Stuck with a Pinched Nerve…

so I have a little time for the blog.  Let me introduce you to my pages:

RELIEF-REFRESHING is the most enjoyable.

 I like SECRETS,  but it needs updating. It’s a list of amazing things I did not know.

JOURNAL YOURSELF INTO  BEING  is written in hopes of introducing folks to the creative potential of keeping a journal over time, to include doodles, poetry,  quotes from books,  [noting author and page numbers makes later use  much easier] , dreams, images, thoughts and whatever else emerges from your pen.  The last half (approximately) of my book on incest is from my own journal. And sometimes I’m depressed, wih a sense of humor.

DREAM ON  was started not only to share some concepts from dream experts, but to include some dreams. Unfortunately, bloggers who follow me don’t seem to be into sharing their dreams. I can still hope and one day soon will post something on puns in dreams.

 SERENDIPITY AND SYNCHRONICITY is a place to share spooky coincidences. I’m trying so hard to record them, but they sift through my fingers usually.  I’d welcome others sharing.

 LIFE ISSUES is one of my favorites, because I have given myself permission to include any life issue here.

OUR SHADOW SELVES deals with trying to figure out what our dark side (usually Jungian) is all about. Still haven’t resolved that touchy question.  Join in the discussion under Comments!

About Nan Mykel

I used to think I would be a child prodigy, but then I got old. Formerly I had fantasies of rubbing elbows with cultural and academic leaders but that did not come to pass because I did not become a cultural or academic leader or any other kind of leader, for that matter. I am not even an "Alpha Dog," a term learned from a friend who had to become "Alpha Dog" in order to influence her own pet. (When gazes lock, she never looks away.) For years I expected to become a published author, but in passing I could not avoid the fact that I had little to contribute to the world's bulging dumpsters. I'm embarrassed to report that I also considered my primary process artistic productions powerful, rather than mildly neurotic. Which is not to say that I disrespect myself, only that I am beginning to doubt my potential for making a mark on the world. If I focus on strict self discipline I may be able to keep my garbage removed on a weekly basis, to keep the kitty box changed, the clothes cleaned, the dog watered, fed and walked, but that just catches me up to the starting mark again. When writing I physically grapple with words, wrestling them from their indifference into attempted chunks of awareness. I sit heavily on my chair; I breathe in artificially cooled air; my ear drums note the tap tap of the keyboard and the steady uninterrupted sound of the air conditioner, What is that sound? The roar of the ocean from 30 yards away...Inside, my thoughts are are balls in an electronic game machine, bouncing hither and yon from lever to lever. I am a little grim and intent until I recall a dream related by a black man in the prison where I once worked. He said that when he was a small boy, back home, he dreamed he was standing on his front porch pissing, and that he suddenly found himself pissing stars...
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