Monthly roundup: September 2014

As inconsistent as ever, but here I am with another one of these.

This month I:

Read:

  • “The Sleepwalker” by R.L. Stine (3*)
  • “The Stepsister” by R.L. Stine (4*)
  • “College Weekend” by R.L. Stine (4*)
  • “Broken Date” by R.L. Stine (3*)
  • “Wrong Number” by R.L. Stine (2*)
  • “The Best Friend” by R.L. Stine (4*)
  • “Tiny Beautiful Things” by Cheryl Strayed (5*)
  • “Who We Are: Our Official Autobiography” by One Direction [abridged] (5*)

Watched:

  • “Brave” (3*)
  • “New Girl” s3 (5*)
  • “Devil’s Due” (2*)

Listened to:

  • Justin Townes Earle – “Single Mothers” (3*)
  • Ryan Adams – “Ryan Adams” (3*)
  • Leonard Cohen – “Popular Problems” (3*)
  • Lily and Madeleine – “Lily and Madeleine” and “The Weight of the Globe” (5*)

Did:

  • got myself lost, didn’t die, then got myself un-lost
  • had some unpleasant confrontations, didn’t die, life went on and no one hates me forever
  • spent money on myself, didn’t die, got lots of things I love and will get plenty of use from
  • remembered that Listography exists and made lots of pointless lists
  • helped out with a mobility thing that required me to walk around a downtown business district, didn’t die
  • spent a much-needed evening in the grass at the park and another outside in the country with puppies and silence
  • went to the dentist and had a deep cleaning, didn’t die, now have slightly healthier teeth
  • drove around looking at lots of houses, actually found a couple that we might contentedly live in, didn’t get a call back from one we applied for
  • went to a fall festival, didn’t have funnel cake, did have delicious lemonade, saw vintage dresses and shawls I didn’t buy, saw organic bath and body products I did buy, got very sore from so much walking
  • ate good food, had good conversations, laughed a lot, slept too much, made supermoon wishes, practiced being kinder to myself
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    Happy wagon: 09.21.14-09.27.14

    Stereotypical hippie white girl edition.

    For the first time in months, I feel like there were finally enough good things in the past week to do one of these again, if only just.

    • seeing a couple of affordable and actually habitable houses during our househunting trips–even if we don’t end up living in them, it gives me hope that eventually we’ll find the one that’s meant for us, and the secret garden backyard we saw at one of them has increased my determination to get out of apartments and onto some land where I can grow things
    • My “Antidepressants” playlist on Spotify, a work in progress of songs with no unifying theme other than that they make me feel something good, the more offensive to music snobs everywhere the better (the bulk of it is currently made up of boy bands, Disney, musicals, 90s jams, and mainstream rap and R&B)
    • buying more healthy things than unhealthy for the first time in my grocery shopping history, and, consequently, eating lots of strawberries and dark chocolate granola and carrots and oatmeal and burritos that I have to assemble myself rather than frozen ones I just put in the microwave
    • the audiobook of One Direction’s autobiography, which is abridged but worth it for the fact that they each narrate a section and are all such hilariously earnest, awful babies that I thought my chest would explode with happiness while I listened
    • realizing that I’m starting to unconsciously do some of the work of therapy for myself in my daily life without needing to be guided to it just once each week, and having that realization validated by my therapist
    • Fin and Feather, a local fall festival and craft fair which is almost as good (and terrible for my bank account) as the Renaissance Festival, where this year I found an amazing wealth of organic bath and body products sold by people who make everything themselves and usually sell it out of their homes
    • using the products for the first time and ending up with skin and hair smelling of herbs and slightly minty flowering plants
    • the ever-present but somehow still unexpected kindness of strangers, both in welcoming me into their spaces and in treating me like a person, rather than like a disability that just happens to have a person attached
    • strawberry jam, on English muffins and on toast and licked from sticky fingers
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      Review: “Songs for Ophelia” by Theodora Goss

      I was fortunate enough to receive an ARC of Theodora Goss’s poetry collection, “Songs for Ophelia”, and it has taken me an absolutely inexcusable amount of time to post about it here. There are two reasons for this. Partly, as ever, depression things–getting out of bed has taken all my attention, leaving little extra for blogging of any substance. And partly, I didn’t want to finish reading. Not because it’s a bad book, but because it’s so wonderful.

