happiness is finding the place where being yourself is exactly what's needed

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

but i never played never have i ever

every day when i check my email and facebook, i have the feeling like there's somewhere else i'm supposed to go (on the internet) or something else i'm supposed to say (on facebook). i'm not sure what the deep recesses of my brain could think i'm forgetting (maybe blogger?), but it always seems like i'm leaving something out. something important.

i seldom have this sensation anymore outside the internet, but i used to get it all the time, especially in my younger years of not legally being an adult, lacking transportation, etc. i always felt like there was somewhere else i needed to be. something i really really should be doing.

something that would make sense to me, make me feel useful, fullfilled, or whatever. the feeling that led up to years of me believing "happiness is finding the place where being yourself is exactly what's needed."

i can understand the human longing to live a life with purpose. that this longing can come along with natural feelings of "am i in the best place for me? am i doing the best things i could be?"

but why has all this focus, in my case, become directed at the internet?

perhaps it's just that our computers are like tiny little windows into a huge and vast world that reaches far beyond our own travels and understandings. it's like looking out car windows as a kid. i don't know what's out there, but i want to be a part of it all.

or maybe it's that i'm so used to moving around and using laptops as the main way i talk to the people i care about, that this little window has become more real to me that what's actually around me. perhaps i'm one of the hive, afterall. it's true that i can find my socks without my smart phone (something i doubt future generations will develop the skills to do), but i seem to still be lacking in a sense of presence in my environment.

i dreamed last night i had contracted one of the first cases of some apocalyptic flu (like in the BBC show Survivors). this combined with my usual feeling of "what is it i'm not doing right now?" and made me think of the movie trope where when people are dying, they say things like "but i never . . . (saw paris/told marsha i loved her/ate pork'n'beans/etc)".

so, that's what i'm asking myself today. were i to suddenly realize i had only days/hours/moments left to live, what's the thing i haven't done in this life that would make me surprised to see it end? what's the thing that i wouldn't feel i'd lived a complete life without having done? what's my "but i never . . ."?

Monday, July 1, 2013

why do so many dreams involve dead cats?

the dream i had this morning:

i was walking along a path. i found what was left of my cat, about half a cat, still alive. i suspected it was "the thing" that did it. (there was apparently some creature that had been going around killing other animals.) my other cat was still walking around outside and i figured i should bring her inside to keep the same thing from happening to her, though i felt guilty about restricting her freedoms. for the moment, i avoided that decision and stayed outside with my dying cat.
she seemed to be in a state of shock. she didn't seem to be in pain or to even realize she was dying. she purred when i pet her. she licked the open air over places where parts of her body would've been had she been whole.
i remembered someone telling me once that when they found their cat dying, they held the cat and nuzzled its forehead with their nose, which kept it calm until it could pass, so that's what i did for a while.
as i held her, she started to appear whole to me, and i wondered if maybe she was going to be okay after all or if i was losing my mind.
after a time, i laid her back down in the grass, and lied down next to her. she continued to appear whole to both me and herself, and she rolled away playfully and batted at my arm just like a living cat would do.
still, i knew she was dying, and i feared she would realize this and start experiencing fear and pain. i picked her up again and started telling her it might be time to move on to the next life. i prayed for a peaceful transition for her.
she turned into a human in my arms and turned suddenly away from me, looking at an invisible presence to my left and calling, "Chris! Chris is that you?"
i realized this "Chris" was probably someone she'd known who'd died, come to guide her spirit on its path. she flailed her arms and legs but didn't seem able to rise from my hold.
"yes, Chris," i said, "please help her. i don't know what else to do." i turned my head respectfully away.

then i woke up. first thought upon waking up this morning: i'm glad my cats are already dead, so nothing like that can ever happen.