, thinking.

... a secret out, a secret in.

Break in, break out,
but not break up,
not break down.

The brakes are off.
The drive is on.

Not broken, just the breaks.

A secret out, a secret in...

Sing me, sing you, sing cuccu too...

The world goes swift around
On an axis that shifts instant;
Sometimes it seems sound
that only change is constant.

Dreams are hard to share
Being so personal a metaphor;
For our needs that need care
Are the why that dreams are for.

Your time is not anyone else's,
So allot your hours as you may.
Call it a virtue to be selfish --
If that new self meets others halfway.

Longings deferred be not longings denied,
Long distances need not estrange --
A walk on your path can be tried,
But only my own can I change.

Groweth sed, and bloweth med,
and springst the world anew.
Spring and summer are coming, she said:
In season, let our own selves come true.

Statement 1: I am comfortable in myself and I value my friends.
Statement 2: I value my friends and I am comfortable in myself.
Do you feel any difference?
Do you feel any different?
Do you believe any differently?

I believe there's a difference between a
pain in the heart and a pain in the neck.

I believe there's a difference between
education and a lecture.

I believe there's a difference between
honey and vinegar.

If you don't understand me or
think I should be different,
you don't understand me and
you're right, I am different.

And you know, if you think me childish, then
hey, I think I'll run along and play now.

When I was a child, I read Thor Heyerdahl.
So I've been in sacred caves on Easter Island.

When I was a child, I read Joy Adamson.
So I've been to the savanna and run wild.

When I was a child, I read J.R.R. Tolkien.
So I've been to Middle Earth and met Ents.

I'm not bad at traveling once I get going.
But I never really understand it
until I get there.

If then.

I want to go to the place where I want to be.

You know where that is?

I don't.

Tao is about ten thousand things,
and the one.

Try to deal with ten items a day. Move them around,
use them up, throw them out, whatever works.

Whenever eating anything with tomato sauce, remember to
wear a black shirt and also have the laundry hamper handy.

There must be at least a hundred ways to game a system.
When in doubt, consider that anything can be solved
given enough time or willingness to break things.
Which one would you choose?

That's a minimum of ten items, by the way.
You can always go to eleven if you want to.

Do things you enjoy.
Do things you can.
Do things.

A picture can be worth a thousand words. Though sometimes
one word is "Aww..." and it just gets repeated a thousand times.

Thanks Bill, Berry, Cait, cats, and Wolfie.

Step, step, step.

If your foot lands in mud, pull it up, shake it off.
Go on.

If your other foot lands in shit, pull it up, shake it off.
Go on.

Go to the bathroom first.
Then drink deep from your mystical cup.
Pry your ghost loose from its shell,
and find a right space for your words.

Point out the middle path, and
reconcile the polarities. Bring
creativity and flexibility to
the way you go about your way
in the world. Move slowly and
deliberately if change is required.

Don't be too proud to ask for someone's
help. Sometimes you do get it.

What kinds of negative messages,
self-doubt or paranoid fantasies
descend upon you from time to time?
Don't let them undermine your ability
to be who you are and to contribute.
Examine them and give them each a name,
and identify them as separate from you
(imagining them as little demons can help).
This will increase your dominion over them.

Turn the page. Write the next line.
Take my foot off the brake already!

A path is traversed one step at a time.
A navigator can help you find the way.
Is it a lantern, or only an hourglass?

Simon says: take a baby step, baby.