Friday morning. friends from the city are staying with us.

everybody is still sound asleep. the house is quiet. the cats are fed. the coffee is brewed, I'm the only one drinking it. 

i woke up with a headache.  i had too much wine last night and i stayed up too long. consequently,  i feel very tired and worn out.

while drinking my coffee I'm reading  the news. it's my daily dose of panic and fear and i start the day stressed and worried. the thoughts are spiraling around the same subjects. it's fruitless but it seems to be the kind of junk food i need for my system.  a worried mind can be very self destructive. its feeding itself with endless repetitions and grows stronger by the minute. there might be no cure nor answer to the growing panic attacks. 

it's another grey day, not too cold though.  i think the plan of the day is to drive to MassMoCa via Troy. why not. It is my running day, too. 

 'the answer my friend is blowing in the wind'.. 

The road not taken. 

I'm not quite sure why this sentence came to my mind this morning but now it is here. big bold, prominent. i spent a few hours  this morning on the web, on news sites and on social sites and i feel - despite these activities - disconnected. time is consumed by this activity and it leaves me restless and confused. these hours did  stir up the unpleasant feeling of being 'out of touch with the latest developments of our world'. all these various ways to put yourself out there. social media. polls. become a friend. etc. this is just the tip of the iceberg. 

and yet there is another reality. right outside my window. the fields, covered with snow. the sun sparkling. the cold wind. the silence. the vast blue sky. and there is a warm cup of coffee. a quiet house. a cat. flowers on the table. the blackberry next to me. the tick tock of the clock on the wall.

the racing thoughts. the endless questions. the road not taken. which one, which of the many?

and would have any other road eventually.. and what does it matter now? the roads to take, the roads waiting to be taken. where do they start and how do i get there?

its a gorgeous day. bright sunlight, yet bitterly cold and windy. 

i got an email this morning from an old acquaintance of mine. 

i really enjoy hearing from people, especially these days. it radiates a sense of connectedness, like fine threads running through me knitting a network of possibilities and interactions. 

what little it takes - sometimes - to change the tone of a day.

years ago, a girlfriend of mine bought the book ' the artists way' for me and I remember vividly a specific chapter, in which the author talked about regaining a sense of possibilities. She suggested using a stack of cards for writing down all the things one longs for and wishes to happen. i think this 'technique' is called  visualizing. the more concretely the ideas and wishes are expressed the greater the chances for them to come true. my refrigerator was one big pinboard, paper pieces of various colors and sizes were pinned all over the fridge. looking back now many of my wishes  did come true,  maybe not necessarily  in the form i had anticipated them, but they materialized.... 

with this said, maybe there is a bigger picture, maybe there are energies and possibilities coming our way, which we don't know of yet. is it really  faith, which I lack ? 

i got up this morning and felt like organizing the house. there is only little i can do as the piles of paper and prints are not mine. i can only observe the ever growing chaos, but it does upset me and i have a very hard time to separate myself from it. 

the house seems small this morning and I'm thinking of my books, stored thousands of miles away. boxes and boxes. i miss them. they formed me. they were part of my life. once. 

everything changes always. really? 

in my world there is a tremendous gap between my reality and all these various wise  pieces advice. every day there is an email coming my way suggesting 'how to enjoy the day' and 'how to live happily'.. all these well intended simplified messages. they are floating through the wireless world. it's an ongoing bombardment. 'count your blessings', 'be grateful', 'stay positive', 'see the chance in this' and so on. it's tiresome. it's pointless. with these simple messages the sender's responsibility is lifted. no need for empathy, no need to reach out. no need to get up. instant soul food. ' be happy', ' think positive', the power of the presence' and so on and so forth.....

where is this going here? i guess i shall say > Happy Sunday and keep smiling >.

Saturday morning. my cat came home yesterday. saturday morning. the sun is powerful today and the temperatures should rise above 32 F . I have to catch up with my every-other-day run, before I stop again. since I'm out of shape it's an effort to get myself motivated and going. I don't look forward to the run as I used to. it feels more like a have-to and not a want-to. I'm not enjoying how often i have to stop, because my heart is beating so fast. i try to catch my breath. i mourn the 'old day's' when I could run for an hour, almost effortlessly. of course i know that the only way to get back into condition is to train. every other day. but my system - or shall i say my psyche? - is more focused on coming up with excuses for today, why i should not run today, why it would be so much better to push the run to tomorrow. i spent so much time negotiating with myself about the run, that I could be back home already from the run! 

