One of the by products of learning how to do this spiritual, in touch with the Universe thing is that you get a lot of messages that you don't know how to interpret right away. All last week, the 30th through July 4th, I felt unsettled. Someone was knocking at my brain for attention. I contacted all the usual suspects and still had a niggling feeling. Then about July 4th Don. S. Davis' name kept hanging around my head.
Don Davis is General Hammond on SG-1. He died on June29th. I just opened the email from Kate at RDAnderson's site. His name has been in my head from Friday until today. I don't know what it means. I did get he vague impression that it wasn't a good thing that his name was there. I did think for a moment that he was dead. Promptly dismissing that thought, I went back to my regular routine. But I haven't been right at work all week.
That niggling used to happen when I lived in MQT and ministered to the fellowship through notes and letters with specific scriptural references. The CM (Campus Minister) thought that it was disruptive when Markus freaked about a letter I sent him. I didn't know what his issues were. I just wrote the letter that he was supposed to get because he wasn't listening to anyone else. After Markus freaked and I couldn't explain to the CM what this gift was, I freaked. I haven't been into that since. But I am having Verta retrain me so that I can understand. I always felt wrong about scrapping that mission without even talking to the CO. And I have to say, without the gift I have been blindsided in ways that I never anticipated. [See earlier posts.]
I just wish that I had known in time to send a little peace General Hammond's way.
I feel like I lost my Dad all over again. The way he kept Jack in line reminded me of my last years of conversations with dad.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Talisman against dream killers
I just wrote a brilliant blog inquiring if a dream is really a dream if it isn't shared and then blew it into oblivion by technological disaster. When will I learn?
And what cosmic lesson is there in this disaster? Did I mean to post so dark a commentary? Was it a pity party that did not need life on the web? Was it something else, something that the fates, my guides or HP didn't want to haunt me later? I can only speculate. But... what I can recreate verbatim is this....
"I could go the the Great Internet Oracle, The Grand Master Geek of the Highest Order himself. But I am afraid he's just a little guy behind a curtain, stalling me with a series of tests because he doesn't know the answers either."
In the end, the answers I seek are within. I just don't have to patience to dig them out from under all them movies, books and lyrics that I've got crammed in my closet. I really do want someone to sprinkle me with fairy dust, wave a magic wand and make everything better. Mostly I wish that I had a talisman to work against the dream killers. If I don't find one then it will be family reunion...party of one. Gee that sounds..........................dull as all get out.
and the answer is.....
The last time that I felt successful I felt like I had all the information and could get more if I needed it. I felt like I was doing something good. First in day care then in art by encouraging people to express through a craft. I know how to care for kids. I know art. I couldn't be shaken until someone higher up the food chain came along.
People with degrees started telling me that my style was wrong. There was nothing wrong with my information but I wasn't degreed and therefore I was doing it wrong. I don't know for certain that I recognized that person as a dream killer then. That an attempt was made to keep me out of my feild a second time when I changed focus, makes it quite clear that said "good intentioned" was in fact a dream killer. I have been surrounded by them and not recognized them as such.
We have nothing if we have no dreams. If we do not share our dreams do we really have them?
I want to write. I dream of being a writer. I am willing to do that through copy writing to start. But I want the ideas in my head to be a world between endpages. I don't dare share this again. The dream killers are out there lurking, waiting for me to have another dream. It's been 25 years since this writing dream died. I haven't told anyone in my old circle that I have resurrected it. My new friends are excited about it. But what do I do now?
I could go to the Great Internet Oracle, the Grand Master Geek of the Highest Order himself for a consult. But there again, I am afraid that he's just a little guy behind a curtain that will tell me I have to pass a series of tests only to find out he was stalling me cause he doesn't have the answer. I wish someone did.
A voice in my head says "All is inside, Grasshopper."
People with degrees started telling me that my style was wrong. There was nothing wrong with my information but I wasn't degreed and therefore I was doing it wrong. I don't know for certain that I recognized that person as a dream killer then. That an attempt was made to keep me out of my feild a second time when I changed focus, makes it quite clear that said "good intentioned" was in fact a dream killer. I have been surrounded by them and not recognized them as such.
We have nothing if we have no dreams. If we do not share our dreams do we really have them?
I want to write. I dream of being a writer. I am willing to do that through copy writing to start. But I want the ideas in my head to be a world between endpages. I don't dare share this again. The dream killers are out there lurking, waiting for me to have another dream. It's been 25 years since this writing dream died. I haven't told anyone in my old circle that I have resurrected it. My new friends are excited about it. But what do I do now?
I could go to the Great Internet Oracle, the Grand Master Geek of the Highest Order himself for a consult. But there again, I am afraid that he's just a little guy behind a curtain that will tell me I have to pass a series of tests only to find out he was stalling me cause he doesn't have the answer. I wish someone did.
A voice in my head says "All is inside, Grasshopper."
on failure
Wil got a gig on Criminal Minds after blowing a "big" audition. Sympathy and encouragement abound on the comments pages. Advice flies like shrapnel on a battlefield when he posts. And its usually Wil calming himself, and then us by sharing what the experience has taught him. I love this guy. And it got me to thinking about my own failures.
When I should succeed and I don't there is always this gnawing thing in the bottom of my stomach that starts laughing at me when it's through feeding on my innards. And then that laugh goes right up my spine and tries to squash anything else that comes up. My writing this Summer for one. For two, my choice to be a housekeeper. I know sum of all parts and all. But what I find most odd is that I can not find the words to comfort myself in times of debilitating doubt. Why can I remember Picard's advice to Data "It is possible to have committed no error and still lose." when I want to make someone else feel better? Where are those words when I need them?
But where is my evolution stalled when all I care about is how I feel? When I fail to get recognition, could it be so that someone else may have a turn in the spotlight? Could it be that the person who replaces me can't handle rejection as well as I? You know, God not giving us more than we can bear and all that.
In many cases it is self sabotage. I am afraid of success.
I said it. It's out in the open. It's posted on the net. I am afraid to fly. I know how to fall, it hurts and it's not a very graceful, but I know how to do it. And as yet, i haven't learned how to "fall with style."
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