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BY meham

04/01 Direct Link
I didnít miss my first day. I thought I had. It was easy. I have been caught up in getting my self, all of myself, organized so that doing this one thing doesnít overwhelm me. This weekend is the start of spring break. It is also the weekend Richard comes to stay with me. That is a second set of tasks all by itself. It is also a distraction from whatever other plans I make for the days. So, this one task did not get done.

Another task did get done, though. It was a writing task so itís alright.
04/02 Direct Link
I donít mind that the hundred words I was intending today fell by the wayside. By focusing on only one writing task at a time I get to experience the necessities of each one individually. I get to know, for example, just how much writing one hundred words is. Itís not nearly as long as, say, sixteen hundred. I know that writing sixteen hundred words takes several forty-five minute sessions, and a little more coffee. OK. Iím going to check the word count and see what this comes to. Right backÖ Um. Thatís one hundred and ninety one words. Damn.
04/03 Direct Link
I forgot about the time difference. That statement about missing the first day became true, since I posted it after nine at night. Do numbers count as words? I feel better for doing this, for sitting here at the end of my day writing.

I feel best that the evening is the beginning of the new day. In Huna tradition, the evening is the beginning of the new day, the time in which we can dream what is to come, clear the slate to create our lives anew.
Tonight, I dream, that tomorrow, I wake with my heart centered homeward.
04/04 Direct Link
Having a calling, or being called to do something, seems to be the theme of the day. Doesn't make me feel better. In fact, I feel crummy. I've heard all the call crap before, and unless I get a personally written invitation, or at least a voice mail message...

Nah... I hear it and get it. What bothers me is that the Call doesn't come with instructions. Todayís call came from Ursula LeGuin in the form of asking for a critic to explain how PK Dick wrote complexity so simply. Figuring that out will only help my own writing, huh.
04/05 Direct Link
Have you ever had the experience of saying or doing something, and wonder what the hell you were thinking, only to find out later that it was exactly the right thing to say or do? At work, someone else should cover one case so that Iíd be available for another. At home, I was thinking that my ďtalentsĒ would be better used on the second case.

Today, I found out that I am being transferred from the first case to the second. Some would say I attracted it. I would say I was the one attracted.

Timeís just another wave.
04/06 Direct Link
Crap! Iíve missed the time boundary. Hard to get used to both the time difference as well as my own writing. Wrote more than the required number but not for this posting. Wrote a section for a short story in the works. Wrote a lot of notes for another story, inspired by notes from a book on writing fiction. Havenít even touched the notes or the reading for the science fiction assignments. Read the stories though.

The short story is a science fiction story and fits the requirements of the genre. Now I just need to add bones, and flesh.
04/07 Direct Link
And even though I am writing minutes apart, it is still the wee hours of a new day on the east coast, miles away from where I am at the moment.

I forget that I have to use Word for my word count. Not a bad thing. I get to have a copy of the text thatís posted online that I can use for something else. Like my blog page. (Tee hee. Word doesnít recognize ďblogĒ as a legitimate word. Cool. And yes, I do really say tee hee when I laugh. On a good day that is.)

Iím done.
04/08 Direct Link
The Weatherstone shuffle begins! As the sun concentrates in the open spaces left bare by leaf shadow, we scoot our cafe chairs, a staccato chorus of plastic shuffling, closer to each other, deeper into the shade. Accompanying this dance? Something vaguely Motown and something else indecisively fountainish. Conversation may now continue. And continue it does, with all the lewdness and rudeness that only our solarphobic tribe can generate.

This is how I spend my days off, mornings sliding into afternoons. About this time though, sneezing accompanies the music and raucous chatter as clouds of pollen overwhelm the smoke from cigarettes.
04/09 Direct Link
Back to school tomorrow. Tutoring electronics math in the evening. Iím so done with school, though. Not enough imagination and too much actual thinking about doing things, making things. I donít know what happened. Trying for my ham license? Or maybe itís just normal.

Iím just one class short of having my certificate as an electronics technician. One class short of being finished. Am I going to get a job in the field? Hell no. Not as a technician. I might get work as a writer, though. Assuming I actually stick it out and make it to the very end.
04/10 Direct Link
I get to the corner just as the light turns red. She is just ahead in the middle of the block. Cross against the light? Not in this traffic. Now! Itís green. I step off the curb as some idiot decides to make the turn on his red. Crap!

