Nasty Weather

Morning here.  Cold, wet and grey outside.  The weather here can take you down and you need to fight back.  You need to go

“Oh no you nasty weather—you’re not going to win.  I’m not going back to bed and pulling the covers up over my head and shudder and shake until Spring.  Spring here looks like winter anyway only warmer.”

So my recipe for staving off the mildew blues—activity.  Clean house, wash the dog, meet Sue for coffee and a walk, wash the dog, read a book, write a book, move, move, move.

Keep your head above the weather.  Arise and poke your head out above the clouds like Mt. Rainier.  There are sunnier days somewhere—visualize.

Speaking of nasty weather, how about that Trump? We have certainly learned a few things have we not;  things we don’t think about, we aren’t aware of, we choose not to engage. By things, of course, I mean racism, homophobia and misogyny.

Trump and his minions have gleefully stirred up a whole ugly pot of resentment, hatred of the other,and  greed.  The only thing not in his pot are necrophilia and we still have ten days to go until the election.

What are the seven deadly sins?  They are lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, avarice, pride and envy.  Not to go all biblical on you, but we all have the capacity to be bad characters. That’s why sainthood is so remarkable.

But here’s the deal—we need our leaders to be more evolved. We need our leaders to want to be more evolved.  Our leaders can be conservative or liberal, all the colors of the rainbow, any sex they choose, out and proud or in and closeted.  They can go to the synagogue, the church, the mosque or the local DQ(my personal favorite).  But they need to be honorable and working toward the greater good, not their greater power or wealth or whatever.  Don’t for godsakes try to work out your bizarre sexual kinks on line (that’s for you, Weiner).  Don’t grab pussies and make fun of people just because you can.  Don’t be littler and meaner than the rest of the populace.  Rise above. Do right.

I know I’m preaching to the choir.   And the choir I want to speak to isn’t listening.  Ah well.

 

 

Bear Dreams

Had trouble waking up this morning.  Still struggling.  I was deep deep into sleep and strange dreams.  Wish I knew a Jungian I could call.  Wait—I will call Liliane later on and have her do the analysis.

I am having dreams about big black bears.  The first dream was horrifying as the bear was devouring me.  I don’t know if this was a throwback to the Revenant but I could feel every bite as I was being devoured.

The second dream, the bear was outside my door.  I was not frightened, in fact I considered opening the door and hanging with the bear.

To eat or be eaten.  Is that the question?  Maybe to be eaten or to meet and greet.

The bear is my totem.  Maybe it’s an ouroboros.  To eat oneself.

The ouroboros eats its own tail to sustain its life, in an eternal cycle of renewal.  Ah renewal.  I could use a little of that.  

 

 

Madrona Day Treatment

Thinking this morning about all the wonderful people I worked with at Madrona Day Treatment.  What a wonderful team we had!  What loving, warm, funny and committed people.  I’m calling out Chris Borer, Amber Beck Garcia, Samantha Thumma Smith, Matt Lacombe, Katie Milligan and countless others–(Malia, Joel and on and on).  I loved the years I worked there and I think of you all with love, joy and laughter.  Thank you!

Cortana abuse

So I’m typing on WordPress, minding my own mind and a fuckling message pops up from Cortana saying tell me what your favorite teams are and I’ll update you.

I don’t want to be updated, I don’t have favorite teams, I just want to write on WordPress and be left alone and now I have this nudgy little whatever asking me to tap this or tap that if I want certain reminders.

You are a machine.  You work for me.  If I want something I’ll ask.  Leave me alone.

What can I say?

I just finished a great article about Leonard Cohen and a quote from Anthem leapt out at me:

“Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack in everything

That’s how the light gets in.”

 

Predation

Everyone’s a mark.  Trump uses his name, position, and money to bed whoever, and those victims play along thinking they’ll get taken care of, paid off, have some of that gold rub off on them.

This is a story as old as the hills.  Cosby, Kennedy, Clinton, Ailes, Trump, and on and on the whole world over.

Beauty is a commodity.  Cash in on it while you can.

During the 1970’s, I was working with my sister and her husband for the Democrats in New Mexico.  Sargeant Shriver and his team showed up at a fundraiser I was at, and his team was looking for willing ladies to join them after the fundraiser.

When I realized that they weren’t looking for meaningful interactions but simply a one-off, I took off.  I had been sleazed.  I had never experienced this before, and never felt the need to cash in on my youth and beauty.  I wasn’t holier than thou, it just pissed me off.  I don’t like being used.

Predation goes both ways.  Help me with my dick and help me with my career, however, are not equal because of the power differential.  The men hold the reins.  As long as the men hold the reins (pursestrings, power, influence), then women will struggle with decisions like—well maybe it doesn’t matter if he can get me where I want to go.

But it does matter.  When it’s over, you’re a conniving, manipulative whore and he is just a man doing what men do.