The Wind in my Teenage Years

Every afternoon or early evening I take a wee bike ride down the coast. Or up the coast, depending on which direction the tide is moving the water between the peninsula and the island. Today we had a bit of wind. Just perfectly lit, like a summer evening should be, and wind in my face.

It's not much of a road. Two cars can pass one another safely, provided they're not gigantic American jobbies. There are no lines, though, and people can and do park on either side of the road, turning it into a single lane.

Just imagine, a 20 minutes bike ride, just for the fun of it, every day.

I got out to the point, my usual turn around spot. The road turns to dirt and gravel about 100 yards before a hill. It's a nice, and small, challenge to go up and down the other side, skidding if I hit the brakes, avoiding potholes. The point held the wind, so I was in the lee for a good while before reaching the turn, and then the wind came blasting into my face again. Glorious, really.

I stood at the point, watching birds looping up and down and back and forth. They unconsciously know just what to do to stay afloat, skim the surface of the waves, land, take off again. Like walking.

For almost five months I was unable to walk without crutches, due to a silly injury. I said I would never take walking for granted again. And I don't. I walk all the time now. But that time sitting gave me a lot to think about. First it was frustrating, then it was terribly sad, and finally I found ways to engage myself and my brain. Now I can sit around, staring into space, and not even notice the time passing. And it's quite enjoyable.

I can walk again, so I've been given the job of house-wife. After dutifully taking care of me and our finances for half a year, my husband is now a good working husband. And I am just taking care of everything else. No, there is no stress in my life. We designed it this way, living cheaply and simply.

Out at the point I stood in the wind remembering what it felt like to be a teenager, just waiting for things to change, waiting to grow up. I've been thinking a lot about how life moves by if I don't remind myself to notice every once in a while. Make decisions, choose what and how and when, stop to notice when things work or when they don't. Treasure and maintain relationships that matter and are good.

But in high school I was anxious, and time moved slowly. We wasted time. Sitting in the wind, feeling what the cold felt like, watching waves and birds and the clouds come across the sky, all the while contemplating the drama of being in love or heartbroken or a heart breaker. And now I can just stand in the wind and breathe. Knowing that the best is right now, was then, is yet to come.

A song that I love (sorry, can't imbed from current machine):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5RV-5j4wQsQ&feature=youtube_gdata_player

It would be okay with me

If my brain were donated to this kind of research, my life will have been worthwhile. Apparently, prozac effects genes in the brain in an amazing array of little dots. How do I know? I've seen it. Thanks Wired and Not Exactly Rocket Science (where I first found the link).

Whew! There's so much stuff on the internet. Could be overwhelming. In fact, I'm basically tired of amazing photographs. Until I see the next one. My favorites for today are: 1. the happy topic of people being crazy, in a colorful way and 2. a look back at the age of radio in Russia. Be sure you make it to the photos from on top of a tower. Also, just for kicks, what spiders do when it's absolutely too wet out. Spooky, if you are afraid of spiders.

From off planet? Mercury. Now, I've heard that meteors bring life. Not sure where, but someone mentioned something about moisture from meteors hitting the moon... or maybe Earth? Sorry the details are so foggy. I don't read and accept everything that comes along. But these photos of Mercury make me think two things. First, meteors hit planets all the time and anyone who thinks that only God throws rocks is nuts. Second, where might these waters and potentially living organisms have come from? I say, there's other life in the universe and that's why we're here. Kind of an Elf Quest fantasy that we're just the ape/alien hybrid version of a higher form of life that's out there, somewhere. Why not? Likely as any other story. And I love Elf Quest.

Political banter is just too terrifying these days. I don't even want to know who is saying what unless it's someone bashing Republicans for being stupid, lying, transparent money-grubbers. I will bash with this: Republicans in Florida think that the word uterus is dirty. Maybe we can all take an inside look at the human body at Google Body. Ways to use this magic are coming soon, I presume. For now, it's just fun to see each system appear and disappear as the slider is moved. Boy or girl!