      I’m reminded of the Faerie Market from Neil Gaiman’s “Stardust”, and the glass and crystal flowers that were sold there. They seemed to be simple faerie trifles, chiefly decorative, meant only to entertain and give pleasure. But, as Tristran eventually learned, the one his father gave him was really a frozen charm, a thing of power. The same is true of the poems in this book. At first glance they seem to be simple, pretty little verses, pleasing to read but nothing of great power, but this is just a trick to lure you in, and soon you find that you’ve been wandering through the land of the faeries for ages and you’re not quite sure how to get back home. You’re not quite sure you even want to.

      Catherynne M. Valente says it best in the introduction:

      But of course, that can’t be right. I must be mistaken. Nothing elegant can be raw. Nothing delicate can break your heart. Nothing otherworldly can say anything real about the human experience. Everyone knows that. It is a universal truth, held universally.

      I guess nobody told Theodora Goss. What good fortune for the rest of us.

      The poems are divided into four sections, one for each season. I liked the spring and autumn sections best, but there really isn’t a bad poem in the bunch. They all showcase Theodora Goss’s graceful, lyrical writing beautifully, and they all possess a certain hidden sting, a lingering thorn-prick to the heart. They were the very best medicine to get me through the difficult months of summer when all I wanted to do was retreat to a cool, dark cave and be silent and still. A necessary reminder that there is beauty and life in every season.

      I am very interested in writing about and for daughters, despite the fact that I never intend to have any of my own, so I was particularly delighted to see an example of this here.

      Advice to a Daughter

      The moon’s the mistress for you: bind up your long brown hair,
      and enter into her workshop, and learn her dark technique.
      Learn to alter and falter and fatten, week to week;
      learn to glide without turning, and silently stare and stare.

      Learn her blank luminescence, and learn to daily draw
      the seas of all the world without need of net or sieve,
      to trail upon their waters one negligent white sleeve
      and confound the bearded sages with inimitable law.

      And, as anyone who knows me could attest, autumn is my favorite season, the only one during which I feel truly alive, so I was immediately drawn to this gorgeous example of everything I love about it.

      Autumn’s Song

      You are not alone.

      If they could, the oaks would bend down to take your hands,
      bowing and saying, Lady, come dance with us.
      The elder bushes would offer their berries to hang
      from your ears or around your neck.
      The wild clematis known as Traveler’s Joy
      would give you its star-shaped blossoms for your crown.
      And the maples would offer their leaves,
      russet and amber and gold,
      for your ball gown.

      The wild geese flying south would call to you, Lady,
      we will tell your sister, Summer, that you are well.
      You would reply, Yes, bring her this news –
      the world is old, old, yet we have friends.
      The squirrels gathering nuts, the garnet hips
      of the wild roses, the birches with their white bark.

      You would dress yourself in mist and early frost
      to tread the autumn dances – the dance of fire
      and fallen leaves, the expectation of snow.
      And when your sister Winter pays a visit,
      You would give her tea in a ceramic cup,
      bread and honey on a wooden plate.

      You would nod, as women do, and tell each other,

      The world is more magical than we know.

      You are not alone.

      Listen: the pines are whispering their love,
      and the sky herself, gray and low, bends down
      to kiss you on both cheeks. Daughter, she says,
      I am always with you. Listen: my winds are singing
      autumn’s song.

      These are just a couple of the treasures to be found in this collection, and if you like poetry, or beautiful things, or fairy tales, I urge you to get a copy and see for yourself. The pages are bursting with fairy tale allusions, elves, goblins, princesses, and old, elemental magics. Just be sure to take something with you to remind you of the way back home, lest you be eternally lost in a darkly enchanted forest.

