The Invitation. Oriah Mountain Dreamer.

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing. It doesn't interest me how old you are I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love for your dreams for the adventure of being alive. It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon... I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain mine or your own without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy mine or your own if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful be realistic to remember the limitations of being human. It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithful. and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure yours and mine and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes." It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children. It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back. It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.   © 1995 by Oriah House, From "Dreams Of Desire"

While It's On My Mind...

Pinterest and wedding photos on Facebook have me thinking and I just want to say it....
On my wedding day I don't want to look like Miss America. I don't want to feel like a Victoria's Secret model. I don't want to be unnatural with fake nail, fake lashes, fake hair, fake tan. I just want to look like me. The way I look. I want my soon-to-be husband to see me and think that I look like the girl he's always loved. The only thing that I want to be really different is that glow that people sometimes have. I want to be exuding happiness over what is about to take place [the wedding] in a way that people can physically see it. I want to be comfortable and relaxed and excited. I just don't see how people can walk down the aisle any other way.

Just a little reflection on myself today. Not gonna be so positive.

It sounds silly but every time I ride the bus. I'm ashamed of myself. Not for riding the bus, but for the way I react to the people on the bus. I'm never outwardly rude my my thoughts are unkind and I draw inward and want to be alone. TOday I found myself riding the bus with the usual crowd of college students some very well off and some who appeared to be barely making ends meet riding the bus to their part-time jobs.  It's always an interesting and kind of surreal experience to ride the bus. You see kids with parents paying thousands of dollars for their education playing on their iPads sitting just a few feet away from a 50 year old black man going to the food bank because he can't even feed himself. It kind of puts things in perspective when you think about which of though two people resemble most. 

I'm just ashamed of the thoughts that crossed my mind today. On my way back from the doctor there was a girl who was a little weird. She stood up pulled the stop request for the next stop as soon as I got on the bus. I sat down behind her as she leaned toward the front of the bus and cheerfully said to the driver "Te nect stop please!" despite the fact that a giant bell rings and an LED light board says in all caps STOP REQUEST and you know, the driver does this all day and he understands what the bell means.... I thought "chill barbie, a little eager today?" She was a really cute girl- smile, pretty face, cute outdoorsy Boone look to her outfit. She looked just like a regular person, but it took all of 5 seconds to understand that she was disabled. There was nothing physically wrong with her. She was articulate, had full nerve control and developed motor skills. But it was clear she didn't understand social cues at all. There were only about 5 people on the bus, total. she leaned toward the guy in front of her who had in earbuds (protip: if you want to avoid social interaction on the bus, headphones of some kind are generally your best bet) she loudly asked the guy: "what's your name?"

No response. 

"What's your name?"

He heard her this time, turned to face her, and handled the whole situation pretty well. "Alex" he said.

"Hi, Alex! I'm [whatsherface]! Where do you live?" 

My thoughts would have been "Cool, today is the day some one waits for me before I get home, kidnaps me, puts me in their basement so they can cut of my skin. Too bad that one's already a movie. I could have been famous." Then it dawned on me that something was wrong with her and I felt pretty bad. 

Her and the guy talked for a few more seconds before he put his headphones back in. Then she said to no one in particular, "I'm gonna catch up on TV today. I'm so exited." She was talking to no one in particular or all of us. The whole bus was sharing a bond of awkwardness, fear of something different, and a silent hope that we could to ignore the girl and that someone would engage her. It was maybe all of a minute and a half between the time I got on and the time she got off. As she left she said "Bye everyone!" No one even smiled at her. We all just didn't know what to do. It was so uncomfortable. 

The worst part is that after she said "Hi, Alex!" I panicked because I didn't want to talk and I thought maybe if I acted like I was asleep she would leave me alone. After reviewing all my options in my head in a timeframe of about .5 seconds, I decided to go with it. Every second that my eyes were closed I worried that the wasn't a solid tactic. She probably would have tried to wake me up so that I didn't miss my stop but I don't think she noticed me. 

It didn't take long after she got off for me to start feeling guilty. I was so afraid some spending a few seconds talking to someone a little different because I didn't know what to do. For all I know she was perfectly fine, she just didn't buy into social norms. I felt bad for assessing and sizing up every person on the bus. With in three seconds of seeing some of these people I determined who was old, poor, uneducated, dirty, dangerous etc.... 

