Am back. Was given the opportunity to take a brief vacation. Traveled back to the city where I lived for almost forty years. It’s been two years since I moved from there. And yes, a great deal has changed, yet much remains the same. The best part? There were many of them. One of the first that comes to mind is the fact that I did the driving. Whew! It has been way too long.
I stayed with a friend and the first morning I took her to work and had the car for several hours. It was confusing. The trip came about spontaneously and very quickly. As I drove through my old home town, I felt as though I were caught in some sort of warp. I had to keep reminding myself that I was here, not there, and then try to figure out how to get from point A to point B. The two cities are very similar with many of the same or similar street names, so I ended up doing a lot of backtracking.
I did get to see most of the people I wanted to see and one particular individual that I had not seen face to face for twelve years. Was a bit nervous about that, but the moment we connected it was like the twelve years vanished and we talked none stop for several hours while revisiting a few old haunts from former days. That was great and deeply soul satisfying.
Also had a brief visit with my youngest daughter and granddaughters. That was more normal feeling than most of the rest of the visit. Familiar and comfortable all at the same time. Lots of talk, hugs, laughter, and even giggling.
I was able to get together with the writing group that got started in the classes I used to teach. They are going strong and had just completed a rather daunting project and allowed me to celebrate with them. It was really good to see how vital that circle has become and how much it has continued to flourish. Felt a bit like watching a ping-pong tournament. At least three conversations going on at all times amidst teasing and laughter. I was decidedly exhausted after that one.
While at my friend’s home, I had the opportunity to explore a new (for me) type of Mandala. It is done in what is called Zentangle style, which is completely free form and wholly impulsive. It is made up of repetitive patterns chosen by the artist as the circle is filled. If you are interested in knowing more, visit http://www.zentangle.com/about-what-is–1.php
I am only a beginner and still in the process of exploring and discovering, so my explanation would not be a very complete one.
However, I do have some images to share. I did the first Zendala yesterday, and although it doesn’t completely conform to Zentangle style (the intersecting circles are not free form, they were traced from the circumference of a water glass), the style itself promotes crossing boundaries and creating whatever pleases ones fancy.

Intersection
Here are two more, squeezed onto the same page. I really do need a smaller sketch book. Because the patterns are made up as they are created, a full sized page can be a bit daunting with all of that white empty space.

Twofers
Needless to say, I brought a great deal more home than I had taken. Some delightful memories, lots of echoing laughter, new creative ideas, a brand new Pendleton jacket, and a very satisfied soul. Not bad for an impromptu outing.
The day after my return, I also got some new pieces of furniture, including a new (to me) computer desk. Which means I will be about the business of digging this current one out from under the mountain of paper and paraphernalia it is buried under. At the very least, the trip did energize me and I may even get the task done somewhere in the coming months. I think you may already have guessed what I’ll be doing during my break times.
Posted by 1sojournal
Posted by 1sojournal
Posted by 1sojournal 
Perspective, Rebellion, and New Possibilities
May 5, 2009I am a rebel. Have been for longer than I can remember. I am, for the most part, not radical in my rebellion, just fairly consistent. I do not like rules unless they make sense to me. And I question all authority until it proves itself to be worthy of acceptance, thus leadership. I have been known to break with tradition because it smacks of rules set up for inexplicable reasons. Just because a thing has always been that way, doesn’t mean it is good, or even worth doing.
It isn’t easy being a rebel. There are lots of moments when I question my own rebelliousness. It can be so tiring, the constant alertness, struggle and conflict wear thin with time. But, even when I decide that I no longer need this sort of issue in my existence, something comes along to smack me in the face and demand a rebel’s outlook. Just what is that outlook?
It is awareness, an openness that can be hard to maintain. It’s a different perspective from the norm. A constant struggle to stay alert to the fact that each moment is new and will not come again. And a willingness to act in that moment, no matter the feelings that attend it. It is a view that can be both exhilarating and exhausting. That’s the reason I said that I am not radical but am fairly consistent.
