We can't discover new oceans, unless we have the courage to lose sight of the shore.

Preparation

I love the cleanness and coolness of the air after a heavy rain. It rejuvenates my plants. It rejuvenates me. A run is in my near future. Perfect weather. Can't wait.

Today I was thinking about the way we feel about the unknown. The uneasiness we get when we realize we don't know how to prepare, because we don't know what to expect. But there is no need to worry. We spend our whole lives preparing just by living and learning. The unknown surrounds us and waits for us to take a chance on it.

Don't be afraid of what may come from the unknown; the positives versus the negatives, good versus bad, but be sure to follow your gut/heart/soul, and be sure to learn from the experience. And remember, positives can eclipse negatives, just as the Sun does the Moon. Our world; the way we see it and the way we live it, is up to us.

Kitchen Table

A good place to gather and solve the world's problems. Throw in the magic 8 ball and now you've got all the answers.

Freedom

I am in a bit of a holding pattern. But soon it will end….and whatever will be, will be. 

I was thinking today, about Freedom. The freedom we find when we are satisfied with our current situation. I am trying to find freedom in my mind regardless of what the future brings. Our minds can assign deeper meaning as we see fit, and the ability to find deeper meaning is our saving grace. 

I finished a great book by J. Haidt on Moral Psychology. I just wrote a quote from it on my white board: If you want to open your mind, open your heart first. 

And this of course brings me back to Freedom. Freedom from our own mental madness. Sometimes following your gut can be very liberating. Intuiting your next move instead of fucking thinking it into paralysis. Rethinking this whole thinking thing over here! Oh so freeing. 

Connecting the Stars

I strive to make sense of my external and internal world to exhaustion at times. Speculation in excess may cause insanity. Be careful out there.

It is the 4^th of July....already. 

It has been an interesting year so far. Mental and circumstantial changes have occurred for me and a few closest to me. Some change was welcomed, and some change was thrust upon us, but no matter the weather, we were able to make it together. Of course! And always. 

We may question our past decisions and how they lead to our current path, and we may question our current decisions and how they will affect our future; taking chances, taking risks, and widening the mind’s eye is not a painless process. But I believe we must do this to truly live. 

I have found a few soul mates that will always be with me, no matter where I go. And I will always be here for them, even if not physically present. Lucky me. Lucky us. 

Remember

Oh, my! Oh, my, my. Always forgetting what you know, Celeste. Losing your Zen, forgetting to slow down, forgetting to enjoy the moments for the moments. Forgetting to feel the goodness all around you. Oh how things come and go in this life, including my peace of mind, but when I get it back again, how sweet it is. Today I worked hard at crossfit, but on my drive home, I couldn't help still having the urge to run. It was such a beautiful day! I decided on a quick jog, just to enjoy this morning. As soon as I stepped outside, I took a deep breath. I began reeling from the morning's air; it smelled and felt like Heaven. I smiled so big that I started laughing. Everything felt so right and I felt so happy. It is OK to forget. We are only human. The machine sucks us in and we get lost. But as long as you remember - REMEMBER - what you've always known, everything will be as it is; Imperfectly Perfect.

Moonlight

Sometimes, what we envision in the moonlight, by the morning can't exist.

Iron and Oxygen

PRRROOOOB - LEM. Problem. When I start looking at my "problems", I talk them into dissolution. Clearly the antithesis of a solution, and I don't know if this strategy is good or bad, but Fuck our first world problems. Who needs them. Dissolute them. So I discovered that PMS serves a very important mind enlightening function for the atypical XX-er such as myself. First of all, the dreams become even more bananas than usual. Which I would say is a positive, but it really isn't when you're dreaming of spitting up blood, and not by yourself; I'm in a house full of people spitting up blood. What the fuck does that mean? According to the interwebs (which are like the spider webs in your brain, except this brain is a machine and the web isn't made of silk- think about it), it means I am suffering deep emotional stress. Well gee, who isn't? Thanks Mr. Google, you're a mother fuckin magician, with your automagic answers, gift wrapped in HTML, for our eager little minds to rip open. If I said what I was really thinking even 50% of the time, I wonder what would happen. This shit is bananas! B-A-N-A-N-A-S! Where is my mind? Where is my mind?