      You can buy “Songs for Ophelia” from Amazon, or you can buy it from Papaveria Press, along with Theodora Goss’s other collection, “In the Forest of Forgetting”. And while I’m sharing links, you should read this blog post where she talks about the collection, and about writing poetry, and about doing what you fear.

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        Life lessons from Fear Street

        I’ve been reading a lot of the Fear Street books by R.L. Stine lately, because for some reason their ridiculous plots and terrible characters are the only things that are bringing me any happiness these days. Shadyside is an awful place to live and it’s pretty amazing that any of its residents are still living at all, but their trials have taught me some valuable life lessons and now I’m here to share them with you.

        1. If you think it’s a dead body, it’s probably just a harmless household item, or a mannequin.
        2. If you have in any way broken the law, even if that lawbreaking involves murder, running away and never owning up to it is the best, most reasonable course of action. You don’t want to ruin your whole life over a silly mistake, after all, and probably no one will ever find out what you did otherwise.
        3. Stalking, controlling, clingy behavior should really get your engine revving. The creepier and more overbearing a boy is, the more he loves you. Or at least the better the makeouts will be.
        4. Speaking of makeouts, you should have them a lot. With anyone who wants to. Even if you’re dating someone, it’s okay if you just can’t help yourself and are forced to kiss someone else. What they don’t know won’t hurt them. And if it does, oh well, they should have known better than to spend a single second without you and there are many more fish in this terrible, terrible sea.
        5. Don’t call the police at all, ever. They’re useless. You’re probably just overreacting, anyway. What’s a little crime between friends?
        6. If you suspect someone of committing crimes or plotting to kill you, you should definitely still keep hanging around them. In fact, why not spend time alone with them in an isolated place? Nothing bad could happen.
        7. Girls with short hair are never destined for anything good. Long red hair is where it’s at.
        8. If you think you’ve uncovered a nefarious plot, a really great, foolproof plan is to go and confront the people who are plotting it. Once they know you’re onto them, they’ll have no choice but to just give up.
        9. Bullying leads to murder. Have you checked up on the people you used to bully in school? You should. They’re probably plotting to murder you right now.
        10. Mentally ill people are always delusional and violent. And they probably also want to murder you. Everyone probably wants to murder you. Your best friend, your boyfriend, your sister, that random guy on the street, everyone. Never trust anyone. But especially mentally ill people.
        11. Poor people, too. They’re pretty suspicious.
        12. If you’re a girl and you step foot outside your house, you’re going to be stalked. And that stalking is probably going to involve not-very-subtle chasing. Even in the middle of a sunny day, you’re not safe. Stalking. And chasing. Everywhere.
        13. No decent teenager in a relationship would ever do more than kiss, and maybe talk about their partner having a sexy bod, if they’re very daring.
        14. But sexual assault is cool if you can’t get the person you’re interested in to be in a relationship with you in the first place. They’ll appreciate it later. Or one of you will be dead.
        15. The number one rule of dating is: don’t. It will only lead to murder. Because everything leads to murder.
        16. The number two rule of dating is: if you’re going to insist on doing it, make sure you’re actually dating the person you think you are. The likelihood is that you’re not. They’re probably an evil twin, or a person with a dark secret. Involving murder. And you’re next.
        17. The number one rule of life is: if anyone annoys, wrongs, or in any way inconveniences you, murdering them is the only logical thing to do. It’s likely that you won’t even get a very heavy sentence for it.

        I didn’t even touch on the lessons taught to us about blind people, all from one book, because that would be a whole post on its own.

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          Happy wagon: coping techniques

          It’s been a very hard week for the world, and a very hard month and a half for me. There have been few things I could make happy wagon posts about, so I haven’t made any for a while. Today, instead of making a post about the past week, I’m going to make one about the things I’ve done to cope with heaviness and sadness and hard depressive slumps in general. I’m not always good at using healthy coping skills–I’m particularly fond of avoidance–but I think I’ve found a few good things to do, and I’d like to remember them. Maybe they’ll help you, too.

