Strange This Life…

It is closing in on the witching hour of midnight.  I have had a rather eventful week, yes?

On the rise of the day I got up and did my 5 KM run. Now I had hoped that I would feel strong enough to do the 6 KM route, but such was not the case.  I am coming off of an illness, so I will listen to the body.

From there I attended my session with the specialist (a.k.a. gynecologist).  I always wondered why someone decides to specialize in vaginas.  Not that I am complaining…just curious.  I showed for my appointment and the good doctor had an intern in training.  Quite GQ in appearance I must say.  He took my family history and  background info. Then he and the good doctor appeared telling me that they would hopefully be able to tell me my condition upon leaving the office.  Now this I liked.  And the doctor didn’t think my condition ‘sinister’.  Most likely a polyp on the inside of my uterus, but I would likely have to kiss an ovary goodbye.

Okay, I thought.  I can dig it. With the speculum in place I smiled and said “I’m ready for my close-up.” With that a camera was fed up my vaginal corridor and as it passed the cervix a rude awakening…yes, they already were aware at this point I have a tilted uterus…I like to think of it as crooked.  Just born that way you see.

He attempted to feed the camera into the uterus, but this just was not going to happen.  Pain..though mild occurred and so I will go back in  month and take cervix relaxants.  No biopsy possible.  But I am feeling much better about this process.

I am to run 16 km on Sunday morning.  Oye!

I am gaining in strength…I know this…I hope I am well enough.  And all these odd little ramblings working this head of mine.  I am reviewing a book by a member of writing group.  It is about zombies.  They have become quite popular as of late, though in truth I am don’t know why.  I am not one for trends and following them.  If anything they make me curious as to our humanities state of mind.

Gareth is a good writer though.  I would not typically go out and purchase books in this genre.  But I must say, if this group has taught me anything it is good writing.  He tells a good story.  The writing is solid and engaging.

I think about my own writing.  I hope that I am developing my craft.  Becoming better.

Things have been strange lately.  I feel like I am all over the map then so isolated.  While I want to zero in on certain things they at times seem abstract and minimal.  A million things slip through my head and I am standing still wondering which direction to take.

I think about this Twitter thing.  Wonder about it’s  validity.  How strange this life at times becomes.  I am releasing some of my intimate thoughts to people who don’t know a thing about me otherwise.  All they know is of the words I have parlayed in this blog of mine.

Are any of you really curious about me?  Do you wonder what it would be like to sit in that obsolete notion of conversation with me?

I engage in conversation regularly.  It feeds me.  I need to touch  base with other humans regularly.  And as I  ramble about the physical body that seemingly sometimes falls apart on me, I divine that will not be the case and push it forward.

Bucket lists.  I have heard much of these in the past while.  All the things that we want to do before passing from this life.  Can I tell you what I want?  It may sound odd, unimportant…but I just want to be.

I want to live in each moment as I am blessed with and feel it to its core.  Hold it so close for that moment. Experience that truth.

I want to see something of this world.  But I am not one to lay on a beach to be baked by the  sun.  Is there an ideal ‘vacation’ for me?  I don’t know.  I just like to touch base with my fellow beings on this planet of ours.

And so I think about these little oddities.  I will go home.  Slip into my bed and ponder many abstract things before entering the sleep realm.

As of late a dream that I had in the early 1990’s has been afforded some attention.

Briefly in the early 1990’s I read a book called ‘Awakenings’  It was a book about dreams and lucid dreaming.  The premise was to keep a dream journal.  Focus on what the dream made you feel and to later re-occurring people, place and things and how they made me feel.

Now you see from a  very early age I  had night terrors.  (You will have to buy the book once published to fined out why 🙂 )   In any case, this one dream I had found me on a hill encased naked in a glass box.

Men could reach in and do what they wanted.  They could poke, prod, punch, jab, etc.  I  cried and sobbed while encased in this glass like casket unable to get away.  Then I heard the sound of the horse as it approached.  My old friend, from childhood, who always entered my dreams thundered down the hill and rearing up screamed a warning to the men who now scattered angrily.  I curled in a ball and listened as the hooves came down repeatedly smashing the encasement.  The men now were tossing ropes over the head of the horse to restrain it.  “Go!  I will find you !”  the horse expressed to me.  And I ran down the hill.

I found myself in New Westminster.  Now I had never lived in New West in my early years.  My brother had been housed our here in a home for the mentally disabled.  Not a nice place.  But I digress.

I found myself wandering the streets of New Westminster looking for my spirit horse.  At the bottom of a hill I found a compound of horses looking as though they were all close to death.  My horse was there.  I discovered they were going to make the animals into glue and dog food.  I felt shattered.

I went to a café across the street and announced my dismay at this.  The regulars there agreed to help me and created a diversion so that I could open the gate and free the horses. And my horse came to me and I sent him off smiling and said “I will find you.”

Why is this dream from the 1990’s significant, you ask?

For many years after this dream I shut down.  Found movement an effort.

When I bought my condo in New West an odd awakening occurred…and yes, as I began to run again…I found my  beautiful sprit horse that has walked with me since childhood.  For me there is such a strong connection.  It is just crazy.  I am finding my freedom.  I am reconnecting… I am finding self.

I kept these dream journals, as obscure as they may be….and now, I see the a truth they projected.

Take nothing for granted.  We have this moment, nothing more.  Do I need to fall from a plane…do I need to ski  down a mountain?  Do I need a rush on white rapids to feel alive?

No.  I don’t need to touch death to feel alive.

All I  need is to feel love. To feel the energy that surrounds me.

I will feel afraid at times, as I have in the past few weeks.  Reminded always of my mortality.  I am human. Nothing more.  I will die. But before that happens… no bucket list.   Not really. I just want to live.  To know that I have opened myself fully to this miracle I was given as tragic as it may have started.  Perhaps that is the thing of it.  The lesson.

To take the gift of life and truly appreciate it.


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