The Stars

The telescope was sitting on top of the wooden radiator cover. We looked through the lens and out my wrought iron window, into the western side of the sky, at the stars and the darkness of space. I thought about the space being occupied by that which I could not see. I squinted and sighed. You must have felt my frustration because you smiled at me in that knowing way.

It was seven years ago on Sunday that you died. But that night, in my dream, you looked at me and said; the Stars do not know anything about Astronomy.

I will never truly understand this world, and its orbit in which we spin. Although, I do believe that we have every answer that we will ever need, inside.

Ghosts

Sometimes a feeling, if not acted upon, will begin to fade; just as some memories do, and as the days, weeks, months, years go by, you begin to wonder if the feeling was even real.

"Some days I don't know if I am wrong or right."
"Your mind is playing tricks on you my dear."

But every so often you remember poignantly and with insane clarity, that the feeling was very real. Possibly it is a survival mechanism, that we allow certain feelings to fade, that we question what is true, so that we can begin again, so that we can move on.

"Though the truth may vary, this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore."

I do not believe in the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Every spot I guard like a diamond. Though it may fade in brilliance, I never wish to part with it. There's a fine line between remembering your past so that you can learn from it, and letting it haunt you. I do not want mine to haunt me. I do not need any ghosts.

"Just let me go, I'll see you again soon." Maybe when I close my eyes.

Bored or On Board?

Most days there are a gazillion things I want to do. I have so much energy and excitement for pretty much every day. Then I have to go to work and I think: what the fuck!? God damn reality interfering with my fun again. FUN! Go have some fucking fun why don’t you? And so I try to have fun with work too, but really I live for my personal time. It is so glorious. There is so much to do in this world! Oh, how to find the time!??

Dudes and dudettes, if you are bored, then you are not on board with life. I hear my train every night, sounding its horn as it passes through my lovely little town, and I think; I am hopping on that sucker in the AM. I am not missing that fucker no matter what. It’s my nightly metaphor, telling me, don’t forget, Celeste. Don’t forget to be present, to be on board with living life to the fullest every day. When my alarm sounds, I don’t want to turn the fucker off or hit snooze (ok, sometimes I do hit snooze), but then I think, I gots shit to do! I gots fun to be had. And fun I have.

My friend took his son to fly a kite yesterday. Oh how perfect. How free you feel when you see it soaring through the sky, blowing with the wind. How good you feel watching it, with the sun on your skin, and in your eyes, and seeping into your pores, your cells, your being. Ahhh…Sun fuel. Love that shit. I’m addicted.

My only problem in life is that I can’t live forever. But that's all the more reason to get on board that train! And it's all the more reason to go fly a fucking kite!!!

Turning and Burning

Ok, so I am thinking, as I eat this apple (very tasty apple), that we are surrounded by lava. In fact the whole Earth is burning. No shit. And in the midst of it all, we stay cool. Well, most of us do. We avoid the fire around us. And we have to, we have shit to do. We are “very busy people.”

Most days I am proud that I have no problem finding inner peace, and staying cool when surrounded by the typical, daily mayhem of modern life. I go into the mind cave. I make everything around me move in slow motion. I watch the world like a movie reel that is slowly turning. A fluid carousel of pictures, I put them in frames in my brain. Some I wish I could hang on my walls. Just plaster my fucking walls in mental images; a god damn massive memory collage of frozen life. Like when I saw the brother and sister who cried and fell to their knees at the airport when reunited. Or when I looked down on the tumultuous city of La Paz, or out at the endless sea before I jumped off that bridge in Cadiz.

But back to this fire that is raging and we are ignoring. At night, I close my eyes; listen to the outside sounds seeping through my windows. I breathe in and out with purpose. I sense my surroundings, like a ninja (for real, you didn’t know I was a ninja?), all while craziness, I still can’t seem to hear, is happening. Weather is changing, lava is boiling, tectonic plates may be shifting, drug deals are occurring, guns are firing, babies are born, someone isn’t eating, someone else may be vomiting, and I am typing. All kinds of crazy shit is happening all the time. And then here we are…just plugging along. La ti dah. La ti fucking dah.