I don't always have a problem with situations like that, I've spent plenty of time around people of every social level. I've been around the homeless, the dying, the mentally challenged. I've hung out with society's castouts and unwanteds and I've hung out with the well to do and swam in their backyard pools. I like to think I'm above treating people disrespectfully. But I'm not and it happens all the time. I often think how much better the world would be if everyone practiced a bit more kindness and consideration but today I was reminded of how difficult that is (even though it should be easy) and how far we fall short  every day.

Riding the bus is an experience. I should do it more often. 

*again I didn't proofread because I should be doing homework right now but I had to get that off my chest. 

*didn't feel like proofreading this so sorry if it's incomprehensible.
So anyone who know me knows how much I love dogs. I love them equally to people. I love them more than a lot of people. Call it a character flaw if you must but whatever. So here is the story of this past weekend and the new dog in my life.
On Sunday I went to a waterfall/rock colony with my friends. It was a nice day so there were at least 70 cars parked along the dirt road (rather the the usual total of zero cars parked there) and just as we got out there was a mass exodus of hippies and App students coming up the hill from the trail who told us to get back in the car because the police were towing every single car (for no good reason mind you, as it was in the middle of nowhere, people go here every year, and there are no signs barring one from parking where ever the eff they please). Now I'm not gonna tell this whole story but basically we got back in the car and tried to leave and were impaired in our quest to do so by several of the rudest, most inconsiderate, asshole cops I've ever met in my life, and 5 tow trucks, which poorly hitched cars to their trucks and dragged them down the dirt road at a diagonally, through ditches (nearly breaking axels) against tree stumps, rocks, and branches causing extreme damage to the paint. This left the hikers who didn't know they were being towed, stranded with no vehicle and no cell service, the hikers who were getting to their cars as the cops arrived were slapped with 230 dollar tickets. Ok so I did end up pretty much telling the whole story. But since we didn't get to go hiking we ending up going to a dam/swimming hole where you could jump off into the river. Well I did that because there were some very cute boys and they were flirting with us and I guess I was trying to look like a badass (it worked) [except] I almost drown because despite the boys claims that the water "wasn't cold at all"  it was. My body kind of went into shock and I could swim fine but I couldn't breathe. I'm prone to hyperventilating really badly when I cry hard enough and it takes me a long time to be able to control my breathing. Come to find out, I didn't jump out far enough and almost bashed my head on the rocks. In fact I was so close, that everyone who saw me jump thought that I died, until they saw me come out of the water. On the bright side, a bunch of cure boys were concerned for my safety and brought me a towel and shoes and told me I was awesome.
Fun day.
BUT WAIT? wasn't this story about a puppy?! Welllll....
when I got cell service again there were several missed called from the boyfriend. When I called back he said he had big news.

Meet Blue. This little guy is a six week old Blue Heeler puppy who was abandoned at a gas station between Damacus, VA and Mountain City, TN. Tyler planned on getting him some health care because Little Puppy's stomach was hugely swollen with worms and parasites. Tyler had no intentions of keeping him but he didn't stand a chance. As soon as he pulled into the gas station Blue came out from hiding under a car wagging his tail, looking right at him. Tyler had been planning on getting a dog for a while. He stayed the night at Tyler's [no pets allowed] apartment. Till we could take him to the vet Monday morning. Blue didn't want to do anything but be held by Tyler, not me or me roommate. He wanted to cuddle with Tyler and whined when he wasn't in his arms. We gave him a special bath of peroxide, baking soda and dish soap to make sure he didn't have fleas. The puppy cried so much. I think it was just cold and he was scared. But hearing his little guy cry nearly killed Tyler. We hadn't even named him because Tyler didn't want to get too attached in case the puppy was unhealthy and might die. Nonetheless, when the puppy cried, Tyler fought back tears HARD, he tried to hide his face so my roommate and I wouldn't see his red face, gritting his teeth (as if he were in physical pain), with tears in his eyes. 

We took the little guy to the vet as soon as they opened and after peeing on the exam table and having an unpleasant experience due to the number of things inserted in his butt without his permission, all the new puppy wanted to do was this:

                                        

He got his deworming meds and a clean bill of health. He wasn't running a fever, he wasn't dehydrated, he was eating and drinking well. Tyler's parents agreed to keep the puppy till he moved into his new place in August. We named him BlueDog, after LouDog, (or Louie) the icon of Sublime, the lead singer's dog. 