Iíve got a muscle spasm in my back from stopping myself in mid-step. Sheís just up ahead approaching the next corner: I canít let her get away. Breathing through the spasm and the pain I cross quick as I can, against the ďdonít walkĒ. Hope that guyís paying attention. I trip.
04/11 Direct Link
On nothing. The car slowed to a stop as I got up. I could just see her crossing the street as I got up, , unaware that I was trying to catch up to her. Surprisingly, nothing hurt. Adrenaline, probably. Gotta make up the distance but traffic isnít sympathizing with me now that Iím standing, not a hazard. No break in the second lane, even when the light changes. Drivers in the turn lane nosing their way in, pointedly ignoring me. Iím gonna have to sprint the distance to catch her up, to be sure of which house is hers.
04/12 Direct Link
I still want to write a one hundred word story or several. What is the key? What do I have to leave out?

The hero gets a call and goes to answer it. First, though, he has to get the tools he needs from the court. Then he goes out and comes to his first obstacle: he has no idea what heís looking for. Up jumps a helper who gives him a clue. The hero goes on and meets the villain, who is a hero in his own eyes. They clash and the hero learns something important.

Does he return?
04/13 Direct Link
We did phasor diagrams yesterday in math class. Iíd never done them before. May never do them again, either, according to the teacher. Evidently, thereís no real use for the diagrams themselves if youíre a technician. I like them anyway.

They bridge the connection between sine waves and the trigonometric graphs we use to evaluate them.

Phasor diagrams look like little more than plots on the x-y axes with a diagonal line finishing the triangle. Weíre looking at capacitance, inductance, resistance and reactance as well as how voltage and current relate in time.

Lots of stuff to keep track of.
04/14 Direct Link
Vincentís mother watched him go from a wiggling baby to flaccid pre-schooler. His ventilator sighed him to sleep at night and woke her in the morning. It was probably being the local poster child for Jerryís Kids that brought them the offer of the helper monkey. Vincent was thrilled! His mother? Not so sure. Especially when she saw the electrodes peeking out from the fur.

ĒThis is Princess,Ē the technician said, making a circle around the top of his head.

That was when Vincentís mother found out just what kind of help the monkey was to give. She said, ďNo.Ē
04/15 Direct Link
In matters of quality of life, the decisions had always been Vincentís, so his mother added electrode tending to his daily care routine. As Princess learned to use her ďcrownĒ to interact with his video games, Vincent learned to interact with the phalanx of electrical devices that supported him.

By the time he had needed the speech simulator Princess had been succeeded by Dianaówhoíd learned how to type, and Diana by Elizabeth and Victoria, who together managed Open Office.

The only videogames he played now were the ones he thought would get him a seat on the space shuttle.
04/16 Direct Link
It was really windy today. How do I know? Itís on the news. Never mind that I was out in it this morning. It seems that itís not truly ďrealĒ unless some talking head gets really excited about it and has lots of pictures and diagrams to emphasize its importance. My sinuses are so dry they hurt. My skin is itchy from all the crap blowing against it. My eyes feel like Iíve rubbed them with sand.

On the other handÖ The trees danced voluptuously in it. The sky went naked for a while, reveling in its cloudlessness between storms.
04/17 Direct Link
The answer to Life, the Universe and Everything is Jackie Robinson. What Don Imus should have said. Unresolved beginnings. He is the conflict and desire of story. Darkness gracing the spotlight. Pastoral vision. There neednít be any other question.

OK. Thereís, ďWhoís on first?Ē

ďI donít know.Ē

ďThird base.Ē

I donít know much about the man except what Iíve read in brief captions. I know more about Douglas Adams. Iím not into sports. I donít uphold the race in any particular way, except through the integrity of being me. I guess thatís all there is to know about him, huh.
04/18 Direct Link
I shed tears today at finding out someone I had known only briefly, had died. The tears surprised me. I havenít cried for the death of anyone before: itís not in me. My mother, brothers, and father have all died and I felt only the correctness of life ending, nothing emotional. This leaving affected me, though.

He was the first shaman--a kahuna--I had ever met. Only in his absence do I recognize what he gave me at that meeting over twenty years ago. He confirmed my actions and ideas as none other has done since.

I am grateful.
04/19 Direct Link
Strategy. This is not a word that I would normally associate with me. I think of strategy playing games so that someone else loses. Since Iím not good at playing those kinds of games, Iím the one who usually loses. Today, it occurred to me that by not engaging the greater concept of strategy, Iím losing in a much larger game.

Iím building a project in electronics and I donít have a strategy for approaching the process. In other words, I donít have a plan of action. I barely know what questions to ask, or of whom to ask them.
04/20 Direct Link
Youíre not the boss of me, but my life would be easier if I had you to blame for the things I donít like about myself.

I could blame you for my wanting to be drunk right now and eating a box of graham crackers instead. I could blame you for my spending as much money as possible, in as short a time as possible, whether I have it to spend or not. I could blame you for lying to people about stealing their time.