          • Embrace weirdness. Do the things you usually keep yourself from doing because people wouldn’t understand, and let yourself feel comforted by them. Take a book, “Tuck Everlasting” or “Anne of Green Gables” or Goosebumps or whatever made you happy in your childhood, and curl up in the closet and read it the way you did when you were small. Turn on Alanis Morissette or Celine Dion and turn it up loud the way your mom used to do when she was cleaning. Sometimes small spaces and loud music are the only things that will keep your insides from knotting up and your hands from shaking.
          • Play 90s and 00s summer pop hits on Spotify. Listen to All-4-One’s “(She’s Got) Skillz” and smile and sway. Listen to Fall Out Boy’s “Sugar, We’re Goin Down” and sing outrageously. Listen to Blackstreet’s “No Diggity” and try to sing outrageously in between bursts of laughter.
          • Clean and clean and clean, until your house feels like a place you want to exist in again.
          • Eat food. Sleep early.
          • Listen to other people telling stories, The Moth or Snap Judgment or call your loved ones and ask them to talk to you about things.
          • Call your loved ones anyway, or email them, or texdt them, or whatever it is you do to communicate. Tell them you’re feeling sad, anxious, heavy, whatever you’re feeling. Let them help you. Trust them to know how, and, if they don’t, trust yourself to tell them.
          • Be aware of the world around you, care about people and the things that are happening to them, but remember to balance it with taking care of your own mental health. Recognize that it’s a privilege to be able to do that at all, but don’t bury yourself in guilt over it. That will help no one.
          • Talk to yourself the way you would talk to someone you love, give yourself gentle and wise council and ruthlessly smash the brainvoices that would have you believe that you deserve less, that you are less. Remind yourself that everyone has their own life to live and their own path to walk, that just because someone else is farther along their path according to what society values, it doesn’t mean they’re better or more hardworking or more deserving than you. Remind yourself of all the things you contribute to the world, however small they are. Mock yourself if you must, call these things cliches–they are, but it doesn’t make them any less true.
          • Cry a lot. Just do it. It’s okay.
          • Beyoncé, always and always and always.
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            There is magic in the myth

            Day 6 of The Enchantment Diaries from The Fable Tribe
            Day 1
            Day 2
            Day 3
            Day 4
            Day 5

            THERE IS MAGIC IN THE MYTH

            Sometimes, we’ve heard a story so many times that we don’t really hear it. Is there a story about yourself that you tell others over and over? That you’re not good enough, smart enough, that this one thing happened and that’s why you haven’t tried to create/do/be/love/hope?

            Write down the very first story that comes to mind that you tell others that makes you feel a little uncomfortable. But you always tell it, anyway.

            What if you didn’t tell it? What if you really could create/do/be/love/hope whatever it is?

            The stories you tell are powerful. Tell the stories that make you feel good.

            My story goes like this.

            I started out as a girl and I grew up into a raw nerve, the rawest and nerviest, too much, too messy. When I was young, still a girl, I wasn’t enough, I was a shadow or, sometimes, a spotlight on the ugliest and worst places, but either way, an outlier. Boys didn’t notice me because there was nothing there to notice, nothing for them to hold up and show to the world. Girls didn’t notice me because there was nothing to me that could elevate them, nothing that could make them more for boys to hold up and show to the world. It was no wonder I learned how to love alone, there was nothing about me that deserved companionship. I was all half-scrawled loose-leaf pages, held together by the slightest of skin and bones.

            When I was older, when I had become a raw nerve, I was too much, living in a world that was too little, that had made me too little. I wanted to rebel. I was too much emotion for anyone to love me, too much crazy for anyone to deal with for long. I was too lazy to do anything useful with myself, to make anything useful out of my life, to contribute anything useful to the world. I was too difficult for patience, too sad for understanding, too prickly for goodness. And, on especially bad days, I was too blind to do anything I wanted to do, to make myself happy. It was no wonder I continued to nurture that love of alone, there were too many messy feelings in me to leave room for anyone else. I was a fire barely kept in check, just waiting for that one last spark to send my whole world up in flames.