Sometimes I wonder; does the world need more firefighters?

quest.Ion.s

Everything is overwhelmingly interesting. I have an extreme desire to live forever because even forever cannot exhaust the infinity of knowledge that is always one step ahead of me. Like an ever rising helium balloon, that is never fully graspable, you reach and reach, coming close to holding it and bringing it to your level, but sometimes close is still so far away. There is so much in this world beyond our mental grasp. I love trying to reach it, even though I know I never will. There will always be more to know, there will always be more questions. If you stop questioning, you're dead.

I would love to do a study regarding the varied consciousness levels on the psychological interruption that occurs because of the two dimensional communication that usurps our physical presence at times. All this was prompted by a trip to Mad Mex with Stacey. We both left our phones in our purse, commented on the conscious decision to do so, and simultaneously noticed so many around us very busy fondling their phones. We decided to check out the unique art on the walls, the neat lantern lights dangling above the bar, and the young people around us. We talked with a gay couple beside us. We learned about a new band playing locally. We were present in our three dimensional space. We did not mentally shift our focus to a two dimension reality that encroaches on our psyche in ways we may not realize. In ways we may not understand. What do we miss when we are busy worrying about what we're missing? What do we miss when our minds are present in multiple dimensions at once?

There are so many questions that I have about our social, psychological, and physical fibers that connect us. There are so many questions that I have, period. I watched history lectures on Youtube by a UC Davis professor. So, at the same time that I question our connectedness, I utilize it to study my inquiries. My curiosity is a product of its existence, and it is satiated by it as well.

Positive, negative, positive, negative. Whenever you breathe out, I am breathing in.

Silent Conversation

She opened her eyes this morning, confused about where she had just been. Her brain is still in a frenzy of action; her neurons firing like a madman on a shooting spree. It is dark outside, but an Aurora Borealis is occurring from within. Her mind is in its own universe, a planet she only partially understands.

She talks and writes to you inside that mind. A one sided conversation with endless hopes for your response. She fills in the blanks, with different answers every time, exasperating the possibilities of where the conversation may go.

She can control her next dream if she tries. I wonder if you can feel her think on you.

Algebraic Vision

In the middle of the retina, where the optic nerve connects to the eye, we have a blind spot where there are no photoreceptors. When we look at the world around us we are totally unaware that there are gaping holes in our vision. We fill in the unknowns, based on the "knowns". We see the world, based on an equation. I've never been all that great at Math....fuck.

Mental Locomotion

Costa Mesa, Santa Monica, Santa Barbara, LA….I think; what a fabulous place to live. But, it isn’t necessarily where you are in this life, but who you are sharing it with. And this really makes me think…

Some people analyze and analyze and then analyze some more. I am one of them. But sometimes, I switch it off and follow only my heart. I hear the gears of my mind come to a grinding halt, like a piece of industrial machinery. Another noise ensues, that drumming noise inside my head again, rising from my chest.

We cannot know another’s heart, and this is why we question our own at times. No matter what ours may say, if the other person doesn’t share theirs, then there is nothing. Who would ever settle for nothing?

I hear my train in the distance again. Where is it going without me? And why do I want to be on board so badly.

The mystery of the unknown can be so enticing. To others it can be so scary.

When you look down the path on which you stand, what do you see? Who do you see?

The sound of the train always soothes me when I am falling asleep. Sometimes dreaming has to be good enough.

QUESTion #15

Now that it has had time to sink in...2012...you are here!!! Now what the fuck are we going to do with you??????????? Hmmmmm......

On E

I have this annoying itch in my throat. I have an itch period. Something, something, something, I can't quite reach. And so it lingers.

In a world that is so connected, we are all so eerily disconnected. Frightening. Fucking scary. I try to connect to what really matters everyday, but I often feel myself being sucked dry, like everybody around me has turned into vampires. Where are all the people that share energy, not just take it?

