Grabbing the golden ring...or, A Return to Brighter Things...

On a cloudy Wednesday...

I am meditating. Or rather, trying to… my mind is bombarded with thoughts
and ideas, and the worries and frustrations I woke up beneath. They feel
rather like the hangover from a dream you don’t quite remember, but bits
of which haunt and tease and linger until you are awake enough to realize,
it was just a dream.

I have been trying to choose a path. For my life, for the day. Just some
direction which feels like there is a good chance of ending up in
a winning place. But these thoughts, and ideas and plans and schemes..
none of them stay or stick, so I feel like I am riding in the boat with
Willy Wonka through that disorienting tunnel . I am desperate for
somewhere to focus my attention and energy and hope. I am desperate for
hope.

I rode on a merry-go-round in the San Diego zoo back in the early ’80s,
and as you went around, there was a golden ring you could try to snag.  I was young then,and strong and had not been damaged nearly as much as I have by now. It was a fun game, an adventure, and of course, I won. I mean, you don’t get to keep the ring. It’s only gold in color anyway.

But today, I am staggering under the effects of so many hits and losses
and a supreme underlying sense of loss and failure. I feel too old to
reinvent myself, too tired, and in a constant state of random chronic pain.
I feel an anxiousness over the state of my mind.

I am an easy target for discouragement.

And there is this woman… this hissing snake...

She stood beside my bed all night and whispered in my ear

“You’ll never do the things you dream,

And besides, your end is near.”

She smiles down as I toss and turn and

Just as morning breaks

A sense of dread lies over me

I’m palsied in its wake

With nothing in my mind to grasp

No hope on which to cling

Poisoned by the devil’s asp

I have no song to sing.

I drag myself throughout the day 

The moments lost to dreaming

To wondering how life got away

Outside the sun’s still beaming.

But in my heart a darkness

I seem powerless to resist

Cloaks me in despair until

I just wish life would quit

When suddenly I notice

A small and flickering light

I crawl my way to where it sits

And try to fan it bright

And I remember, for a moment

That girl who used to dream

Who used to hope, Used to believe

She was made for better things

And as I catch her eye, I find

A surge of power there

And I breathe in deep to pull it in

That drought of pure, fresh air

And it sobers me and sets me straight

It renews my spirit and fire

It causes me to contemplate

The nature of hope and desire

And I laugh with her, this younger me

At the futility of doubt

For she lives as hope inside of me

That I may live without.

Now, I shall meditate, free. Free to breathe, and know that I am choosing.
I am choosing the woman I am. I am choosing the thoughts to let run
through my mind. 

I choose that bright beautiful girl full of hope, innocent to the evils
of the world. I choose to let them be there, if they must, but not
to let them touch my heart. I need it to live.

If I were to go to that old zoo and ride that merry-go-round again, well,
I wouldn’t. I mean, life is a river with eddies and whirlpools that can take
you down, or at the very least have you spinning in one spot and disorienting
you to where the shore is. That is excitement enough, challenge enough.
I am not a fan of randomly engaging in a game of riding a stationary object
in a tight circle where there is likely no prize but dizziness. But, it occurs
to me if I did, and I wanted that golden ring, it might be more direct to just
dismount and walk directly to it. I know, there are rules. That is cheating.
Or is it?

With that thought, I choose to step outside the tight circle, the whirling
vortex of my thoughts and feelings. I choose to employ today’s fresh spark
of hope and let it energize me, so I can shake their tired old filth off,  pick
one golden ring and just head directly for it. Today, I will cheat that asp.
She is a liar anyway. I will do the things I dream.

If I can do this today, and tomorrow, and so on, I should have a pretty nice
stack of golden rings one day! They are symbolic in nature, but I think I will
be able to trade them up for something really amazing!

(The middle pic is of me in 1978... I am wearing a shared jumper from the store that was called Merry-Go-Round!) Hey, Nan!