not enough
-time (in the day/week/year/lifetime to do what i need/want/should do)
-stuff left for me (i hoard belongings/money. afraid of running out.)
-people who might understand me.
-opportunities in the world for me. (i'm worthy but somehow someone else will always get the position/recognition that i wanted. i have an inferiority complex about getting hired at a job because i don't have "people skills." afraid my accomplishments are inadequate to represent who i am and how capable i am.)

too much
-stuff (consumption makes me sick)
-money spending
-weight/food eaten
-that i want to do (so i try to suppress my dreams, or have only small dreams, because i'm afraid they'll never happen.)

my brain says: not enough. not enough time. it's too late today (at noon even) to call the psychiatrist. it's too late to learn a (5th) language, find a plan, get on track to grad school, get involved in something. not enough. i didn't do enough. i could have done better. i could do better in the future but i don't want to hope too much or i might be let down. what if i tried to be a photojournalist and failed. better to only have small short term hopes.

i can be unbelievably optimistic in the short term. funny. i just spent hours turning all of c.'s negative thoughts into positive hopeful thoughts. i felt magical. i am actually really happy. until i think of the future further than a few months away.

but donna has long term dreams, some unrealistic to a practical mind, but so hopeful and uplifting, even for me just listening to her talk about them. get a mercedes. go to china. get rich. i should have dreams too. but when i start thinking of them... be a teacher... travel to spain, china, russia... go to grad school... be a photographer... my brain *shuts down*. if it didn't happen.. wouldn't i be so disappointed?

no. the journey is what's important. like todi said, you never regret going somewhere once you actually go there. i wouldn't regret trying even if i failed. the process would be so rewarding in itself. that's what i have to remember. trying is the important part. the ends don't justify the means. the means justify the means.

so let the dreams begin.

* play piano more. play guitar more. learn violin someday.
* live in spain/china/anywhere outside the us
* graduate from reed in anthropology
* go to grad school? if i feel like it.
* be a teacher (high school or college)
* learn calligraphy
* make clothing, like i used to
* be a nomad
* be a nomad and/or have a commune thingy with donna/sam/whoever is in our "tribe." synchronize our lives so we're actually in the same place most of the time.
* be a bicycle messenger
* have enough money/stability to have kids (name them mossy and tangle.)
* learn russian/chinese/etc. get better at french/spanish/greek
* write old friends handwritten letters with artistic envelopes like i used to.
* go new places and meet new people
* if not academic teacher, be a yoga teacher, massage therapist, etc
* or, be a petitioner (donna said i was really good at it!! and i *loved* it!!!)

really improbable but beautiful dreams that i almost never let myself think about
(this is difficult even now, to imagine them, because of the potential pain if they didn't happen.):

* write for a magazine/newspaper
* write a book/ contribute photos to a book.
* be a photographer of portland. sell my photographs in galleries.
* learn ballet. or belly dancing.
* get involved in politics
* someday own a house in portland (eastside). maybe even a car (old volvo station wagon)
* fall in love with someone who really understands.

wow. dreaming is fun. i don't think i've ever done that before. because of fear.

and i should stop that little voice that says "it's too late. you didn't do enough already. you can't start now. there are too many other people trying to do that..." even the ones that sound kind of easy, like, "call so and so" or, "take this class," my brain says, "it's too late." fuck you, stupid voice. they're my fucking dreams and you can't take them from me. i deserve my dreams.

on another subject, donna and i entertain like russians. we invite people over, sit them down at the kitchen table, serve them tea and alcohol, and talk for hours. then we go on the balcony and watch the sunset. but russians are always talking about the time spent "at table," how it's "time out of time," not soiled by "byt" (the pettiness of everyday life.) "at table" is soul time, time that nurtures the soul. i am trying to be more aware of my soul. i'm sure dale pesmen didn't mean "russia and soul" as a self help book, but it's an interesting guide to soulful behavior if you read it the right way. the soul rises for many reasons.

dreams feed the soul. love, becky