I truly wonder why the interruption of a routine results so very often in giving it up entirely. 

what is it that makes us forget how much we enjoyed what we did? what makes it so difficult to get back? what happened to the energy? why is it easier to sit around and think than it is to get up and going? i love to plan and structure, which isn't too bad of a quality. but i can get lost in trying to find the perfect plan, hours go by with planning and re-planing, because the time consumed by this process forces me to re-schedule the day again and again. On one hand I have a very good sense of time - how long things will take - on the other hand I have a tendency to say 'i don't have enough time' very easily, which - I think - is actually a synonym for saying ' i don't' want to do this' or 'i would like to do this, but not all the other crap'. But the real point here is, that the statements of lacking time is a way to frustrate me. i get very upset or even aggressive. and sometimes even in the early morning the day seems to be over and not worth getting started because 'it's too late already'. 

i better get up and running.  now. on this very Saturday.  before this day IS over........

snow and snow again. white and grey are the ultimate colors of the season. actually white and grey is a very beautiful combination, classic, elegant and calming. add a splash of black or blue and it still creates the feeling of harmony - almost every color could be added to this combination, i suppose. it's a wonderful backdrop. white and grey. but after so many months, I'm desperately waiting for a change. 

last night i had a very powerful dream and i wish i could grasp the loose ends  and put this puzzle together again. all i remember is that some city, organization or government had built a sort of elevator that would transport people into the earth. a thousand feet  down, or more. there were two shafts, the rides were fast. for whatever reason a couple, not related, had to bring down sandwiches. once they arrived at the station there was some anxiety, i don't remember why. however they took the elevator down. got off and the shafts exploded. large flames, smoke. 

the couple panicked. the guy was screaming. the woman seemed to be in shock, she did not move, only her eyes were rolling from left to right in slow motion. somehow the man realized that the explosion was part of a conspiracy. that in fact the elevators were still working, that it was planned by a group to ? He knew he had to get back into the elevator but suddenly many 'guards' appeared, some protecting the entrance area to the elevators, some trying to find him. he had to hide. they caught the woman and put her in a glass cubicle. considered her dead. he started screaming. the strawberry sandwich fell on the floor.  - the images faint more and more.... i cant put it together,  there are just color splashes left.

I'm very nervous this morning. time is my enemy. the clock is running at a faster pace than usual. the cat is missing. again. since yesterday morning. the grey sky weighs heavily. the emptiness grows stronger. the peaceful moments of last night seem ages away. nothing stops the restlessness. the night was short. i woke up around 4 pm, later than usual. i opened the window. the cool air cooled off my body but not my running thoughts. the morning hours did not embrace me. the night did not refresh my system. the experience of last evening is still lingering. i hope. at least i tell myself, there is  the peaceful quietness in the little temple. the drums. the strong winds outside. the snowfall. the meditation. the advice. the dinner. the laughter. the listening. the search. 

and there is this morning, this reality. disconnected. a life scattered. a life out of control. the clock is running at a faster pace. this is no illusion. this is a fact. 

the sunshine is deluding. the forecast predicts heavy snow and ice later in the day. the temperatures have dropped again. i know it is completely irrational to hope for spring in the middle of winter, in the middle of February. but the days get longer and the longing too.

My cat returned this morning. she has been out for over 24 hours. i hate it if she stays out during a cold and freezing winter night and one can hear the coyotes sing their deadly songs in the fields. My cat is so small. she came in, ate her food and now she is again jumping up and down the windowsill, staring outside, then looking back at me, clearly asking to be let out again. I'm hesitant. it will snow, it will get even colder. what in the world is she doing out there?  who is she looking for? i just opened the door and let her go. she is slowly walking over the neighbors lawn, jumping over the little creek and off she goes. May her day be cheerful. 

the house is empty without her presence. she has a very calming and soothing effect on me. just watching her eases my mind, when she is curled up like a little fur ball, sound asleep.

its' now the third night where i managed to go back into a deep sleep after waking up at my usual time around 2 pm. i was awake for a while. it seemed. however, it felt  wonderful to wake up in the morning after a solid four to five hours of uninterrupted sleep. deep sleep.

i will go running. it's the every-other-day run today. i will sand the side table and i will paint it.

for whatever it is worth.

An hour makes a difference.

the morning sun still paints with yellow and orange. 

in the golden sunlight the world appears so precious. but it lasts only for minutes before the rising sun disappears behind clouds. already. its the second night in a row i sleep well. i wake up once or twice, but only for minutes and i can go back to a deep sleep right away. i feel more rested and i'd rather face my critical worrisome thoughts in the early morning hours than during the night. there is no explanation for the change. but it's hopeful. i decided to work against my routine and try to get up an hour earlier every day. there is  no rhyme or reason for this decision. maybe i just prefer the early hours, the silence, the awakening of the day. today is Tuesday. just for the record.

good morning America. it's Presidents Day. 

the celebration of power. the celebration of change. 

