Friday, January 8, 2010

shameful I know! continue a writing after one month of nothing with three small dots could be considered the height of temerity, however it is the easiest way to get the point ----aaaaargh!!!------really, no pun intended, across.

It feels important to me to complete the ideas in the writing I began about Thanksgiving in November.  I had begun to describe a feeling of being beset by a cloud of small problems as irritating as a mass of small bugs swarming one's sweaty face late on a summer day.  

Clearly, not all those matters were gnat size.  A few elephants and hippos were in that swarm as well.  They have not gone, continue somehow to try to fly up my nose, interestingly as the day nears its end, just like when I used to go camping.  I never did like camping and I do have a large nose, just to clear that matter up in your imagination.

Luckily, we humans have such a thing as perspective and the ability to modify and enlarge it.  Speaking from a neurological viewpoint, our ability to enlarge our perspective, thereby changing our value judgements about the events and circumstances in our lives and ultimately shifting our position emotionally is called neurological plasticity.
This term actually refers to a long term process in which the brain continues to prune and grow neuronal branches throughout the lifetime on the basis of experience, in a sense, thereby also shaping experience. 

As an artist I like circles and intellectually I can be quite fond of a circular argument that actually gets us somewhere, not unlike a wheel, so this idea has captivated me for some time now.

Perhaps you are thinking that by now, I have rambled so far afield even I cannot find my  way back again.  Just remember as you read the following, that should some misguided piece of intellectual flab be hanging loose here or there, you can get your own virtual duct tape and make thinkgs all pretty and smooth.     Here goes:

I like to take this big time, well granted research phenomenom and mix it up with ways to come to my own senses when I am lopping off pieces off my life with that sharpest of swords, known as SELF PITY.  Self Pity is a beautiful  knife.  She looks as light as a feather and when one looks at her one thinks  that the shining  and glistening color that is not just on the surface but goes deep into her must surely enter the colorless and faded thing that you have become.  She promises a glowing lightness of being as translucent as a sunset or better yet, the sweet freshness of a sunrise.

It is a lie and so I entered the Office of the charming Dr. Lee on a cold drizzly Seattle morning    with my left side useless and aching.  I thought,"Try to practice some grace.  When you have a stroke some of     it will     feel like this and experience is a  goog thing."

I went into an office with my favorite colors, windows with trees outside, easy eye access--my favorite! and found a rich thick stack of all manner of magazines.  New ones!!!! I was then offerred a water bottle and handed a list of things to check.  Of the 100 ailments listed, I only had  to make one mark!!  Not bad for 60 I thought and began to lay my shiny sword down.  Somehow, she was not as shiny now. (Taupe carpet, ya know)

During the exam, the lovely Dr. Lee asked me to push with my hands and arms against his as had as I could. I took a breath, pulled in those flabby abs, found a little chi and gave a push.  I surprised the young man.  Again, not bad for     60.  There is nothing serious or permanent   wrong with my shoulder/back.  The problem is getting used to sleeping with a full face mask from my sleep apnea machine.  A referral to physical therapy and when I came out the air was still cold and drizzly but oh, the smell of the pine needles!  How had it not been there before?

I just now realize, I must have left Self Pity behind in that office somewhere.  Good night.  Peace to all.  more to come. sopha davenport

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