Searching for Happiness pt 1
Everyone wants to be happy. Sort of. It’s complicated, right? I mean, we all think we want to be happy ... until we sabotage the happiness, that is. Probably because we’re either A. shortsighted or B. undecided about how to define happiness for ourselves.
Taking a cue from a Harvard Grant study, which followed 268 male undergraduates for 75 years, collecting data along the away. The study found that the two pillars of happiness are love and “finding a way of coping with life that does not push love away,” according to director George Vaillant.
Vaillant is an interesting study himself as well. Ambitious. Married 4 times at last count. Complicated. Thinker. Respectful. Disrespectful. A contradiction. A manipulator. A hurt boy. A student and expert in psychiatry and psychology.
I could go on. For a while there I felt like I may have been describing myself. Isn’t that what happens to us when we get older and live through more experiences though? I mean... if we’re lucky. I’m not manipulative, however. Not smart enough. And I’m obviously not a hurt boy. But we all do have that kid inside us - some of those kids more traumatized than others. His was pretty traumatized. And I would never want to trivialize the subject.
The interesting thing about the study result is that second part: “finding a way of coping with life that does not push love away.” A friend of mine said “coping” made it sound like work, like it wasn’t really a very happy thing.
Granted the economy of words is typical of the field of research reporting. Taking that with a grain of salt and expanding on it by unpacking what that really means is where the heart of it is, however.
If we were to take a barebones definition of the word ‘cope’, we would sense the emotionless word to convey to us that it is to manage, to survive. Add that to a sentence regarding the concept of ‘love’ and it seems, well, lacking. Reposition the definition slightly to have it mean, ‘to have the capacity to deal successfully with’, and the whole feeling of the word to ‘cope’ changes. Words become ideas: to have the capacity; successfully. These are concepts we can get closer to emotionally. They create desire. Sounds way better than mere survival and management. Who wants to merely manage love?
If I were to unpack the idea of coping a tad further, making it really a personal interpretation, I would say it is exactly the right word to use in the report. After all, this is indeed what we do. Every day. We find ways to cope. Imagine a sliding dynamic multidimensional scale. On some ends, life is easy. On some ends life is difficult. The difficult end is going to be the more interesting end. An array of challenges get thrown at us - even if we were to gear this diagram only to focus on the subject of love. For some, challenge number one could just accepting that they are lovable. For others, it could be balancing personal ambitions with holding onto and protecting the love they found. For others, it could be that they haven’t really even unpacked the word love for themselves yet in the first place. And yet for most, maybe, it is how to get over power struggles in an interpersonal relationship.
Zombieland and art
I really feel like going to sleep. This is awesome because the past few days I have been super antsy. Today I actually felt hunger also. It was odd. Usually I get cranky or munchy - but today it was actual hunger. I probably ate too much as a result. Yesterday I definitely ate too much after my ride because I just lay on the bed and went into a deep deep coma after breakfast. I woke myself up snoring twice.
I never realized just how much food I cook and put on everyone’s plate. Everyone else seemed fine, however. My body must have just been freaking out since I had been on a steady diet of Gu, Rocktane and Clif bars.
I fell hard too. Pitch black and there was no waking me. Pure zombieland. It felt like some scanner washed over me and in my mind I vanished. I know I dreamed and bounced around in the netherworld, but can only remember glimpses.
This was maybe the second or third time this has happened to me this summer.
I had a week where I was waking up at 3:45am to sub bootcamp. That was really difficult. I’ll be doing that again for a few days in a couple of weeks. Buckledown days.
This month I was looking at some of my statistics too. I went from 51.2 miles (5 hours 29minutes and 852 feet in elevation gain) in May to 437.7 miles (38 hours 3 minutes and 22,991feet in elevation gain) in June. Quite a jump. And that includes both running and cycling. No wonder my metabolism sped up and I was having zombie days. All in all, however, I feel great. I’m still teaching and doing yoga too on top of it. I think that’s why my muscles aren’t really that bad off. Next month I want to focus on some more long rides and still get in hills. I also want to pick up my running and swimming miles. Running is great doggie and me time too. So I like that.
Over the weekend Sammy got in a lot of outside playtime. He met two dogs, Star and August. August only had 3 legs, but he loved to run and play. They all played a lot which made me happy since when I’m at the office, Sammy’s stuck inside. Star was a little feisty girl dog that weighs probably 48 pounds, however. She’d often growl and snap at Sammy and steal his toy. Did I mention Sammy is a 60 pound pit bull. So ferocious. You know what he’d do when she’d steal his toy? Nothing. She’d snap and growl and then when he’d trot off, she’d follow him tail wagging.
