Walktober (4)

I am writing this morning, early. No, not early, 7:30 but it is dark and cloudy with wet from rain on the pavement, and it feels cave dark early. I have had one swallow of tea. The post then, might make more or less sense. That is the way it is.

This image has a WHOOOOOOOOOOLE lot more light than there is right now, but sort of resembles my hair’s current state. The bushy part and the bent parts, not yet the grey.


The day before yesterday I went to a talk at the Thomas Taber Museum.

“…Sieminski will relate the fascinating lives of Williamsport native Myrtle Miller Anderson and her photographer husband John Alvin Anderson. For forty years, the Andersons lived on the Rosebud Reservation in South Dakota. A fascinating photographic archives developed which included portraits of Native Americans and life on the reservation, some photographs of which are now housed in the collections of the Library of Congress….”
Thomas Taber Museum Website

I both enjoyed it, for the opportunity to think and to engage and was incensed by parts of it. The incensed parts had not much at all to do with the presenter herself and more to do with the disrespect perpetuated as truth and fact unknowingly. I tend to Wrangle with that incensed part in relation to the topic and with myself that I have yet to find balance or the most right thing to do. I used the experience to look at how elders share history. I used the experience to notice how those that are called historians and those that call themselves historians, might not be. I continue to recall one elder laughing at me in my on the floor at feet search for the truest truth. Maybe I am also incensed with myself for not having worked out how to find or how to let go of a truest truth?

Maybe no matter my wishes sometimes things are just blurry.


Sometimes we don’t know if they are poison or a cure and answer to the…cold.


Yesterday, I found out that there might be a way to get neurology and psychiatric care for the (adult)kiddos. It’s two hours away, however if it is good and appropriate care, perhaps God will make a way. I went to pick up one of them for Fall Break from college. I got news that was distressing, though not entirely unexpected–I detached from it a bit and got a small bit of praise from the disability services coordinator. He finally stated clearly that he cannot really recall having a student as unable to do such things before and that it had been difficult for him not to see it as lack of caring. He stated that he knows differently now, but doesn’t know what to do to help him, as he can’t attend or focus long enough to find out. He then took a breath and asked my permission to be a little personal. The inner attack me committee steeled itself to rip me to pieces. And, he stated that he felt that I felt that everyone on the outside felt that my son and daughter(who attended the same college) were the way they were because I am a bad parent. That school people viewed their actions as bad behaviors that with the right will could be corrected. And that I had failed. He then stated that in case no one had told me–No other parent would drive once a week to college to attempt to help a disabled student navigate these issues so that they could express the amazing people that they are. He said that he found it amazing how I manage to keep my composure and to calmly state and restate matters if/when others didn’t understand. He said that if no one else tells me, he thinks I am a good Mom. And, that I might need to try to find a way in all that doesn’t look like it is going well, to try to remind myself of that fact. I didn’t know that I appeared as if I had not lost my composure. Yes, that is what I focused upon, the rest was out of my pay grade to process as I sat in the chair.

More about falling short and enoughness, even within truly falling short. That is a very difficult concept for me to master–anything less than mastery isn’t enough for me. Hm.


I also took out the Patchouli, moved the sickly looking Thyme inside–in case what I have seen is dormancy, and took care of a few other outdoor chores. I returned a huge stack of library items. The librarians’ response: “Oh myyyyy, how do you manage all of that it’s only been a few weeks. You must eat and grow on information!”

PSST! Unsure of how Robin wishes the links to the Walktober Project so,

Walktober (2)

I had all sorts of creative expressions and ideas this morning. I felt productive all day. Until, I spent the last two hours being told that neurology won’t treat my daughter anymore and to go to psychiatry, who won’t treat her due to the nuerology. Psychotic? Jail? No worries NO ONE will treat her yay NOT. TWO HOURS hopeless and despair, people getting huge salaries to not treat anyone. All of this was before I added in the type of insurance we have and the carveout to stoneaged incompetents even if we could be seen.

