Dreaming Again and More

I’m typing on my giant laptop while lying in my bed.  It feels weird.  I’m kind of having that I want to be in Colorado feeling right now.  In Colorado writing looking out at a natural landscape.  I wonder if Brian ever reads my words.  I don’t want to go back.  I no longer have any feelings for him or about our short-term encounter and interest.  I don’t even really have any feelings about meeting him anymore.  But I am definitely thankful for the experience, esp the time spent together on our hikes and be-popping around Boulder that night.

I want to visit my niece.  She moved to Fort Collins a few years ago, after my visit to Boulder, and I have yet to make it back to Colorado to see her.  She is a precious young woman who lost her boyfriend in a motorcycle accident about a year after moving west.  So very sad.

But now to my dreams.  Last night, or I think this morning as I slept in, I dreamed I was at my friend Frances’s house.  She was having people over.  We were hanging out.  I was lying on the couch watching t.v. with a couple of other women.  They were sitting up.  Mitchell was in the other room – or maybe that was another dream – anyway, he was a little boy of maybe four or younger, as he is usually a little guy in my dreams and I love spending time with him at this age.   I think that was another dream.  I will come back to later.   While at Frances’s I was supposed to go to work.  I was kind of bummed as I wanted to stay there and hang out with everyone.  The one young woman I was kind of snuggled up to while watching t.v. reminded me that I needed to get ready to go.

I reluctantly got up to get ready to leave.  I also remember being in a little back kitchen cleaning dishes and telling Frances no t to do them that I would finish cleaning up when I got back.  To which she came over and started cleaning.  : )

I had gotten a new job working with school-age kids.  There were other adults too.  We were all going on a long walk to somewhere.  They went through a slight detour through the small loop path.  I tried to go backwards through it while they were still in it going against the flow.  Then I think my bike was in there and it was cumbersome to get it out esp going backwards through the kids going forward.  They were helpful though.

At some point when we were on the road or trail walking to where we were going right past the loop, Shannon was there. But it was though he had been there all along.  He was helping with my bike.  Maybe to get it into my car.  That’s about all I remember of that dream.  My heart didn’t really seem to be in it to be working with the kids, although they were fine.

Let’s see the dream with little Mitchell….He is 18 in real waking hours.  He wanted some pirate book I believe.  I told him that I would get it for him and went into the other room to look for it.  When I got to the playroom I kept seeing more and more pirate books.  I was distracted and didn’t find the one he was looking for.  Eventually he came into the room slightly irritated that I was taking so long as I had told him that I would get it for him.  I remember us both being in the room together, but that is about it.

In another dream it seems as though my mom was there.  She has been in my dreams lately.  We were in my house.  Always a house, car, road, or water in my dreams.  I’m trying to access the words for the experience.  I see images of us there.  We were looking outside the front window….what was happening out there has faded away.

I am switching gears here to dancing last night.  I made new friends as always.  I hope the one lady, Darla, contacts me.  I gave her my business card.  She is so wonderful and nice.  I swear I know her from somewhere but never did figure it out.  She was like my automatic friend, so friendly.   She even held my hand and put her arm around me and danced with me when I told her I needed to find someone to hold my hand when there was a slow song playing and couples dancing together.  He husband was next to her.  I told he maybe he would be jealous that she was dancing with me.  So she engaged him and he put his arm around her and the three of us swayed to the music.  Eventually after the amazing show, we discovered that we live very close and their son goes to school right down the street from where I live.  She is around my age which is cool as I am looking for some female friends in my age range.  There was another lady there too who was great.  I am bummed that I didn’t get her contact.  I was too busy talking to the sax player after the show.  He was very attractive and fit, and again, around my age, I am guessing.  He was very friendly but not flirty.  His wife of 23 years eventually came over to join us. She was very nice as well.  I wondered if she would be jealous but she didn’t appear to be at all, which was cool.

