Archives for category: Science

I don’t want to do those lists anymore. Maybe it’s a mood thing. Maybe it takes me so friggin long to log into my account that it robs me of a small parcel of my soul. This is not my bank account, there is no need for these ridiculous passwords.

Yes, ok, I started with Dyslexia despite the title. I’m finding that common these days, I say one thing and do another. I used to be so diligent about being reliable and honest. In previous years I would have been mortified to be so <insert appropriate word here>. See that? That’s me not judging myself. Trying. I’m more ‘human’ now.

I feel less like a 2D cut out, but at the same time, I feel so deflated and heavy. I started with my new counsellor today, and before I realized what I had said I was laughing. “This world is not big enough for me”.  I was detailing how my last counsellor opened up space for me, and after a few tears, this.

The truth is I am a big ideas person. Details don’t just bore me, they kill me. I know some people adore detail, I’ve met them. And while I can clean something to military precision, I still object to having to look at this spotlessly clean tap and be displeased to see a watermark. Come on! (I don’t clean anymore, that’s another post).

I’m a scientist, it’s the thing I am most qualified to do. I follow some Buddhist precepts. I never found either to be at odds, and yet people like to have you in one basket, or worse, box. These labels feel like coffins. Claustrophobic, dark and life ending. How can anyone live freely with all these labels.

Fat lot of good either of them did me. I move closer to a PTSD diagnosis, I’m resigned to it. I avoided the mental health professionals (and was rejected by them as being too sane) for my career. As long as I was working I had all the therapy I needed.

All the hidden threads are leading back to one big fucked up ball of wool. Sleeping problems, stomach problems, emotional outbursts… things that are perfectly ordinary reactions to real and present stress: joblessness and poverty will do that. I haven’t the energy for the mental gymnastics anymore.

The things that are escaping from me now I have no diligence are consistent with PTSD. Or more precisely, complex PTSD. What a shitty world. What a shitty, shitty world. I wouldn’t fair better in any other time: I’d have been burnt as a witch. What a shitty world we make for each other.

Over Christmas I learned something that helps me understand my family and by extension me,  better. Not good things, imagine if you will a Fibonacci sequence of shit. Hopefully, in the descendant, she says with a lackluster pun. I said years ago that it would all end with me. Now I know what ‘it’ is.


I’ve been thinking things through…

1) There is no need to worry about eating meat. Although there are plenty of spiritual traditions that hold only vegitarians have the purity to elevate to certain levels, there are plenty who say nothing on the matter.

Oh, I’m not in a list mood. I’m in a playful mood. I did some research on Women’s Meditation practices in Tibet, and then did more research on Dakini, and then I listened to some music… I provoked my friend, who just loves to dwell in the muck and filth of life, and scorns me because he thinks I’m a bit ‘Pollyanna’… Trust me on this one, I am not.

If anything I am a practical person… I finished sanding two peg looms that I made today. I am going to make things, textile type things. This pleases me.

So the god thing. It doesn’t matter. However much people say it matters, it really doesn’t. The world is not any less filled with awe without god. We are all atoms, we are all made from stars, and when we die we return to our natural state and become part of something else. Now why is that any less spectacular as any of the worlds creation myths? I’m cool which ever story you like to tell, but I hold my right to tell my own story.

I watched another video that challenged me to do a painting. 8 colours, one a day for 20 days and I can only take 2 mins to make it. It has to be A2 size. But I reckon I’ll use A3 (English)… see cheating already. When I get myself tied up in knots about things, it’s easy to fall into a funk, so sod it. Buddhist, not Buddhist who cares, pass me a paint brush.

I’m the kid that just made a sand castle, and he came and kicked it over. He doesn’t want to play he says, but the very act of coming and interacting even negatively with me, betrays the fact that he does want to play. Either he thinks he needs rules or he doesn’t know how to describe the game he wants me to play. What am I going to do?

Yeah! Build another sand castle, and if he wants to kick this one in fine, I might just kick him if he does though…

Erykah Badu: Didn’t Cha Know
India Arie: I See God In You
Macy Gray: Beauty In The World
Laura Mvula: Human Nature

Tuesday, I spent the day with my Dad. He’s got high blood pressure and has to stop eating salt. I taught him to make a stew and said now he knew how to make nearly everything. He doesn’t believe me. He ate the full pan in one day (three meals), he walks 10 miles a day, so he can get away with it. In summer he walks more. Or did, now the dog is gone, I worry for him.

Wednesday, I went to the opera to see Otello. I cried. The ticket was a gift. Not for me for my friend, The Ukraine. Her husband decided that he did not want to go and I was the lucky beneficiary.

Thursday, I went to the cinema to see Les Miserables. I cried. I forgot my discount card but the woman still gave me a discounted ticket for a pound, which my friend The Boffin paid for.

Friday, I saw my Dad again as it was his Birthday. He brought me some pre-cut stir fry veg. I told him on Tuesday that one tub was enough for two meals and he laughed and said one. What he had brought me was the second of the tubs saying that he couldn’t eat it all. Go figure!