            A better, kinder story might go like this.

            I am a girl, a raw nerve, half-scrawled loose-leaf pages, and a conflagration all in one. I’m a human being, a messy, emotional human being living in a messy, emotional world. There’s a lot of ugly in me, and in the world, but there’s a lot of beauty there too, so much magic I can feel it on my skin, in my bones, beneath my feet, all around me. I’m not crazy. I’m not lazy. I may struggle with depression, anxiety, who knows what, who knows how it will manifest, how my brain will try to eat itself alive next. But I still have a life, and I can still live it.

            I’m a librarian, or a counselor, or an activist, or a baker, or a cat lady taking baby steps toward a future where anything is possible. I’m in love with so many people, and so many people are in love with me. They stand beside me and hold my hands when I need them to and maintain a strict distance when I need them to and they’re always there.

            I’m cradling my teenage self and my twenty-five-year-old self and my fifty-year-old self and my eighty-year-old self, holding them all close inside me, whispering to them again and again, as many times as they need to hear it, that they’re not too much and they’re not not enough, they’re perfect, they’re everything. They’re exactly what they were created to be, doing exactly what they were created to do. They’re going to give so much to the world, and the world is going to give so much back. It won’t always be so hard, and when it is, there will be overcoming, and overcoming, and overcoming. There will be living, and growing, and thriving. There will be a happily ever after.

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              How dearly I love this rose and hedge

              Day 5 of The Enchantment Diaries from The Fable Tribe
              Day 1
              Day 2
              Day 3
              Day 4

              HOW DEARLY I LOVE THIS ROSE AND HEDGE

              Sometimes, we seek the end of the journey so much that we forget to pay attention to the moment, to our here and now. It may not be a lofty palace, but wherever you are, even if it’s not your favorite place, has something lovely about it.

              What do you love about your current place in your life’s journey? What lovely, small things can you appreciate more?

              I chose to do this prompt today because whenever I look at it, I feel annoyed. It’s really difficult for me to think of things I enjoy about my current life, or about my current location, or about much of anything, really. I’d rather spend my time thinking about where I’d like to be and what I’d like to have, which is one of my biggest problems. Focusing all my attention on a hazy future that may or may not come to be means that I’m never fully focusing on the here and now, and that’s what I need to be doing to insure the future I want.

              So, what I love about my current place in my life’s journey. I love that I’m actually absurdly privileged in that I get to follow my own schedule, without having to worry about getting up every morning and going to a nine to five job, or going to school (yet). I love that I have family who indulge me in most of the things I want, like going to concerts and Renaissance festivals and movies. I love that I have a baby niece and I get to watch her grow and develop, becoming her own little person with her own definite attitude, and that soon she’ll be old enough for me to share all the things I loved so much as a child with her. I love that I’m able to manage going to therapy each week, where I get to dissect myself and my brain and learn how to make healthier mental and emotional choices, which will hopefully benefit me in finding more joy and love in the future. I love that I get to share my living space and expenses with someone I’ve known for more than half my life, someone I feel totally comfortable with and whose family I like and who likes a lot of the same things I like, like reading aloud and Harry Potter and indulging in childish pursuits that should probably be embarrassing but aren’t. I love that I have a mother who also likes a lot of the same things I like, like horror and bookstores and libraries and coffee shops, and who is willing to go and indulge those things with me on a pretty regular basis. And I love that I feel like I’ve finally managed to settle into the self I’m going to be for the rest of my life, that I’m secure in my ideals and convictions and I’m confident that what I present to other people is what I want them to see; no more teenage angst and insecurity or early-twenties restlessness and growing pains.

              And lovely, small things I can appreciate more. Living in an apartment where there are lots of birds and trees, right next to a wooded area and a really nice walking trail, where it’s quiet (most of the time). Having a swimming pool within easy walking distance. Having the money to buy most of the things I want, and nearby people who are always willing to help out in the event of a financial emergency. Owning so many pretty things–tea sets, fairy houses, leather-bound fairy tale books, jewelry, etc. My cat. Dresses I feel comfortable in. Perfumes that let me smell like the flower garden of my dreams. Delicious egg sandwiches and hamburgers and muffins and smoothies … there’s so much good food here.

