"'How do I get rid of the fear?'
Alas, this is the wrong question.
The only way to get rid of the fear is to stop doing things that might not work, to stop putting yourself out there, to stop doing work that matters.
No, the right question is, 'How do I dance with the fear?'
Fear is not the enemy. Paralysis is the enemy."
Monday, April 21, 2014
"'How do I get rid of the fear?'
On another note, managed to finish Britt's black and pink scarf last night (when I crochet, I feel close to Mom since that's one activity we used to share). All I have to do is add the fringe at the bottom of Britt's scarf and it'll be ready to wear.
Next up: Cait's red and black scarf (*Cait is Jon's beautiful and amazing gf). Then, hopefully, after I'm done with that one, I can finally dig into making one for me (purple and black are the already chosen colors).
I also plan to make fingerless gloves to keep my hands warm while I'm working here in the office. Oh! And doggie sweaters are on tap -- two of them. One for Bandit (affectionately known as Bandersnatch, Dita, or Banders) and the other for Cosmo (affectionately known as Momo, Momo-chan, or Cosmonaut).
I'm also working on a baby blanket to give as a gift. Besides writing, editing, tarot readings, astro/numerology readings, website updates, and other stuff, I'm going to keep my mind and hands busy over the coming days/weeks to help keep me focused as I deal with the loss of Mom.
An idle mind or hands would be bad news for me. Already prone to depression. So...gotta stay busy!
Sunday, April 20, 2014
In remembrance to my mother, Shirley, who passed away Saturday morning at sunrise after a long and tough battle with Alzheimer's, I have set up a remembrance altar. Each night for the next week I will light up this altar in her honor.
Rest in peace: Shirley Ann (Schumaker) Walton Thayer. DOB 7-29-34 DOD 4-19-14.
I love you, Mom.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Cross-posted: My brother Leo sent me a photo of my mom sleeping. It looked like a 19th century death photo—not kidding. I'm still trying to process it.
She isn't coherent and isn't able to communicate with me over the phone. She is having massive panic attacks and is combative with staff. She no longer recognizes my brother and I doubt she knows who I am anymore.
I'm sorry to be a downer, but I can't not mention all this, because it's what's happening now and it's my mother. I cannot not discuss how devastating this is and how it's affecting my every waking moment. How I know I need to be at peace with letting her go because she needs to transition peacefully, but how I'm not ready to lose my mother. She adopted me, raised me, made me who I am in so many ways. But in the end, to love her is to want final peace for her.
When she is gone, a big part of me will go with her.
I want to thank my loving, sensitive husband for being with me at this time and helping me through this. He is an angel incarnate. Such a gentle, understanding soul. I love you, Paul.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Visit my Nocturnal Divination Etsy shop for autographed books, ebooks, AstroCreativity readings, and more!Posted by Bev Walton-Porter at 5:07 AM
There are now several more items in my Nocturnal Divination Etsy shop. Everything from a single-card draw tarot reading for a dollar to relationship (synastry) astrological chart readings. I also have eBooks and autographed print books available (limited supply).
Please stop by and have a look! There are several more items that will be added for a total of ten to choose from. From there on, items will be swapped out on occasion and new ones introduced.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Quite often, my dreams scare me. They're always intense, always intricate, always complex. Unfortunately, I don't always dream of good things. I dream of horrific things. On occasion, I dream of things that happen in real life. I also dream about things that could happen in real life, but haven't. Still, the thought that they could completely horrifies and haunts me.
An example would be the dream I had last night. In the dream, my husband and I were at a mall. Now, in real life, I avoid malls like the plague. I don't care for crowds, I hate shopping (didn't get that female gene, apparently). If I could order everything online, I would. I'm an introvert, so going to the mall isn't my thing. Too many people, too much noise, too much sensory irritation.
But I digress...
In the dream, we noticed a small, remote-controlled Army-green truck buzzing along through the mall. I looked around, but didn't see who was operating it. I shrugged it off because there were toy stores in the mall, as there always are. Probably someone trying out the truck for their kid or something, I figured.
Suddenly, the small truck exploded, but it was such a massive explosion that it blew up a huge part of the mall. People were running and we were trying to get out of there to save our lives. Apparently, a person had fitted the small truck with some sort of explosive that was powerful enough to detonate and cause bodily injury and massive property damage. In hindsight, after we escaped, we realized it had been a terrorist attack! Needless to say, I was shaken up after the dream. It was too real, and the fear I felt was palpable.
