When I dream about Houses, I may be dreaming about my Self.
I'm no dream expert, but I've always been interested in Jungian theories about dreams and have taken a few classes over the years that tell me this is so.
In a recent dream, I was living in an old, weathered three-story house with a small extra room at the top. Since I am actually living in a 70 year-old body, three decades plus one, I think the symbolism is quite obvious.
In the dream, strangers were walking around in my house taking my treasures but not seeing me at all, even when I begged them to stop. One man took three light fixtures (not ones I actually own) and hauled them out to his truck.
I followed him. "Please give me my lights back," I yelled. But he put them in the bed of his truck and drove away.
(I followed him in my daddy's red truck, intent on getting my lights back, but, alas, I woke up before I caught the guy.)
The dreamed-house had once been a beautiful house with fresh paint, filled with the gifts and mementos that were precious to me. And yet, at the point of the dream story, it was being invaded by strangers.
Back in the real daytime world, I--and most of my friends--are in processes of simplifying our actual houses and getting rid of clutter, but we're also still painting and updating and acquiring new pieces for reasons of comfort and/or aesthetics. Our dream selves, like our daytime selves, are always in the process of change.
When I came home from my trip to find ruined floors from an air conditioning leak, it was, at first, almost as unsettling as discovering an injury in my body. To prepare for the removal of old floors and the laying of new ones, I have spent much of the past week moving everything I can personally lift to the only room that doesn't require new floors. I am dragging things over old floors that will soon be removed without taking the usual care to avoid scratches.
The process requires a lot of waiting--for estimates, choosing material, insurance calls. In this instance, after the floors are done, I'll also have to wait for a mold expert to determine if my house has mold and an allergist to tell me if there's a connection between mold and what I call "fibro days."
There are upsides:
When things are in chaos, when all the window coverings are down, when rooms are practically empty, you get to see the canvas fresh in different lights, unfiltered lights, revealing new possibilities.
I have six panels of wood today to watch in changing lights--from dark brown to whitewashed. With fibro flaring for three days, it's hard to decide. But tomorrow is another day, and as Scarlet O'Hara sort-of said, "I'll think about wood tomorrow."
Monday, November 26, 2018
Sunday, November 25, 2018
My house is shrinking!
I have moved my mattress and all breakables and whatever I could lift into the living room. The floors--all but the large pieces of furniture--are bare. Tomorrow I'll remove curtains and pictures and see how much the living room will hold. Then I'll pack my bags as if taking a trip and prepare to depart when the insurance and bidders duke it out and decide who's doing what.
Until the work proceeds, I'll live in the guest room on the single bed, in the bathroom, and then--when it's no longer possible to have a bed in the house, I'll move over to Kate's who's generously invited me to use her guest room during the tearing up and installation of new floors.
Seeing all these rooms bare is like watching a movie backwards!
Until the work proceeds, I'll live in the guest room on the single bed, in the bathroom, and then--when it's no longer possible to have a bed in the house, I'll move over to Kate's who's generously invited me to use her guest room during the tearing up and installation of new floors.
Seeing all these rooms bare is like watching a movie backwards!
Saturday, November 24, 2018
Victoria Suescum and her Beautiful Birds
Victoria invited Elena and me over to her house this morning to observe and learn about birds, hands-on.
Elena was delighted when Victoria met us at the door with Raine on her hand, and remained a rapt student the entire time, as Victoria taught her how to choose a cockatiel (pay extra for one that is hand trained), how to choose a cage, and all kinds of things I'd have never thought to ask.
It was enchanting for me to watch Elena's eyes sparkling with delight each time one of the three birds landed on her head or hand. Victoria has had many birds and she knows her stuff--what to feed them, how to make their feet stronger (use pecan twigs instead of dowels for perches), and what potential bird dangers to avoid.
As she talked, I texted Santa Clause with everything I was learning and snapped pictures. At the end of our visit, Elena drew a quick sketch of Raine and when we got home, she set about right away to drawing the lovebirds.
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| Kent build folding screen doors to prevent splattery decoration and destruction in his study-- as the birds are free to fly all over the house. |
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| Raine |
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| Elena and Victoria |
Really good bluegrass!
Tonight I met Will, Veronica, and Elena for a bluegrass concert at The Pig Pen on Broadway--along with lots of their friends. Then Elena wanted to come spend the night, so we went to Target to buy her some red Christmas pajamas. Of course, we had to stop by Pet Co and look at birds and fish and reptiles.
Since Santa is bringing her a cockatiel, she wants a gift certificate from me for Pet Co--though she doesn't know that I already bought a wrapped a box full of bird toys.
She is so excited because we are going to Victoria's house tomorrow to see her birds!
We've been listening to Christmas music and making things out of Play Dough on the floor--such a celebratory night all around.
Since Santa is bringing her a cockatiel, she wants a gift certificate from me for Pet Co--though she doesn't know that I already bought a wrapped a box full of bird toys.
She is so excited because we are going to Victoria's house tomorrow to see her birds!
We've been listening to Christmas music and making things out of Play Dough on the floor--such a celebratory night all around.
Thursday, November 22, 2018
Elena's Cockatiel
....may not even have hatched yet, but she is spending Thanksgiving getting ready for it. She's watching videos about how to care for and train her bird, and she's drawing pictures of cockatiels.
I'm wrapping bird toys for Christmas to entertain Santa's gift of a little bird:
At the Sol Center next week
Cinderella: There is More to Her Story Than Getting the Prince with Marga Speicher
Dates: Two Wednesdays, Nov. 28 and Dec. 5
Time: 7-9 p.m.
Tuition: $35 before Nov. 21, $40 after
Enrollment: 12 min. / 25 max.
Folktales have captured the hearts and the imagination of generations across the globe. They tell of struggles in human existence, of ways in which we engage with forces that affect us, of means that can aid our journey through life. They are symbolic stories that depict aspects of the archetypal world. This workshop centers around the story of Cinderella as told in Germany, Russia, and China, and explores it as a story of inner development. It describes loss of a caring parent; encounters with the harshness of life; experiences of envy, rejection, cruelty; tasks to be undertaken. It shows connections to life-giving energies and leads to a new phase in life. Exploration of how such images of loss, grief, pain, harsh tasks, inner and outer helpers – manifest in contemporary life – can lead us to grow with the help of Cinderella and re-enter our world with deepened understanding. We will listen to the stories and explore, discuss, reflect on the images with the aim of strengthening our capacities for living through troubling experiences.
Tuesday, November 20, 2018
Greek mythology for a first grader
Nana flew back to Georgia yesterday and I miss her--but we're already planning a spring trip.
We had such a good time, including doing a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle, which I find very quieting and meditative, calling and being called upon by repair people, short visits with friends who dropped in, and fun visits with Will and Veronica and the kids.
On one of our outings, Nathan suggested we play riddles. For a while, Elena got lots of answers right and made up good ones of her own. She was happy. I've noticed that people of all ages are happy when we know the right answers.
Then Nathan moved into Greek myths. "I am the daughter of Zeus," etc.
We were in familiar enough territory that I got all but one of his Greek riddles--and that, frankly, is because the answer was wrong. Somewhere along the line, he'd come up with a Greek goddess named Alice!
Suddenly, Elena dropped out of the game and got into her mother's lap. She had that look on her face that told us all she was tuning up for a cry. She was frustrated that the questions had veered past what she knew.
"What's wrong, Elena?" I asked.
"I don't know any gods!" she said.
So today I ordered her a book of Greek mythology. I wouldn't want her to be left out if the next riddle game turns Greek.
We had such a good time, including doing a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle, which I find very quieting and meditative, calling and being called upon by repair people, short visits with friends who dropped in, and fun visits with Will and Veronica and the kids.
On one of our outings, Nathan suggested we play riddles. For a while, Elena got lots of answers right and made up good ones of her own. She was happy. I've noticed that people of all ages are happy when we know the right answers.
Then Nathan moved into Greek myths. "I am the daughter of Zeus," etc.
We were in familiar enough territory that I got all but one of his Greek riddles--and that, frankly, is because the answer was wrong. Somewhere along the line, he'd come up with a Greek goddess named Alice!
Suddenly, Elena dropped out of the game and got into her mother's lap. She had that look on her face that told us all she was tuning up for a cry. She was frustrated that the questions had veered past what she knew.
"What's wrong, Elena?" I asked.
"I don't know any gods!" she said.
So today I ordered her a book of Greek mythology. I wouldn't want her to be left out if the next riddle game turns Greek.
Friday, November 16, 2018
Lea Glisson
Lea Glisson was a member of one of my long-standing writing groups for over a decade--except when she missed for a Spurs playoff. She published two memoirs--one of which I was lucky enough to work with her on as a writing coach--One Glad Morning.
We'd sit at her kitchen table and go over lines once a week and look at her family pictures. She was funny and wise and wonderful.
Last night I heard that she had died after a few weeks in ICU and I felt such sadness that all I could think of to do was to write a letter to the group that has since disbanded. We're sharing memories by email today of our oldest member who always walked into writing group smiling and then launched the meeting with a story. Everyone loved Lea!
During the years we met, we had members in every life decade--30s, 40s, 50s, 60s, and 70s. Then Lea turned 80 and we all soon jumped into our own next decades. It was a remarkable thing to have members of such diverse ages and professions and interests for so long!
Lea was also featured in our book, Wonderful Old Women, and whenever the interviewers and interviewees met to share the book, she'd walk into the group and proudly announce the page her story was on.