Saturday, I offered one of my pieces of art to be used as a prize in a tombola to raise money for Medicin Sans Frontiere, they accepted. I’m so pleased. In the evening, a pal came to pick me up (The Facilitator) for a party and it was BYOB, so I bought 8 cans, this was not a night to be one beer short. I declined to perform. And I danced and danced and danced. So many people were out. I was drunk and I was dancing. We walked home and I swore all the way dragging my suitcase behind me. It was excellent.

Today, I was allowed to open my presents from Miss India. For Christmas I got Pirates in an Adventure With Scientists with matching sticker book and a novel called The Dark Side of Love.

Here is the amazing list of India gifts:

A scarf.
A bag.
Some henna.
A packet of Bindi (decorative dots put in between the eyebrows).
15 post cards, one of which is hand painted and dated 1967.
Earl Grey Tea.
An Om pendant.
And a small Bronze statue of Hanuman.

She was going to save some for my birthday in August but couldn’t wait to give me them.

The best part? Ever since I was a little girl I heard stories about Hanuman. I have been in love with him all my life. By accident I have had several boyfriends with nicknames like monkey and chimp! I never thought that I would ever be fortunate to have my very own Hanuman statue. And here he is in my house.

I’ve been listening to all sorts too much to mention but check out Asa – The Way I Feel. Last night they play M.I.A’s Bad Girl.

When you have time and would like to watch a movie, you MUST watch Sita Sings the Blues. It is free to view on Youtube.

The last few months have been so hard going that it has been difficult to see the beauty around me. I won’t try and rewrite history and pretend everything has been fine. This is not the way the world works. How can we ever appreciate the beauty and the love in the world, if we never experience hard times.

I wrote a new blog on the 17th but I didn’t post it. It needs to be pulled apart and posted as a Tryptic. At a later date, possibly. Maybe never.

‘Harry’ doesn’t feel like we have chemistry and he doesn’t think in the long term a relationship will develop. He likes me and he’s looking forward to seeing me in the future but he doesn’t see any point in contriving a friendship. I am confused but not surprised. I didn’t respond to his last email (9 days ago).

A conversation I had with my friend ‘Jed’ has had me thinking. Since his long term relationship broke up, I think Jed’s been floating and this may not be good for his 9 year old daughter. I hinted that the relationship he is in now, could be healthier than he thinks. Jed thinks he’s not that into his g/f, he might be right, but something in his manner suggests that all is not as he would have me believe.

I warned Jed that he needed to think about how he relates to women because his daughter is watching and learning. I said flippantly, it was no wonder my relationships fail because I go for men like my father; they smell like booze and stale cigarettes and they ignore me. Would Jed be happy if his daughter brought someone home like him? He pulled a face.

Dear Reader, we are in danger of getting into the ‘Oedipus Complex’. Don’t believe it for a second, at least not the way that Freud would have us believe, but there is a kernel of truth in that nut. We form our ideas about relationships through watching those around us. Rarely, do we learn from directed teaching as children; especially the kind of lessons that our parents teach us (do as I say not, as I do?).

Some Buddhists believe in soul groups and collective karma. Some psychologists and sociologists believe in group consciousness. Other religions, philosophies, political groups etc will have similar thoughts. Here’s the thread that binds… I am repeating my mothers patterns, just as she has repeated her mothers patterns.

I think I ‘liked’ Harry because I knew that he would be distant. What I read in his profile allowed me to make a different story than the one I had intuited from his picture. I knew that he would be ‘a geek’. Being geek conversant, this doesn’t phase me. In relationships however, when you are tactile like I am, you need a geek that is conversant in ‘hippy’. Group Hug!

My mother married three absent husbands and always blamed herself for the two divorces (secretly). She didn’t know her father. When my gran lost her first husband in the war, I think she lost ‘it’. My mothers father… well that’s her story to tell. Lets just say he wasn’t able to be her father.

Being informed in my youth that real men didn’t hit women, glossed over the need to protect myself from the other kinds of men that I might encounter. Including the absent kind. The ones that say they want in, but inevitably wander off shouting “Stop being so clingy” on their way out. I am cutting this thread short. Do you understand what I am doing here?

Other connections I lost this month include my internet. 5 days with out. I listened to more music on the dictaphone, ‘Kiss 98’ (proof again, that just because you can doesn’t mean you should) and a brilliant mix tape of Tamla Motown. I also lost the flow in the last of my interviews for the internship.

A friend of mine has offered me some volunteer work that will help soothe the pain of the rejection. I’m going to look after chickens and sheeps and goats and stuffs on the City Farm! (I kind of hope that I don’t get either of the jobs shhhh.) Also, I have been skills sharing with a local artist and friend and we are going to collaborate on some multimedia work. So, you know, you win some/you lose some.

E is for Erasure, Yahoo!
F is for Ella Fitzgerald, Cry me a River.
G is for Goldfrapp, No. 1.
H is for Jimi Hendrix, Bold as Love.
I is for INXS, Never Tear Us Apart.

Einstein believed that intuition is the subconscious minds way of delivering advice to the conscious mind, based on what it had learnt from experience with a bit of logic thrown in for good measure. It was also Einstein that said the definition of insanity is “doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results each time.”

I sent Harry an email today.