I recounted the dream to my husband upon awakening, telling him that the scariest part about the dream was that it seemed like something that could happen in real life, if some diabolical, heartless SOB decided to do such a thing. This is why I say my dreams are often so terrifying and realistic that I wake up traumatized.
Who wants to dream about such things—and then worry about them happening in real life? I know there's a slim chance that anything like that would happen, but with the constant influx of bad news in the world and not knowing what terrible people are out there and what is brewing in their twisted minds, I DO worry about such things. After all, I live in Colorado Springs, which isn't that far from the Aurora theater where James Holmes decided to maim and kill people who'd innocently gone to see a Batman movie in July of 2012.
I also tend to have night terrors, and my poor husband has been on the receiving end of those terrors one too many times. Instead of running from my terrors, I tend to charge at whatever it is (or what I think I'm seeing) and I try to fight it. As you can imagine, this isn't a safe response for anybody in the same bed or in the same room.
I suffer from PTSD (diagnosed in mid-2006), so night terrors have been a part of my life for a while. They're not fun, and there's certainly nothing funny about them. If you've never felt genuine terror take hold of your body and shake you from the inside out, I can tell you it's not pleasant. It is NOT true that only combat veterans, police officers, or firefighters have PTSD. Civilians and everyday people have it as well.
Having an overactive imagination is a blessing and a curse. When I was a small girl, the pediatrician told my mother I shouldn't watch any shows with frightening or supernatural images. According to her, he said my imagination was such that even watching something as seemingly harmless as Casper the Ghost could frighten me and cause me to have issues. Quite frankly, I didn't care about Casper as much as I did Dark Shadows. Mom would send me for a nap when Dark Shadows was on, but I remember trying to peek around the corner so I could watch it.
Thankfully, I grew up and was finally able to see classic episodes of the campy soap opera that featured vampires, werewolves, witches, and the like. I also grew up loving dark fiction, cutting my teeth on Stephen King's books as a young girl. My husband and I have a huge collection of horror movies, both classic and modern. You can try to take the girl out of the horror, but in the end you can't take the horror out of the girl.
There's a good chance I'll keep dreaming horrifying dreams. I'll wake up terrified—and sometimes crying—but I doubt my mind will ever stop conjuring up intense stories, characters, or plots. I try to remember some of them and jot them down, especially if I think those stories might lead to a viable short story or a novel. Other dream tales I don't care to remember because they're too traumatic or distasteful. Most of all, I can only hope that the other dreams I have—of tragedies about to happen or those that could happen in real life—don't occur at all.
Yes, I know it's not healthy to live in fear, but I think it's wise to be aware of our surroundings, to take note of anything that seems out of place, and to report it to authorities if you have any suspicions. We are all busy, we all have lives to lead, we all have errands to run. But in this day and age, vigilance is imperative; we must look out for one another. We all exist in our own microcosm to some degree, but we should make an effort to remember that we are also connected to others and to the larger world in general. We are all responsible, to some degree, for what happens in this world while we're in it.
With that said, I hope my dream never comes true. Maybe by writing this blog post, the potential for this dream-horror will be snuffed out, never to manifest into reality. I pray it never does.
In my oddly optimistic way, I wish more people would evolve, stop engaging senseless violence, realize we are all connected, and begin to act in a more self-actualized way. I want my children to grow up in a world that's kinder and more thoughtful. Unfortunately, that's one pleasant waking dream I'll probably never see realized. But one can hope, right?
Sunday, January 12, 2014
The advice, as told to me in my dream, was this: "Serve your own plate."
It is a metaphor for life, and for choosing what's best for you in your life. The meaning behind it is simple: when you go to put food on your plate (perhaps at a smörgåsbord or potluck, for instance), serve your own plate. You alone should choose what items you put on your plate. Do not give your plate to anybody else, and do not let anyone else determine the things you will have on your plate. Select items you most want and desire, because it is your plate (your life). Since you'll be eating those things (experiencing those things in life), you alone should determine which choices are best for you.
The advice in my dream was simple, but profound. I really had to sit with it and think about it for a while. It still resonates with me days later.
It's not uncommon for me to see names, words, phrases in my dreams—actually written out so I can read them. This has been happening with me for the past several years. It's a new development, as I have not had it for most of my life. However, in this dream, the advice was not written out, but spoken.
Again, I do not recall who gave me this advice, but I am grateful for it. I felt the need to share it with you all, because I believe it's something you, too, need to hear.
So, this is your plate. It's called life. Serve your own plate!
Friday, December 27, 2013
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