kellementology

life according to me

Category: Gratitude

  • Thoughtfully synthesizing statistics, dreams, and spiders

    As another month draws to a close, I am left wondering why, oh why this particular post has been viewed so many times this month. As of two minutes ago, it has been “viewed” 1,004 times. When I scan down the statistics presented about this site to the key phrases and words used for searching, “spider” is far and away the greatest one that this site is connected with. At one point or another, someone was looking for information about spiders, photos of spiders, ground spiders, pictures of spiders, etc… You get the idea. Spiders. Nine-hundred-thirty-three times. It has to be the time of year. People see their webs, their gorgeous plump orange bodies and want to know if the creature will eat their Yorkshire Terrier. People are curious.

    So back to my stats — of course I know that “viewed” doesn’t necessarily mean they’ve actually visited my page. But I have accumulated nearly 2,000 unique visitors this month — nearly 300 more than last month. I’m not sure why. Perhaps people are simply trying to figure out what to do about those short hairs. But if they have viewed that post, I doubt they stopped long enough read what I had written. That’s too bad, because I truly like that post. It’s about dreams. Not spiders. I had recently had a dream about a tarantula, so the post was my attempt to analyze it. The whole experience was rather strange and fascinating. Okay, so it was fun, too. I’ll admit it. And since nearly four months have passed, I’ve decided that it’s a good time to revisit some of what I deciphered about what spiders in dreams mean — and show you my latest photos of my resident orb weaver, Clyde (who is probably a female…), and his – er, her buddies.

    Clyde fixing his web for dinner Clyde is pretty busy, isn’t he? Go, Clyde, go.  Go, go, go.

    (Clyde appears to be small here…)

    With respect to “staying away from an alluring and tempting situation,” clearly that would be blogging. I’m hooked. But it isn’t just about the writing, or the social network that blogging has created for me, there’s a technical side I truly enjoy and want to learn more about. I’m annoyed that lately, I have to put that curiosity aside to be more constructive about the project I’ve been working on which will actually earn money if I ever remember to turn in my time sheets. Every situation is tempting at this point, with the first deadline looming on October 15th and the second November 1st. Laundry is enticing. Toilets aren’t yet tantalizing, however.

    “…a powerful force protecting [me] against [my] self-destructive behavior” again has to refer to blogging. Exhibit A would be this post. But to be fair, it’s Thursday. I have mentioned before that Thursday is my favorite day of the week and to celebrate that, I’ve instituted for myself Thoughtful Thursday. Ironically, I hadn’t remembered that until just now. That confirms that I’m simply basking in something I’ve always enjoyed, that my spirits are high, and that I’m…well…being thoughtful about what I want to be thoughtful about instead of what I have to be thoughtful about. You know. That project. I’ll get around to it when I’m finished being thoughtful about dreams and spiders.

    Small, new spider buddy on the block

    (This guy is so much smaller than Clyde. Just wait…)

    So what other kind of self-destructive behavior could there be? Hmmm…that isn’t the kind of thing I want to think about right now, but it could be a great discussion for later. Suffice it to say that the topic would include Food + Wine, and no, I’m not talking about the magazine.

    Okay, moving right along…Just a note that the spider searchers have already given up on me because I haven’t provided any information about spiders in this post yet. That’s too bad, because I have a huge spider treat saved for later. And yes, it will be just about as Hallo-weenie as I get. Dreams…where was I?

    “…energetic in my labors and fortune will be amassed…domestic happiness.” I truly can pat myself on my back for being a diligent, avid member of Bloggsville. Hell, I could be mayor. As far as the fortune goes, I believe that’s relative, and that I feel fortunate for what I have. It’s not about the cash — it’s about gratitude. And that extends to domestic bliss as well — um, except for when the Yack Star barfs up her breakfast on the rug immediately after leaving her bowl twice in two days. No, she’s not sick. She has binge and purge problem because she’s a plus size feline. It’s a problem that rates fairly low on the domestic bliss meter.

    Clyde’s little brother, Mr. Busy.

