"...the constructive use of solitude. It requires that we be able to retire from a world that is 'too much with us,' that we be able to be quiet, that we let the solitude work for us and in us. It is characteristic of our time that many people are afraid of solitude: to be alone is a sign one is a social failure, for no one would be alone if he or she could help it.
"It often occurs to me that people living in our modern, hectic civilization, amid the constant din of radio and TV, subjecting themselves to every kind of stimulation whether of the passive sort of TV or the more active sort of conversation, work, and activity, that people with such constant preoccupations find it exceedingly diffcult to let insights from unconscious depths break through. Of course, when an invididual is afraid of the irrational-- that is, of the unconscious dimensions of experience-- he tries to keep busiest, tries to keep the most 'noise' going on about him.
"The avoidance of the anxiety of solitude by constant agitated diversion is what Kierkegaard, in a nice simile, likened to the settlers in the early days of America who used to beat on pots and pans at night to make enough din to keep the wolves away. Obviously if we are to experience insights from our unconscious, we need to be able to to give ourselves to solitude."
--Rollo May, THE COURAGE TO CREATE (The other book I have been reading. ;o)
Well, I have much to report-- and much of it is not good and troubling and bound to trip up all of my new nicely laid plans-- but it is raining here and I have been so satisfyingly ensconced in a domestic bliss of a romance novel (KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOUR by Jude Deveraux, which I have read many times before), Zankou Chicken (that I went out in the rain for), movies, and reruns of the Rose Parade.
I think that we need more parades (and carnival!). There is something both primitive and festive about them. They make me feel the deadly earnestness of life, back when humans were vulnerable and huge bizarre creatures threatened us. Our earliest parades were of our nightmares and fears and the conquering of them.
I will wear the skin of bear and the tusk of tiger and I will dance around the firelight and the flickering giant shadows, and I will create beauty from mortal fear.
And then of course, the other parade, the (serious yet) joyous cavorting fertility rites of life and greenery and celebration. Our dreams spun from flowers and made enormous.
I loved the pipers, the marching bands, and the equestriennes, especially, but I also love all the floats and how inventive they are. I am putting on my list of things to do in the next forty years of my life "be in a parade, preferably wearing a tiara and long white gloves." Even in pouring rain I would smile and wave the whole five miles!
There are some pretty rotten things going on right now, and a few strange events. But I think I did a little arabesque this weekend. Because I realized that there will constantly be something miserable happening in my life, and I have spent most of my life fighting that.
This weekend, when I got the phone call about the family situation ( I will post later) I determined that I was not going to run from it, but I was not going to let it overcome me. It must be handled properly and I will need stamina, and worrying or getting overwhelmed would not help. And this weekend, there isn't anything I can do about it anyhow.
I snuggled on the couch with cocoa and my book while the old man watched football and we both played with the dog whenever she brought us a toy. When it was time to make calls I made them, but when I was done I went back to my wickedly delicious book and I have enjoyed myself thoroughly.
I will be back tomorrow!
UNTIL NEXT TIME, TOODLE ON!!!