'yes we can' is the motto in the White House. Yes. And the Dow is  spiraling down. it looks like there is an evil need for failure. at the end of the day, the trading of stocks is irrational. bad news can be addictive. it channels energy. the power to prove someone wrong is tremendous. 

it's President Day. normally a huge sales day. a shopping event. like most holidays here. go shop. spend. therefore you are - tomorrow the analysis of today. a loud scream, presenting the news of falling sales figures.

Happy Presidents Day.

the white see-through curtains are still in front of the windows.

the sun light is very bright today.  the room looks more seclusive with the curtains closed. on the wood table is a small glass vase with six white pink tulips. they look very promising, fresh and young. yesterday was Valentine's Day. today is Sunday, tomorrow is President's day. I need to get out of the house. despite it all.  A long drive to the mountains might be good. a vision of  rolling hills in various shapes and angles. small stores. skiers. villages. it's all the same. i will pick up running again. tomorrow. not today. i feel  too pressured by the tick tock of the clock on the wall. if i really want to go on an excursion then time is of the essence. and time is running like sand through my fingers. time is all i have and i give it away in abundance. every day. 

The days go by and they all seem one and the same. The weekends have lost there meaning. The day-off mentality has become pointless. there is no gateway. there is no escape. the restlessness stays, so does the anxiety. nights are not structured by dreams anymore, nor are days structured by work. no places to go. the sky seems endless and i wish i had one of these balloons in my yard. taking off. a new perspective. but i don't. I'm in the same room with the same view,  every day. Repetition is a slow death for me. last night i dreamt i was traveling and in one of the places i  visited, i had four hotel rooms at the same time. people asked me for directions. The movie last night 'after sunset' replayed in my dreams. open endings everywhere. loose ends. no ends. no answers. how can i walk toward any sort of goal if i don't know what the goal looks like or even what it could be. there is this vast ocean of possibilities and without a boat, one drowns. i have no compass and my sense of direction is distorted. my morning coffee is the first milestone of the day, my glass of wine the last. between lies a ball of yarn made of hope and despair. 

 

last night the wind kept me awake. out of the silence of the night the wind formed waves of strong blasts, loud, rattling, intense. like waves, the wind slammed against the house. it shook, it squeaked, it vibrated. and then the perfect silence embraced the house again. for a minute. or two. before the next wave of emerging sounds rattled the house. the alternation between silence and deafening wind gusts shock my soul. the night seemed to be broken in pieces like scattered glass. dreamland's doors were closed. I fished for pieces of sleep. the morning hours were hidden, the rising sunlight ever so slow. the wind is steady now.

Rain . 

Heavy rain fell last night turning the fields and lawns into water ponds. the soil is soaked. the melting snow and ice are contributing to the muddy mess. the moist air seeps through every door and window crack. the radiators take on the battle. Tonight friends will come over, for dinner. at seven. the house will be filled with presence. with laughs. for a few hours the worries will be lifted or will be covered up. time will be put on hold and the smooth red wine will dance with us. 10 hours to go. ten very long hours while the wind and rain fight with each other. I will leave the house at some point to buy dinner and i might cut the long 10 hours short by creating a rainy-day table decoration. a distraction i love and enjoy. it soothes my soul. it lifts my spirit. and it's candy for the eyes. tonight. 

What a beautiful day. 

I have no explanation for why this morning feels brighter and sunnier and 'lighter' than others. But as a matter of fact, it does feel different, like spring is around the corner. Did I just sleep better? Did a forgotten dream from last night change the unconscious perception of a new morning? what seemed cold and troublesome turned into a hopeful presence. why would i want to know the reason anyway. maybe to find a formula, which I can apply to every morning? this reminds me of my endless search for the book of life. that one book that holds all the answers. maybe life seems less risky with a how-to book, or less scary. the book and its wonderful  formulas stand for a sort of insurance or a large parachute that protects life from all trouble. seemingly. at least. in my fantasy. 

sleep travel

I was mistaken the other day. The full moon was actually last night. it was a very unspectacular moon, yellowish. with a bit of an orange shine around it. through my window. i could stare right at it.

but i turned around, tucked my pillow under my head and closed my eyes again. as a matter of fact I was almost annoyed that the sky did not cover this orange round ball with dark and thick clouds. during the ice storm, while every branch and tree and grass and car and pole was covered with a thick layer of ice, the full moon painted the world in a sparkling blue light, radiant and vibrant. but that was months ago. this  morning however the sky is grey. there is a fine yellow shine at the horizon looking east. the last glow from the rising morning. i dreamed that i was on the Galapagos island and the most fascinating and ancient creatures walked by. i couldn't believe that this little strip of rocks at the end of an enormous island could display all animals. they were marching, like they would follow an order. and after a while the strip of rocks was empty again. an illusion.

