The Power of Touch

a.k.a. the Power of Cuddling.

On real joy of being stuck lying down for months is the amount of cat cuddle time I’ve gotten in.  Particularly with my oldest cat, she’s 14, sweet and so neurotic she’s on Prozac.

The hours we have spent with her curled up on me during the bad months.  I’m sure she slept on my for 3, 4, possibly more hours on individual days during the worst of the pain.

She prefers to be up high on my chest so that the back of her head, her neck or her back is up close near my chin.  Many times right up against.  Then there was the odd day where she would be across my chest with her legs outstretched on either side of my head.  Okay, sure, there was fear that if there was some loud, startling noise, that she’d slice my face right open as she fled from it, it was still really sweet and cute and cuddly.

And ultimately soothing for me.  Keeping to a happy state of mind has had its rough moments over the past few months.  I also had to keep from getting too bored or frustrated or annoyed with my incapacitated and horizontal state.  I believe my sweetie really helped with that

Touch is powerful.  It is extremely personal.  It reaches straight through to our inner selves.  And it’s not just touch with other people.  It’s connecting with our pets and our environment, from our clothes, to bedding, to anything that our skin comes in contact with.

If I had more energy left I’d go on more, but instead I’ll leave the topic there for the time being and only add:

Go get your cuddle on!

Much Love…and Who We Could Be

For all of you who keep checking in on me, so much love your direction!  I know I’ve been very quiet.  Vewy quiet, though I haven’t been hunting wabbits, I swear!  In fact, yesterday I was accused, oh so sweetly and gently, mind you, of becoming a hermit.

A semi-fair accusation, I must admit. Given that I’ve been trapped on my couch (I’m sitting up as I type this because lying down and typing is an exercise in aggravation) and up to so little, it’s been pretty easy to put off blogging and, realistically, all kinds of human interaction.

Add in the brain mush that resulted from all the pain and drugs, and I really didn’t feel like blogging.  After all, what was I going to say?  That I’m still recovering?  Still suffering pain?  Oooh, I’m off drugs now?  This is not the type of thing I find interesting to share.  So I’ve stayed quiet.  (As for the friend anti-socialness, that’s probably a result of all of this plus the mindless distraction of reading & tv.  Easier to vegemetate than to interact with real, live humans.)

I think my brain is coming back.  Sssshhhhhh.  We don’t want to scare it away.  🙂  So hopefully you’ll be hearing from me more often.  Hope.  It’s an enduring yet elusive thing.  But that’s a topic for a different day.

Instead, the topic of the day is something I tweeted this past weekend.  I asked “To become your dream self, you have to say farewell to who you are now. Is it worth it? Would you do it?”

And I got some great replies.  Ranging from others who are asking themselves this type of question to the other extreme of being content with their current self and feeling no need to seek out their dream self (as that would be too much like living in a movie ((a fabulous comment!)) ).

The origin of the conversation arises, naturally, from my own personal contemplation.  I’ve had a large amount of time for such thinking endeavours (though less than it would seem given the limits to said thinking), some of which I’ve actually used.  The specific that triggered this instance of this train of thought (I’ve had it before) arose from dealing with my food issues.

I lost a dozen pounds during my incarceration (sounds better than illness, doesn’t it?).  Turns out that you can counter a complete lack of exercise and even movement by an even larger lack of food.  Between the pain and drugs I just wasn’t hungry, and it hurt too much to get food, and so I lost weight.  Then I was able to move again and got off the drugs and rediscovered the joys of tasty food.  Okay, so I was treating myself.  🙂  And the weight went back on.  It’s been a see-saw which ultimately led me to contemplate my issues with food.

But that isn’t today’s topic, per se.  Instead I’m focusing on a particular aspect of the situation that generalizes to many other aspects of life.

Obviously I have something of a preferred ideal in mind when it comes to my weight.  I also have a preferred relationship that I would like to have with food.  But my reactions to food are too often emotionally based which, as you may know if you’ve ever tangled with your own emotional demons, are nasty trixy things to combat.

So I have this idea/dream/preferred (yes, all ranges apply) version of myself when it comes to food.  There’s that version of me.  And then there’s me.  There is distance between the two.

There are a select number of dream me’s that are at some distance from my reality.  And the gap between the two would seem to be a simple matter of choice, will and effort.


Behind all three of those things lurks desire.  And deep within desire is our emotional history and all the other desires that conflict with the supposedly easy and obvious one of becoming the person we dream of being.

And the more hidden the desire and emotional history is, the harder it is to overcome with any other more conscience desire that we have in mind.

Ha! again.

Desire that we have in mind.  Desire doesn’t lurk in the mind.  It may be informed by it, but desire is in our blood, our sinews, our bones and in our emotions and thus in our subconscious.

I believe that our cultural focus on the mind limits us in matters of the heart and soul.  But that’s just my opinion.

Anyhow, there is this gap between who I dream of being and who I am, that is ultimately supported by some internal need of mine to continue to be the me I am now.  This need can also be fear based, because changing from the known to the unknown (after all, we only have a concept of what that dream self in that dream life is like) is scary, so is the act of leaving that which brings us some strange level of comfort or satisfaction (if it didn’t,we would have ditched the behaviour ages ago).

And then there is the death of the I-of-now.  In an easy, happy world, the change towards the dream self is gradual and you just look back one day and realize that you are not the person you used to be.  But sometimes the change gets so focussed in that to go from old to new requires a release of I-of-now, a death as it were, and  that, that is very hard indeed.

Thus leading to my original question “To become your dream self, you have to say farewell to who you are now. Is it worth it? Would you do it?”  We are very attached to who we are now, and rightly so!  This is who we are.  Where we find our loves, our joys and our sorrows.  Not easy to simply leave behind.  It’s easy to talk about, just like it’s easy to talk about switching jobs or packing up and moving away.  But the actual doing?  That’s a horse of an entirely different colour.

Great kudos and power to you who are doing just that!  I’m still a-struggling, but that’s part of life, too.

Well, that’s my $10.50 on the matter.  For today.  Apparently if I don’t vent thoughts now and again, I burst out with a profusion of inanity.

Much love to all.

Blessings of the deep and wild to you and yours.

~Saturn, the Abysmal Witch.