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Work 4 Peace,Hold All Life Sacred,Eliminate Violence! I am on my mobile version of the door-to-door, going town-to-town holding readings/gatherings/discussions of my book "But What Can I Do?" This is my often neglected blog mostly about my travels since 9/11 as I engage in dialogue and actions. It is steaming with my opinions, insights, analyses toward that end of holding all life sacred, dismantling the empire and eliminating violence while creating the society we want ALL to thrive in

Wednesday, November 07, 2012

Solitaire and dreams


This is my 5th day of not playing solitaire on the computer. I am going thru withdrawal. I used solitaire as those in intense physical pain use morphine to dull the anguish.

Computer games have been like tv for me in my life – something I abhor, detest, know harms me, my thought patterns, my perspectives – and everyone elses.

Also, my mom, who died way before personal computers were invented and marketed, called tv the “idiot box”, and sharply threatened us when we balked at reading or entertaining ourselves with “do you want to become like the old man sitting in a room by himself playing solitaire?”

She scorned solitaire and the people whose lives reduced them to singular games of solitaire. The sign of utter loneliness and a useless life, for sure.

But when my daughter dismissed me, as her support, as Jasi’s grandmother, the hurt was so deep, I spent hours (I’m sure, tho time was endless) daze, weeks playing solitaire – and feeling the strain on my eyes.

I’m blessed with a set of eyes that don’t need glasses to read! I have worn glasses since the 3rd or so grade, for seeing the blackboard, seeing far away.

But as I aged, turned 50 and so did some of my friends, they marveled at how I can still read the small print on bottles, the 14K mark on jewelry, often testing me, demanding I read what they thrust into my face.

And to their great displeasure then morphing into surprised pride, I could read it every time. Now I’m 62 and still reading the small print, although needing more and more bright and brighter lite to accomplish this.

Also, what a distraction from life, focusing one’s brain cells on red diamonds and black clubs, passing time, precious time trying to outsmart the cards – while dulling the terrible heart aches.

I found myself drifting off to sleep placing the black three on the red four, remembering and redoing moves I’d missed earlier, changing the card faces to be the ones I needed.

I want to keep track of my dreams - what a luxury! And I don’t want to dream about cards.

I remember one dream, because I want to tell Liz. I dreamt I was on a bus and going to the back door to get off. An old, pale hand reached out and grabbed my sleeve with the strength of a vice, and I helped an old womon down the stairs.

It was Liz’s mother, and Liz was standing at the bottom of the stairs, outside the bus looking up at us, admonishing her mother, telling her she can do it herself.

At the last step, her mom let go of me – and I of her – and she slid down onto the ground, scraping her back on the iron steps.

The same nite I had this dream, I also dreamt of Jasi – I can’t remember that dream, but I tried to note it.

I had another dream of being somewhere with a couple of friends, I don’t know who, and we were asking directions of this white man. He told us & I understood, motioning for my friends to come on – we were in a rush.

They stood there and kept listening to him as he repeated the same directions over and over, asking questions, making him specify more exact directions.

I felt so irritated and tried to convince them, it’s easy, I’ve been here before, I know where it is, I know what I’m doing.

Finally, everyone got in the truck. I wasn’t driving for some reason, but I was navigating. It was just one right & then ahead, there was a circle. Construction was happening at the circle so traffic was being diverted.

We wanted to go to the circle, so we pulled into a side street to park. I told whoever was driving to stop, someone was coming out of a parking space ahead of us. She doesn’t stop but passes the car.

I’m irritated again, because we will miss the parking spot. I jump out and take over the wheel, backing up the truck swiftly before the on-coming car, who also wanted to park, positioned itself to be first.

We get the spot & I pull the truck in, mollified, we were able to park.

I wake up every two hours here it seems. I’m sure I’m asleep by 10, maybe earlier. Midnight I get up, pee, go back to sleep – forget to write down my dreams.

The next time I look at the clock it is 4am – I have gotten up twice more during the night, almost filling my pee bucket to the top! But forgetting to fill my paper with my dreams.

I read until 6am, when I go jogging.

This morning, I find it blissful to not know who the next president is, whether the death penalty has been outlawed, gmo labeling a go!

I will go now & see.

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