Back to the brain, some reading for those of you who would be heros. I don't really like heros, in their traditional comic book incarnations. Batman is cool in his Byronic way. Spiderman is kind of boring. Superman is just annoying in his depressed, neglected perfection. But maybe this article makes me feel different. The gist? Heroism is a type, pre-defined, at least partially, by brain chemistry and genetics. Rule breakers, in general, are that type. People who go out of their way to do what's right, are overwhelmed by the empathy they feel for others, and are not afraid of getting into trouble as long as the cause is served. This describes people who re-define the rules at work because the rules don't make sense, and mostly get away with it even if they're not trying. I guess that kind of describes Superman. But when I'm Lois, I will always pick Jimmy. Afterall, I am definitely the rule-breaking type and if heroism is called for, I'll do the saving.

Leadership and Success

This has been my hunch, too. People respond poorly to financial incentives for creative and innovative and challenging success. In other words, you can't pay me to do a great job unless I love what I do.

I also really appreciate the three motivators: autonomy, mastery, and progress. I watched TV in the 80s so it is fair for me to use the most appropriate word I know: DUH! Prior bosses who either hovered and nit-picked or performed very poorly while making more money, now you know why you were unsuccessful.

Peanut Butter & Jelly - Don't look back

It is Especially Dangerous to be Conscious of Oneself
by Jeff Alessandrelli

• 
  

And supposing tomorrow we are finally rich

against the morning, the streets

scrubbed clean of concrete, asphalt and tar,

property lines extended skyward,

limbs no longer

indebted to our bodies

but splayed further, distant,

not a glass or plastic jar in sight

but still an abundance of peanut butter,

guilt-free boysenberry jam,

and then believing all this only

to consider what the percentage is

in closing your eyes

and turning around,

desperately looking back.

• 
  

Taking Enviro-Art to a New Level

Whoa: a word someone once tried to read out-loud to me as "who-a". Confusing visually, unless you've got the context. What, indeed, will archaeologists of the future think of physically accurate human statues covered in corals? Likely they'll just look it up on the internet. Unless some crazy wack-job right-wing religiously fanatical nutcase who shall not be named is right and the world-as-we-know-it is coming to an end. Isn't this world changing every day, by now? Things have been changing faster and faster anyway.

Somebody re-read Cosmicomics by Italo Calvino and tell me what it was like before:


"At one time, according to Sir George H. Darwin, the Moon was very close to the Earth. Then the tides gradually pushed her far away: the tides that the Moon herself causes in the Earth's waters, where the Earth slowly loses energy... 
"...Orbit? Oh, elliptical, of course: for a while it would huddle agains us and then it would take flight for a while. The tides, when the Moon swung closer, rose so high nobody could hold them back. There were nights when the Moon was full and very, very low, and the tide was so high that the Moon missed a ducking in the sea by a hair's breadth; well, let's say a few yards anyway. Climb up on the Moon? Of course we did. All you had to do was row out to it in a boat and, when you were underneath, prop a ladder against her and scramble up."




Now that is something you can't find on the internet. Well, now you can. See a book for the rest.

The Knife

Music and making fun of you and me:



Ask yourself these questions:

1. When was this video made?
2. When did this band form?
3. Are the people in the video the people in the band?
4. If you close your eyes and pretend you never saw the video, do you like the music more or less or the same as before?
5. How many videos can you watch by The Knife?

Soundtrack for Atavistic Anxiety

Listening to this while reading this.

Fascinating. Big fears, lots of words, and I can walk away feeling happier than usual. Although I don't know what it's like to be neurotic, I've known neuroses and the people afflicted by them. Sometimes they may come from some far away, long ago, ancestral need for safety - be it safety of body or mind - but some people are simply traumatized by their past or their surroundings. Others need the attention of their mother, and get that attention by acting out like children. I am not trying to be critical, don't take it personally.

So what about the soundtrack? Music is powerful. The music linked above makes some people neurotic, and for others it signals release - in the body or mind. Music can be used as a drug; uppers from those untarnished by the popstocracy or subtle depressants inspired by the emoversity educated. Or maybe the sad songs make you happy, which is the category I find myself in today. On other days a sad song will just make me cry.

But oh well, happiness is overrated.