ONE STEP AT A TIME ~ FOOTSTEPS IN ETHER

My tree of knowledge of good and evil.

This tree exists in Mossel Bay.   I gave up trying to draw it, packed up and drove away, but as I got around the back of it, I saw this.  I set myself up again.  It is the draft for a painting that is still not finished.

I have no subject today.  Inspiration will come. 

I seem always poised for change as if it will pounce on me when I am not looking.

I, simultaneously, fear that change is going to get me, and I long for old lands, where I have been, desperate to swim in warm water again, heated by the sun alone.  Where better to go than to that junction where I met, "Nobody Nowhere" and "Somebody Somewhere," which were two books that explained a functional autistic person's journey to self.  It resonated.

"At last!  After all these years, I have a word that describes me, almost."

I was this functional working person, but totally crap at being in a marriage with a complex human with needs that usually offended me.  How to make that work was the goal, as if I could make our relationship work, be at least functional as well, as I could a job, any job, in spite of its complexities. but I had it in me then,  the optimism required to move mountains, at least sheer off the jagged bits.

The Movie "Mr. Jones" appeared; it deflected me from autism, possibly, to bipolar, definitely.

It astonishes me that I never told a single doctor about Mr. Jones, how I was like him, one minute trying to fly off the roof with the overhead Boeing and the next finding moving my feet on the pavement almost impossible. 

Were it not for Ayn Rand I don't know what would have become of me. 

She wrote, "To move is torture, but stillness is the end of hope." 

I forget which work it is from. Her writings kept me from coming to a standstill.  I admit I begged doctors to put me into the hospital when every fiber in my body screamed.  All I got was an intravenous injection from that doctor.   It took 5 minutes to run through my system and I was good to go. 

Professor Jordan Peterson has been just such a saviour.  He is Ayn Rand with Faith, which she could not have.  "I act as if God exists," he says.

His lectures are free on YouTube and what a blessing they are!  I bought his book, 12 Rules for Life.  I noticed it in the bookshop.   I shall be getting the hard copy,

My blogs are quite ordinary I think, but after my last one, I have picked up a new reader from: "Unknown Region" Google reports.   I have been watching something on Netflix which explains that possibility.  Welcome to the unknown region.   What you see is what you get.  Let's hope I can lead you to the point in your heart.

CNN is ever on in the house where I work as a Carer to a 97-year-old lady.  If I ever get to 97 I hope my children will find a nice black man to care for me.  I saw a very, very old, small woman with hair so aged that it reminded me of one of those old-old dogs with six hairs here and there. She still pushes her grocery trolley.  A large young black man is her driver and carer walks beside her.  What a bonus!  Ladies, invest in your old age so that you can have this gift one day.

I have a sudden need for "The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows" again.   Yes.  Today we have this.  

Avenoir.   

What a fabulous idea this dictionary is.   

John Koenig, I love your work.

We, my clan of depressed hearts, struggle to describe ourselves, trying to find words for our feelings that no one else seems to have.   Even the unafflicted have holes in their vocabulary to explain their sense of life, words to describe how life impacts us differently because we have genes from unknown ancestors. 

"If we got into a better relationship with chaos then we would feel a bit more comfortable in our skin..."  John Koenig says in his Ted Talk, which I recommend you watch.

Making friends with chaos is right up Prof. Jordan Peterson's street. For some reason we grow up thinking we are going to dodge the chaos our parents faced, definitely the chaos my poor grandmother faced, only to find out in later life that chaos is our friend, our manure.   We grow from it.

My beloved client lies in slumber in her chair, with the abandon of a child who has fallen asleep in her favourite movie; it relaxed her and peace nicked wakefulness when she blinked.

Love and Light to you all,
and the Unknown Region.