              It’s not a perfect life and I don’t have perfect health (who does?), and I’m miles from where I want to be. But it’s nice to realize that once I stop and think about it, a lot of things are really great.

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                Intentional kindness

                In a previous post I mentioned practicing intentional kindness, and that’s something I’ve been giving a lot of thought and attention to ever since. For me, there are four main types of kindness, all equally important to creating the more positive existence I want to have. They are:

                • personal kindness, or self-kindness
                • kindness toward other living things
                • worldly kindness, or kindness toward the world at large
                • earthly kindness, or kindness toward the physical earth we inhabit

                I’m not spectacular at practicing any of these reliably, but I’m especially terrible at personal kindness and worldly kindness. My natural inclination is toward anger, and not healthy anger, which I believe is useful, but toxic anger, which makes me feel very badly. This anger, when directed at the world at large, tends to make me think that everything is awful and exhausting and people are inherently evil and nothing we do is going to make much of a difference to how we as a species treat one another. This is not helpful or productive, and I would like to change it, because it’s not even what I really believe.

                My natural inclination is also to resent the fact that I have a body that needs to be cared for, and to deny myself physical comforts or indulgences because they don’t seem very important to me. A good example of this is that on Sunday, I went to see Andrew Bird and it was a standing concert, and afterward my feet were in agony. On Monday, I went grocery shopping, and my two-year-old niece came along, so it was a more drawn-out trip than it would otherwise have been, and that only made the state of my feet worse. Rather than soaking them or applying warmth to them as my mom suggested, I just ignored it and forced myself to walk on them anyway, and now, my left foot is in a worse state than ever and it hurts to put pressure on that heel.

                So, here are some things that I’m trying to make more of a conscious effort to do, to cultivate this intentional kindness and improve my life and how I feel about it:

                Personal kindness:

                • looking at bathing and its aftermath (skin care, hair care, etc) as a sacred ritual, caring for my body as a sacred vessel, rather than as a tedious inconvenience I really don’t have the energy to bother with
                • spending money on myself semi-regularly, when I have it to spend, rather than denying myself things I really want because buying for myself doesn’t seem important enough to waste money on
                • saying no to things when I don’t want to do them, giving myself time to recover after doing a difficult thing, being more patient with myself and my mental health in general

                Kindness toward other living things:

                • going a little out of my way to do nice things for other people sometimes, even if I’d rather not, even if I feel like it might inconvenience me
                • practicing patience with people whose views differ from mine, especially when those people are family, deciding when it’s worth it to engage in arguments and when it’s better to let it go
                • creating and nurturing community (I’m going to write a separate post about this)
                • spending more time with animals that aren’t my own cat
                • maybe finding a way to do something to help injured or sick animals?
                • gardening, even if it’s just caring for potted plants because that’s all I can do in an apartment, actually spending time focusing on the plants, watering them regularly, growing herbs that I can use in making things

                Worldly kindness:

                • resisting the impulse to read every single news item and blog post about the things I feel passionate about, because often those things expose the uglier sides of humanity and `sometimes I’m just not in a headspace where I can adequately handle it
                • seeking out more things that inspire and uplift me, and focusing on those at least as much as I focus on the things that incorporate more negativity
                • surrounding myself with people who remind me of the good in the world, spending less time on people who embody the bad

                Earthly kindness:

                • making more of an effort to buy natural and organic products and foods, budgeting so that although they’ll always be too expensive, I can make them a little more justifiable
                • spending some time researching ingredients, making a list of things to look for and things to avoid, and researching things before I buy them to be sure they’re actually what they say they are
                • recycling?
                • giving my money to environmentally conscious businesses and causes

                And, the most important thing of all:

                • sending out what I’d like to get back, positive energy, nurturing energy, healing energy, peaceful energy

                It looks like a lot, but I don’t think it is, really, and it should be doable. Most of it is what I should already be doing anyway, but depression things and anxiety things and exhaustion things tend to get in the way, and also selfishness things and laziness things, sometimes, if we’re being totally honest. So, here’s to a kinder, more peaceful, more positive life.

