Tag Archives: Emily Bronte

Indulge Yourself

good-wife-cast

Whenever the weekend is over I think of that whooshing sound my devices make for a sent e-mail.  Days off do the same thing.  Also days when I take breaks from writing.  There has been a lot of whooshing going on in my life lately.  I got to the place in Cin’s Feb Challenge where it said ‘indulge yourself’ and decided to take that one very seriously.  Not like this is anything new, but sometimes I tend to go overboard.

I would love to say I’ve been doing things that are highly exceptional and utterly extraordinary and extremely creative and intensely fun and important enough to change the world.  And I guess I did just say that, but it would follow that I then feel obligated to expound on the details and I can’t because it’s a big fat lie.

Here’s what actually happened.  I spent my waking hours curled up on the end of the couch with my I-Pad drinking various things (mostly coffee, but last night wine) until the credits rolled on the last episode of Season Four of The Gowuthering heightsod Wife.  Whoosh.  Thank you Netflix.  Now what am I supposed to do while I’m waiting for you to get Season Five?

Well, I immediately thought of something and watched Wuthering Heights from beginning to end, part one and part two.  And finished the wine.  Not sure I could have done it without the wine.

I’m certainly a little more leery now of these multi season shows and getting myself hooked on yet another television series because they seem to have a sort of paralyzing affect on me.  Legal stuff and politics and investigations?  Really??  I could have sworn these things didn’t interest me at all.

I though I was more of an  Emily Bronte/Heathcliff skulking about on the moors kind of girl, but maybe not.

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On Dreaming

“But, first a hush of peace – a soundless calm descends;
The struggle of distress, and fierce impatience ends;
Mute music soothes my breast – unuttered harmony,
That I could never dream, till Earth was lost to me.”

(Emily Bronte)

dream – a succession of images, thoughts, or emotions passing through the mind during sleep

So says the dictionary, failing to add that the dreaming process and the dream itself have been theorized and analyzed to death by people way smarter than me, so whatever I have to add to it all is purely from my own limited experience on the subject and not to be misconstrued as being momentously meaningful.

Perhaps I will have some kind of visionary dream as to why the dictionary left all that out.

Our little brains are dreaming all the time, even when we’re awake. It’s very hard to turn that off. We daydream and imagine and go into little mini trances to examine all sorts of illusions and delusions all day long. We remember things that happened yesterday and this morning and many years ago. If we didn’t do that, we’d have a heck of a lot less to say and fewer ways with which to annoy the people around us.

Falling asleep should be a lovely release from reality. A way to shut down and shut up and let it all go. But like a Timex watch, our brains just keep right on ticking, this time without the reality check switch turned on.

Little random pockets of stored information pop open and play themselves out in bizarre combinations for our dreaming pleasure. It’s probably a very good thing that we promptly forget over 90% of everything we dream. It’s hard enough to make sense of this chaotic world when we’re awake, never mind trying to glean some profound meaning from the gobbledygook our brain manufactures for us during the night.

The best part of dreaming is waking up and realizing that you were only dreaming; that chess pieces do not actually talk to each other and whine about where they are being moved to on the board, and that you absolutely did not, and quite possibly never will, become trapped in an elevator with a very nervous live skunk. That’s just a little preview of hell and should give you the motivation to turn your life around as soon as possible. Start with not eating cold pizza right before bed.

I suppose my ‘theory’ is that dream interpretation is nothing more than a pleasant little time waster, sort of like inventing excuses for not doing something you had no intention of doing even without rational explanations, or reading your daily horoscope, or opening up a fortune cookie.

So dream on, my friend. It’s not that serious.