It Has A Certain Ring To It…

I’ve been slightly obsessed with – rings – lately, & I don’t know why.

You see, I’ve never really been much of a jewelry person. Oh, I’ve always had a couple of pieces that I wear, ones that I rarely take off, like my pentacle necklace (representing my faith), & some tiny gold hoops that sit in the top cartilage of my left ear (pierced by my best friend shortly after high school).

And each piece of jewelry that I wear usually has a story behind it, a personal meaning for me, that is the reason it gets worn.

So, what’s the story behind my recent need to wear more & different rings? 

Not a clue. Really, it’s odd.

But, here’s a brief description of what I’m wearing on my hands right now, & what they each mean. (In no particular order of importance to me)

First up – Right hand:

Thumb – A sterling silver pentacle ring. Again, representative of my faith, & a daily reminder to myself to balance the elements of my life.

Index finger- triple fidget ring. This ring represents my kids to me. I have 3, & a lot of times, they make me fidgety.😜

Ring finger- sterling silver ring with oval amber stone. This stone for me represents healing & preservation of memories. 

Left Hand-

Thumb- electroplated sterling with cz & opal inlay stones. This ring I purchased through an introvert group page, and to me, it’s just really pretty & subtle, while having some “spark” to it. I love the blue-green tones of the opal.

Pinky – This has 2 rings. The first is a simple band of hematite, which is a protective stone that “bounces” outside negativity away from me. I have a tendency to pick up easily & take on other people’s emotional states if I’m not careful, so this is a necessary accessory for me.

The 2nd ring is a gold band with 7 white sapphires. This is extremely sentimentally important to me, as it was my sister, Midnite’s ring before she passed away in 2009. My beloved Nephew gave it to me after her passing, & I wear it in her honor.

Ring finger – sterling silver 2-strand braided band. No, I’m not married. This ring I specifically bought for myself. It reminds me that I am truly the only person I can always count on to take care of ME, and that I need to remember to rely on myself, have faith in myself & trust that I will always get through the tough times.

I’ve been let down, abandoned, hurt, mentally, physically, & sexually abused in my past. I’ve made it through everything. Yes, I have friends & family who’ve helped me in the past with dealing with some of those situations, but the one, constant thing in my life has always been – ME, obviously.

This ring is my reminder to never again put all my faith in someone else, or try to rely on believing that others will be there…because too many times, they haven’t been. It’s my “Stand tall on your own two” ring.

There are other rings I have, that I wear occasionally, but these are the semipermanent ones for now. This is the story I wear on my hands at the moment, & whether there’s anyone out there who sees these rings & “gets” this story – I know it. I’m living it. And this is my current expression of it.

Tremble

Anxiety has been so bad tonight. It’s been bad for the last couple of weeks.

But not to look at me.

If you just look, I am normal – smiling, joking, & getting along, doing my work, handling my business…

This is the face of anxiety.

But…

Take another look at the eyes.

Take a good look.

There’s tension there.

There’s a twitch, just there in the corner of one eye, constantly fluttering.

There’s a tightness around the eyes, pulling at the edges, headache darting between the brows.

The smile looks almost real, though, doesn’t it?

Slightly wilted, tired, resigned.

But it fools the masses.

And makes sure that no one notices the trembles.

The hint of vibration that never leaves.

My body is wound so tightly I feel like an over-tuned violin, ready to snap as soon as the bow draws across it the first time.

And this – is the face after the crash.

The face that no one sees.

The worry drawn tight over the brow.

The grief and guilt filling in the mouth.

The resignation that smears the vision.

Knowing it’s just a matter of time before the other shoe drops.

Nobody gets to see this face if I can help it.

It shatters the illusion that everything works. That I’m Ok, all lights green across the board, engines full and running at capacity.

This is the face after the mask comes off.

I’m tired of hiding, of pretending. I’m tired of everyone thinking that anxiety is just a random worry.

It’s not.

It’s real, it’s painful, it’s constant & it’s not something I can be rid of just by “calming down”.

I take medication every day to control the worst of it, or I probably wouldn’t be able to function.