                PS. I’ve missed a couple of happy wagon posts and June’s monthly roundup because I’ve been having a worse time than usual, and I had intended to go back and at least make up the roundup, but now I’m not sure that will happen. It seems absurdly late. Here’s to eternally lazy, inconsistent blogging habits, too!

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                  Happy wagon: 05.25.14-05.31.14

                  Better late than never.

                  • doing mobility and remembering the entire route, with only minor stumbles, after being very anxious about it for weeks beforehand
                  • my Wicked Girls poster arriving in the mail from Seanan McGuire (I don’t have a picture yet, but soon, when I’ve actually put all the posters I’ve collected on the walls)
                  • getting a little lost and problem-solving instead of panicking about it
                  • getting a little closer to a formal diagnosis, which will make it easier to effectively treat
                  • spirited and enthusiastic singalongs to music that I’m regularly made fun of for listening to (i.e., the One Direction “Where We Are” tour setlist on Spotify)
                  • the Renaissance Festival, which is my second favorite time of the year after Halloween, where I got sweaty and disgusting, bought things I didn’t really need, ate funnel cake and drank delicious lemonade, and interacted with more strangers than I do throughout the entire rest of the year
                  • making a concerted effort to spend time quietly, without the distractions of television or audiobooks in the background, trying to listen to and sort out the clamor of my own thoughts
                  • an upswing in my moods, probably brought on by a combination of B complex vitamins, spending time outside in the sunshine, and letting myself do things that make me feel happy and good
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                    My kingdom of everlasting blue

                    Day 4 of The Enchantment Diaries from The Fable Tribe
                    Day 1
                    Day 2
                    Day 3

                    MY KINGDOM OF EVERLASTING BLUE

                    We are all monarchs of our own life. But there are other kingdoms. The kingdoms of our hearts and minds, the kingdoms of our stories and memories.

                    And the kingdoms of our futures.

                    What is the kingdom you would rule? What does this future kingdom and life look like? How do you, as its sovereign, take care of and shape it? How do you nurture it and make it prosper?

                    Write down the eventual kingdom of your life that you would like to experience, and what you would do to attain it.

                    I don’t want anything grand or great out of my future kingdom. No wars won, no lands conquered, no adoring subjects. All I want is a little cottage-style house, near running water, in an area that allows me to be surrounded by nature but not so far out from a city that travel is inconvenient. I would like to have many bird visitors, and other wildlife will be welcome so long as it doesn’t harm anything. A garden, plants thriving in soil from the ground rather than in soil from a pot, trees for climbing, for swinging and for fruit-bearing. Cats, always, and bookshelves, and a small piano. A porch swing. Coziness.

                    My most important sovereign duties will be to instill kindness and love in everything around me, to oversee the kingdom’s traditions of elaborate breakfasts and afternoon naps, to bring books together with the people who will love them most in the library where I’ll work, and to use my creative powers to entertain the other kingdom-dwellers. Other important tasks will include spending regular time in the garden, hands in the soil and heart reaching out to the plants, feeding the birds, being quiet with myself so that I can reenergize and always be ready to greet others with welcome and gladness, and petting cats.

                    To attain this kingdom, I’ll have to do a lot of things I really don’t want to do. I’ll have to go back to school, so that I can become qualified to work in the library of my dreams, spend considerable time working on mobility so I can travel confidently on my own, learn to cook and bake to facilitate elaborate breakfast traditions (I want to bake, not to cook), and get a lucrative enough job so that I can buy and furnish my house, plant my garden, and care for my various animal companions. I’ll also have to practice intentional kindness, because hostile anger actually comes much more easily to me and that has no place in my ideal future kingdom. Healthy anger might have its place, in moderation, but kindness and gentleness will be the guiding principles.

                    In summation, I’m so twee I’ll make your teeth ache.

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