Thoughts this morning, immediate, urgent:

livelihoods and money
kevin (or parzival… or whatever he goes by these days…)
worry, about providing, but even more so about life direction
that I’m cold, and need to put on a better housecoat (brb)

hot coffee…

My pink housecoat. I think it was originally peach, or apricot. It needs to be washed, smells of oils, body oils from my skin as well as oils from successions of neck rubs: almond, arnica.

The neck, where I hold my stress. Don’t we all hold it there? I’ve learnt, as I go along, to stretch, to rotate my shoulders and neck when I feel I’m getting stiffened up. Which is often.

What is a calling? What is a career? Is there a difference?

Last night I went to bed with two questions in mind:

What is my dream?
What would my perfect life look like?

The suspension of reality is required here, oh yeah, huuuuuuuge suspension, because if I can’t even allow myself to dream with abandon, how the hell can I begin to formulate a reply to these two questions?

Another question:

When did I stop dreaming?

And another:

What would it feel like to be someone who dreams?

Something comes back to me. My mother’s words:

“Get your head out of the clouds.”

“Stop wandering the ether.”

“Be realistic.”

The struggle, this eternal internal tug-of-war, continues to be at the forefront of every issue in my life.


If I had some mastery over my urges, when my childish self decides to buck the “realistic” part and says “fuck it, I want ______ now” it is a perfect example of self-sabotage, whereas the other part that is rational and level headed gets too full of itself and carried away with control, and squeezes the life right out of everything.

Herein lies the dance… crazy making.

And blogging…

I’ve been blogging for ages now, on all different kinds of personal things: sharing art, wordsmithing, foibles and inner discussions that perhaps would be best left unshared, and yet…. perhaps it resonates with some?

So what is the purpose of a blog? There is such a huge trend for it to be a source of Resource… where people go to get educated on technique, inspired. Do they really want my dirty laundry, somewhat sanitized? Probably not, but I write about it anyway.

So… when does one become a completely balanced and evolved individual?

Is the struggle an eternal one? I’ll be 50 in January and still feel as clueless as I did in my late teens, but so much less hopeful about the future. I’m IN the future, and it ain’t pretty folks.

Did I think I’d still be struggling financially at this stage in life? No.

Did I think I’d still be wondering whether I’d found a perfect way to support myself? No.

I realize that there are no guarantees in life, and the choices we make pave the road to where we find ourselves, presently. But it isn’t only the present that is affected, it is the whole.

So when I said, when I was sixteen, that I wanted to be a hairdresser or an esthetician and my mom told me it was a bad idea because I’d spend the whole day on my feet, should I have allowed myself to be talked out of doing it anyway?

So when I was asking my parents for permission to apply to one of the art programs at Parson’s College in New York City and they said “no”, should I have found a way to do it anyway?

Where would I have gotten the necessary tools -inner tools- to do such a thing? Because, truly, I lacked moxie, and I probably still fall short even now. Not probably – I know I do. I still lack the piss ‘n vinegar required to DARE FEARLESSLY.

Another thought:

What is it that I (capital I, bold) have to offer to the world that is unique?

[I have not yet come up with an answer to that....]

Some people just learn to work the system better. I didn’t even know that there was a system to work.


If I made a vision board, what would it look like?

Damn… I don’t think I’ve felt a forest this thick in a long while.

How do people live? How do people who barely make a living wage pay their rent?

I’ve been truly fortunate over the years that I’ve worked as an administrative assistant, legal or otherwise. The jobs were always steady and decently paid. I wonder what it is about an older staff that somehow seems to be less appealing to employers (or those hiring). The job market is not what it used to be. Neither is the job.

Should I have evolved out of the position that I’m in by now? Is that it? Does it show a lack of ambition? Interest?

Secretaries (pardon the old term) used to be respected.

Secretaries used to have a symbiotic relationship with those they were direct reports to. There was a sense of mutual loyalty.

Now…. it’s just a very weird combination of Girl Friday and [pausing a moment to google the internet for the proper term of the character in Cloud Atlas] a fabricant.

Making a mental list of qualities/the things I do well:

make stuff
excellent spatial sense
patient (with others)

So… that’s something to work with. What now?

That’s another question… for another day.