Taking responsibility for myself could be a harder process... if I had you to blame.
04/21 Direct Link
I was watching a show about daVinci and recognized myself in it. Not the brilliance of the man, but the inability to finish things, the constant barrage of ideas that seem to push and shove each other out of the way to move themselves forward.

Now, I feel a little bit depressed, a little bit helpless. What does it take to feel sorted out? How did Leo do it?

Probably by finally falling into something that dragged him so completely into itself that he couldnít stop till it was done. How do I find that for myself?

I need help.
04/22 Direct Link
Iím listening to Austin City Limits because John Prine is on. I love listening to him sing. Itís not just the mischief in his voice when he sings. Itís also the mischief in the songs themselves. Since I donít own too many recordings of any kind, other than stories, I canít quote him directly. But, you gotta consider that, a song that ends with ďthings in the mirror are closer than they appear to beĒ is a little mischievous.

Maybe someone else would say he has a wry sense of humor. That person wouldnít be looking at him.

Look closer.
04/23 Direct Link
Iím beginning to feel the empty writing bucket. Iím reaching down and thereís nothing there to pull up. Nothing special anyway. L

I usually feel a kind of joy, anticipation, when I sit down to write the dayís hundred. Not this time. Weíre over the halfway mark, so I guess this is about par for the hole, if not the course. Iíve got paperwork to finish that I donít have the energy for either. Probably because I left it till, not the last minute, but the minute before lastÖ if that makes any sense at all.

Procrastination empties buckets really fast.
04/24 Direct Link
I think of myself a lot. Evidently, not in the right way. I don't take my true self, my core selves, seriously. I give me lipservice, but not commitment. I do the 'tricks' --see blue feathers, vanish clouds --but not as the complete self that performs these actions as tasks of transformation.

I need to take being me as seriously as I am taking writing. I need to reach out to Huna the same way I reached out to technical writing: for the strength and structure of simplicity.

My writing has improved tremendously. Let me do the same.
04/25 Direct Link
Do you have days when your heart feels so overloaded that you can hardly move? Today has been one of those days. I donít think itís really an overload, though. I think itís the weight of unaccustomed movement. Iím taking steps to be more committed to my beliefs and the behaviors that support them. This extra effort creates inner movement, requires the body to respond differently, to move or hold back in a different rhythm.

Itís no wonder people resist change. Even when we are not as attentive as this, we know our bodies are going to go through hell.
04/26 Direct Link
Iím feeling the effects of greed in the world. I overdrew my bank account today. OK. So, to take responsibility I should be saying ďThe reflection of my greed in the world finally got my attention.Ē Yeah, thatís better. Thatís the truth.

I have been bemoaning how badly off people are because more and more companies are putting profits before people. I moaned and groaned without once looking into the face of it and seeing my own financial behavior mirrored there. Eventually, I will learn to hear myself.

Meanwhile, I am taking the steps I need to make myself right.
04/27 Direct Link
On the thank you card she wrote, ďYouíre family.Ē

My first thought was, there goes that foster child place again. With my second thought, the truth of the situation surprised me. OK, so there might be a wounding there, a longing for family that seems to call people to me, to be family to me.

I wonít deny that Iím lonely for it, that I sometimes despair for the loss of it. But that opening also allows people to feel family with me in circumstances that would otherwise be awkward, invasive, threatening.

My wound allows us to make molecular family.
04/28 Direct Link
You know how, when you find a new word, you keep seeing it everywhere? Well, investigating tessellations has been like that. Only with a new word, itís only new to you. Itís ancient history to most everyone else.

This incarnation of tessellation investigation has not been like that.

Tessellations are identical geometric figures that fit together without gaps to cover a surface. They can be single geometric shapes like squares. Or they can be complex, combinations of triangles and squares, straight lines and curves. Jigsaw puzzles are a kind of tessellation.

Synchronicities are another kind, composed of the present moment.
04/29 Direct Link
Itís interesting to show yourself as you are and feel the other pull away in disappointment. How does one accept that separation? Expectations run high, flooding sense and stability.

We listen with that part of ourselves that knows already what the outcome will be. The part that listens to the corresponding part of the other. It doesnít tell us the conversationís content outright. It waits, and at just the right moment, it suggests an action. In hindsight, that action will have been the right one, the one that brings to the surface all that was pressed down beneath.

Try again.
04/30 Direct Link
Letting out fear leaves much more room for what is better. Letting go with one hand and grasping with the other doesnít balance things out, not really. Iíve got to let go with my whole self, accept the emptiness and feel the pleasure of that. Be fully in the presence of this other self remade.

Iím a den mother now. Thatís the best description of how I feel among my ďpeepsĒ that Iíve heard. I even get to have ďbadgersĒ! Iíve always wanted badges, but without the culture of the scouting thing. My first badge will be for State Fair.