After the show ended and all of my visiting ended, I went to dance at my regular hang-out, The Roof.  There were just a handful of people there but we all danced together in a circle.  There was one guy who I had seen there before and wanted to dance with.  He seems a little shy but is a great dancer.  So I started dancing with him and he reciprocated.  It felt natural to move close together so we did.  We moved well together and had similar styles of dancing so that was great.  I turned around and put my back to him and danced and he obliged my “offer” to dance close in the spoon fashion if you will.  I was able to fit well and move to his lead.  This is the kind of connection that I love and had hope I would find there.  Our connection lasted a song or two then he and his friends were ready to go.  Oddly enough he didn’t even say goodbye but his friends did.  We exchanged hugs, and they were on there way.  I danced with a young woman who showed up.  When she went inside, I stayed out and danced by myself.  The whole dance floor to myself.  And I used up the space.  I had an amazing time letting loose like I always do.  Thomas, the D.J. was playing great music for me.  My own private dance party.  I had no inhibitions.  By this time there were only a few people left inside.

I will leave it there for now.  I should probably get out of bed as I slept in due to getting home late.  Have a good one!

I don’t think I will edit this so I hope you made it through this post okay.  : )

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Time

The timer is set for 15 minutes.  Write for at least 15 minutes every day.  Brief Daily Writing Session.  That’s what the teacher said.  That’s what she called it.

So, here I am. I am thinking about time this morning as I gaze down at the small tablet screen.  My fingers pecking away at the tiny keyboard.  Wondering how it could possibly be 10:00 a.m.  I got up a little after 8:00.  I slept until I felt like getting up.  After getting up I wrote out my to-do list for today, tomorrow, and Sunday.  I do so much better when I have a plan.  In writing.  Otherwise I can float around in the abyss of wide open time and space then wonder where the day went.  Feeling bad for not getting more done.  For not being more productive.

So were did the morning go?  This is what I’ve done…. After waking up, I thought about my dreams, about my mother, who was in my dreams.  I wrote my agenda x 3.  Went to the bathroom several times, used Nasopure to flush out my sinuses, blew my nose multiple times to coincide with the nasal rinses, checked texts and e-mail, responded to a text, sent a text, made my bed, opened all of the shades in the house, let the cat out, let the cat in, drank water, filled up the humidifier and got it running, wrote a client appointment down on the calendar, thought about the people I need to respond to, plugged in my tablet and phone, set meditation timer, meditated, cried and went down different paths during the 30 min meditation,  went to the bathroom again, now I am writing.  Well.  I guess I have done a lot!

Time is a strange thing.  A topic I wish to research more.  Even though time is relevant and experienced in the body/mind differently by each individual and the collective, it is a real thing in relation to the turning of the earth, the sun and moon, life and death.  The tides and seasons.  Day and night.  I put a lot of value into what I do each and every day.  It is important to me not to just waste my life away with frivolous things but I also give myself the permission to do some nothing on occasion.

My back hurts from sitting up on my cushion.  I need to add more back strengthening exercises to my routine.  I will be teaching a strength building class soon.  I thought it would be a regular new gig until the gym manager told me I was just subbing until they could get a high intensity class going.  That is not my thing.  I was bummed and felt as though he thought my class was second rate at first.  Then I remembered my new practice of changing the perspective from disappointed or a set-back to – this means there will be another opportunity somewhere else coming up that will be a better fit, ie more money and cleaner, healthier environment.

My timer is going off.  Time to wrap up the post!

Let me know what your thoughts on time are in the comments below.

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Good to be Alive Day

I sit in my bed, full of life.  Full of gratitude.  Although kind of tired of what seems like a catch word – gratitude.  I don’t like fads or trends.  I like to stay true. Stay authentic.  I push against following the masses.  Swimming mainstream.

Contrarian.  Maybe.  Probably.  I wonder if you are out there reading my words.  I am feeling my creative juices this morning.  And oh does it feel tasty!  I was watching Instagram videos of rappers and an awesome J.T. cover, knocking out details for my new class,  and refining my redefining for my re-branding.  All creative fuel and fire.  This makes me happy.  Creativity feeds me.  Keeps me going.  I may be better at the idea-generating than the make-it-happen.  But I just came to the realization that – Hey that’s okay!  We all serve our part on this beautiful planet.  I don’t have to be good at everything.  Something I often think is necessary.