Females are a mystery.
Did I just say that?
Anyway, it was fine until Star really snapped and Sammy while I was typing away in “the zone” at the kitchen table. I yelped. It scared the shit out of me. That’s when one of the humans pretty much told Star to get out. Still, I liked her and all of them and it.
Wrapping this up - but still have to mention how lucky we were to meet such amazing people at the farm we stayed at. They were artists and hippies and there was another guy there named Sky (my son is named Sky). Neither Sky had ever met another guy named Sky. It was pretty cool.
Oh and if you want to check out some of the art- you can find it online and in galleries. Enjoy :)
( reprint from https://etherealbeings.wordpress.com/2015/06/30/zombieland-and-art/ )
Dixie n Earl
Dixie and Earl.
Cupcake versus Buttercup. Part one. Buttercup always wins. Wait, no. Backtrack that. Buttercup always wants to win. Together they are the ‘Adventures of Buttercake’!
Okay, time to write.
What to write....
I don’t know what to write today, although I guess I feel that way every day. My head is focused on making my list for the weekend: Bread, peanut butter, jelly, instant starbucks, drinks, water, veggies.... And what to pack: Climbing gear, swim suit, gym shoes, dog food, and on and on. Excited and nervous about the weekend of course there never seems like there is enough time to do anything and so time is running out for me right now. I want to get this done though and so I will pluck away until it’s done. Just like if I’m on a run and am just plodding away. I used to put my head phones on and dance around in the street just to entertain myself. I am certain I looked like a royal fool. It did keep me going though and that is what matters. Now I don’t need to go to such measures, I just run. Strangely enough, it feels great. Odd, I know.
This weekend we will be up in one of my favorite locals and were lucky enough to get a farm to stay in which is 22 miles outside of the lake. Perfect riding area and my son is a rock climber so after my ride when they wake up, we hit the rocks. Hopefully there is wifi ... otherwise the following two posts will be after we return. (I know, you will be just sitting on the edge of your seat waiting!)
Devil’s lake is just outside Baraboo, Wisconsin and it is a hilly, tree lined area with nice Quartzite cliffs that are a climber’s delight. Speaking of delight, there is also a crazy two or three mile piece of road called Devil’s Delight that ends in a wall called Solum.
Because I have crazy friends, when I road out that way they made sure I would not miss such a wonderful little roll up the 10% grade 500 foot climb. Thank you, friends. What would I do without you. The whole time the guy I was riding with kept saying, “Who are these people you know?!?” As if they were nuts or something.
All in all the ride was very fun as I got to hit 45 mph going downhill and I ate weird Clif foods like sweet potato and beet and mango baby food lookin stuff. What’s particularly sweet is I got to drive home while my riding buddy snored away merrily which kept me bright eyed the whole time (I can’t sleep when someone is snoring so it worked out). Plus I got to get a snap of him with his mouth hanging open which helped me stay entertained. Whatever you do, be sure it keeps you entertained.
So here we go again. And it is a good thing because I have been carbing up the past few days in preparation (read: I’ve been eating a lot of pizza and drinking a lot of beer - all of which.... were awesome!).
reprinted from : https://etherealbeings.wordpress.com/2015/06/26/packin-unpackin/
Quick brick and quick write before heading off to work.
Sammy did the whole feign aggressiveness again while on leash while on the way home from our run. I wish he would cut that out. It only bothers me to the point that people get afraid when I know how cool he is actually. Back to the dog trainer. This is going to lead me to say that sometimes people need people trainers as well. I question the things we teach each other sometimes. But hey, it takes all types to make the world go ‘round. So live and let live.
I find that I’m so independent I’m drawn to strong willed people. Somewhere down the road sometimes I see that it’s not so much strength as it is ego. Then of course I question my own. I put myself in check. Comes with age and experience I suppose.
Have you ever read the Janell Cannon’s children’s picture book, Verdi? It was one of my favorites - I used to read it to the kids along with her other books, but Verdi I could relate to and always softly made me laugh at myself and to myself in my heart. It’s a story about a whippersnapper adolescent python who loved to leap and bound and dive into the mud. He would always look at the long, heavy older pythons and say, “Hey! Why are you wasting your time just laying around? There’s so much life to live!” And, in turn, they would look at him and think, “You’re going to poke an eye out, kid!” He would scoff.
