Category Archives: emotion

The Power of Two Realities

20140314-132717.jpgOne particular night, I lay writhing in pain and in fear of the baby in my belly. It seemed to have “slipped” into a position that I knew was wrong, as if a stiff brick were lodged in my right side. It felt foreign, unconnected to my body, like an object wedged between thick layers of skin, and in a way it was foreign. It was my sister’s baby, not my own. You see, she couldn’t carry a baby and since I could, or thought I could, I did what any sister would do given the situation.

So there I lay, with this stiff brick-baby in the wrong part of my belly, writhing and fearful. I cried and cried. My pain wasn’t taken seriously, not by doctors, not by anyone. Maybe it wasn’t painful enough. I wondered how high the pain would escalate before someone would intervene.

On cold nights, I find refuge in my guest bedroom where I share a small bed, symbiotically, with my giant bulldog. He loves the company, I love to be warm. We begin in a sweet cuddle, his body curled and his heavy head resting sincerely in the crook of my legs. Within minutes he snores like an old drunken sailor and sprawls across the bed with his nethers far too close for comfort. Too big to move, I endure, for the sake of warmth.

On this particular night, when I lay writhing and fearful, crying and crying, I woke to the feeling of two giant bulldog legs lodged into my right side. They were kicking and running in their sleep, kicking and running into my belly.

The absurdity, the relief, the questions…

The kicking didn’t hurt, but in my dream, it produced anguish, fear, physical pain, disconnect, desperation. A physical outside force entered my body and caused it harm. I let my sister down, I failed, my physical body was incapable, I was desperately alone, yet, when in a split second those deep emotions were replaced with the sweet, sweet touch of a bulldog’s paw. He finished his run, stretched, and snored away like an old, drunken sailor. I lay there wondering how such a simple paw could do so much. I wondered if anything is really as bad, or as good, as it seems.

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Paint in White

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I painted this using a pocketknife and white paint on white paper, in very dim light. Its inspiration was a suffocating, grey, bitter cold day not unlike the long stretch of days prior to it. In an effort to find beauty somewhere, anywhere, I extended my mobile phone out of my front door and captured an image. This one:

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I chose white because white can be terrifying, and I needed to feel something, anything, amidst the dismal winter. I used a pocketknife because it was near and I couldn’t be bothered to search for a brush. Chipping away at this tree, scraping paint, and building texture, I remember losing myself in the cello and Radiohead and then the cello again. Had the day been filled with yellow sun and blue skies, I wouldn’t have learned the beauty of white on a bitter grey day.

I keep this painting displayed alone on the large grey wall of my office to remind me how to manipulate what is near and transform it into something beautiful. It teaches me to just sit back and absorb the everyday.

Choices, Choices!

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I sit here, at a desk, typing about choices. Why do I type and why haven’t I chosen to walk to the shed, gather an axe, and work at felling the evergreen across the street? Why am I not strumming a banjo? Why aren’t I honing a furniture-making skill? Stealing money from an unsuspecting victim? Painting a woman’s fingernails? Painting a red tree with fingernails as leaves? Painting my portrait? Painting your portrait? I could paint your portrait, all you have to do is ask. Painting your portrait with spray paint on the street? Painting “I love broccoli” in Hindu on the street. Or on my house. On a man’s fingernails. On broccoli.

Sit still for this one moment and consider what you are doing. Are you sitting, standing, wearing a skirt, chewing tobacco, tapping your fingers, rolling your eyes at my words, eating jellybeans? Now, think about the trillions of other possibilities that exist, that you could choose to do, right now. You’ll blow your own mind.

Who Are You? A Little Monday Introspection

Sit back and take a few minutes for yourself:

What sort of person did you expect you would be? Have you become that person? In what ways are you different than expected?