    (This guy is half the size of Clyde…)

    With regard to “an aspect of myself that is vulnerable and helpless…” er, um…I think you know that I’ve really been struggling with some physiological changes that are kicking my butt. I’m about as far from helpless as Bush is from being an elocutionist, but do feel a bit as though I’m just not what or whom I used to be. It’s unsettling, but I refuse to get depressed over it. I’ve got my stuff lined up on the counter, and am trying very hard to stick with it day and night so I don’t end up being helpless from neglect. Sad, but true. Take care of your bodies, or you will regret it.

    And finally, “maintain a balance…everything [I] do now is weaving what [I] will encounter in the future.” Yes, I know. As much as I harangue on myself about avoidance and slovenliness, I am a fairly deliberate person. No, an extremely deliberate person. I have fun magnifying my idiosyncrasies because it’s healthy and allows me to examine my faults. Although I’d enjoy sweeping a few of the under the carpet, it wouldn’t be productive. I’d still know they’re there, and at some point would have to deal with them. They sit around in all their glory for me to think about each time one surfaces. The more I work on them, the better the future will be. See how that works? I know. Write a book.

    “I am the keeper and writer of my destiny, weaving it like a web by my thoughts, feelings, and actions.” Future, destiny…I was born with a steering wheel in my hands. It doesn’t quite work the way the one in my car works. It’s more of blowing the seeds of a dandelion into the wind and choosing one to follow until it’s time to choose another, and another, and so on…It keeps everything interesting. It’s a bit painful at times because I wait too long to change directions, and then there’s a huge upheaval that affects others in a way that I’d love to avoid. Yes, this is quite nebulous and I realize you are scratching your head about now, but I don’t want my thoughts to drift too far down that path today.
    IMG_3900.JPG (

    Clyde the Spider has grown…)

    And to get down to the clencher, “enemies are about to overwhelm you with loss…” My immediate reaction in revisiting these words was that I don’t have enemies. Or if I do, I don’t know who they are. (Don’t care who they are if they exist?) And then I read what my original response was — I was so right! Doubting voices, indeed. Especially when I consider the project I’ve been working on. In fact, this morning on my walk, I told my VBF that what I was working on completely sucked. That I’ve worked on the words and they all just sound like jargon — meaningless and inane. But I also know it’s normal and so I just keep plugging along. I’m not enjoying the work, however. News flash. It doesn’t feel as if it belongs to me, and I am very undisciplined in engaging in anything that my heart and soul are not invested in. It’s a problem and I seriously doubt I’ll outgrow it at this point in my life.

    No, I’ve just decided to embrace it, fists clenched, teeth bared.

    Balls to the wind, as my mother would say.

    Which is why I’m being so thoughtful today.

     

  • gratitude = sum of the parts > the whole

    We used to live in a house 25 miles east of Paradise. Yes, still Paradise, but worlds away from here for all kinds of reasons. It was about as beautiful as the suburbs could be in a place that should still be a desert covered with scrubby bushes and hillsides speckled with strangely rounded boulders instead of houses and neighborhood malls. We were fortunate enough to happen upon this house at a time in our lives when we needed more space: my two older boys were just entering their adolescence, our youngest was still not one, and my mom was getting pretty tired of her life and wanted a change. Only one family had lived in this house before us — a family of three. The man had died 10 years earlier, so the woman had stayed until she could no longer care for herself and was moved to a care facility somewhere near her daughter on the East Coast. For the longest time, the house still felt as if it belonged to her. Her child had grown up in the house, and they had lived there for almost 50 years.

    Rain

    One of the things I loved about the house was the view. Nearly every window provided a pleasant treescape, or views of distant hills that, if you woke up early enough, afforded a gorgeous sunrise. And I was up early quite a bit in those days, because 6-month-old babies do wake up earlier than most of us want them to.