You can guess how the story goes, but I will let you seek out this story and peruse it as looking at the illustrations alone make it worth seeking out.
All her books are like that. Find them.
So the question to ego is, is it worth it? Is it worth it to lose relationships? Is it worth it to put yourself in the line of fire? Is it worth it to be uncompromising or always defending?
Some people defend even when they don’t have to. And some cannot take what they dish out. Not at all. They are unable to cooperate. And, yet, they don’t want to be left alone even if they say they do or are okay with it. It’s just not true. Not really.
Here’s the thing - I would never really call anyone crazy, not for real. I’m sure there are plenty of people that call me crazy for the things I do and the ways I do them - ways in which only another aquarian could understand... if I believed in that sort of thing, that is.
Crazy people, people that sacrifice all and rack up the awards need the validation. And, it’s important. You can physically show people your award and say, hey, I’ve done this and here is the evidence. They build credibility this way and either they become stronger for it or, if it is a collaborative project, others (friends, partners, the little league, society, etc.) become stronger for it. This is progress. There are many crazy people we must thank for our progress - flip side is, there are a lot of crazy people that progressed in the wrong direction as well. Ego feels good, check.
Sometimes, often times, there is collateral damage. Is it worth it? An internal battlefield can occur in intense situations. Everyone (read: alphas) will think their right. So I want to soften. Follow the way of the water and not the rock.
It’s really a philosophical question and the answer will change with each endeavor, sometimes within moments while the endeavor is in process. So no need for an answer now. And we have to be able to sit with that. Store that away, but make sure it is there when we need it.
This sort of thing is isolating, as well. So, dear reader, pick and choose what you want to be crazy over well.
If I were to put my crazy into something deliberately, I’d say I’d want to make people happy and feel good. Honestly, I’m not so sure I am doing a very good job at that right now. Time to re-evaluate. How to balance personal goals, team goals and be cheery all at the same time. Never been my strong suit I guess so I am constantly honing and withdrawing and trying again.
Verdi, the little spry yellow snake, one day finds himself growing green. Much to his dismay he tries to cover it in mud which flakes off and he tries to scrub it off with leaves which of course doesn’t work. He finds himself resting lazily and heavily in the sun one day when he spies a few babes coming through whipping themselves about in the trees. He musters up the energy to show them a cool trick they may like flinging himself up into the air proving also to his own self he still can and does so with joy.
“Leaping and looping with his little striped friends, verdi laughed and said ‘I may be big and very green, but I'm still me!’” - Janell Cannon, Verdi
“Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers.” -Charles W. Eliot
reprinted from https://etherealbeings.wordpress.com/2015/06/25/verdi/
Time to get up.
I lift my sore, stiff self out of bed and throw on my sarong so I can let the dog out hitting the coffee maker on the way to the door. He’s got this big ol’ noggin and fat feet and big ol’ smile - he just makes me happy in a warm, safe and cuddly kind of way. Sounds weird and is hard to explain so I’ll just stop with the sappy stuff now. Anyway, I let him out and the neighbor is out, he looks but when I call him he comes by me no issue. Usually it’s when he is on a leash he is more aggressive or threatening sounding with his guttural barks.
My friend Jim came to get me yesterday with his dog Akahana around lunchtime - we drove around, went to Whole Foods for lunch and shopping and finally came to pick up Sammy, my puppy. (Sammy, by the way, is a 60 pound, 3 years old pit bull mix.)
I told him Blackwell was closed last time I drove by, but we can try it. They must have widened the trail and taken out some brush. It looked good. It was Sammy’s first time there and I was a little nervous. I communicated with the only person who happened to be there as we approached since she had a German Shepard. Two big dogs who don’t know each other. A risk, I thought.
Now I had seen Sammy around Akahana, a 6 week old puppy, a group of dogs at the shelter, my friend’s pit bull and some randoms at Herrick Lake who were off leash during our run. He had always been well behaved. When we walk around the neighborhood and he is on leash, he seems like he is going to chomp you to bits sometimes. Again, there’s a metaphor or something here, but I’m still looking for it.
She said her dog was fine and hello and all that so we walked in. Sammy and Aka acknowledged the German Shepard briefly from a distance and then pretty much ignored him. After some sniffing around, the German Shepard approached - they all smelled each other and went about their business. It was totally anti-climactic.
