No Man or Woman is an Island

I have heard this saying before.  Sounds reasonable in theory.  If it were a multiplication problem I would round the bigger number and multiply for a product.  But sometimes life is not reasonable or even fair.

Today I guided students through the creation of a time line documenting sequenced events from a play called “Grace and the Time Machine.”  We made original time lines on blue oaktag.  Took turns drawing conclusions in a oaktag-freeze tag kind of way.  Like….tag you’re it! Where did the children travel to next?  The premise of the piece was: A time machine is a useful invention.  Of course this play was a fantasy. What criteria must a time machine meet?

A time machine is something that has not YET been created.

A time machine can be a useful invention.

A time machine can be fun.

A time machine can bring miracles.

During this play, childhood friends collaborate in building an imaginary time machine out of  junk from home.  Then they take turns in navigating to imaginary locations.  They visit a future civilization of dangerous robots.  The flee to the past where they encountered dinosaurs.  Then to the Gambia, Trinidad, and more.  An elderly neighbor gets wind of what the kids are doing.  Takes some serious risks and joins in the imaginary fun.  A miracle occurs of seagull porportion.  I wish i had a miracle in my life and some peptobismol.

Today felt a lot like being on an island, only my island was NOT a tropical one.   More like a “Hell froze over” one with me preserved in fossilized ICE form. I have decided…….I don’t like being disconnected….and I don’t like seeing empty egg cartons anymore. Also, I am now wondering if I am on the autistic spectrum, because I make soooooo many right brain associations in seeing metaphores everywhere.  I used to think I was kind of special, or unique in having a gift.  Now I just don’t know.  Just feel lonely with myself and my thoughts and this blog.  No answers.  There is a Jack Jackman song, “Being alone is Better With You.”  I still subscribe to this sentiment……although I my never live it now that I am in rehab.

Today was also sad because Chance and his  little sisters, and mom have moved to Heber. Maybe my friend in Heber can keep an eye on the Herdmans now.  Maybe the Wasatch Fire Department will supply donuts.  Maybe there will be smoking in the LDS Church. I wouldn’t mind going to the LDS Church if I could go with the Herdmans.

I did not swim at swim team.  I probably should have.  I would have felt better.

Just soooooooo exhausted.  Keep falling asleep in typing even now.  Even so, I am having beautiful half day dreams.  Writing a blog in this condition is a lot like DROWSY DRIVING.  You might type something you would NOT NORMALLY TYPE.  This is my story and I’m sticking with it.

One of today’s beautiful day dreams was of writing our class Opera together.  Nice email from Pamela Gee, OBC.  This was the redeeming grace of the day….and all this time I just thought I was a burr in the socks of OBC and Pamela.  All this time I have really been just too headstrong……and people are…….really pretty nice.  I am going to guide the writing process with more fidelity and give the kids more ownership…..releasing responsibility more to them.  Somehow.  Love is letting go and holding on at the same time.  I don’t let go well.  I love holding on.  Hugging.

The Indians were restless.  According to the change in weather, children are on the move and brewing trouble with Cirrus clouds and storms coming.  I was hoping it would warm. Maybe it will and we’ll have sun and a wonderful basketball game tomorrow, and a full sun Saturday and Sunday.  I HOPE SO!!!  Oh yes, and for the sake of the “Football Game.”

I got home at about 5:30……exhausted…….but changed clothes anyway and took the dogs to the Spillway in the dark. Last night, or early this morning thought I heard the pack of coyotes down in the field.  Quite expected to run into them on the shadowy back road dog romp. Heard the Narnian painted pony hoofing it and huffing in the shadows, out of sight.

I set out with both dogs and a heavy head lamp.  This not wise, but took the risk anyway. Running was a sixth sense.  Rendered quite blind in the Daylight Savings.  Only by 5:30 or 6:00 p.m. one feels penniless under a quarter moon.  No spare change.  No visibility.

The dark affords benefits and disadvantages.  An advantage to the runner, in that one has no distance perception.  Dangerous in tripping on a dog or horse biscut; or rolling an ankle.  Thank goodness I know this route by heart. Still might hurt myself though.  Scary.

Although I am sure footed,  I am still very careful.  Benefit in that one can not see distance, so one can not tell how far or how tired one should feel. How far is far? What is tired now that I can’t see?  Realize unmeasurable things are NOT A PROBLEM.  Nice!  One just goes until you get there. Sort of like writing a Liberetto.

But running in the dark with dogs is dangerous too!  Dangerous in that in spite of following the bouncing light ball, I still did not know the familiar karioki song playing on the game sytem.  Had to dig down to find MUSCLE memory on a moving chess board. I fell down once coming back down “Deer Bone” hill, crunching bones under foot.  Just glad I didn’t palm a prickly pear.

The dogs kept circling back, nipping at me,  and jumping up joyously.  I wish I had their night vision, their dexterity, their adeptness.  The bounded, and splashed at Mermaid Cove in full glory and sensory hightendness, while I lived my limitations.

When I wasn’t worried about stepping in a pot gut hole and breaking my ankle, I followed the bouncing ball, and listened to someone sing along the Apain Way.  If there had been more of a moon and clearer skies, I would have been able to see the moon on the water.  No such luck.

Across the valley light polution on the mountain sides.  Rockport Estates, Bridge Hollow, the State Road Shed, The Rafter Bee, Bates Land and Livestock.  Still the Wanship Cemetary was dark.  Those souls, the only ones in deep REMing sleep, so it seemed. Awake were the living.  Awake were the Kamas commuters.  They seemed to boast to me in their dimming and brighting their headlights.  This a kind of sinus wave of cyclical damnation and salvation, over and over again.  Only these mechanical vehicles suffered no pain in the process.  Hardly fair, I think.

I am an island.  I am alone most of the time now……whether I am by myself, or whether I am with others.  I am empty.  Hollow.  A scattered and lost child.  I need to change my thinking, I think.  Or maybe, I just need to sleep and dream a new dream.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz     Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz   I do not like this diconnectedness in my awakening at all.  My throat chakra bothering me today.  MUST MEAN I NEED TO CLEAR IT BY SHARING TRUTH.  But how to do this with the people I need to speak truth with most?

Spoke with Che’ for an hour.  Fun.  Beneficial.  But not the cure.  I pray for answers.  These fall silent like snowflakes and melt.

In my mind, I clip up my clip it sticky picture magnet to “Ready to Learn” again.  Tomorrow is a new clean white board slate.  I am grateful for this.


About hrobertson2013

“Each man ( and mermaid) will be like a shelter from the wind and a refuge from the storm, like streams of water in the desert and the shadow of a great rock in a thirsty land”. Isa 32:2 NIV Warning: The author of this blog is not an ordinary individual. Even Mermaids need a rest from all that's real and grown up. Welcome to the wonder of blog. Come be audience to all that's wet and wild in her stories, poems and thoughts. Instructor by day, super hero by night, and mystical mermaid by summer. Whenever she has the fortune of diving into a pond, reservoir, or mountain waterfall, you'll find her there swimming, and singing songs of life.
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