Once upon a time, I was a
fourth grader. I had a magical teacher named Mr. Hall. After lunch, he read us
chapter books.
He introduced me to a club
where I have been a lifelong member.
The “look it up” club. It
wasn’t a club in reality. It was a way of engaging children, me, with a love of
looking up the meaning of words.
I love it when I am
reading and I stumble on a word I’m not familiar with; or a word I don’t see
often; or a mix of words that aren’t commonly used together.
Brain bleach – it means
just what it sounds like. Something to clean your brain of nastiness. What a
valuable thing for these times.
Recently I was reading one
of my favorite authors, Jayne Ann Krentz, writing as Jayne Castle. She used the
words psychic dissonance. I am fixated on the concept of cognitive dissonance
and consonance. But psychic dissonance – intriguing.
Psychic means relating to
the soul or mind.
Dissonance means a tension
or clash between two disharmonious or unsuitable elements. An example being the
current dissonance between a politicians words and their behavior.
Psychic dissonance would
then be a clash in the mind caused by two conflicting thoughts or energies.
Maybe a good example would
be so many romance readers who love books where the hero is an alpha male. They
love to read such a fictional character on the page but in reality they would
never allow a real man to treat them that way.
Another example might be –
I was watching Gordon Ramsey cook with someone else. That person put shaved chocolate
on their cooked ground beef. Gordon could not wrap his mind around the notion
of chocolate on ground beef but when he tasted it – it was good.
Psychic dissonance – it’s
enough to give me a wordgasm.
The plan was, once my
daughter headed upstairs for her procedure, I’d find my spot, set myself up comfortable
with some coffee and write.
You know what Steven Wright says about plans. “You should plan to be spontaneous tomorrow.”
Of course, that’s
irrelevant here and he’s crazy.
While I was getting myself
set up – four people settled in at the table beside me. And one of them started
talking. Non-stop. In an annoying voice. I looked over and thought, they’ve got
scrubs on. They’re working. They won’t be there long.
Okay not two years but
forty-five minutes later, she was still talking. And the other three people at
the table were alternating between nodding as if they were listening and doing something
on their phones.
My daughter had two
procedures and they both went well. On the way home she said – it’s Tuesday. I
wonder if Kristen Hampton has a new product testing video on Facebook.
And she did. This time she
was testing microwave-able pork rinds. Things to know if you’re not a Kristen
Hampton fan. 1 – You should be. She’s awesome. 2 – On Tuesday’s she tests new
products in her car if she’s in town. Or in her golf cart type vehicle if she’s
out and about on her farm. 3 – She’s funny. 4 – Sometimes on youtube.com she
does a cooking show called White Trash Kitchen which is also funny.
This Tuesday she was in
her car. I didn’t get how she did this because I was driving while listening, but
somehow she snuck a microwave into the car that worked off of the cigarette
lighter charger thing. Evidently it was her wife Terra’s because she was
worried about Terra finding out before she got started and reclaiming it.
Which started her on a
tangent about some 5000 people who unsubscribed to her page after her last product
testing video because she referred to Terra as her wife and they got upset.
She does that. Goes off on
tangents. She also talks non-stop.
Kristen Hampton: “Me and
my grandpa when we were little, well when I was little, he was not little he was
old, he was always old since I knew him, because I was born and he was already
old, but we used to go get a Pepsi and pork skins and that was our little
treat.”
Huh. When she does it, it
doesn’t bother me. In fact, it’s amusing.
Which led me to thinking
about the Queen of non-stop fast talking; Lorelai Gilmore.
If you aren’t a Gilmore Girls fan, I can’t help you. There is, in fact, no help for you.
As a demonstration of the
awesomeness of Lorelai and her daughter Rory – if you’re a fan – travel down
memory lane with me – if you’re not – go on youtube.com and find this scene
afterwards.
Fans – you know what scene
I mean. She is talking to Rory about writing a character reference letter for
Luke and she tells Rory she can’t seem to get it written. Rory advises her to
just sit down and put pen to paper and write it.
Lorelai tells Rory she
tried that and it didn’t work. Rory asks why.
Lorelai Gilmore: “My brain
is a wild jungle full of scary gibberish…bicycle, unitard, hockey puck,
rattlesnake, monkey, monkey, underpants.”
I attend Tuesday night Zoom meetings for Pinellas Writers. The issue of whether or not to wait for inspiration comes up frequently. I've read a lot of really good writers opinion on this and it's almost always - don't wait.
James Clear, who wrote a book I really enjoyed called Atomic Habits, has a newsletter I subscribe to. Recently he had the following in his newsletter:
Chuck Close self portrait
"Painter and visual artist Chuck Close on inspiration:
"The advice I like to give young artists, or really anybody who'll listen to me, is not to wait around for inspiration. Inspiration is for amateurs; the rest of us just show up and get to work. If you wait around for the clouds to part and a bolt of lightning to strike you in the brain, you are not going to do an awful lot of work.
All the best ideas come out of the process; they come out of the work itself. Things occur to you. If you're sitting around trying to dream up a great idea, you can sit there a long time before anything happens. But if you just get to work, something will occur to you and something else will occur to you and something else that you reject will push you in another direction. Inspiration is absolutely unnecessary and somehow deceptive. You feel like you need this great idea before you can get down to work, and I find that's almost never the case."
Long ago there was a girl,
a girl and a dog. They lived a happy life in a lovely city in a land called
California.