It feels so good to be in the flow of writing.  The air has been a little stale lately.  It feels good for fingers to move rabidly across the keyboard.  Not what I thought I would be doing this morning but I like to go with the energy as it comes up whenever possible.  I like to make plans, to have an agenda, then be able to throw it all out the window on a moment’s notice.  It’s a thrill and some kind of control issue I think.  The other part of the thrill is being able to respect the moment.

I am in a different time zone, my own happy morning zone.  My bed feels amazing!  I never linger here but this morning it feels so good and right.  I sandwich myself between two fleece blankets and top with a beautiful blue, black, and white southwestern blanket I bought for yoga.  In this moment I am calm yet thrilled.  Is that what a good night’s sleep does for you, waking up feeling creative, having the day off?  And having an amazing bed and warmth.  I have been running my cool mist humidifier at night.  It makes a huge difference with the dry air from my forced air furnace on these cold fall nights.  I find it amazing how the human body works with the environment and vice versa.  Low moisture in the air means moisture is sucked from our bodies to compensate.  What does high moisture in the air do to our bodies?  Other than stifle us in the heat of summer?

I am a little hungry and thirsty and know my body doesn’t like to stay in bed too long.  My body usually likes to move and not sit on my butt.  I don’t know how people do that for 8 hours a day.  So bad for the body and mind.   My preference is to get 3 to 5 hours of exercise a day.

I really got a boost in serotonin from the rap videos.  I don’t particularly like rap but just seeing the small-time artists do their creative thang, made me happy and filled with joy, filled with my own creative energy.  I thought I had found a new venue in my town where the artists were performing, but it turned out to be in Santa Ana, California.  A little bit of a let down as it is thousands of miles away, but oh well, maybe I can visit there one day.  There is a new place in my town.  I guess they are both named, 4th Street.  Now I just have to find it.  Shouldn’t be hard with the address in the name!  : )  I am very excited about it.  I love novelty!!! This may be to my detriment some times.  You know, like Squirrel!

I would love to stay and hang out with you for longer but nature calls.  It’s time to let my bowels and body move!

Have a good one and thanks so much for listening.

Please leave a comment to let me know how what I wrote resonated with you.

I love getting to know you!

 

 

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Dark Mornings and Friendship

I’m eating apples and almond butter and thinking about my dreams.  Gretchen has been in my dreams the past few nights. Last night I was with Shannon as though we were a couple.  We heard Gretchen playing amazing music on her cello. Simply amazing. I think she was on the radio. I told Shannon, “That is Gretchen.”  We were sitting close to each other in our home. Then he went to the back door and there were children there. He knew them and let them in and told them to sit in his big chair.  He came to sit with me on the couch. There were four boys around 9 or 10  years old but they all fit in the chair. I asked him how he knew them but I don’t remember what he said. I talked to one boy but mostly felt awkward.  Then I noticed a tiny one over under the end table. A girl. I picked her up in my hand and sat her in the chair next to who I thought was her brother, the one I had been talking to. She was singing a Disney song. Doing a very beautiful job, a real diva.  Teeny tiny like Thumbelina or something. When one song ended, she launched into another. I said something about her to her brother and he told me she was actually a he. Then I  woke up to my cats going kamikaze on me in their attempt to get me up to feed them.

It’s hard to get up when it’s still dark outside, no matter how many hours I have slept.  I think I will find an app that brightens up slowly like the sun rising and has birds singing as the alarm.  I won’t be fooled, but maybe it will help make the transition easier.

It helped to think about my breakfast of apple and almond butter and dandelion root tea. Now it is light as I sit at my dining room table typing and looking out through my glass storm door.  Carley sits on the table in front of the windows looking out. We all think it is more interesting out there.

I spread my almond butter on one apple at a time and think about my day.  I always have so much I want to do. It would be better if I got up earlier but the darkness keeps me trapped in my bed where I’m surrounded by softness and warmth.   