Mary Beth Edgerton's email this morning said, "Thank you, Linda, for bringing me into writing group so I could have the honor of knowing this amazing, faith-filled, gun-toting, self photo loving, praying grandma, boundless life force, Lea. You gave me a great gift. I'll always be grateful."
(Lea's bedroom walls feature collages of herself taken throughout her 80 plus years.)
One former member said--acknowledging that Lea was the pray-er in our group--"I think Lea's prayers got this Jewish gal through a lot of hard times."
"Heart-broken" is the word coming through in almost every note this morning--as we, though disbanded as an official writing group, are like a family of sisters who love each other and will miss Lea's presence in countless ways.
PS: Two fun postscripts about and for Lea
1. Whenever I took a trip, she'd say, "Post my pictures along the way with a sign that says For A GOOD TIME CALL...."
2. In response to hearing about Lea's death, Deb Field wrote: "She's in the land of eternal ice cream cones. We and the people at the drive-through windows will miss her." (Deb was one of the co-authors of WOW and shared Lea's birthday, May 13th.)
We'd sit at her kitchen table and go over lines once a week and look at her family pictures. She was funny and wise and wonderful.
Last night I heard that she had died after a few weeks in ICU and I felt such sadness that all I could think of to do was to write a letter to the group that has since disbanded. We're sharing memories by email today of our oldest member who always walked into writing group smiling and then launched the meeting with a story. Everyone loved Lea!
During the years we met, we had members in every life decade--30s, 40s, 50s, 60s, and 70s. Then Lea turned 80 and we all soon jumped into our own next decades. It was a remarkable thing to have members of such diverse ages and professions and interests for so long!
Lea was also featured in our book, Wonderful Old Women, and whenever the interviewers and interviewees met to share the book, she'd walk into the group and proudly announce the page her story was on.
Mary Beth Edgerton's email this morning said, "Thank you, Linda, for bringing me into writing group so I could have the honor of knowing this amazing, faith-filled, gun-toting, self photo loving, praying grandma, boundless life force, Lea. You gave me a great gift. I'll always be grateful."
(Lea's bedroom walls feature collages of herself taken throughout her 80 plus years.)
One former member said--acknowledging that Lea was the pray-er in our group--"I think Lea's prayers got this Jewish gal through a lot of hard times."
"Heart-broken" is the word coming through in almost every note this morning--as we, though disbanded as an official writing group, are like a family of sisters who love each other and will miss Lea's presence in countless ways.
PS: Two fun postscripts about and for Lea
1. Whenever I took a trip, she'd say, "Post my pictures along the way with a sign that says For A GOOD TIME CALL...."
2. In response to hearing about Lea's death, Deb Field wrote: "She's in the land of eternal ice cream cones. We and the people at the drive-through windows will miss her." (Deb was one of the co-authors of WOW and shared Lea's birthday, May 13th.)
Thursday, November 15, 2018
Squatting
A few years ago, I noticed that I could no longer squat all the way down to the ground and get back up without using my hands.
If you haven't hit that place yet, here's an article Nellie sent me to remind yourself to keep squatting.
https://qz.com/quartzy/1121077/to-solve-problems-caused-by-sitting-learn-to-squat/
If you watch a lot of Netflix or read in bed, as I do, maybe together we can figure out how to rebuild this important skill?
If you haven't hit that place yet, here's an article Nellie sent me to remind yourself to keep squatting.
https://qz.com/quartzy/1121077/to-solve-problems-caused-by-sitting-learn-to-squat/
If you watch a lot of Netflix or read in bed, as I do, maybe together we can figure out how to rebuild this important skill?
Saturday, November 10, 2018
Faces Places
This film on Netflix is a completely charming, artistic, graphically unforgettable French documentary that everyone should see!
Two friends--one a young man of 33 and one a woman of 88--set out across France to see villages and visages, places and faces, and to capture them on film. Then they paste enlarged versions of the photos on huge walls, over the bumps and tears of aged brick and wood.
The story of the friendship is so dear--as they travel together, yet share little of their personal lives. It's understated and simple and sweet beyond anything I've seen in a long time.
The woman does get to meet JR's 100-year-old happy grandmother. The woman photographer reveals a little about her former friendships, but we don't know if either is married or single, have children, or much of what they have done beyond their lives as photographers.
This is definitely one you'll watch more than once. We will.
Two friends--one a young man of 33 and one a woman of 88--set out across France to see villages and visages, places and faces, and to capture them on film. Then they paste enlarged versions of the photos on huge walls, over the bumps and tears of aged brick and wood.
The story of the friendship is so dear--as they travel together, yet share little of their personal lives. It's understated and simple and sweet beyond anything I've seen in a long time.
The woman does get to meet JR's 100-year-old happy grandmother. The woman photographer reveals a little about her former friendships, but we don't know if either is married or single, have children, or much of what they have done beyond their lives as photographers.
This is definitely one you'll watch more than once. We will.
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