We walked along the new trail and encountered other walkers. The dogs all peacefully did their thing. I tested Sammy a little asking him to come by me when I knew he was busy sniffing around. He paused and slowly made his way to me with such a begrudging look on his face like, ‘really, lady, I just got here. you gonna put me back on a leash, c’mon, ugh’. I gave him a great shake and hug and told him he was good and sent him back out to sniff and play and explore. He galloped off.
When we circled back around there was another pit mix who was slender with hefty haunches just like Sammy except a little smaller. His name was Toby. Toby immediately took to Sammy and they raced across the limestone end to end.
Love this dog. Cheers to a long, happy life full of dog parks and chasing toys and butt scratches and guttural funny noises as we roll around upside down scratching our backs on the carpet.
"A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself." —Josh Billings
"Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole." —Roger Caras
“Dogs are wise. They crawl away into a quiet corner and lick their wounds and do not rejoin the world until they are whole once more.” —Agatha Christie
“The world would be a nicer place if everyone had the ability to love as unconditionally as a dog.” ―M.K. Clinton
“The better I get to know men, the more I find myself loving dogs.” —Charles de Gaulle
“The only creatures that are evolved enough to convey pure love are dogs and infants.” —Johnny Depp
“What counts is not necessarily the size of the dog in the fight; it's the size of the fight in the dog.” —Dwight D. Eisenhower
"Why does watching a dog be a dog fill one with happiness?" —Jonathan Safran Foer
“When an eighty-five pound mammal licks your tears away, then tries to sit on your lap, it's hard to feel sad.” ―Kristan Higgins
“There are times when even the best manager is like the little boy with the big dog — waiting to see where the dog wants to go so he can take him there.” —Lee Iacocca
"Anybody who doesn't know what soap tastes like never washed a dog." —Franklin P. Jones
“A dog can’t think that much about what he’s doing, he just does what feels right.” ―Barbara Kingsolver
"When the Man waked up he said, 'What is Wild Dog doing here?' And the Woman said, 'His name is not Wild Dog any more, but the First Friend, because he will be our friend for always and always and always.'" —Rudyard Kipling
“Once you have had a wonderful dog, a life without one, is a life diminished.” —Dean Koontz
"I care not for a man's religion whose dog and cat are not the better for it." —Abraham Lincoln
“Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read.” —Groucho Marx
“Dogs don't rationalize. They don't hold anything against a person. They don't see the outside of a human but the inside of a human.” —Cesar Millan
“Dogs never bite me. Just humans.” —Marilyn Monroe
"If you think dogs can't count, try putting three dog biscuits in your pocket and then give him only two of them." —Phil Pastoret
“I think dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love. For me, they are the role model for being alive.” —Gilda Radner
"If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went." —Will Rogers
"The average dog is a nicer person than the average person." —Andy Rooney
"I wonder if other dogs think poodles are members of a weird religious cult." —Rita Rudner
"Happiness is a warm puppy." —Charles M. Schulz
“If you eliminate smoking and gambling, you will be amazed to find that almost all an Englishman's (and a girl’s... says I...) pleasures can be, and mostly are, shared by his dog.” —George Bernard Shaw
"I've seen a look in dogs' eyes, a quickly vanishing look of amazed contempt, and I am convinced that basically dogs think humans are nuts." —John Steinbeck
"You think dogs will not be in heaven? I tell you, they will be there long before any of us." —Robert Louis Stevenson
reprinted from https://etherealbeings.wordpress.com/2015/06/24/dog-park/
a pure direct highway.
nothing but truth.
just moving forward.
the ghost in the machine has no operator.
Poetry is certainly not the way to get in my writing quota today. There was more to that one, but it began going in a way that was out of alignment with an original idea about rawness so I stopped, deleted the parts that were tangent and just left it.
I’m working on one brain cell anyway.
It is so nice to be home. “Day off”. I took a nap after making chicken soup - love chicken soup - crashed really hard - bad dreams this time.
In one part I can remember, it was raining a lot, I was driving around and I couldn’t see where I was going. Suddenly the car drove downward. I was on a rooftop and just went down a set of steps the car would never get back up. The rooftop was flooding and the car was starting to fill with water. I looked at my phone hoping to call for help, but the images on the phone just started melting away. Next I remember sitting at a round picnic style table with three others, one of which was my daughter. We were out on some farm or something - dark wood panels on the interior of the building - gravel driveway. Rain was just pouring down all around us. Same issue about being isolated and no cell phone to call for help. That’s really all I can remember. Funny how stuff can happen and I primarily walk away with just the feeling of it all.