My eyes are heavy. Sometimes I feel so done. Like I want to fucking throw my computer off my lap, really hard at the wall. And then that's it. Get up and go somewhere. Where? Anywhere. Be somebody different. Somebody I always wanted to be. The somebody I compare myself to until it hurts.

I need a mental shift, or the whole fucking world to shift. I am too simple for this world's complexity. I don't want much. I don't need much. But what I do want and need is all that really matters, and that's what everyone else around me seems to be missing. And this makes me so sad. And so I'll just keep bleeding I guess...(I am so dramatic it makes me laugh).

How did all this happen?

Wrongful Desires

When I was 12 I was almost raped. I guess that would be called molested. I am baffled and disgusted that the boy, who was 17, wanted to touch a girl that didn't even have breasts yet.

I remember the way that he used to look at me while I was playing with his niece and nephew. I remember my heart racing, my breath catching, and my mind wishing me invisible. He made me unbearably nervous. When he would make wrongful comments, or ask me sick questions, I'd say nothing back. I would try to stay away from him, make excuses to take the kids to the neighbors or for walks. When he would find a way to touch me, even slightly, I cringed and felt myself jump. I was afraid to tell my Mom and his Aunt Jill that I didn't like it when he came to the house. It was my first baby sitting job. I didn't want to seem unable to handle it.

I don't think that the whole event affects me much today. Although, I tend to have a memory of him when men give me flattering comments. I get that same uncomfortable feeling and I have a hard time finding a response. I think, you want to touch me too? Is that it? Of course, I'd never say that, instead I say Thank you, change the subject, and drop the memory of fuck face back into my black hole.

It is so odd how our minds hold on to certain memories, even if we want to let them go. I have decided the bad memories must have something to convey if they keep sticking around. Perhaps if we wrap our mind around them enough, we can squeeze out something good to take away.

Is there a such thing as a bad experience? If we can learn something from it, be stronger and deeper because of it, then the bad isn't all bad. Is it?

Figures and Numbers

This life, and our feelings, are not an equation to be solved.

I couldn't sleep. I guess you couldn't either. I couldn't see you, but I could hear you. I wasn't touching you, but I could feel you. You said, sometimes, we have to go with our gut. Our minds can fuck with us.

God, do I know this.

I felt the clock ticking down the time. I knew what I wanted to say. I thought, follow your heart. So that's exactly what I did when I asked you that question, in my kitchen, before you left.

"Fearful Waters" recede she said...

Many Moons and Battle Wounds

When we are sleeping, the brain sorts through life's daily challenges, experiences, images, and thoughts. It may even solve problems and interpret ideas, all while we are completely unconscious. Then it filters, deciding what to keep and what to discard.

Dreams are so interesting because they are a window to this subconscious problem solving and mental sorting. I think about some of the thoughts and memories that have been programmed to stay with me, even through all the filtering, their residues are burned onto my brain and I keep spinning the negatives. What am I supposed to be developing?

In that certain slant of light, I think I see something more than shadows. It's amazing what we think we can see while in the dark.

Good Question

Sigh.

I never know what to make of this crazy fucking world, this crazy fucking life. I sure do love it though.

What if the world were to really end in 11 months? It better not; I would be so fucking pissed! Damn Mayans better be wrong. I have waaaay too much shit to do still.

When you watch the people that you love the most in your life die in a hospital, you make a silent promise to yourself to never hold back saying how you feel. So why do you still hold back doing what you feel?

If there is anything that surprises me most in this life, it is that we are afraid of what we want and afraid of who we are (and aren't).

As I type all of this I think of the quote I attached to my dashboard when I was 21. It said: "The longer I live, the more beautiful life becomes."

This is still my favorite quote.

There is no fucking way the world can end in 11months! Is there???

Childhood Reflections

Do you remember when we stood in the middle of the living room, in that tiny 3 bedroom house? I was eight, you were six. Mom was only 28, and she was crying and hugging us. It was our first home, “just the three of us”, she said through tears.