What does this mean? It means I am resentful that another of my days is consumed with crap. It means that it comes first even after the beautiful day and productive morning. So, let me see. My inner honest/snark, as snark it is often called when a person isn’t pretty but honest instead, thinks that another part of Walktober is not to share only coping skills, only honest moments of joy, but the entire package. To share what is real every day as I walk through my day.

I told me to go on and to cook supper while I cannot calm the inner shaking quivering tempest. I did. I made the buttermilk fried chicken and then, I thought it best to take a few more moments, thaw some fish and do those too ahead for another day. The dishes are done thrice and the rice is ready.

Here. have a picture from yesterday’s real walk (yes we are still stuck on the word ‘real’) at the Tree Place yesterday after my first post.


It is just a weed, but gosh it is perfect and it is beautiful and it takes my breath away to see it and to wonder about all its parts and its order in the universe and how each part that is beauty to me is mere service to it and to the things in the habitat near to it.

I walked through my morning readings, I got my meds and breathing treatment in and a first cup of tea. I smudged and used my candle. The morning went smoothly. The inner upset were waiting for the bad bits or to be startled into fight or flight mode. They were able to attend the readings. I think that I will make a bookmark that has a note to myself. Your treatments make you shake like using a jackhammer you are not anxious there is nothing to fix. I had a shower. I did my lower back and shoulder exercises and did some for my legs. I went to the tree place and was able to happily complete a very tiny bit of energy work. I have had a resentment about not doing that the way I like too. I keep telling me that I can’t do it when I am so angry and afraid. (this is partly a lie) I keep telling me to shut up and keep it simple breathe and admire…which will lead to grounding. I was able to get there for a short while, before the fix it police decided I was calm enough to tackle phone calls to psychiatry places. HA!

Here have another image, I need one anyway!


I didn’t eat a bag of snacks today. I initiated and followed through to the best of my known ability on actions that I view as horrid. The house is calm and I am eating my own dinner. I have a window to read some of the excellent inter-library loan materials that came for me yesterday. I am going to revert to another thing that I used to have to use to help myself. Dear E, you have done everything that you could today to be healthy, to take care of the body and the mind and the spirit. You have taken one thing at a time. It is now time to stop for the day. All offices and businesses are closed and thus, your shift is over. Think of something balanced and healthy that you enjoy and go do that for at least 20 minutes. Love The GC


Look at all of those tiny things that make up a whole (thing, day, fill in the blank)

PSST! Unsure of how Robin wishes the links to the Walktober Project so,

Walktober (1)


I read Robin’s post entitled Walktober dates on her blog Breezes At Dawn.

I was and am still feeling disturbed and out of sorts emotionally, mentally, and physically from one of the children’s current bouts with mental and neurological differences. I thought and felt angst at missing walks and being able to have calm and peace and to attend to the little things that I love so much. I thought that I can do a Walktober, and then proceeded to make to much to large to handle with present situations. I ripped me to bits about how my walk around the back yard is NOT a walk. YES IT IS!!! #@#*^@$! I decided to take my idea of what is good enough to consider a walk and create what is more real. I made it really simple. If my feet move, it is a walk. If I can only walk 10 feet outside and sit down and notice for as long as I can, it’s a walk. My mind is still shouting, “NO, It is NOT!”

IMG06361 play bw

That mind is contributing to my feeling of lack of enjoyment in the life I have been dealt and is creating misery at the loss of the things that I love, rather than allowing my creative enthusiastic parts to do their thing and be really and truly glad for everything that is a ‘can do’.

The snarky part questioned, “Who will want to see images of the same small spot?”
The realistic part answered, “We write this blog only for us and not so many people view it and we don’t so much care, so stop it and just let us have a good time and a wee bit of that ‘challenge’ that Robin tends to do, so that she might smirk at the humor that I might need to do it to get me through a day.”


