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Livestream Consciousness

Bryant Park, NYC

“Stream of consciousness: a person’s thoughts and conscious reactions to events, perceived as a continuous flow.” That’s the kind of writing I try to do in those Morning Pages I’m always blathering on about–writing down whatever floats through my mind, without judgment or structure, without an attempt at organizing my thoughts. That’s the goal, anyway, though not always met.

But what I do notice in my brain is truly a stream of images floating through whenever I’m somewhat at rest or not even, e.g. during piano lessons (I really am listening!), while writing or driving, with or without others, or even reading.

Our childhood home on Washington Blvd.

Is this the norm, I wonder?

It’s an ongoing background slide show of familiar places and sights from my past, most often back to childhood. The A&P where we bought groceries appears often, as well as Forest Park and all the places we girls wandered on our own there, the Art Museum, one or the other of the houses where we grew up, the tiny bedroom my three sisters and I shared on Flora Street, the front porch of our house on Washington. But the many places I’ve been in New York with my boys stop by and land, too, plus various spots in the Bay Area from my many visits to siblings there. Taiwan, too, but Italy, not so much. Why?

They are not triggered by anything like Proust’s madeleine or music or the fragrance of a cedar tree or a marigold, as people suggest, but are just always there in the background of my mind, with nothing in particular happening in them.

Pt. Reyes, California

Some people have synesthesia–a phenomenon of “tasting” colors or “feeling” sounds, a sort of cross-over of senses. In Oliver Sacks‘ book, The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, you’ll find tales of people with all sorts of neurological oddities, some of them short-lived, e.g., a man whose sense of smell suddenly became so heightened that he could do nothing else but smell things, rather like a dog. It went away after a few weeks.

That book and my own inner image stream make me think, isn’t the brain fascinating? Just think of the potential! And isn’t being human just so interesting, complex and mysterious? Oh, it’s hard, too, at times, but wow, very very interesting. Just think of all the times someone you know very well takes you completely by surprise with a word or something they do. Or you, yourself, come up with a little stunner that surprises even you. We really are mysterious creatures and worthy of study. What about you? Any idiosyncrasies you’d like to share?

“Every act of perception, is to some degree an act of creation, and every act of memory is to some degree an act of imagination.” ― Oliver Sacks, Musicophilia

“Above all, I have been a sentient being, a thinking animal, on this beautiful planet, and that in itself has been an enormous privilege and adventure.” ― Oliver Sacks, Gratitude

“…when the brain is released from the constraints of reality, it can generate any sound, image, or smell in its repertoire, sometimes in complex and “impossible” combinations.” ― Oliver Sacks

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. If you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Daylight Savings

What, really, does it mean to save daylight?

We change our clocks in a misguided effort to somehow change the nature of days. In reality, of course, a day is a day, twenty-four hours, however you slice it. The silliness and hubris that resulted in having us change our clocks every six months or so does not change the fact that a day is a day. It does irritate and bother many people and dogs, however.

I propose a different approach.

Since saving daylight, in a physical sense, is not actually possible, I suggest we try to save daylight within ourselves. We could strive to save up all those golden hours, the ones that are lit up by the sun as well as those that lit us up on the inside, the ones that made us feel happy, loved, and contented. We all have those. We don’t need calendars or clocks or politicians to tell us when those hours are happening, or why. We don’t need to confine them to certain months of the year. And maybe we could store up those bright happy hours for the darker times, when we struggle to find reasons to smile.

Let’s put all of those hours in our Daylight Savings Accounts, tucked away and banked for the lean times, when we need them.

It might even help to write them down, keep a running list, and hang it up on the wall. Then on those gloomy, grim days, when we feel beset with the world’s problems or our own, we could take a peek at our Daylight Savings Accounts and think, Oh yes, there’s that, still bright and lovely, still gaining interest! And what about that lovely time? I remember that. That still makes me smile. And we’d see how much, really, we have banked, stored carefully away, untouchable by whatever might be getting us down right now.

That’s what I call Daylight Savings! That is something I can get on board with. What about you?

“I object to being told that I am saving daylight when my reason tells me that I am doing nothing of the kind . . . At the back of the Daylight Saving scheme, I detect the bony, blue-fingered hand of Puritanism, eager to push people into bed earlier, and get them up earlier, to make them healthy, wealthy, and wise in spite of themselves.”― Robertson Davies, The Papers of Samuel Marchbanks

“He asked me once what I wanted when I died, what I wanted out of life, and I told him I just wanted more happy memories than sad ones.”― R. YS Perez, I Hope You Fall in Love

“Happy memories are the best shields against unhappy days.” ― T.M Cicinski, A Patchwork Of Moonlight And Shadow

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. If you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Healing

Home from a healing visit with my sister
my two dogs sprawled across my lap.
I slept in my mother’s old room
tender memories lifting umbrella’d
into the arching vaulted spaces of my brain
my sister and I again our soft familiar selves
oh yes there you are and how I’ve missed you!
no longer separated by whatever sharp edges
had torn and scraped at us now comfortably
companionable once again in that old way
we both had missed more even than we realized.

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Birthday Calendar

Snow on the ground

sun in the air

birds crowd the feeder

in noisy chaos.

This is the birthday of

a former lover now gone

from my life, tomorrow

of an old friend now gone

from this world.

Two names on a calendar

of birthdays that elicit

only memories now.

People wander in and away

I continue to feed the birds

the sun continues to shine

or hide, snow falls then stops

years roll along piling up in drifts

behind me leaving me

wondering whose name

will mean what on that calendar

this time next year?