Christopher Reeve’s take on Superman is so important and what we need more of in the world. We don’t need strongarm vigilantes, we need friends to give us comfort and help. “America was founded on the virtues of a helping hand.” I know a lot of people who would disagree that this is the founding virtue of the US, including one of our two political parties. And it could be argued that even if Americans professes that, history shows the country rarely living up to that virtue. But it’s something Superman would say and honestly believe. And it’s something he would practice.
I don’t know anyone as physically powerful as Superman, but imagine being that kind of person, who believes giving a helping hand is such an important virtue. Imagine seeing people asking for help and instead of saying “But do you *really* need help? Or do you just feel entitled to get help? Or is this just a scam?” or “But is helping you the right thing to do? Shouldn’t you be helping yourself?” or “Okay, I’ll give you some help, but I’ll dictate how I help you”, instead of any of that, you simply ask “What can I do to help you?” and then do that to the best of your abilities. Instead of being a stern parental figure or an “ally”, instead of being judgmental or pedantic, imagine just being a friend.
“That’s what people really need most…you need a friend.” I miss you, Christopher Reeve.
I’ve read that one way to trigger lucid dreaming is to look at something printed because writing is always unreadable in dreams, unless you take control of the dream. Look at the writing, see it as blurry, fuzzy letters or unknown symbols, realize it’s a dream, take control and make the writing focused. Now, I’ve never had success with lucid dreaming. As soon as I realize I’m in a dream, I wake up. (This sometimes makes me worried that at times when I feel like I’m awake, moving through the waking world, something strange will happen, I’ll realize I’m in a dream, and I’ll be instantly pulled out of this reality–or what feels like reality.) But I distinctly remember a dream I had last night where I was reading from a number of books. The text was very distinct and I could even remember bits of it when I woke up from the dream in the middle of the night. Of course it’s all gone now from my head now, except for some vague impressions and images that remain. I think I was reading RPG books, looking up different rules. I think I was also writing notes about the rules in a notebook.
I definitely wasn’t lucid dreaming. I didn’t know I was in a dream until I woke from it. I didn’t think to take control of the dream and alter it to suit my whims. Which makes me wonder if the lore about illegible text in dreams is true. And it makes me wonder exactly how I can tell that typing this blog post isn’t a dream. Does it even matter? Dream or not-dream, at least I’m not being chased by monsters. Not right now, anyway.
For quite a while this blog has mostly been poems. Poetry has been the easiest, most natural way I’ve been expressing myself. Until a few months ago when I stopped writing it altogether. Not forever and ever, just…I haven’t felt the necessity to write poems. I just realized there are two reasons why.
One, all writing is practice, and I was practicing poetry BUT I didn’t feel like I was getting BETTER (whatever “better” is) at it. I’ve been doing the same thing over and over without trying anything new or different, without pushing myself, without moving from the spot I was in.
Related to that, I just haven’t had anything to say with poetry. Nothing new, at least. Just saying the same things over and over. That’s as boring for me as it is for anyone reading what I write. Probably even more boring for me.
I’ll probably have something new to say and something new to try with poetry at some point. Until then, I’ll let my mind wander, take stuff in, let it all dance around in my head, and wait for something to say.
For someone who talks as much as I do, and I’ve been told all my life that I talk a lot*, it’s funny how often I feel like I don’t have anything to write about. I mean, I have a lot of (vague, not-so-vague, super-incredibly-vague) story ideas, but one of the many things that stalls me from writing them start-to-finish is the nagging question “What exactly am I writing about? Do I really have anything to say?” When I write non-fiction pieces for this blog, I try to keep the post on-topic and not just ramble, and it isn’t often I feel like I have something important and specific to say that warrants a blog post.
But in real life, in person, I mostly just ramble and babble. Right now, I’m wondering why I’m okay with doing that in person (not that I can really help it, it’s just the way my brain and mouth work) but not in writing (where I can edit, rewrite, organize, and trim off all the things I don’t think are relevant–but do I absolutely HAVE TO do that?).
I’ve been wanting to publish on this blog more. It’s been nagging at me for at least the past six months. But then days and weeks go by where I don’t feel like I have anything worthwhile and organized to write about. Soooooo…maybe I’ll just babble more? I think it’s okay to do that. Considering it’s my blog and no one is being forced to read it. (If you’re currently being forced at gunpoint to read this blog, I’m sorry. Please read this next sentence aloud: “Dear captor forcing me to read this at gunpoint, you should put the gun down, walk away, and reconsider your life choices. Thank you.”) I’ve looked at my blog stats and I don’t get a lot of hits. This isn’t a bad thing, this is liberating.
Okay so yeah, more blogging about whatever, as well as the usual poetry and rare short story. For reals. (more…)
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the online environments I and many, many other people participate in. As I see more friends leaving or taking long breaks from Facebook and Twitter because they don’t consider their experiences there healthy, I wonder “What is the point of these sites? Is it a good point?” (more…)