This morning the sun didn’t rise until after 7:00.  As I finish this post, it is almost 9:00.  I will attend a 3 hour yoga workshop on shoulders this afternoon. I hope it is intriguing enough to hold my interest for that long.  Even though I practice and teach mindfulness I think I have a short attention span.  Well, it depends on what the activity is.  If it’s movement based I can hang with it for several hours.  Sometimes a good conversation will keep me engaged as well.  As for this morning, I will meditate, do some exercise, spend some time in nature, and if all the stars align, have time to clean a little before my workshop.

It seems I am alone a lot these days.  I tend to pick flaky friends who don’t want to do things very often or who back out of plans when we do make them.  I’m on the lookout for more friends. : ) I’m interested in people who actually want to get together regularly, to help each other out in addition to hanging out.  Sometimes I make friends who are new to town. They want to spend a lot of time together.  I show them around.  Then once they get settled, well, they are on to greener pastures and no longer have interest in getting together.  I think that really sucks.  It’s not cool.  Gretchen was one of those friends.  She pretty much completely ditched me.  Now another one, same thing.  But he still has room for me sometimes in his schedule.  I don’t want to be that person though.  I am learning how to set my own boundaries.  A thing I don’t understand naturally that well yet.  I have to remember to not try to reach out to those who no longer want to stay connected for whatever reason.  I would rather they give me an explanation though, like you smell bad, or you talk too much, too clingy….whatever.  Just so I know.  We are all so different.  It might be good for me.  I want to see how others see me. I am always open to growing and changing.  We don’t really know how other see us unless they tell us. The easy way out is just to vanish. The work is sticking it out.  Having hard conversations.  Being honest – if there is enough to the friendship, enough like for the other person.  I have been guilty of this myself.  Thinking, well that is just how they are and it doesn’t work for me. But that is black and white thinking and there is a whole lot of gray area that shouldn’t be overlooked.  We are all many things, not one static being.  And those difficult conversations can make all the difference.  I need to have a few of those myself before I make the decision to throw a few friendships out the window.

Namaste my friends.  On to meditation now.  I love you!  Please let me know your experience on the topic of flaky friends and tough conversations.

 

 

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We

His blood is my blood.

His flesh my own.

I created this being in my likeness.

Actually, he looks more like his dad.

Or he used to

when he was little.

The other one looks like me.

Two lives created.

I have always loved

the idea of Frankenstein’s monster.

Creating a human being.

I created two human beings.

I like to take all of the credit

but I know I needed my partner’s dna.

My body did the work

after he made the deposit.

Isn’t conception amazing?

Sperm penetrates egg, and if you’re lucky,

Boom!  There you have it!

Simply amazing!

From there the female body

grows another life.

His blood is my blood.

His flesh my own.

Over 6′ tall now he stands,

sitting on the couch

looking up at my

4’11” self.

He wipes his bloody mouth

on the red washcloth I gave him.

Missing 4 of his teeth.

And an extra one they found

on the x-rays.

We paid for this.

He made it through okay.

My baby.

His blood is my blood.

His flesh my own.

I wanted to hold onto the washcloth

when he left.

To keep it near to me.

A part of him near to me

as he has seemed so far away

this past year.

I’m not ready to let go

of that which I created.

Yet he is not mine to keep.

He is his own now.

I let go the first time when he

exited the birth canal.

From that point on

he began his journey of being separate

from me.

The cord severed and the journey began.

It’s hard for me to let go

of my flesh and blood.

I want to hold onto the red washcloth

the only part of him that stayed behind

when he returned to his father’s house,

where he feels he needs to be.

He says he’s not coming back.

And he hasn’t.

Not to stay anyway.

I played mother for a day.

He told me thank you and that

he was okay.  It felt good to be needed

if only for a day.

I grasped onto the chance to be the only

thing I  had known for so long.

His blood is my blood.

His flesh my own.

He is moving out into the world

on his own.

That is the nature of boys

to men.

A woman in his life

helps that transition along.

I am happy he has love.