This is Tuesday. for whatever it is worth. 

morning hours

the morning sky is an intense blue.

looking into these vivid shades during the early morning hours is hopeful. The power of the blue sky erases all worries while the mind is still waking up. It's a Monday. a week ahead. time ahead. a day ahead. what structures the day? is it framed by the must do's, the work hours, the schedules, the amount of calls, meetings, emails, thoughts, laughs (if). what is it that defines the next 10 hours before the sun goes down. the sun rise and sun set are pointless. almost. there is the clock we all share and obey. millions of alarm clocks went off already this morning, millions more are ringing right now. my house is still and asleep. some window curtains are open. some are closed. this little house is like a floating boat in the open blue sky not bound to structure and time. it scares me to be cut off from this stream of alarm clocks. my morning coffee is freshly brewed and the heat in the house is comforting. how do you reach out into an open field? how do you talk with the vast blue sky?

there is the pen and the paper and the list making. there is the inner wish list that is buried, there is the nagging present of my dislikes, a one way street that dead ends. There is the blue sky that sinks into my eyes and expands the narrow path of my sticky mental traps. i want to pick up the phone, make a reservation, pack a bag, leave and find myself  flying in the midst of this endless blue morning sky, escaping from the muddy grounds and the particular stillness of my house. And there is the sun. 

Day 5

the cold spell is over. the temperatures are finally in the thirties and the mounds of snow and ice are beginning to melt. it's ugly outside. the dirty snow, the wet streets, the grey sky. there are times of the year when nature is not an inviting beauty. the night ritual does not change. come two o'clock, I wake up. and my thoughts are running a marathon, but they don't move forward. after an hour i fall asleep again. there is this marvelous first class flight with Air France through  the mountains, covered with snow. We arrive in Chicago and we are sitting in an exclusive lounge area, while the pilot is trying to sell a specific type of aircraft to an Arabic investor. i have to change places. it is inappropriate to sit next to men. Later the potential buyer comes to my seat and asked me a couple of questions. my hair is wet. the man says he could find me in new york, if he wanted too but he never travels to new york. I reply that with the purchase of the aircraft it shouldn't be a problem to fly to new york, however I doubt that he could ever find me. Later, I return to the lounge because i  forgot my handbag on a shelve. it is still there. dream mountains. 

the clock in the dining room is ticking. the silence underlines the tick tock. my chest hurts from all the coughing. i need to bake an apple cake. now.

Saturday.

last nights shadows were blue and harsh. the night was robbed of its darkness and the light shining into the room painted strange figures on the wall. I tried to lie still. not to move. to let my body sink back into dreamland, but the presence of the moonlight made me restless. i can feel the fingerprints of the nightly hours on my skin and  my eyes. They ache from all the various imprints and the thoughts are caught in a blue basket. the passage into the white morning light was relaxing and sleep finally hit me hard. These are nights not made for rest.

Friday, cold winter day, on the run

Day three

The early morning hours are gone.

The sun is already high up in the sky.

The days get longer. The winter is holding on and the brighter light is a false sensation. It lures me outside to embrace the day yet, the temperatures are still cruel and the sunlight cold.

The car will be cold too - for a while. But it's a long drive to the city, and for a couple of hours silent roads will be our company before the city catches up. the traffic intensifies and the contemplative mood will be set aside for the rest of the day and the loud and noisy streets of Manhattan will enter and excite my mind. Round trips are long and i wonder how my sore voice will hold up. the coffee is cold and the day is lying ahead. But, I can see the night already, the emerging moon. 

Rounds trips are days in parenthesis. 

day two

It is sunny today,

There is sense of peace in the air.

The only sound emerging is the sound of the wind.

High noon. The room is filled with bright light.

The cat is sound asleep, curled up into a round little fur ball, she senses that the outside is bitterly cold, despite the intrusive, inviting light. From my window, up in the bedroom, i can see the reflection of the branches on the lower roof of the house, moving up and down like waves on the ocean beach. The house is warm, the silence is loud. My thoughts are unsteady. i worry about the future, the next job and yet, at the same time in this peaceful setting no harm seems to be possible. anywhere. ever.  I would love to go for a long walk, like yesterday, but i caught a very bad cold and I'm bound to bed, which is actually not too bad. i can surrender for a day or two. I'm tired most of the time.

the first day

it's snowing. again.

the coffee is cold by now and i don't like tea.

the wind is picking up and the landscape is tinted various tones of grey.

there is not the slightest sign of sun shine in the sky.

day 1.