Posted by: Dingo | October 30, 2006

The October Moon on the Eve of Halloween

A funny thing happened to me today. I decided to live. What does that mean you ask? Let me start at the beginning . . .

Today, the day I decided to live, started very much as it had yesterday, and virtually everyday in between since the day I died. I won’t tell you the date I died, but I will tell you “today” is October 30, 2006. I woke up in pain. I can best describe my pain as an almost never ending, all consuming and enveloping flame; a flame that elementally consists of anguish, fear, and the self-loathing knowledge that I have failed to contain this self-imposed prison of a shell of this body I must call ‘mine’ can bear. I asked myself, “Self, what do you plan on doing today?” I had to think quickly before my husband realized I was awake. Self replied, “What do you have think you have to do, really, besides what you must before you can escape your pain.” Hmm, I thought. I wondered how many hours I would have to endure the pain today before I can return to bed, and escape?

Let’s see. I recalled it was around 10 AM. My husband was going to ask me what I was doing, so I informed both of us my plans for the day. “Good morning, sweetie.” I said to Cosmo. “I have to see my doctor today, around 2 or 2:30 PM, and I don’t know what else I’m doing after then.” My husband looked at me and replied, “Good morning to you too. How do you feel?” after noticing my routine grimace of agony spread across my face. I replied, “Like hell. How about you?” “It’s Monday. How do you think it is?” he said. I don’t go to work myself, because of my pain, yet I replied as though I did. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I stated, as I started quickly to drift away from Cosmo and into the enveloping arms of Pain. I recall thinking, as I’m now rushing completely to the nether region of my soul, ‘I’m the Queen of Pain, and I’ll never be anything else but the Queen’, as the syncronicity of the hauntingly meloncholic melody of Sting’s song “King of Pain” synapses through my mind and washes over me. I decide then that I’ll try to stay in bed as long as I can before I must attend my appointment. This is a decision that we both know I’d make.

So, up to now, what does any of this have to do with anything, you ask? Well, I attended my appointment. I went through the motions of living while at the doctor’s office; speaking to the staff, etc.; and continued the motions throughout the day, everywhere I went, until I arrived home. Once back home, I noticed I was in time to see that “Oprah” was recording on my ReplayTV unit. I faded in and out during the show, because I really wasn’t interested in what was actually happening on “Oprah”. I was actively listening to my wireless headphones, picking up on what I considered to be the theme of the day in my sub-consciousness. I listened to Sting sing “Tomorrow We’ll See” from his cd “Brand New Day.” Digesting his words as they stimulate my senses, I hear “Don’t judge me.” The words ring true in my ears. “Don’t judge me”, I tell myself. “Don’t judge me” sings Sting, and as I continue to think to myself, I’m drawn to look at the television. In that moment, I feel inspired. It is a thought that courses through my essence, and a word I hear whispered in my ear. Inspire. I contemplate the word, the meaning, and what it means to me as I find I’m inspired to watch what’s going on with Oprah. I pause Sting so I can listen to Oprah, and I realize immediately, that Oprah is actually asking for inspiration, as she’s simultaneously showing her favorite forms of inspiration to her audience and me. As I fully comprehend what’s happening, Oprah has reached the pinnacle of her episode. Oprah gives out $1,000. to the live audience, courtesy of Bank of America. She gives specific directions as to how this money is to be spent. And I am inspired, and find that I have found the meaning of everything with the challenge that this gift Oprah has given. With Oprah’s credits rolling across my television screen, I ponder, what I would do with the money Oprah gave? I’m a disabled housewife from Olympia, Washington, but how does that make me any different than the audience in Chicago? I’m no different than they. Think about it. I did.

I have decided to live, and by living, I too can help. I can live. And now, we are to the point of what this all has to do with you. Please read on.

I would like to document what I’m going to do to contribute to inspiration. First, I’m going to push myself through the pain. I’m reclaiming my body, mind and soul. I tried to remember what I used to do before I died, and I remembered a soul memory. I listened to the words and music of Sting, and as I did, I worked through my turmoil. Whether that turmoil or pain was presented in a mental or physical state, dancing and singing was my soul’s physical release from my troubles. I’m blessed with a state of peace of mind and rare moments of tranquility while I listen to Sting. Always have, and always will. Since that’s the case, I plan on listening to Sting music as I push myself to learn to live again. First, I must get back on my feet again, if I’m to walk away from misery. And my feet will start with the use of my husband’s elliptical exercise machine, to give me the strength and discipline to stay out of bed and stay in life. So I ask of you, my friends, to be inspired enough to send a thought of good wishes to me, and follow along with me as I embark on my journey. Follow along with me by reading what I do tomorrow. Tomorrow is a brand new day, and I have things to do. Tune in tomorrow, and we’ll see what I do with my life, and how my inspiration to help inspire others germinates.

Until tomorrow, be good to yourself. If you don’t, you’ll miss out on your life, and nothing’s more tragic than a life wasted. I just hope I can sleep so I’ll have some more to report, but until then, I’m satisfied that my first day is good, and the moon in the October sky is beautiful.


Photo Credit: idua japan

With Love and inspiration for us all,

Dingo Stewart

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