A love that replaced mine

in his eyes.

In his heart.

A feeling of being torn apart.

I imagine he feels it too,

in his own way.

We want to raise them to be

independent.

Then we cry

when the nest is empty.

I cry anyway.

His blood is my blood.

His flesh my own.

I guess I have done my job.

Copyright Suzanne Norton 2018

 

 

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Good Morning

Good morning!  I wanted to tell you about my dreams.  I dreamed that I was going to compost.  My friends, who owned the property, had a nice bag of fully composted lovely brown soil.  I, on the other hand, had a big bag of dryer lint.  I had put my lint out previously in the compost area and it had been baled there on their property.  The couple’s bales were that nice fine soil I believe.  I’m not sure how you bale soil but I don’t think it was straw.  While mine were totally dryer lint baled like hay bales.  I felt a little inferior.  They just seemed to find it interesting.  In real time life I am ecstatic over being able to have my own compost area soon at my new house.  I will also have an area for kitty litter as I hate sending it to the landfill.  Hoping to find the right biodegradable litter for my kitties.  I have been using pine pellets that turn to sawdust but they don’t like to poo in it.  So they just won’t go very often which I am concerned about.  Back to the dreams.  So in another dream, one of my students was reciting his poetry to me and talking about how he did Tai Chi in the meadow every morning and how lovely it was.  Next door to where we were, which was my house was, a group of young black males were hanging out, being loud.  It made me a little uncomfortable.  I realized one guy lived there and I thought, well I will just have to get used to the congregating and noise next door.  I was checking myself to make sure my discomfort wasn’t race related.  I think it was more just wanting to know these were cool dudes.  I said hi to the guy who lived there as I was in my side yard and they had been in the front between our two houses.  I don’t think he heard me as he didn’t respond.  There is another dream trying to come through right now.  It might have to do with one of my clients but it’s not real clear. Pausing for a bathroom break now. I’m back but will end it there.  I want to write some poetry now.  Arrivederci.

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His Eyes

Mirrors of blue

His eyes like mine

One of many ~

a long family line

Color of the ocean

color of the sky

The earth from afar

A distant time

So close, yet so far away

I’m told,

Don’t worry,

he will come back one day

Suzanne Norton 2018

 

 

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A New Season

Thick skin

No sin

Not taking any more BS

I wanted to be nice

How’s that working for you

Doormats

need to be replaced

Replaced by rage

Stripped

of the cage

A foot put down

or two

Don’t believe everything you read

Emotions motivate

Power to

activate

Not able to

see straight

But maybe

that’s okay

I need my space

It’s lonely in here

When no one is near

Jewelry and clothes

With no where to go

They come and go

Can I see what is present

Or only the

empty space

waiting to be filled

Get a grip

Check out what’s real

We are all on our devices

Connecting in this virtual world

Time to move on

Time to be heard

Suzanne Norton 2018

 

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Good Old Days

Pissed

Bitch

Sad

Ticked

Who will read this

Be warned

Lonely

Bored

What happened to puppy dogs,

butterflies,

remember

those days

of happy words

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Home Again (unedited)

I’m in that place again.  It feels so amazing.  I woke from a full 8 hrs of sleep to a beautiful summer morning.  It has been so hot lately I have felt drained, feeling trapped in my home with windows and doors closed and air on most of the time.  It has been dangerously hot.

This morning I am able to open the windows, hear the birds, feel the breeze.  I feel the way I used to writing on my pallet in front of the open window of my second floor apartment.  I feel that feeling in my chest, what’s it called? Love?  I think that’s it.

That feeling of connecting with nature, of not feeling lonely, of writing.  There is sadness underneath but it is not all encompassing.  The breeze makes me cry for the love she brings.  Feelings of another season, early fall perhaps.  Or another season in my life.  With that thought the tears come.  They have been locked up for awhile and I have been awaiting their return.