One of the girls, Jasmine,
was studying to be a massage therapist. She spent hours of her day in peace and
quiet learning to use therapeutic touch to heal aches and pains and strained
muscles. She received a lot of praise from customers who thought her hands were
magic.
The other girl, Melanie,
worked in a coffee shop. She took the dog, Lasher, with her. Before she opened
the doors of the shop, she would chant while she concocted a special drink for
the day.
“We all come from the
goddess and to her we shall return
Like a drop of rain
flowing to the ocean.”
The owner of the shop felt
lucky to have such a girl working for him and he would always ask her, “What
kind of brew are you blessing my customers with today?” Melanie would hand him
a sample of the drink on her way to open the doors.
After work Jasmine,
Melanie and Lasher would head for the sea. They liked to live outdoors in parks
overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Melanie would bring home leftover bagels and
they would stop at a stand or a farmers market for fruits and vegetables and cans
of food for Lasher.
They timed things so their
arrival back at camp every day coincided with the dolphins coming in to play
and feed. They would watch the dolphins frolic in the water while they chanted
over the food that they were preparing to eat.
“Isis Astarte Diana Hecate
Demeter Kali Inana”
Evenings slid into nights
filled with gazing at stars and reading books they checked out from the library
in Cardiff By the Sea. Melanie would play guitar and sing. Jasmine would take
Lasher for long walks.
Sometimes boys would
appear, enamored by Jasmine’s magic hands or Melanie’s melodic voice. They
would take blankets out under the stars for hours and then the boys were sent
on their way.
Life was idyllic. Such
times are usually fleeting, though, and that was the case for the two girls and
their dog. Trouble started when Lasher got sick. Melanie searched high and low
for the right veterinarian but she knew – the right veterinarian was back in
Maine. Meanwhile a bad man had become obsessed with Jasmines touch and he was
stalking her. Melanie needed to take Lasher back to Maine and Jasmine needed to
move indoors so she could protect herself.
“We all come from the
goddess and to her we shall return
Like a drop of rain
flowing to the ocean.”
They made their plans. The
last night they would spend together would be Beltane. They decided to spend it
on Black’s Beach even though getting there could be tricky. It meant climbing
down the side of a cliff covered in loose gravel with backpacks full of stuff
and with a drum tied to the bottom of the pack. There were a few scary
heart-pounding seconds of feet sliding but they arrived safely at the bottom.
A full moon filled the
surf with energy and it crashed onto the beach making a kind of watery music.
Lasher ran in and out of the water while Melanie and Jasmine built a balefire
with wood from the packs. They found comfortable spots to sit on across from
each other with the fire between them.
Journal and pen beside
them had to be weighed down with rocks as the wind threatened to carry it away.
Jasmine drew a circle of salt around them for protection. They beat their drums
and sang the chant while the surf pounded and Lasher ran everywhere building
energy to a crescendo.
“We all come from the
goddess and to her we shall return
Like a drop of rain
flowing to the ocean.
Isis Astarte Diana Hecate
Demeter Kali Inana”
They rose from their
seats, put down the drums and danced. They took turns jumping over the fire
leaving the things they wanted to let go of on one side and calling the things
they wanted to embrace into themselves on the other side.
When they started to tire
and the energy waned, they wandered back to their seats, picked up journal and
pen and wrote. They wrote of the beauty of the night. They wrote of the sorrow
put in their hearts by the reality of parting company. They begged the goddess
to reunite them someday and they vowed to continue asking until it happened.
Exhausted from dancing and
drained emotionally, they walked down to the edge of the water. They got their
feet wet in the sea and bathed their faces in the moon. They hugged and cried
until there seemed to be nothing left inside them but peace.
“Isis Astarte Diana Hecate
Demeter Kali Inana”
Their sleeping bags were
in the car and they needed to retrieve them to sleep on the beach as the night
had turned chilly. A knowing came over Jasmine and she insisted they carry
everything up to the car. They made their way slowly up the cliff face. They
were stashing things inside the trunk when a familiar man’s voice said, “You
came up. I was just about to come and join you.”
Jasmine inhaled sharply:
her stalker. She whispered quietly to Melanie, “Let’s get the car loaded and
leave quickly.” Melanie nodded. The man kept speaking and they nodded and said
uh-huhs so he wouldn’t get angry. He was focused on Jasmine so Melanie put
Lasher in the backseat, got in herself and locked all the doors except the
passenger side, Jasmine’s door. When Melanie started the car, he realized what
was happening and stepped in Jasmine’s path. Lasher started growling low in his
throat, steadily getting louder.
Jasmine took a step away
from the man and put her hand up to stop him coming closer. They stared at each
other. He started to step towards her again just as the wind kicked up and
there was the loud shrieking sound of an alarm accompanied by honking. He
turned and ran towards the noisy vehicle which must have been his. Jasmine jumped in the car, slammed and locked
her door and Melanie raced away.
“We all come from the
goddess and to her we shall return
Like a drop of rain,
flowing to the ocean.”
Melanie planned to drive
all night. She was a night owl and more comfortable that way. Jasmine was ready
to shower, eat and rest. They parted at Jasmine’s door with one last hug. She
watched until she couldn’t see the car any more then went inside.
Later in bed, Jasmine read
the words she wrote in her journal and started to envision life on her own. She
would be sad for a while but she would be okay. Hours down the road Melanie did
the same. All that remained of their time together was memory and hope.
The reading of this story
today and always is a plea to the universe. Please reunite me with my friend.
“Isis Astarte Diana Hecate
Demeter Kali Inana
We all come from the
goddess and to her we shall return
