![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Lousy dreams and night sweats will hopefully not set the tone for today. I'm up early for the early call, feeling the cost of lost time yesterday. I dithered and dawdled at work until i realized i should take some analgesics: my mouth is in significant discomfort. The evening was gently spent with Christine, who is also dealing with some mild apprehension about a very visible presentation she's giving on Friday. We watched the pilot for the TV series Eureka, a pleasantly over the top, Area 51-ish, absurd ... mystery? series.
The lousy dreams included murder and only a practical response from the dream me -- calculations of how much time i'd have to escape -- no guilt or shame or anguish. External to the dream, i find myself feeling a great deal of shame. I hope the pragmatic and problem solving sense of the dream reflected that whatever the truth of the dream was, it did not have to do with the surface symbols. Then again, air travel was involved: i'm not enthusiastic about the challenges of air travel.
--==∞==--
Balancing between disappointment and joys is so hard. The tiny disappointments are magnified, and i pick at them like picking at a tiny scab that then becomes the total of my experience. One disappointment is that i seem to have lost or deleted photos i took of the heart shaped "wreath" i made for the front door. I was inspired just at Christmas in the craft store, when the Yule holiday decor was on sale and the Valentines day decor was just starting (which reminds me that i bought heart decorated socks for Christine and i, but put them somewhere safe and did not get them out yesterday). The deeply discounted Yule decorations included artificial brown branches that ended in glossy red "buds," like shiny red pussy willows. Almost identical materials were used in Valentine's decor, being sold at a premium.
Our door is a teal blue and the deep red of the heart-shaped wreath is a lovely contrast. I remember fiddling around, trying to get reasonable light, and hoping once i processed the image it would look attractive. I even came up with a nice caption for the image about the doors of our hearts.
When i went to look for the image, it was gone.
This joins the list of lost things: the travel bag with the yarn for Mom's Mother's day gift (and my first sock, and some other sock yarn), my bluetooth headset, a retractable USB cable. At least the door is still there, and i can find another day with good light to take another photo (maybe even using a reflector to improve the angle of the lighting).
I suppose i fret about lost time, too, but -- thank heavens -- i don't count it this way.
I hate walking away from the quiet reflection time of morning, into the work world. Not because i hate work, but because of that ideal of perfection i hold for myself, i want my emotions sorted, my plans made, my sense of time to all be ironed and tided and neat so i can project an image of untroubled tranquility.
Will it help me to recognize that this is just as much about *appearing* tranquil as actually being tranquil? Understanding that tranquility is what one earns by striving to make order out of chaos, but by trusting that the chaos hides some order?
Or something. Phone call!
The lousy dreams included murder and only a practical response from the dream me -- calculations of how much time i'd have to escape -- no guilt or shame or anguish. External to the dream, i find myself feeling a great deal of shame. I hope the pragmatic and problem solving sense of the dream reflected that whatever the truth of the dream was, it did not have to do with the surface symbols. Then again, air travel was involved: i'm not enthusiastic about the challenges of air travel.
--==∞==--
Balancing between disappointment and joys is so hard. The tiny disappointments are magnified, and i pick at them like picking at a tiny scab that then becomes the total of my experience. One disappointment is that i seem to have lost or deleted photos i took of the heart shaped "wreath" i made for the front door. I was inspired just at Christmas in the craft store, when the Yule holiday decor was on sale and the Valentines day decor was just starting (which reminds me that i bought heart decorated socks for Christine and i, but put them somewhere safe and did not get them out yesterday). The deeply discounted Yule decorations included artificial brown branches that ended in glossy red "buds," like shiny red pussy willows. Almost identical materials were used in Valentine's decor, being sold at a premium.
Our door is a teal blue and the deep red of the heart-shaped wreath is a lovely contrast. I remember fiddling around, trying to get reasonable light, and hoping once i processed the image it would look attractive. I even came up with a nice caption for the image about the doors of our hearts.
When i went to look for the image, it was gone.
This joins the list of lost things: the travel bag with the yarn for Mom's Mother's day gift (and my first sock, and some other sock yarn), my bluetooth headset, a retractable USB cable. At least the door is still there, and i can find another day with good light to take another photo (maybe even using a reflector to improve the angle of the lighting).
I suppose i fret about lost time, too, but -- thank heavens -- i don't count it this way.
I hate walking away from the quiet reflection time of morning, into the work world. Not because i hate work, but because of that ideal of perfection i hold for myself, i want my emotions sorted, my plans made, my sense of time to all be ironed and tided and neat so i can project an image of untroubled tranquility.
Will it help me to recognize that this is just as much about *appearing* tranquil as actually being tranquil? Understanding that tranquility is what one earns by striving to make order out of chaos, but by trusting that the chaos hides some order?
Or something. Phone call!
Tags: