I Want to Scream

I want to scream
But not just any scream
A blood curdling scream
I want to scream a blood curdling scream
The kind of scream that would make people wonder,
come running, rushing to check on me,
or even call 911
But that's the last thing I want,
to disturb and so then be disturbed,
interrupted
And not wanting that interruption,
not wanting to disturb others resulting in them disturbing me,
interrupting my process,
trying to silence my expression,
or unintentionally doing so without trying,
just simply by their presence--
all of that keeps me from screaming how I want to scream, keeps me from screaming at all.
Yesterday morning I wanted to cry,
and wave my fists in the air
along with a toddler who was crying.
Why can't I throw a tantrum?
Just because I'm bigger than you?
That's what I asked, and that made me laugh. But
really I wanted to cry.

* * *

I'm surprised that that's what I just wrote. I wrote it in the "Notes" of my iPod while lying in bed, unable to fall asleep. And then I got out of bed to post it here. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised. There's been a whirlwind of activity and changes lately, all good, but it's a lot. Lots of positive stresses. And yes, sometimes I want to scream. The thing is, what I wrote above isn't just about that. It actually started with bumping my head before getting into bed, and while doing some self-care energy work/craniosacral on it, some thoughts, memories and feelings around the car accident I was in in '96 got stirred up. I basically self-induced a somatoemotional release which lead to some crying and then this urge to scream, but thinking I better not at midnight in my shared housing arrangement, and then those words above started coming. It amazes me how after all these years, stuff just keeps coming up around the car accident. Less and less over the years for sure. But I wonder tonight, will it ever end? Or is it just the gift that keeps on giving? And I mean that sincerely, when I use the word "gift." Perhaps more on that, another time....

© 2012 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Blame it on Mercury Retrograde

Yeah, that works for me.

And since it's not quite over yet, I can't really write much more than that even though in my head I thought I had plenty more to write. So thanks a lot, Mercury. Thanks for making it so difficult to communicate lately. And thanks for being such an awesome scapegoat! You rock.

 

© 2012 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Did I Forget to Wear Pants Again?

I'm not so sure I've ever told anyone this. I have a vague memory of mentioning it to someone once, but I don't know....

For the past few years, I've often found myself in these situations where I leave home to go somewhere and within about less than 20 seconds of getting out of my car and walking away from it, I very suddenly have to look down to make sure I'm wearing pants.

It's weird, because it's not even like I've been at home pant-less right before going out. At least not usually. So I don't really know what this is all about. Is it like one of those dreams where you're in school and suddenly realize that you're naked? Maybe. But this is not a dream, and I'm actually not naked or half-naked. I have never looked down to discover that I have indeed forgotten to wear pants. I have gone out intentionally without pants, but that's a whole other story, one I should get back to working on in one of those books in progress....

So all I'll say more about this for now is that tonight it seemed to come from the fact that I'd just spent all day today and yesterday sitting cross-legged on the floor, and so tonight walking around in the grocery store brought some extra attention to my legs, as they felt somewhat foreign in this upright position doing this thing called "walking." The truth is, this looking down to make sure I'm wearing pants thing hasn't even happened much recently, but it used to happen pretty often, and I had a few theories about it.

One was that I really would prefer to be pantless. I'd prefer to be living at a nudist camp-- no, actually I'd prefer that there was no need to go somewhere "special" but rather that everywhere was "clothing optional." Perhaps with some rules to help with public health concerns. I know it would be a distraction at first, but if you've never been somewhere clothing optional for a good amount of time (and the locker room doesn't really count), you'd be amazed by how quickly you get over it and get used to it.

Another theory was that I was spending so much time alone at home, just lounging around in comfy clothes, or no clothes at all, that even though of course I got dressed before going out, it would take me a while to realize that I had clothes on? Or maybe because of feeling so disconnected from my legs; that would explain why it doesn't happen as much now; I'm more connected. I don't know though. It's hard to explain....

The third thing that came up for me around this was that sometimes I'd look down only after somebody else looked at me, as if it were out of self-consciousness. Somebody would look at me, and I'd think, "oh crap, did I forget to wear pants?!" Then I'd look down, see my pants, and laugh at myself. And then that would make people look at me even more. But by then I knew I was wearing pants, so it didn't matter; I knew they were looking at me because who goes around just laughing out loud unless they're with somebody or on the phone? Just that crazy girl who has lost her sense of whether or not she's wearing pants.

© 2012 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Losing Faith, Hope, Love

 

I thought I'd lost this ring I'd been wearing nearly every day for 3 1/2 months. I bought it in Surrey, British Columbia during a Sheng Zhen Gong teacher training in July. The combination of the words and the way the ring felt on my right index finger was just perfect. Comforting. And great reminders.

Seeing these words each day was like a meditation, or affirmation of faith, hope, and love. And it sure seemed to be working some magic, by helping me have faith, remain hopeful, to give and receive love freely, and also to make love-based rather than fear-based choices. It generally just had a really good affect.

And when I traveled from Austin to Seattle at the beginning of November, I didn't have this ring with me, and even thought I may have lost it. I still felt like I was wearing it though. I could feel it physically even though it wasn't there. And I could feel its messages, its power, even though the ring was nowhere to be found. I had a couple of other rings with me, but couldn't put them on that same finger; it was already occupied by this phantom ring. And that was fine with me.

It did occur to me that I might find the ring upon returning to Austin, but I had this feeling like I'd left it on a bathroom counter-top at the Acupuncture school. Or maybe it was in one of my bags or a pocket. So I searched for it a bit when I returned to Austin, but didn't find it.

A few days passed, and just yesterday I was thinking about writing this blog entry about "losing faith, hope, and love." I was noticing that although I really loved that ring, I wasn't terribly bummed out about losing it. It seemed to have done the trick, ingraining those words into my consciousness, into my being. Maybe I lost the faith, hope and/or love a few times during those days without the ring, but not any more so than what could happen with it.

I was even feeling good about the possibility that someone may have found it somewhere, someone who needed it just as much as I had needed it right when it came into my life. I kind of liked the thought of this ring getting lost by the next person only to be found again by somebody else. 

I was having these thoughts as I walked back up to my room after a shower. And as soon as I finished getting dressed, I headed back towards the stairs, but first I grabbed my long-sleeved zip-up Sheng Zhen shirt with pockets. It was a chilly morning. And that's where I found it. My ring was in one of those pockets. Just waiting for me to come home, giving me some time on my own to realize I don't need it. And how beautiful that it returned to me just as soon as I was happy about the thought of it being with someone else, thinking about how good it would be for that other person. The meaning-maker in me really likes how the timing all worked out on this one. 

And I love it that I found this Faith, Hope, Love ring for the first time during a Sheng Zhen training, and for the second time in a Sheng Zhen pocket; Sheng Zhen Gong certainly has brought more faith, hope, and love into my life, both through the movements and the contemplations. 

So as I sit here typing this, I'm happy to look down periodically to see this ring shining back at me. But I know in my heart that I don't need this ring, or anything else really. I know what's most important. And although these external reminders are nice and can be helpful, they're not necessary. Turning inward in times that I forget, or lose these qualities, is all I need. Today in Master Li's Heaven Earth Gong workshop he explained one of the movements that involves imagining that you're looking at the moon, asking it your questions. He said that when you ask the moon, you're really asking your heart. And the answers will always come. 

© 2012 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Who Doesn't Love a Good Pat-Down?

I love airports and could write a lot about why. And maybe I will some other time. But right now I just want to share that I especially have come to enjoy going through security.

I always opt out of walking through those bigger n' badder x-ray scanners that many airports have now. Why on earth would I walk through them if kids aren't supposed to? And why on earth would I choose more radiation over getting a pat-down?!

I do recognize that there are TSA workers out there abusing their power, and there are people out there who have experienced molestation at the airport and/or in their past. So I do understand that not everybody is going to love a pat-down; it could be scary or cause discomfort or even actually end up violating you. But fortunately I have no reason to be uncomfortable with them and have never had any issues with those assigned to pat me down.