So back to the raw thing for a second. I got to thinking about why I love someone. In an earlier post I mentioned the idea of an innocence. I think that raw energy is a part of that. Uncurbed. It doesn’t always really know what it’s doing, but it wants it and just ploughs forward figuring it out along the way. It’s like a fighter’s energy - I want to call it that - because there is a lot of instinct and survival. But it would be a misidentification. Fighters train for specific things. Their instinct is honed to anticipate and plot and plan and attack - but it happens so fast, it just seems like it’s instinct. Fighting is so related to survival - you need good instincts to survive and you need good instincts to survive a fight. Training and practice - the discipline of fighting as sport or survival - fine tune raw desire that is naturally there. I’m going to really stretch here - but I’m going to say that this should be applied to everything: other sports like cycling or swimming or whatever, work like typing or analyzing or building, home life like being a good cook or cleaner or friend to your spouse or kids, relationships like friendships and people you date. All the “stuff” you go through can be treated like exercise when new. Look at how you went about doing some things or thinking about some things. Were they productive? Were the consistent with what you want long term? Are you sacrificing the long game for the short term win (is it a marathon or a sprint?)? Is your communication honest?
This all may take away from the rawness which is so beautiful - I don’t want to kill any raw energy. Honestly, if that is a fear, I should just go back and check out a good fight or a good game. Honed skill. I think of athletes like Cal Ripkin, Jr., or Brian Urlacher, or Julio Cesar Chavez who managed long careers and seemed to stay out of the tabloids for crazy behavior or epic fails. I’m not saying it’s easy - I’m saying it’s possible - and I’m saying it’s part of the game of life - depending on how you define winning, that is.
Just food for thought.
reprinted from https://etherealbeings.wordpress.com/2015/06/22/grouchy/
Same goes for artists - carousing and debauchery, lack of balance and all that - more later though.
1000 Words again!
Epic trail ride
Looks like another thousand word day! Yesterday was a blast. A few local epic days. Well, epic for me, at least. Riding knee deep in river water on a bike at midnight and paintball. Really fun. I’m getting ready for my next yoga class right now, Gentle Yoga, I’m subbing for a fellow yogini I know here at Lifetime and wondering how fast I can type out a grand and what I might talk about today. There is always so much to talk about. Some might be extemporaneous wanderings of my linear mind, dull philosophical epithets or social commentaries; others might be a blathering of the activities I have been up to which may make your eyes glaze over.
One thing I observed about myself is exhaustion. I was completely unaware of the impact the physical activity was having on my body. I hit the bed last night and was out. I wanted to stay up and get some household things done or maybe relax, have a glass of wine and a salt bath. None of which happened. (I did shower after paint ball though - I was a sweaty, dusty and gooey mess - all bruised up - it was awesome. I think we all smelled really badly also. My beltless jeans were humidly sticking to my legs and they sagged heavily. That definitely needed to change as soon as possible. So shower it was.)
After last night, you would think that after such a deep rest I would have been revived by morning, but the truth is I could have slept for half a day. Having to get up and out though turned out to be not so bad - being poolside teaching yoga was quite a pleasure. The weather was perfect and once my body starts moving and I start talking to these humbling and amazing smiling yoga students, I am revived. The 2.6 mile bicycle ride over was not so great - I mean, It wasn’t bad, but my body just did not want to peddle or move at all really. My legs were so heavy. Like sludge. I couldn’t help but think of over coming obstacles.
Which leads me to the epic midnight bike ride through the river, I mean, on the trail....
It would have been so easy to see the first bit of water on the trail and turn back. It was up to the bottoms of my pedals. By the second one I thought, okay I just went through one and it wasn’t that bad. Besides, I didn’t want to turn around and go through it again. Onward we went through slightly deeper water - up to the bottoms of my shoes. The third one was even deeper, now - my crank was underwater and my pedal stroke was up through and back down into it. By the time we got to the last one we were ploughing through water as high as my thighs right above my knees. I didn’t think it would be possible. Everytime we went through my tires felt solid on the smooth black top tarred ground. It felt so solid I didn’t worry. As long as I kept peddling, I would be alright and get through. My thighs told me I was working pretty hard so I down shifted to the lower setting so I could just spin it out. I’m sure this isn’t really good for my bike so hopefully it will get a good cleaning today.