Dear Robin, I do not really think that you will smirk, though it is very very funny that I wonder if a small and attainable string of goals that are easy to achieve might be helpful! 😛 Love, E.

I went right out intending to do the walk that the snarky bit called a walk, however I had to get equipment for my breathing machine instead. I did have to walk back through the property. It is an old farm property, that now has businesses in all of the buildings. I actually know the family that owned and grew up on the farm. The following images are what I saw. I have also walked around Wegman’s Parking lot (it’s huge) 4 times on two other days, with no pictures taken and I spent an afternoon trekking across a college campus trying to help my other child navigate some snags. I have also noticed myself pacing the house and walking up and down the stairs while I am busy or waiting, or fretting. If my point is activity, then activity is also increased. I am pleased to report that a feeling of restlessness when I have been still is starting to occur. I am also annoyed by it, it’s an ungrounded anxious feeling. I am talking to that ickier feeling and telling it that a walk and then a moment of grounding is nice. Maybe a fix it or not. I shall have to wait and see.

IMG06369 play bw

One Day At A Time, One Moment At A Time

You know? (long pause)

Life feels pretty darn unmanageable. (someone in my head says–you are sober ya goober, try a little thanks)

Oh YES! I am really glad for that and wow, what I am perceiving as life on life’s terms just now would, well I don’t even think there is a word for how much worse it would be, if I were not sober. Thanks God for helping out with that, and thanks for tolerating me kvetching at you, sometimes when you carry me I just can’t see what has been moved out of the way and only the things I view as insurmountable. I try, that bit is a work in progress, still.

Well, this morning the body and the house feel just so out of control. Oh look, that control word. There are all kinds of control and plenty of better words and tools to use so that I can see what I can change, things I can do and so on. I just still grab the word control, the world seems to demand a person has control or a false sense of control. shrugs

I decided to make a list of accomplishments, helps me to see past the spin and overload to help me to notice what I am doing and to provide a solid point of focus. The list is already rather annoying me, damn, I do a ton of little things all at once–efficiency is good, tracking it looks…the way it does 🙂

I got out to the Tree Place yesterday. I haven’t been well so my body is so weak that I can get dizzy just going up or down the stairs once. It is too difficult to attempt to shower and to dress and to go down and then out to the car and so on. Yesterday was bright and sunny, and refreshingly cold. I just went out in the state I was in and drove. I weebled out of the car about 100 feet to the tree. It was worth it. I leaned on it for a bit to rest and I thought I might need help back to the car but…I WON! I realized that going out is life for me and that to remember that being perfect and doing the whole walk and the rituals with it and the prayers is too much for my ability right now. I remember years ago when my brain was not allowing me to walk or talk and muscle control was FUBAR. A simple shift of transferring the anger and sadness at not being able, to the same joy at making it outside the front door to lean on the house and to close my eyes and breathe the air and glory in the sun on my face was amazing!

Today, every step, every motion, is one thing accomplished, one thing that says I AM. One gift from my Creator to see that which is presented to me on a daily basis that falls under, yes, I can do. The song, for now, is probably thinking too large for me, One Day At A Time is more like eating the whole elephant. One bite at a time, one nibble at a time works!

Morning Trip (64)

“Emotions drive the threesome of attention, meaning, and memory.” In essence, that just about sums up what we know about learning: attending to information, constructing meaning, and lodging it in our memory. Brain researchers have shown that emotions are critical to patterning, which is the way that information is organized in the brain, how we are able to retrieve that information. Emotions assist in both evaluating and integrating information and experiences.
However, as we know, not all emotions facilitate learning. Stress, frustration, anger, fear – all can overwhelm the brain with hormones and thought patterns that totally shut down one’s ability to learn. When major emotional flooding occurs it is true that one literally cannot think straight.”
– Eric Jensen
Teaching with the Brain in Mind

“I can remember the frustration of not being able to talk. I knew what I wanted to say, but I could not get the words out, so I would just scream.”
– Temple Grandin

“Generalised [sic] anger and frustration is something that gets you in the studio, and gets you to work – though it’s not necessarily evident in anything that’s finished”.
– Bruce Nauman

“Rips out hairs!”
– Elisa

Morning Trip (60)

“I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind’s door at 4 a.m. of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends.”
— Joan Didion (Slouching Towards Bethlehem: Essays)

Do you follow the crowd? or, Do you Know what Really Matters?