In fact, I like pat-downs.

I get to hold my arms out as if practicing qigong, specifically Sheng Zhen Gong's Love Descends on Me, while receiving what feels like a super fast and short body/energywork session. The touch has never felt invasive or inappropriate or negative in any way.

I even realized a few pat-downs ago that it felt sort of like being smudged! At least that's how I've been choosing to experience it, as a clearing, as a blessing even, for the journey ahead of me.

And why not? We might as well make the most of it. We might as well enjoy and have fun at the airport and other places, and in other situations, that are usually perceived as stressful.

You have a choice. It's up to you. Use the power of your mind, the power of belief. Use your imagination. Choose humor. Choose contentment. Let go of worries. Relax and play. Choose acceptance. Choose gratitude.
Choose how you want to walk through this life. And then walk through the airport that way. Learn to love the pat-down. Life's just much more enjoyable that way.

© 2012 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Are You Ready for the Mogwai?

You do with Mogwai what your society has done with all of nature's gifts!  You do not understand.  You are not ready.  Perhaps someday, you may be ready.  Until then, Mogwai will be waiting.

-- Mr. Wing, "Gremlins"

My brother emailed me that quote in response to this email I sent about a dream I had: "A cow was walking up to a mogwai. The gremlins were in the forest. The cows were confused. I think it was another planet. Aliens or horses, or both, were observing this. And there was narration about these mogwai turning into gremlins."

I wish I could remember what the narration said. I'd forgotten about this dream until recently. I dreamed it more than three years ago, and find myself wondering what it meant or if it meant nothing at all. Before hearing back from my brother, I wondered if the confused cow represented me. And the mogwai represented the guy I'd been considering getting involved with that summer. And the gremlins in the forest were my demons and fears. Or maybe I was the mogwai, and the cows represented all the people out there in the world who I thought wouldn't understand, or would be confused, by the choices I was considering making, or already had made. But what about the horses and aliens? They were the observers. And that's really where I felt my own presence in this dream, as an observer. Maybe each "character" represented some part of me. Or maybe it wasn't about me at all.

And when I read that quote from my brother, I smiled.  I could be the mogwai offering some gift that others were not ready to receive. I could be the cow, confused and not ready for the gifts of the mogwai. I could be the observer. At different times. Or all at once. I liked what that quote was saying and asking. And now I like that it's making me think less about my dream and more about nature's gifts, and the gifts that we have to share with each other, and how sometimes we just don't understand and are not ready to receive. Sometimes others aren't ready to receive us.

If I have a gift to share, whether it's something I'm teaching or writing or just simply by being, but you aren't ready to receive it, then you might appear to be like a confused cow. I don't mean that to be rude. But it's true. And I know I can be the cow too. A little curious, but not so interested. Or seemingly ready to receive, but just can't see clearly, just not quite understanding.  But the more I  come to realize that gifts are all around us, the more I consciously seek out the gifts in any and all situations, from any and all people, and from nature, the easier it gets to recognize and receive and understand those gifts. 

And the more I treat others, and nature, with love, respect, and gratitude, the more likely they are to remain cute and cuddly, just like the mogwai, rather than turning into those scary destructive gremlins. ;) So if not being treated that way by others, we need to handle ourselves with extra care to keep our own little gremlins in check. Then again, there's plenty to be learned from those gremlins, from our shadows. So when they do emerge, feel what needs to be felt. Heal what needs to be healed. Sometimes a gremlin is a blessing in disguise; sometimes the gremlin is the gift. 

Whether mogwai or gremlin, are you ready to receive?

© 2012 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Thoughts on a Plane

As the plane takes off I look out my window. Here we go, I think, another chance to die.  I'm a little surprised by part 2 of that thought, not so much the use of the word "die"- I'd recently posted the "The Night I Almost Died" blog--  but the use of the word "chance."

