In The Artist's Way, Julia Cameron describes (among other things) a writing process called "Morning Pages." It's really sort of a blend between a meditative process and a writing discipline, recommended for accessing and encouraging creativity. It's also therapeutic, useful in helping one get to the core of a matter and/or get through stuff. I've used morning pages for all of the above.
It's been a while since I wrote morning pages on a daily basis, but I think I will return to that practice, and here's why: It helped me before, and those pages are interesting to read now.
I came across a notebook while ago that contains morning pages from the days shortly after Steve's death. I know that somewhere there is another notebook of morning pages for some time prior to and through that event as well (although I'm not quite ready to see those pages yet).
I thought this notebook of morning pages would be much more difficult to read than it has been. In reading it, now, almost two years later, I see how much I was trying to adhere to some kind of routine in order to keep from utterly disintegrating and blowing to the four winds. Even the routine of the morning pages themselves - beginning with the date, a series of affirmations, filling three pages with writing, no matter what - this lent something of a sense of order to a time when my world had gone completely off its axis.
I wrote about the earthquake that frightened me so, and about Muffin the Cat as his health and mentality deteriorated, and about how nice it was to look out the windows in the daytime, but kind of scary at night. There is a great deal in that book of morning pages that, as I read, I can imagine having done, but do not actually remember. Woven into the everydayness of it all are touches of that spiky humor for which I am known among my friends. Not for public consumption, though. I'll keep my morning pages to myself for now, but I will write more of them, yes.
So. Morning Pages.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
One from the "Well, this is Awkward" Department...
This summer I was contacted by someone on facebook with a friend request. His profile picture depicted an attractive silver-haired man. Problem: the photo was of a fella who lives in Hawaii, but the person who friend-requested me insisted he was a businessman in England.
The old darling flattered me effusively, saying the nicest things. Now, I know I'm likeable, but almost everyone I know really only talks to me like that after they've gotten to know me pretty well. Even my dearest friends haven't gushed that much right out of the box. "To know me is to love me," keyword: Know.
This guy can't possibly know me that well, and I am traditionally suspicious of anyone who goes on too much too soon.
I guess he caught me in a weak moment. Oh, sure, I was cautious, but, yeah, I chatted with him on facebook. He sent me more photos of the same guy. I noticed that the photos he sent me all looked like upscale clothing catalog shoots - nothing that looked like a personal photo taken with one's own camera.
Bold declarations of love, eternal love, talk of making a life together. Playing the sympathy card with talk of having been orphaned at a young age and having a four year old child whose mother died in childbirth. Asking me questions, and then telling me how oh, so very much we have in common. He was pretty slick, but there were several things that didn't feel right. He didn't Skype, for example, (and wouldn't), and while he wanted to exchange phone numbers, apparently a phone call was impossible as well. Really, I do know better, but it sure was fun to have someone make a fuss, you know? I must say, I enjoyed the rush!
It's a six hour difference between England and Oklahoma, so our window of opportunity to chat was either in the middle of my night (his early morning) or the middle of my work day (his evening), and for some odd reason, my employer actually expects me to work when I'm on the clock! Go figure. The Institute actually has an official "No Personal Texting" policy, which all employees had to read and sign. Personal texting on one's smartphone is an activity for which one could be fired on the spot. I'd like to think surely they wouldn't actually fire me, but it is the policy, and I don't want to force them into that decision. I don't have to be Norma Rae today.
Meanwhile, my daughter and her daughter came in for a visit from New York. I'd told my grown children about my "new friend," and they were both very suspicious. My sister had given me a most frightening warning about this sort of thing.
Unfortunately for this would-be relationship, this fella never gave me any information that I could verify through other sources. There was absolutely no activity on his facebook profile, and I was his only facebook friend. The timeline of the story he told me was wobbly, with the only constant being his bold and effusive declarations of eternal cosmic love. Listen, if anyone came on that quickly and with that intensity in person, I'd be looking for the nearest Order of Protection. This was too much too fast! I'm thinking the reason I didn't shut this guy right down immediately was that there was, in my mind, a sense of safety in distance. Six time zones away, he's not likely to show up out at my gate asking to be let in without me knowing about it in advance. Well, that, and how pleasant it felt to be flattered so. I'm afraid this may be one of those times where "my ego is not my amigo."
So how did I find out about the photo?
When my daughter comes for a visit, she likes to throw a get-together. The day she arrived, she had invited my niece over for a visit. My children were teasing me about my "new boyfriend," so I showed Kandice a couple of the photos of "himself" that he'd sent me. Next thing I know, she's snapping a photo of these pictures with her smartphone and telling me about a way you can Google images. I had planned to follow this up later when I had a minute after things calmed down, but it seems she got to it before I did.
She was mortified, afraid I would be angry with her, but I know she loves her Aunt Vicki and doesn't want to see me get hurt. She called my daughter to discuss how to break the news to me. Later that night, the kids came to me and said, "Hey, mom, we found something you need to see."
A little surprising, but, then again, not really. Whoever this guy really is, he's pretty good at what he does - most of the time.