Mom’s hair was jet black and covered her entire back. When she cut it short, I sobbed. She didn’t look the same. Remember when we played for hours in the woods, you, Chris, and me? We buried treasures and lost treasures. I almost died swinging on that vine by the Big Rock. We loved going to the Big Rock and playing in 100 Acres. Remember when Mom beat me for starting a fire in 100 Acres, which I never actually started. I didn’t know what to think of my bruised body, fat lip, and black eye. I remember the whole ordeal vividly. I had to stay home from school for a week because she didn’t want my teacher to ask what happened. I realized she felt guilty, which made me feel less scared. And less mad. I was so mad at her! She bought The Outsiders and we watched it on the couch together. I was only 9. A few years later, I read the book, and it became one of my favorites.

I remember when Jim started coming to the house more often, and the train he bought to go under our tree. A short time later I would be in Mom’s room, while she was crying on her bed, asking me if she should be with Jim. I was 9, maybe 10, what did I know? But I remember telling her, “Yes, Mom. Please. We like him.” I wanted him to keep coming back, and I was so scared he wouldn’t. I didn't fully understand why she was crying.

Remember when Uncle Ray moved in, and we were so excited? We thought he and Stacey were the coolest people in the world. I wanted to be Stacey. I liked everything she liked, and often asked her to pick out my school clothes. When she gave me attention I felt so special. I liked how Uncle Ray laughed. Doesn’t he have a fun laugh?

We played “Ship” in our room. If you touched the Ocean water (the bedroom floor), you died. We made incredible tents and played Atari, and later Nintendo. I adored playing my Muppet Casio and pretending I was a famous piano player. I made pictures on my chalkboard and hated when you erased them. I had the top bunk, and when you were mad at me, you would kick it. Hard! I pretended it was fun, and that made you stop. When I couldn’t fall asleep at night, I would get out of bed and spy on Uncle Ray and his friends. That’s how I saw The Wall for the first time. Uncle Ray caught me, but allowed me to stay up and watch the rest.

On other nights, when I couldn’t fall asleep, I would do what Grandma taught me, and say a “God Bless” prayer for all the people I loved. I did this out loud, do you remember hearing me? When I was done with that I would talk to Pap Pap Pete. Mom said he was a painter, a photographer, and an electrician. She said he loved to travel and took her places as a little girl. She said his death was the biggest tragedy of her life, and that it was a horrible shame we would never know him. In my child mind I deemed him the smartest man I never knew. Do you remember if you thought that too?

You’ll never read this, and I’ll never ask, but do you remember? I know you do. What else do you remember?

Own Deception

I think things I do not speak (or write). I want things I do not attempt. I do things and do not know why. I wonder if anyone really knows me. I think nobody does. Then I wonder if I really know myself.

When I dream things that are disturbing, I think I must be disturbed. I look at myself for longer than usual in the mirror and think you are too boring to be disturbed. Are any of my thoughts or ideas my own, or just a product of what I've seen and read? I think I am such a waste. I look harder at myself, and I don't understand why I let that happen. Now I can't look at myself anymore, and I would love to smash the mirror, but I know I will regret it later. Pussy.

Most days, I am a positive force. Mentally I know how to be strong. I try not to focus on my own self conscious thoughts. I file them in my brain as selfish and I do not want to be selfish. When I was a teenager, I went through periods of depression. I remember how much I hated myself. I would day dream and night dream that I was one of my friends. That their families were mine, their essence was mine, and that I could slip into their body and brains like a thief into a vault; except instead of taking the treasure, I would become it.

Almost every day of my life I either feel invisible or want to be invisible. I am not sure what this means. The only thing that makes me truly happy are the people I love. Sometimes I like to think about them and how much I love them, just to make myself cry and feel something real.

I have this stupid blog, and my personal journals that I've filled with thoughts, but the truth never really comes out. It stays deep inside. I feed it when I eat, I exercise it when I run, I keep it alive, but never let it out. Maybe I am afraid of what it might look like. Will it shine like a magical, diamond orb, or will it be a dark mass, oozing with blood? My blood. Like some sick parasite I have been sustaining.

I will get up from this table, go about my day, and love every second of it. Because even as I entertain my fucked up, self conscious thoughts, I know how lucky I am, and I know how much I have, and this realization makes me even angrier with myself. What the fuck am I doing? Being worthless again.