I saw signs glimmering in the small amount of light that was shining and knew we were about to emerge from the trail and I hoped there were no parking lot barriers at the exit. I rolled easily up and out into the parking area and my thighs burned a little more as I became lighter and my cadence increased. I took a few circles and pointed out the beautiful little climb we were about to embark on - the reason we rode down this path in the first place - the Trout Farm climb, a 75 ft 6.4% grade climb. It’s just enough to give a good burn in your legs if you really try to keep your speed up. I’ve seen a few people dismount or just fall over. It’s not a big hill relatively, but I guess it’s what we’ve got for around here and it is doing the job just fine. We rode it three or four times before moving onward back towards home - which meant deciding whether or not we were going to return back through the flooded trail. We hemmed and hawed about it a few times. It is definitely perspective that makes things fun or not. And wading through the flooded trail was fun as much as that little voice in my head told me it was rather unconventional and probably not super good for my bike. But Sam was enthusiastic about it, so we plunged on back in. Right into the deep end first headlamps and tail lights on.
I swear he was trying to test my reflexes or trying to take me out entirely because as I approached, down he went right into the thigh deep river water. Home of the eight legged frogs and three eyed ducks of the DuPage River. Either way, I managed to stay upright and released my shoe to get grounding and ask if he was okay. It was pretty funny actually and since he was cracking up I figured he was alright. I stayed a safe distance so he wouldn’t be able to drag me in had that been any part of a potential evil scheme. Eventually we both figured out how to clip in underwater and carried on. On, up and out. Managed a good 1500+ feet in climbing for the day and managed to have a lot of fun in the process. It was definitely an adventure - which I like a lot. I have a tendency to get bogged down just hangin’ around the burbs so much. Home Sweet Home.
reprinted from https://etherealbeings.wordpress.com/2015/06/22/epic-trail-ride/
I kill things.
I let things grow wild.
I look at the shell of fragile
things that could not survive
in the wild unprotected.
I lay in the dirt and grass
and the branches pierce my arms,
my legs, my torso, my neck.
They pull tight and hug me into the Earth.
I birth things.
I let things grow wild.
I float into the clouds and fall back as rain
and dive into the dirt down to the roots and seeds.
I visit the worms and beetles and moles that burrow.
I push and push and emerge from the dirt to
feel the sun radiating its heat down upon us all.
I exist within things.
I let things grow wild.
I walk between the people,
trees within the forest,
buildings of the concrete jungle.
I roam and rove and glide and crawl
and hunt and love and give.
Yesterday while laying on a woven and wooden bench at the yoga studio in the ladies locker room I dreamed of children playing in the suburban yards, in sprinklers and in the sunshine. It was nice. Of course, one might wonder what I was doing dreaming there. I had forgotten about a book I had been reading since I have been so busy doing physical things - one book of a handful at this point - and so I packed it and brought it with me figuring I would read in between classes. It’s pretty difficult to find a break to do that otherwise. I gathered up my book and lay back on the bench and criss crossed my legs and began to read. I was thrilled and happy and entertained .... for about 25 minutes. My eyes began to get heavy and I could feel the weight of my eyelashes settling in drawing my eye lids downward.
“Just for a moment,” I thought. “I will just close my eyes and rest my book here on my belly and this bench is so comfortable so I will just close my eyes and I need this - so it will be fine.”
Enter, dream world. Out like a light. The next thing I knew my left arm fell off the side from it’s place on my stomach and I caught myself from falling off the bench entirely. The ladies room has the lights on a sensor. As I bolted upright, the lights flickered on. I hit the dark world of sleep like a big old walnut falling from the top of the tree. I materialized again equally as hard. It almost made me lose my dream entirely, but I still had this nice feeling and glimpses of the other world like photographs of memories or a reel of film displayed on the inner wall of my mind.
It is nice that it is summer, finally. Even the rain doesn’t bother me so much ... now that it stopped raining, that is. Where there is rain and sunlight, there are rainbows after all.
Rainbows. Gold. Chasin’ dreams. Chasin rainbows. Chasin waterfalls. Margaritaville. Wait - no. Yuk. Scratch that last one. And don’t go chasing waterfalls. Stick with the lakes and rivers you know.
Up to you. I can think of a lot of fun things to do around waterfalls... just sayin’. More on that later....
And, with that, I am over and out.
reprinted from https://etherealbeings.wordpress.com/2015/06/19/waterfalls/