Because I wasn't feeling fear when I had that thought, it almost came across as a good thing. Not exactly like "Oh, yippy! Here's a chance to die!" But maybe just neutral. No concern. Just an observation. And I decided to follow that train of thought, curious where it might lead, and here's where it went:

Yes, every time I fly is just another chance to die. I have no control. This plane could explode or crash. Of course it could. Isn't it crazy how we fly through the air in these big machines? Putting our lives in the hands of the pilots? Relinquishing control. And yet it's more likely to die when in control, when behind the steering wheel of one's own car.

And are we ever really in control? Accidents happen. But is there really even such a thing as an accident? Some people say there are no accidents. Each choice every person makes, no matter how seemingly unrelated, leads them to that moment, that location, that situtuation in which the so-called accident happens. Is it all meant to be? Pre-destined? A combination of destiny and choices? Or is it all totally arbitrary? 

I'd rather believe there's some meaning. Not a pre-determined set-in-stone plan with specifics, but perhaps certain things in life our souls must experience. Certain essences, and our choices create the forms through which we experience and embody those essences and learn those lessons and fulfill our contracts and purposes for this lifetime. If you believe in that sort of thing.... and I've decided I do. Life is much more meaningful and interesting that way.

© 2012 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

My Shortest Blog Post Ever

I wish I were on the East Coast, because then I could go to bed.

© 2012 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

The Night I Almost Died

Four years ago I stumbled upon the following piece of writing, and made a note that I had no memory of writing it 8 years prior but preferred it in that moment, to the longer versions of the story I'd been writing on and off for years....

As I stumble upon it today, while working on one of my books, I would say that I don't prefer it, but there's something powerful, haunting even, about it being so condensed and written as if poetry. I wish I could remember writing it-- did it just flow (as it sounds like it did), or was I trying to craft it this way? I don't remember, but I have a feeling it just flowed, at least parts of it.

I'm not sure if it has a place in my book, so for now I'm sharing it here:

1/14/00

I can’teven keep track of how many times I’ve been to the hospital in the past 4 years. Surgeries, follow-up appointments, diagnostic tests, and emergency room--

February 20, 1996, my mom wakes me from sleep at midnight, knocking on my door to tellme I have a phone call. Somebody calling about work, she says. But I know better, and I crawl to the end of my bed to pick up the phone, and it’s who I thought it was. A few representatives from the class of ‘95 calling to invite me over to watch “The Usual Suspects.” But in my half-asleep daze, I say I’m too tired to drive, and they say, no problem, we’re on our way. 

i look out my window as we fly down the road

it’s all a blur, my stomach churns, my head throbs

i yell at him to slow down

i repeatedly yell at him to slow down

i plead

he laughs

the music pounds in my ears

my heart pounds as thoughts of jumping go through my head

i look over the front seat at the speedometer

i would die jumping out of that speeding car

i cannot jump

what do I do?

there is nothing i can do

i can yell

i yell

curve after curve

we barely stay on the road

the car skids to the left, to the right,

back to the left and off the road

crashing into a tree at 60 miles per hour

bones breaking

branches breaking

muffled moaning and groaning

i see myself

doubling over my lap belt like the tree doubling over the car

i must hold on

waiting for help to arrive

paralyzed

unable to move my legs

starting to slip away

help arrives

they tell me to hold on

i am holding on

i can no longer hold on

they pull me out slowly

they lay me down on the ground

i hear the faint crinkling of leaves in my hair

i feel distant

golden beams of light shining down on me

i see the darkness of night as i look up through the trees

soon i hear them talking about me

as if i am no longer there

soon i am gone

in an ambulance

flat on my back

i open my eyes to see

a man wearing blue looking down at me

i ask him for my life

he gives me a blanket

i ask him to hold my hand

he holds my hand and tells me to hold on

i thank him

i thank him repeatedly

fade to black

awaken to light

as they roll me in

the lights seem to be flickering

my eyes must be fluttering

bright lights blind me

eyes shut

clothes rip

eyes open

poking and prodding

i squirm as they prepare me

hooking me up to monitors and tubes

i look up to see men and women in blue

they wheel me towards the operating room

my hearing fades

will I be awake?

i see lips moving

i hear no reply

it’s all over

the drugs must be working

fade to white

it’s all just begun

 

© 2012 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.