I learned a lot about what is actually an industry of Internet Romance Scammers. They use flattery and pretty pictures to get your attention. They are astonishingly crafty. The rhetoric escalates, usually including talk of a visit, and then they have an "emergency" and need money. Of course, they never come to visit, because they are not at all who they represent themselves to be. It's all about the money. They target men and women. They are almost never the demographic in which they represent themselves.
I actually did "break up" with him when the kids showed me what they found, but he kept messaging me, so I played along a little bit longer, just out of curiosity. It took about six weeks from the first contact to the "emergency" request - an urgent request for a "loan" of 10,000.00 British Pounds, which is almost 16,000.00 USD.
No, I didn't send any money.
Bright sides:
Maybe the biggest bright-side of all for me is that this really shook me out of the doldrums. I am delighted to discover that I can feel again, and with that door opened, a new chapter awaits....
The old darling flattered me effusively, saying the nicest things. Now, I know I'm likeable, but almost everyone I know really only talks to me like that after they've gotten to know me pretty well. Even my dearest friends haven't gushed that much right out of the box. "To know me is to love me," keyword: Know.
This guy can't possibly know me that well, and I am traditionally suspicious of anyone who goes on too much too soon.
I guess he caught me in a weak moment. Oh, sure, I was cautious, but, yeah, I chatted with him on facebook. He sent me more photos of the same guy. I noticed that the photos he sent me all looked like upscale clothing catalog shoots - nothing that looked like a personal photo taken with one's own camera.
Bold declarations of love, eternal love, talk of making a life together. Playing the sympathy card with talk of having been orphaned at a young age and having a four year old child whose mother died in childbirth. Asking me questions, and then telling me how oh, so very much we have in common. He was pretty slick, but there were several things that didn't feel right. He didn't Skype, for example, (and wouldn't), and while he wanted to exchange phone numbers, apparently a phone call was impossible as well. Really, I do know better, but it sure was fun to have someone make a fuss, you know? I must say, I enjoyed the rush!
It's a six hour difference between England and Oklahoma, so our window of opportunity to chat was either in the middle of my night (his early morning) or the middle of my work day (his evening), and for some odd reason, my employer actually expects me to work when I'm on the clock! Go figure. The Institute actually has an official "No Personal Texting" policy, which all employees had to read and sign. Personal texting on one's smartphone is an activity for which one could be fired on the spot. I'd like to think surely they wouldn't actually fire me, but it is the policy, and I don't want to force them into that decision. I don't have to be Norma Rae today.
Meanwhile, my daughter and her daughter came in for a visit from New York. I'd told my grown children about my "new friend," and they were both very suspicious. My sister had given me a most frightening warning about this sort of thing.
Unfortunately for this would-be relationship, this fella never gave me any information that I could verify through other sources. There was absolutely no activity on his facebook profile, and I was his only facebook friend. The timeline of the story he told me was wobbly, with the only constant being his bold and effusive declarations of eternal cosmic love. Listen, if anyone came on that quickly and with that intensity in person, I'd be looking for the nearest Order of Protection. This was too much too fast! I'm thinking the reason I didn't shut this guy right down immediately was that there was, in my mind, a sense of safety in distance. Six time zones away, he's not likely to show up out at my gate asking to be let in without me knowing about it in advance. Well, that, and how pleasant it felt to be flattered so. I'm afraid this may be one of those times where "my ego is not my amigo."
So how did I find out about the photo?
When my daughter comes for a visit, she likes to throw a get-together. The day she arrived, she had invited my niece over for a visit. My children were teasing me about my "new boyfriend," so I showed Kandice a couple of the photos of "himself" that he'd sent me. Next thing I know, she's snapping a photo of these pictures with her smartphone and telling me about a way you can Google images. I had planned to follow this up later when I had a minute after things calmed down, but it seems she got to it before I did.
She was mortified, afraid I would be angry with her, but I know she loves her Aunt Vicki and doesn't want to see me get hurt. She called my daughter to discuss how to break the news to me. Later that night, the kids came to me and said, "Hey, mom, we found something you need to see."
A little surprising, but, then again, not really. Whoever this guy really is, he's pretty good at what he does - most of the time.
I learned a lot about what is actually an industry of Internet Romance Scammers. They use flattery and pretty pictures to get your attention. They are astonishingly crafty. The rhetoric escalates, usually including talk of a visit, and then they have an "emergency" and need money. Of course, they never come to visit, because they are not at all who they represent themselves to be. It's all about the money. They target men and women. They are almost never the demographic in which they represent themselves.
I actually did "break up" with him when the kids showed me what they found, but he kept messaging me, so I played along a little bit longer, just out of curiosity. It took about six weeks from the first contact to the "emergency" request - an urgent request for a "loan" of 10,000.00 British Pounds, which is almost 16,000.00 USD.
No, I didn't send any money.
Bright sides:
- I had a clue
- I had savvy family members who knew how to find out about these things
- I listened to the people who love me
- I didn't send anybody any money
Maybe the biggest bright-side of all for me is that this really shook me out of the doldrums. I am delighted to discover that I can feel again, and with that door opened, a new chapter awaits....
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