This- is my reality.

It’s not the whole of who I am.

But it is real.

And that’s what I’m here, blogging for.

To be in one place where I can be real.

My nephew and I talk honestly to each other all the time. We don’t pull our words back, because we don’t have to. 

But there are times when I need to see the words in front of me, splayed out like a bloody corpse, flayed, raw & bleeding all over the page.

Therapy at it’s deepest level.

Minus the shiny buckles on the strapped jacket.

Guilty? Pleasure

Weekends are usually quiet for me, anymore. I don’t go out, unless it’s to Hellmart for groceries, & I don’t spend a lot of time on the phone. 

Well, not talking to others, anyway.

I did spend a lot of time with my phone this weekend…reading.

I’ve become quite addicted to my Kindle app.

*Gasp! Horror! Blasphemy!*

No, seriously.

I feel as though I’ve let my book-loving nerdy side down by reading books on my phone.

But I can’t stop. 

I think I burned up my battery 10 times this weekend, tearing through a whole series of digital books.

Yes, I still love read honest-to-goddess real paper books. 

But, I’m now paying for Kindle Unlimited….

And I’m not ashamed.

Well… Not really.

(For you, Youngerdaughter)

Translate Me

There’s a code,

Written into the pieces of me

Mysterious and complex

It speaks in forms unknown

Turning this on, turning that off

Flipping genetic switches at seeming random

Lighting fires within, only to douse them later, with no explanation or apology

It’s a book, 50, 100, 1 million volumes thick, written in a language I cannot read

My own body and mind, a saga I cannot comprehend without another’s key.

“The Divine Mystery” some may call it, as they turn away from the puzzle to things they can digest. The depth and breadth of the conundrum too much for them to contemplate, they have no further wish to attempt the struggle.

But for me, I wish to delve deeper, to try to understand the whys and wherefores, the hows and whats of Me.

I seek, not only to understand for my own self, but to translate – to gain understanding, the internal “ah-hah!” from others. To see the light go on when they understand that I am the way I am because…THIS. And THAT. And THESE.

Logic and science dance seductively with emotion and faith, all swirling in their patterns together, intertwining in hypnotic rythmns, only to break violently & inexplicably from each other for no apparent reason. Then, quietly meeting again in the middle of the dance floor, to touch hands & make apologies, while agreeing to disagree.

Where does the dance begin? How does it end? And what is the meaning of that complicated bobble of steps in the middle? These are things I seek, words I reach for.

But first, I must decode my skin, my organs, my brain. I must Translate Me.

And that…might take a minute.

*written in response to the Daily Prompt*

The Slow Regard of Silent Things

I just finished reading this book. The one that titles this post, by Patrick Rothfuss.

It’s a small slice of one character, a small, side character in other books he’s written, which starts with The Name of the Wind. 
Auri, the character in this story, is sweet, quiet, & broken. She hides from the world around her, flitting through shadowed places, & doing things in a way that make no sense to the “normal” world, but are totally true to herself & her perception of the world.

It reminds me a lot of Mr. God, This Is Anna, another slow, sweet, broken story about a lost girl who knows who she is, but has trouble fitting into society.

Both of these stories ring a true bell inside my heart, for different reasons, but mostly for the fact that, while these girls are completely & utterly true to their own natures, they are forever outsiders in their world at large. Each deals with this disconnect in their own way. One retreats into a quiet, safe (for her) existence, interacting only briefly & enigmatically with a chosen few… While the other is open & extroverted in her attempts to get others to understand where she is speaking from.
And I, I have found myself sliding from the extroverted “Anna” to the introverted “Auri”, retreating further & further, making fewer attempts to explain, or to try to at least get others to accept, my differences.

I’ve found that, most others either simply don’t care enough to try to understand, or fear the explanation, and what it might mean for their perceptions.  
It does no good to try to wring water from a stone… The best you can hope for, is that someday, lightning will strike, splitting a crack in the stone, & let the water trickle through.

Until then, I will keep my innermost thoughts relegated to the few who grace my closest circle, & this blog, if I feel like sharing.
Auri, I understand your yearning to stay in the Underthing, for us broken souls must stay in our true and proper place.