I want the simple life but then try to create more more more things to do.  I move forward then back up.  I send texts to connect then back away.   Move forward then back away.  I want a family again.  Mother and father gone.  Sister and brother living hours away.  Sons in the same city but wanting their space.  Me the one to reach out.  A role I have placed myself in.  What would happen if I stepped back?  Would others move forward?  Is he really out there seeking me?  Where are the classy people?  Do I need to move further than a few blocks away. Hours away perhaps.

I realize I have expectations.  For good or bad.  Mostly I think expectations are not good.  My friend said, “Have no expectations.”

My dreams had me responsible for babysitting a previous pre-school student of mine.  Duncan.  I was in contact with his mother by phone.  But I was elsewhere, not home watching him.  I thought maybe Shannon was there with him but felt guilty that I was not there.  When I arrived home, worried he was home alone, I was greeted by a teenager.  He did not need a baby sitter after all.  He was pleasant and I really liked him.

In another dream the contents of a storage unit we had in our apartment had been emptied and all of our items where in a large space inside the complex.  The management had moved our belongings out to make space for the new people moving in.  Although they were moving in next door and not into our space.  There were two teenage boys and a mom.  Sounds familiar.  They came over to the space where my belongings were and I told them what had happened.  The mother did not come over.  I saw  her when I looked out of my front windows.  She was in her yard next door.  She had a nice front lawn that I was a bit jealous of.  I think with a fenced yard.  I had a closed-in front porch that was a little old.   My cats or maybe I had two dogs, had been in her fenced in yard but they got out and I was trying to catch them.  The boys were very nice.  I liked them.  The mother seemed a little stressed and not that happy.  I was kind of excited to have them move in although I was supposed to be moving out soon.  My mom was in the picture at some point.  I’m not sure if she lived with me or was visiting.

I woke up still connected to my dreams.   A good night’s sleep makes all of the difference.  I am so bothered by the fact my eldest son does not get good sleep.  I wonder if he tried all of the things he knows to do and got into a regular routine with good sleep hygiene if that would make a world of difference for him.  It’s so hard being a mother when they no longer what you to be in that role.  Maybe that is the nature of that ever-changing role.  I still want to be a mother.  But I guess that means something different these days.  I’m trying to figure out what that is.  My heart is hurting.  I’m having flashbacks to when they were young.  I had a role.  I didn’t need to wonder about a career and if I was where I needed to be.  I didn’t question it.  Some days I loved it other days it was extremely challenging.  I can’t rewrite it.  Or maybe I could, if I wanted to.

If I could rewrite my past I would remove the pain that dwelled in my husband so he wouldn’t have turned angry as the years went on.  I would have given myself the courage and self esteem to take care of me more.  I would have talked to him about the necessity of getting help instead of trying to change him to fit my mold.  I would have sought for collaboration in parenting instead of thinking I knew what was right or best and trying to have all of the control.

But there was so much love, and still is.  At least I have it for them.  Can I sit back for awhile? Reprogram things so others come to me?  Instead of me feeling like I always need to move towards?  How to live in this world.  What if I could do anything I wanted?  If money were no issue?  I think I can.   But what is it?  I’m hungry.  Is this it?  Am I here, right now, doing what I want?  Yes.

Sometimes, most of the time, I have a strong desire, need, to help others.  Sometimes I need to just focus on myself.  Then I feel a little guilty.  Like I should be contributing in some way.  Like taking care of me is not contributing to the larger good.  Although I know this is not true.  It is contributing to the larger good.  And that makes me feel good.

I often see things in black and white.  Either I spend time on myself or time helping others.  People are good or bad.  Etc.  Case in point, I was trying to make a new friend, he has so many great qualities but did a few things that were dishonest or deceiving so I texted him I didn’t think a friendship would work out as I needed honest people in my life.  Black and white thinking maybe.  Or maybe just my maturation in discernment as to who is best to have in my life, especially when it comes to men.

It is best to end now so I can move onto my meditation, breakfast, exercise, a nature hike, then work on my business.  I keep thinking about hiring a psychic to see if I am on the right track in my life, but I haven’t found the right one yet.  It’s important I feel the person is legit as most charge a lot of money.

I love you!  Bye bye.

Suzanne Norton

 

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