Slow

I saw a little rabbit in my neighborhood on my way home yesterday. It was dark, but there it was. I had Thai noodles from the Kroger deli. I don't even like Thai noodles. I usually forget that it means, at least here in the U.S., that it has peanut butter in it. It has been a long, slow vacation. This week, being the parent of a teenager stings a little bit, for all of us in the house. I want to do the right thing.

Again

What is it about repetition that makes us who we are, or who we are not? Do we repeat the same mistakes because we have to? Our brains know no other way? We haven't learned the lessons that our pasts have tried to teach us? We have more to learn from more mistakes? When will we change? When we want to? We all say the world is constantly changing. We also say that life repeats itself. A cycle of circles we live in. All are different, yet all are shaped the same. Make one circle, go around again. Trees grow this way. Seasons go this way. Birth, life and death go this way. Why do I want something better for myself, when repetition is life? How often is the word "again" used in a positive context?

Chance Passage

Yesterday I came across this part of "The Unbearable Lightness of Being," by Milan Kunder, which caused me to read it over a few times and think a little more: "Chance and chance alone has a message for us. Everything that occurs out of necessity, everything expected, repeated day in and day out, is mute. Only chance can speak to us. We read its message much as gypsies read the images made by coffee grounds at the bottom of a cup." Thanks, Mr. Kunder; when you're not extolling the virtues of womanizing (through Tomas), you're helping to enrich my day.
Post script: I've never talked to anyone about coffee grounds at the bottom of my cup. I thought I was the only one who tried to make sense out of the patterns.

What I Take

There was a brilliant, full rainbow on Christmas day at about 4 p.m. Our best gift! Our best Christmas ever! We had snow, sunshine and not-too-cold temperatures. We had family, we had friends, and we had great food. My friend gave me his i-Pod, the very i-Pod I found in the trunk of my car last March, full of amazing songs. I got to spend the night, Christmas night, at a president's house, with great and wonderful people, some of my very favorites.

So

Today I started reading The Unbearable Lightness of Being, which had been recommended by a friend who touts it as The Book He Would Have Wanted to Write Himself -- maybe the highest honor that can be bestowed upon a book. So far, I've read to about page 20 and it has made me feel so sad. The main character has so carefully constructed his life to have made no emotional attachments to women, and many affairs, with rules involved so that he does not become attached. He calls it the rule of threes: either be with a woman three times in what he calls rapid succession and then never see her again; or carefully schedule engagements with a woman so that at least three weeks pass by before each encounter. That is the story of the successful lothario/womanizer. I suspect the reason my friend likes this book is not directly related to this character's womanizing habits, but more based upon the quality of the introspection and placid analytical style this author has exhibited that I have observed so far. I perused through a few of this author's other books, and I find similar womanizing themes in at least one of them. I wondered what it's like to be inside the head of someone who has no feeling, no emotion, no attachment to women and creates this state of being on purpose. But to read about it makes me feel used, abused and kicked around. I don't like it. None of the qualities of the women being used must matter much to that person who seeks no emotional attachment. That's a horrible feeling. This is a problem I have with some of the other books I've read. And they have one thing in common. Male authors. They know this stuff.

Winter bliss

Today I've looked at hundreds of photos of snowy vistas. I know some people who know some other people who have great cameras, four-wheel drive vehicles, and like to ski. I wonder if I would be a skier if I could afford it. The fresh air, the exercise and the camaraderie seem exhilarating.

How to Fix Regret

Today I was going over in my head a small event that happened in July of 1993. A day of a seemingly carefully weighed decision happened that triggered more than a decade of regret. I was 20 years old. I had been dating someone for two weeks. I was blissfully happy and thought I had found an amazingly awesome person who had everything and offered everything I could ever want in someone. He was easygoing, funny, tall and good-looking. He had sparkly green eyes, beautiful hands, and liked everything I liked and his artistic nature was something I resonated with. I knew that after two weeks there was a lot more that I would want to get to know, but I loved what I knew so far. He wanted me to come with him to where he lived, 40 minutes away from my house. I was expecting an old friend to come and visit me then. He was traveling an hour and a half away. I left to be with the new guy to go to his house. The new guy told me if I waited for my old friend, I would never hear from him again (new guy). I tried to call my old friend and tell him I wasn't going to be home. I called and there was no answer. I left. I left a note. I thought about it and I didn't want to lose the new guy, or lose a chance to get to know the new guy better.
Later I realized this was the first of many control tactics the new guy would use to manipulate me. Later I realized how badly I treated my old friend. My old friend is still my friend, but probably still has not forgiven me for my utter inconsideration. At the time, when I apologized, he said that he was coming to town to visit another friend anyway, so it was no big deal. I don't know if it's true, but I do know that I still feel badly about it. If I could go back and change the past, this would be the one thing I would change. I would have stayed for my old friend. I would have picked up on the control tactic and made the new guy go back to his house by himself, no matter whether he would have talked to me ever again. I guess the question is how can this regret make me a better person? What can I do to make it better?

Saturday

Yesterday I went for a walk in the snow for about an hour. I got a phone call toward the end of my walk and I had trouble talking because my face was kinda frozen. Earlier that day I read through a cookbook and decided to make a few recipes from it, mostly involving baking. I bought ingredients for three of the recipes, plus a lot of other food, and ended up spending way too much at the store. I had to walk by some bubbly college students who were running the Salvation Army bucket outside the store. They were serenading everyone who walked by, including me.
The day before that I had a conversation with someone about another person who practices witchcraft, and it got me thinking about manipulation. Does the draw to become a witch attract people who like to manipulate people and things? But at the same time, does it involve peaceful interaction and respect of nature and mother earth above all else? Don't the two contradict each other? How to reconcile the desire to manipulate and the desire to live in harmony with all existence? I wonder.

Saturday

If not for John Cusack, 2012 would have been a miserable failure. It's just that I have something against disaster movies. One of my favorite parts is when some guy puts his hands on his face ("Home Alone"-style) and exclaims, "We're all going to die!"

Wednesday

Things are very quiet here. I made some chicken burgers and baked whole sweet potatoes. I took a walk. It rained a little on my walk but I had a hat and a raincoat. Things were very quiet outside. It's been hard at work. It's been quiet. It gets dark so early in the evening. I want to get this Wednesday over with.