I get tired and recede back into my neat little comfort zone. But then, of course, the world comes crashing into my ordered existence, messing with this or that, and here we go again. No one will ever know how many times I have attempted to quash this bit of my personality. Yet, it continues to rise to the surface and make itself known, demanding acknowledgement, or out right action. Given enough discomfort, I will eventually respond to that call.
Which means of course, that I have not always been comfortable with this particular role. Perhaps, I never will be. That’s an exhausting thought all in itself. Can a rebel not rebel? Can a leopard change its spots? Did you know that a black panther is a leopard and that it does have spots? It’s just that the spots are so closely aligned with the color of its fur that they aren’t noticeable until seen very closely. And who, in their right mind, would willingly get that close?
I have a black panther in my Personal Mythology (see Personal Mythology at http://intuitivepaths.wordpress.com/ . His name is Jacob, which means: the supplanter. That one who supplants, replaces the normal order of things. Yup, a rebel. He is closely associated with my emotional landscape and has been for many many years. He is also the only panther I will ever get that close to, if given the choice. I have learned a great deal about rebellion from him, and he has learned a great deal about how to handle a rebel who rebels at rebellion.
So, why rebel at what would seem to be a given? There is this little thing called a primary need for acceptance and belonging. Rebels, like prophets and poets, or any other dreamers, are not easily absorbed into whatever community they find themselves in. They are loners, but that doesn’t mean they don’t partake in that primary need to be a part of a group. Can you say frustration?
Think about that for a moment. Here is an individual who knows beyond any shadow of a doubt that he/she is different and will always be so. Yet, right alongside of that core reality is the definite inextinguishable yearning to be accepted and to find approval. Fine line balancing act and on occasion one of those whirling plates takes off in its own direction, crashing into whatever stands in its unwitting path. Of course, it becomes pieces and some of them can’t be glued back together again. Whew!
Like I said, it’s not easy being a rebel. Just trying to hang on to all those whirling pieces is time and energy consuming. What about all the rest of life? How does one manage all those other things while making sure all the plates stay up in the air and moving when gravity alone will pull them out of sync and down toward that hard breaking ground?
And there is the underlying point. We are all individuals. That means, we all have some pieces that are different from what others maintain. We all have a set of whirling plates that need to be kept moving and up in the air. We all worry about maintaining that balance and none of us want to end in a crashing and breaking into pieces that can’t be put back together again.
Which means that although I am a rebel and my plates might be a slightly different hue, we are essentially in the same boat. You might not be a rebel, but I’m willing to bet there are moments when you are aware that you are quite different from your fellows. What do you do in those moments? How do you handle them?
Do you kick and scream like I have done? Or, do you accept that difference and use your energies more wisely? Like keeping those different plates up in the air and whirling while you tap dance around all of life’s obstacles? Some of which, by the way, can’t be avoided. Ever.
So, what if anything does all of this have to do with journal writing, which is the essential thrust of this blog. This morning I had a waking dream. One in which I knew I was awake but the scenes from my mind, essentially in dream form, continued to play out clearly on the screen of my thoughts.
Seeing as my journal is the first thing I engage in each morning, I wrote out those scenes and was immediately reminded of a comment that was dropped on one of my other sites last night. It was essentially about what those dream images were actually saying. The dream was about a change in perspective that changes not just the mind of the thinker, but his/her whole view of life and the world he/she inhabits.
It was all about something I have been wrestling with for some time. Something I want changed, but couldn’t seem to see my way through. I needed a new perspective. And my dreaming mind provided that with a little nudge from an unknowing commenter. I need that rebel that lives inside of me. That one who supplants, replaces the norm with something different, something new, and maybe even a bit risky.
Would that have happened if I hadn’t sat down in my very normal fashion and wrote in my journal? Maybe, maybe not. I’m just grateful it all fell in place so smoothly and privately. As I said, I am not radical in my rebellion. I have a tendency to go about it quietly and with deliberate thought. This morning’s writing opened a door to just such possibilities.