Dream Interpretation – The Marten

Most of the time, I don’t remember much about my dreams. Flashes, impressions, feelings, maybe a short “flash fiction” style scene, is usually all I carry into my waking day.

But, once in a while, I’ll have a dream so vivid, so full of senses, that I not only remember it when I wake up, I carry it around in my head for days, until I figure out what it means for me.

(This happened shortly before Xmas, too, & the dream then led me to email the Dragon, which is another story entirely)

Anyway, the dream I had just a couple nights ago, was just as vivid & full of sensory detail, & I’ve been mulling it over inside my head ever since.

In the dream, I was told by someone that “the marten you saved is inside the barn, you should check on it”.

Which to me was a confusing statement in & of itself, because I don’t think about martens much, & haven’t ever seen one, except in pictures. What is a Marten, you ask?

Not something that would have registered in my waking mind as something important, as they aren’t native to ND, where I live, so I wasn’t sure, in the dream, why the person who told me this was so specific as to the kind of creature.

So, I went into the barn, & to the stall where this little critter was curled in a great pile of fresh straw, almost sleeping, & seemingly, very relaxed.

But, as soon as I crouched down near it, it jumped up, very excited, & rushed over to me, crawling up into my arms, nuzzling me, & chittering at me quite animatedly.

I just sat there, holding this warm, vibrating furry creature, & felt totally at peace, as though it were perfectly natural to have a wild animal, related to wolverines, badgers & weasels, snuggled in my arms like a house cat.

And then I woke up.

I did some research on martens, just to satisfy my curiosity about this unexpected dream, & in reading about martens as a totem animal, came upon some surprising information that sounded completely familiar & made me laugh at myself.

Taken quotes from Spirit Animal Personalities on blogspot

SOCIAL OVERVIEW:

♦ Introverted, independent
♦ Not manipulative of people
♦ Reputation as a bit of a quiet hermit
♦ Don’t make new friends easily or often
♦ Social activity can be stressful, awkward
♦ Reserved and reclusive, but playful around friends
♦ Uninterested in people and in opening up to people
♦ Do not recognise or place themselves within social hierarchies
♦ Make for non-commital but non-judgemental and truthful friends

INTELLECTUAL OVERVIEW

♦ Very inquisitive
♦ Not perfectionists
♦ Tend to procrastinate
♦ Likes to keep options open
♦ Healthy amount of cautious
♦ Always prefer to work alone
♦ Seem disorganised and easy-going
♦ Do not function well under a spotlight

EMOTIONAL OVERVIEW:

♦ Conflict avoidant
♦ Emotionally guarded
♦ Clear comfort zones
♦ Sometimes insensitive
♦ Capable of being vicious
♦ Often passive-aggrepeople

PERSONAL OVERVIEW:


♦ Adaptable
♦ Terrtorial and private
♦ Protective of things and ideas, not people

And while I agree completely with most of these traits, & see them very clearly inside myself, I don’t agree with the part about me being non-commital towards people, & not being protective of friends.

I am fiercely devoted to the people I care about, & will defend &/or protect them with all I have in me. This includes blood family And Chosen Family. 

I’m actually better at protecting & defending others than myself. Just ask my kids, or even better, my Nephew – he who knows all the nitty gritty.  I suck at backing myself up, & will usually be the first to take blame or lay guilt on myself in any situation.

So! *briskly rubbing my hands together*

What does this dream mean for me? Well, I’ve taken it to mean that I have a new totem animal, the marten, & I need to explore this some more. I’ve already been exploring my introvert nature, & I’ve been working on accepting it, instead of treating it as though it was a problem or deficit of character.

I think this is the next logical step, really, & look forward to learning more. 

I already feel there is another Goddess/God calling me as well.  Kwan Yin will always be my Boddhisatva, but she knows I have more room in my heart for love & devotion. Love multiplies itself & expands the boundaries of the heart to encompass all. That’s the main lesson She taught me.

I’m ready to learn more.

Bring on the Dreams.