Received/Replied

Email received:

I am the swimmer who can't swim!!
I am the driver that can't find the road!!
I am the jumper who can't jump!!
I am the seer that can't see!!
I am the seeker who can't find!!
But worst of all!! I am the man with out you!!

My reply:

If you can't swim, walk.
If you can't find the road, follow the stars.
If you can't jump, hop.
If you can't see, listen.
If you can't find, know.
And best of all, if you are the man without me,
Then find the woman without you...
She's closer than you think....

Blessed be.

Muses on Runcible Spoons

Edward Lear's best-known poem, The Owl and the Pussycat, published in 1871, includes the passage

They dined on mince and slices of quince,
which they ate with a runcible spoon.

Another mention of this piece of cutlery appears in the alphabetical illustrations Twenty-Six Nonsense Rhymes and Pictures. Its entry for "D" reads

The Dolomphious Duck,
who caught Spotted Frogs for her dinner
with a Runcible Spoon

Lear does not appear to have had any firm idea of what the word "runcible" means. His whimsical nonsense verse celebrates words primarily for their sound, and a specific definition is not needed to appreciate his work. However, since the 1920s (several decades after Lear's death), modern dictionaries have generally defined a runcible spoon to be a fork with three prongs, such as a pickle fork, which is curved like a spoon, and also has a cutting edge. It should be noted that this definition is not consistent with Lear's drawing of a "runcible spoon", mentioned above, nor does it account for the other "runcible" objects in Lear's poems.

* Scroobious is an adjective which he applied to people in some of his verses, including the unfinished "Scroobious Pip." It seems to imply disapproval of their conduct, although the Pip is "the wisest" of whatever sort of beast he may be. It may be a pseudo-Latin derivative of screwball. The word has since been used by other people.

See also

* spork

Which is your favorite word: Runcible, Scroobius or Spork?

Bedside Reading

I don't feel happy unless i have a big stack of books by my bed. I tend to buy three at a time, and usually read one fiction and one nonfiction, plus a journal concurrently.

Right now there is:
Sex Matters: From Sex to Superconsciousness by Osho
Red Thunder & Red Lightning by John Varley
Pillow: Exploring the Heart of Eros by Lily Pond
The Tale of Tom Kitten by Beatrix Potter
Complete Sonnets by William Shakespeare
The True Game by Sher S. Tepper
The Wee Free Men by Terry Pratchett

What books are by your bedside table?

Talking to myself

“Blessed are we who can laugh at ourselves for we will never cease to be amused.” - anon

Some things I know about myself:
I am self reliant, self sufficient, and self supported.
I am self employed - I get to choose my OWN eighty hours a week.
I am self disciplined, extremely organized & efficient.
I have self worth, self respect, and self esteem.
I self pleasure, I am self satisfied, I am self contained.
I am self actualized, self fulfilled, and self regenerating.
I am frickin' lonely.

Years ago, in one of those true, new age hippy dippy santa cruz crunchy granola moments, I decided to marry myself. I loved my boyfriend dearly, but realized at some point we were never going to hear those wedding bells.

So I wrote some lovely vows to myself, bought myself a beautiful, expensive diamond & opal ring set in white gold, went to the ocean for a ritual with myself, and witnessed myself promising to love myself.

Well, time went on & I realized I was pretty bored with myself. Not wanting to cheat on aforementioned boyfriend, I decided to have an affair with myself. Every time he took a shower, I reached for the hitachi. Ditto when he mowed the lawn. It got to the point when my affair was taking over my life, and I caught myself sneaking off at parties to do myself in the bathroom.

Of course, once I stopped putting energy into my real relationship... well, that’s another story. So I found myself by myself, feeling all lonely and bitter, and wondering why I was single. Then it occurred to me - I wasn’t available! I was still always with myself!

So I divorced myself. Yep, went back down to the ocean, thanked myself for all the wonderful gifts from the relationship with myself, and chucked that expensive-ass diamond ring into the ocean. I still wonder who will it find it.

I love myself and I’m still best friends with myself, in fact, right now, I’m going to go play with myself. If you don’t think I’m a complete kook, come play with me sometime... I’m finally free!

After shock

Last night

you asked me
why I cried

Heaving naked sobs
against your chest

What can I say
except

After the earthquake
Tsunami

Sooner or Later

Sooner or later a person begins to notice that everything that happens to her is perfect, relates directly to who she is, had to happen, was meant to happen, plays its little role in fulfilling her destiny.

When she encounters difficulty, it no longer occurs to her to complain—she has learned to expect nothing, has learned that loss and frustration are a part of life, and come at their proper time—instead she asks herself, why is this happening?… by which she means, what can I learn from this, how will it strengthen me, make me more aware? She lets herself be strengthened, lets herself grow, just as she lets herself relax and enjoy (and grow) when life is gentle to her.

Strengthened by this simple notion, simple awareness, that life is perfect, that all things come at the proper moment and that she is always the perfect person for the situation she finds herself in, a person begins to feel more and more in tune with her inner nature, begins to find it easier and easier to do what she knows is right. All chance events appear to her to be intended; all intentional actions she clearly perceives as part of the workings of Chance.

Anxiety seldom troubles her; she knows her death will come at its proper moment; she knows her actions are right and therefore whatever comes to pass as a result of them will be what was meant to happen. When she does feel anxiety, she realizes it is because of that thing she’s been meaning to do but hasn’t been done, some unfulfilled relationship she’s been aware of, but… She perceives the anxiety as a message that she’ll have to stop hesitating if she wants to stay high…

(author unknown)

First Response

Wow.

I just got back from a trippy experience. I took my kid out to dinner at our favorite restaurant. Each with our book, we ordered our usual artichokes, spinach salad & chicken nuggles. Out of the blue, quite calmly and in a low voice, a woman said, "Call 911 - Please call 911".

I looked up & saw an elderly gentleman slumped in his chair. I walked up & said I knew CPR and reached for his throat pulse, finding none. I looked at the lady next to him, who was clearly terrified. "We need to get him onto the ground."

I put my arms around his shoulders and he slipped hard onto the floor, first his tailbone, then his back. Suddenly his eyes flew open & he started speaking in French. Since he was clearly breathing, I knew I didn't have to do mouth to mouth, just stay present. I looked in his eyes & rubbed in back, murmuring in French that he was going to be all right, everything was fine.

He started gagging and I called the waiter to bring a bowl, anything. The poor guy started barfing beyond belief, and I just continued to baby him. I looked up to see my kid across the room, watching with big round eyes.

The paramedics came in and took over. I went back to my table, pretty damn shaken. Thank goodness I took CPR this summer. Thank goodness I happen to speak a little french. "Are you okay?" I asked my kid.

Clinging to my arm for just a moment, all she said was, "You're my hero."

Wow.