CARE OF THE SOUL: Teaching What Matters

Thomas Moore

“When I was in graduate school, I was fascinated by a play by Eugene Ionesco called The Lesson. In it a young woman studies for the total doctorate, but she has a problem. She can add perfectly but can’t subtract. The teacher gets so upset by her failure to learn that eventually, he attacks her with a knife.

In school we learn how to add. We learn more and more facts, study more subjects, and acquire more diplomas and degrees. We learn enough to become a success at work and add more money to our bank accounts. But like the woman in the play, we are not good at subtraction. We don’t learn how to live with one person in a marriage or how to lose our freedom as we bring up our children. We don’t learn how to deal with jealousy and envy, emotions that afflict us when we don’t have what we want. We don’t learn how to deal with failures and setbacks and losses. We don’t learn what to do when our health is in the minus column. We don’t learn about the ultimate subtraction-death.

There are many aspects of ordinary life that apparently we believe we can accomplish naturally, unconsciously. It’s interesting that these things-marriage, illness, child-raising, depression, mortality-are fairly major concerns. Then why are these important items missing from the school curriculum? All signs indicate that we are not doing well in these areas, and yet major writers and artists have written about them, dramatized them, reflected on them, and written a vast quantity of music about them. There is much to study and to learn.

Maybe the problem is that we think of education as the dispensing of commodities, rather than ideas and values and elements of character. We want to train our children to get good jobs and make enough money to be comfortable. We want them to develop useful skills, not skills that will humanize them and turn them into cultured persons. We don’t see education as having to do with whether their marriages hold, their children grow up happy, or their spiritual and emotional potentialities find fulfillment. We have lost sight of the total doctorate.

Counseling psychologists know a lot about relationships and emotions, and hospice workers could give good lessons in dying and caring for the dying. There are many books on work, creativity, and vocation. But we leave all of this important material to chance or to workshops outside established educational structures. I would like to see children start learning, from the earliest grades, how to deal with strong emotions, how to make good relationships, and how to navigate sickness and change.

There’s no room in the curriculum, they will say. Yet I’m sure there are ways to make room. We could teach more intensely. We could offer more hands-on, in situ experience. Children could learn through apprenticeship. We could have less repetition and therefore more room for the education of the heart.

For example, I often write about mythology in my books. Schooled in the writings of C.G. Jung, Joseph Campbell, and James Hillman, I find mythology to be a rich source of insight into human experience. When I lecture about it, people often tell me wistfully that they studied mythology in school but never thought it was relevant to their lives. I’d call that a missed opportunity.

The same could be said of studies in literature, art history, and even math. You just have to probe beneath the surface to find personal meaning in anything that you study. Without proselytizing or forcing their view and values, teachers could help students explore the basic issues of meaning and emotion in any subject. Students could deepen their vision and their relationship with the human community.

In Ionesco’s play, the professor’s knife symbolizes the aggression that often emerges when we teach children. Maybe that aggression has a negative effect because it comes out of a vacuum of values, an educational environment where deep, human learning has no place. In a more visionary setting, this natural aggression could turn into a vigorous style of study and exploration that would be worth the hours spent and calling followed. Maybe if we taught the things that really matter, if we aimed at the total doctorate, we parents and teachers would be passionate in our love of the subject and love of our children.”

Article from

(the above images are direct links, please click upon them if you would like! I did not have the skills base available to size one of them to fit the window.)