    As my life became more crowded with the kinds of things we all grapple with, I found myself feeling put upon, and frazzled. At times, I swore that I could feel the person I was supposed to be sinking farther and farther away, as if drowning. Before bed each night most often after everyone else had long since retired, I’d quietly venture out into the yard and look into the dark sky to say my penance for spending so much of my day being dissatisfied with what I had.

    Moon

    I knew there had to be something up there willing to hear me list all the things I acknowledged I was thankful for — because I didn’t want to give the wrong impression. “I love my kids, I love my husband, I have a job, I have a nice house, we’re all healthy, we have food…” the litany went each night, attempting to seal in what I was thankful for.

    Although I remember this with tiny shards of sadness, I reluctantly drag it to the surface as a sort of measuring stick. So much is different now. Time has a way of doing that. But time isn’t enough. Many other factors must be considered to acknowledge what I am truly grateful for without it being an apology to the night sky. I realize that if I hadn’t lived those days, I would be less than who I am now. It all adds up. So this is my contribution. Thanks to Dave for passing on the opportunity to convey my gratitude, although perhaps not as eloquently expressed as his.

    So if you are someone who finds your cup a bit empty instead of full, take the time to make your own list. And if you’re someone who likes to create two lists — one with plusses, and one with minuses, I guarantee you’ll never get to the minus side of things if you always start with the plusses. Come on. Pay it forward. Do it now. There. I nodded in your direction.

    I have gratitude for my family — but specifically my boys.

    Men Men Men

    Mmmm….b-o-y-z. I love my men, men, men, men…because they are just flat out different. Refreshingly not like me. They just don’t get caught up in all the total crap that females do. They make life so much easier unless I want a reason to get worked up, and then they’re really good at being the reason I get worked up — because they’re not like me. You get that, right?

    I’m thankful — so very thankful for the relationship that the MoH and the RT have.

    Time Flies

    They truly like one another. The MoH still gets warm & fuzzy attention from the RT who is very comfortable with hug & love stuff. The MoH and I must have done some pretty effective modeling in our spare time. I didn’t have a relationship with a father, and didn’t get to observe my brother having one, either, so I’m curious about the whole Dad thing. Curious — which is different than wanting, needing, or wishing. Or hoping. And put a cork in the guilt while you’re reading this, Mom because that’s a complete waste of time. Ahem…moving right along…

    Though my intensity would rival that of a laser, I’m grateful for my ability to notice small things

    Wall

    that bring me to a screeching halt long enough to breathe and wonder about nothing in particular —

    Leaf light

    — like the way sun comes in to brighten up the house after so many days of grey.

    Blinds

    Things sparkle, shine, and amazing shadows emerge for just a minute or two, and then are gone.

    Golden Reflection

    Somebody has to notice those things and share them with others, right? So I guess my tiny digital camera gets the nod as well. Now if I could only figure out the macro thing, I’d be set.

    I’m grateful for that old Betty Crocker cookbook and a mom who shoved a cast iron skillet in my hand and said, “Make dinner for the family,” when I was still pretty young. I never cease to find pleasure in thinking about food, cooking food, serving food, and eating food. Oh — and the people who eat my food. Mmmmm…..food. I absolutely love it — and them for enjoying it.

     

    So that leads to gratitude for my developing relationship with my scale, and the respect I have for my control or lack of control, which can be pretty powerful. Boy that’s a constant argument I have with myself. To have more, or not to have more…simply more…More tasty is working better than just more…Having a brain that processes this factors in here somewhere.

    And I’m grateful for people like this who make me smile on my less than exciting walks,

     

    because I just wonder, “What were they thinking?” and then have to be even more grateful that I could never be as hateful as the person who then threw something corrosive on her driveway and ruined the prettiness she was so proud of, and not wanting people to spoil with their “turning around in her driveway” tires.

    And I would be even more grateful if people like that didn’t exist. But that’s asking too much, right? Because we’re all supposed to be thankful we aren’t them. But cockroaches are small enough to step on, so someone could have figured out how to rid us of the mean folk.

    In my next life, I would like to hope and wish to be grateful for patience. If there’s a line for that somewhere, help me make sure I get in it.