Confessions of a massage therapist:

I have a client, a lovely lady. I have more than one client but I'm talking about this one today.

She has this GREAT BIG HUGE ENORMOUS ANCIENT BLACKHEAD on her back. Every time I see it I'm driven almost frantic by the desire to extirpate it, by force or by instrument, whatever it takes. I fear that someday I'll lose all self-control and grab it by the throat and squeeze.

It's been hours since she left and I'm still fraught.

Good energy, intentions, vibes, prayers - anything you care to send my way. Please.

And may I say, first of all, that I'm far from enchanted with Blogger's new publishing format. I rarely come here anymore. Maybe I have no right to complain, but for the love of the crows! Do I want to alert someone on Google so they'll notice me? I do not. Please don't ask me again.

When people notice me these days it seems to be in the strangest ways. Yesterday afternoon I was in the line-up at the grocery till with my few party supplies on the way into the city. An older man, probably in his late seventies, early eighties, queued up behind me, took a look at my stuff and sneered.

"You must be pretty goddamn lazy," he told me.

I was astonished. Usually they wait until at least the second date, you know?

"Pardon me?" You see how cutting I can be on the spur of the moment like that.

"You can't be bothered to whip your own goddamn cream? You have to buy it in a can?"

"I'm traveling to a party in the city!"

"Oh. Oh, okay then." And he proceeded to show me what he was buying, and grilled me on Ukrainian Christmas festive cooking, which test I failed miserably. Not only goddamn lazy, but goddamn ignorant too.

Just let me hide.

The last few days I've been thinking often of Jim. He meant a lot to me. Maybe he hooked into my sense of archetype. I certainly never thought it while he was alive, that he meant more to me than just being a person I cared for, but now I often feel like he's there behind the curtain, pushing things out for my consideration. There are things I never guessed at.

Even that I would think that he's there. How odd.

I can feel November pushing in. I can feeling myself sinking into the underworld of myself. There's a lot of darkness to explore. Jim, hold my hand.

He used to talk about his relationships, the freedom of it, the wildness. I didn't understand. I think I'm beginning to now. It's not all relentless summer, is it, sometimes it's gaping mouths and stolen breath and tears and blood on the ground. Obsession twisting through your guts. Sometimes you're driven to idiocy, and even while you watch yourself you're doing it again. Freak almighty.

I've had this thought for years, that basically the universe works for the benefit of all. This fall I just don't know. Maybe it is about power and grasping. Thanatos is in the driver's seat, and Eros is just along for the ride, checking her lipstick in the passenger mirror.

The Bigger Picture

As the kids got older, they resisted more and more having their pictures taken. And they certainly don't want them on a blog.

But tonight I wish I could take a picture. I'm pretty proud.

Mostly because they're my kids.

But particularly tonight because now they're both working "real" jobs. With gusto. And that's a beautiful thing at 14 and 15. I guess we didn't screw them up irreparably.

They're both doing manual labour, for different people. In both cases, because they'd been "checked out" while working at other jobs. I love these lessons. We've always told them that anything they're doing out and about gets noticed, but to have it come home like that is an excellent thing. They get it, for real.

And tonight I'm pretty proud. It's so cool to see your kids growing up and being so independent. Not that we want rid of them, but it's good to see that they can make it without you if and when they need or want to.

Did I mention that I'm feeling pretty proud?

DIY Washing Soda

I've been wanting to make my own laundry soap, but all the recipes call for "washing soda", which is rarer than hens' teeth in my part of the world.

But then, this! I found this instruction on how to make your own, and it couldn't be simpler. Hurrah!

We'll see if laundry soap makes it onto my to-do list this very busy weekend.

TTFN!

Just Back Up The Truck

I've decided that what I really want in life is everything.

I want to live in the country, and I want to be in the city. I want a practice that serves rural needs, and I want exposure to the wider demographic of urbania. I want to make money, and I want to spend serious time doing gratis work. I want chickens. I want art. I want room to be impulsive, and I want stability. I want to be a hands-on intellectual. I want to learn, hard, forever. I want sleep. I want clean windows. I want to love my little family, and run away from them on a regular basis too. I want to work with other people, and I want to work alone. I want to build my business. I want to spend time growing and cooking good food. I want friends. I want to stay home. I want to see more of the world. I want to know things in my gut. I want to fling myself willy-nilly into living.

I'm not settling down. It's just not happening. Yes, I'm tired, but I'm more tired when I just stop. I want some of EVERYTHING. Forget choosing one or the other. I choose it all.

There is a concept in Chinese medicine, and I can't pretend to really understand it much at all yet, of shaoyang, or a pivoting place. A door that opens and closes. Being able to transition from one thing to another smoothly. Well-oiled hinges. That's what I want. Smooth hinges. I want to go in, or out, and find pasture.

If you're shaoyang, just be shaoyang. Everyone else should be what they are too. But I need to choose to be what I actually am.

Whew. Glad I got that sorted around.