Ripening

I've not written in the past week. Ha. I often say I haven't written, yet I did compose/post the recent blog on "Subtlety:  A Current Perspective of The Way International" Yet I don't consider that writing for me. I look at it more as sharing information, maybe?

I've had a difficult few days. I am in a mode where I feel on the edge of slipping. Yesterday I had wanted to work in my Dialectical.....Workbook. I never got around to it. Instead I lay on my bed, getting in touch with my inner personas...and visiting with myself. I then drifted into deep sleep for a couple hours. I arose after dreaming. My body ached; not a terrible ache. My teeth felt funny in their sockets. Not like they once did when my episodes were severe. I had that funny taste/smell within me, similar to a slow drip I.V. streaming a diluted substance into my inner network of complex tubing. My brain and body felt slow.

HALT. I had thought of it eariler, before I fell into sleep. Traditionally it stands for Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired. Those states can trigger episodes and also can leave one vulnerable. I don't have trouble with Hunger typically; I have fasted regularly throughout my adult life, the longest being (I think) 10 days. Even with that I don't think I've ever experienced true hunger, but I get that aspect of the HALT acronym. Perhaps "Hunger" could also go beyond physical hunger. Hunger for love or knowing one's value, or other.

For me "H" in HALT stands for Hormones. That always seems a factor in my life, hormones. Having ingested 1000's (not an exaggeration) of doses of steroids to treat asthma and keep me breathing; having been on other asthma drugs regularly; imbibing in alcohol; fulling embracing street drugs in my teen years; walking a tight wire of perfection for decades, living with my foot on the gas and break simultaneously; chronically knowing sleep deprivation for decades. All of it taxes the endocrine system. Not to mention the stressors of the unprecedented exponential evolvement of modern life (ie: "progress") and the regular traumas of being human and the ever changing aspects of womanhood.

Geez, that sounds like a pity party. Yet my point to myself is, my hormones. Thus "H" in HALT stands for Hormones to me, not Hunger.

After arising around 7:15 pm from my nap, I never did look at my workbook nor pay the bills.

After a night of dreaming, I finally arose today at 11:15 am. My mind throughout my upper torso was swimming with all sorts of thoughts.

I must work this afternoon; catch up on emails. My personal emails (non-work) have taken great neglect. I want to write. I want to continue the memoirs I started in Woodstock; they are coming in a chronological sense now. I want to complete my NY entries; how will I convey what happened at the end of my journey there? It may have to wait. I can still write it and save it, but leave out parts for any public eyes until later, until it's time. I need to start back exercising. I need to organize my home; stuff from Mom's is still scattered; I need to visit the homeplace and tell it bye. If I do, I bet it will sell. Why do I avoid it? *tears* I need to eat. First up is that I must work....no, I must write. Yes, I must write.

There was a time when I retemorized scripture verses (see "retemory"); I had a scripture for everything it seemed. If I wasn't retemorizing I would be speaking in tongues silently or witnessing or teaching; always accomplishing.

I'm sitting on my back porch right now. There are a multitude of birds honoring life. All sorts of tones and pitches and tunes. A symphony. Figs on the fig trees are ripening. The sky is overcast, but in a good way. The weeping willow has dropped most of her leaves. I enjoy my backporch and the woods beyond the lawn which is partly carpeted with soft Zoysia grass.

Life is good. Deep breath, sweet aromas, stories that live in time...

Chuckle. The lawn mowing next door has started. Must be time to go to work.

Timing, sometimes it's 'everything...'

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