Tyler and Blue had been together for two days, and they were already best friends. I was grateful to have a best friend for Tyler that he could really love unconditionally to help with his anxiety and depression. The vacine shot they gave Blue at the vet made him really sleepy so the two of them just cuddled in the sunshine all day. 

And now the bad news: Tyler's mom called yesterday to tell him that Blue got sick. He has parvovirus. It's lethal. The odds used to be pretty bad and 9 out of 10 dogs with parvo would die. But within the last couple years it's gotten better. The vet in Bristol said blue had a 70% chance of survival. But Tyler has notoriously bad luck. He's terrified that he'll lose his new best friend. Blue has to stay at the vet for 3 to 6 days because the infected animals will often take a step forward and two steps back. It can come back after it appears to be under control. Tyler spent last night crying his eyes out. I'm spending today writing a six page paper for him before 4 o'clock. The paper is about responsible pet ownership. He tried to do it last night but as you would imagine he was too torn up, so I offered. Here's hoping little Blue makes it. He's doing well today but we'll see. 

So that was my week. Off to class and the library to write this thing. Hopefully I'll find time to eat real food that isn't terrible for me. 

Ok, So I'm sitting here watching Parks and Recreation* so please be understanding if this post doesn't make any sense. Tonight I've eaten bagel bites and a pop tart for dinner, as I have been having some weird cravings so I'm not exactly on top of things. So much for that beach body. Which I don't understand why I was even trying to attain because I'M NOT EFFING GOING TO THE BEACH THIS SUMMER. Oh but my parents are. Without me. Anyway here are some thoughts I had a while ago.

These are just some wildflowers in a field. I saw this field just dense with these things and I had to stop and take a picture.  I absolutely love yellow flowers. Whether they're bold, purposely placed daffodils in a vase or delicate, faint weeds in some overgrown grass. I almost ran off the road a few times staring at these because it's just this dainty little blanket of yellow spread out across this tall green grass and it is such a beautiful testament to spring and the warm weather. I've never even liked spring as a season. Allergies and rain and crap. But I guess I look at it now as a prelude to summer and soon there will be trips to the drive-in theater and the lake and late nights and shitty music on the radio. Another thing about images like this is that they remind me of The Creator. I've rarely been to church at all since August. It's an uncomfortable feeling. I desperately want my faith and I'll cling to it with everything I have but it's facing some pretty string opposition. I don't think that I could ever doubt the existence of a creator though. And in the face of awe-inspiring nature, it seems as though creation is deeply cared for and loved. If a few weeds can paint a hillside with their color and be considered beautiful then maybe I can find beauty in other things as well. I'll try to remember this blanket of yellow when a blanket of yellow pollen covers my car, stops up my nose and makes me curse nature.

sidebar: I just realized that's spelled like re-creation. Huh. Waddya know.

Here We Go...

I've tried to blog before, but I've always been terrible at keeping journals and such so we'll see how I do this go 'round. I have titled this blog "Miracle of Consciousness", a) because every other URL I wanted was taken and b) because I am a nerd and when in doubt I quote John Green: "Life is about engaging as deeply as possible in the miracle of human consciousness".  It is my intention to fill this blog with positive grateful posts, because life is too short, and we are given too much to act like the whiny little bitches we are. I had a tumblr once and (as tumblrs so often are) it was filled with sad and angry posts (it was used as my emotional dumping ground) so I got rid of that whole mess. I hope this blog improves my writing skills as well because it is among my secret fantasies to be a writer alas I suck at writing. When I read Ernest Hemmingway and Sylvia Plath and F. Scott Fitzgerald and  T.S. Eliot and Virginia Wolfe and E.E. Cummings and Henry David Thoreau I can't help but be overcome with awe and envy. I so badly to compose a sentence so beautiful that one must read it slowly. I want to make a sentence that makes you feel like you are sitting alone in the sunlight in a quite place. I can't describe how I feel when I read one of *those* sentences but I know it when I feel it. I absolutely love the written word.
So here is where I will store my attempt at uplifting paragraphs to remind myself that I am given the gift of human consciousness and I will try to put some [poetic?] words together to do it justice.