Thursday night. I spent the entire afternoon transcribing my previous journal into Word documents. It is a fascinating process, again, to so closely review my writings and the thoughts and events they describe. Transcribing allows me to rather carefully look at each and every word I’ve recorded, not quickly skimming over them, as I can easily do when I just read. It felt very grounding to perform this exercise. It is a recapturing of those internal and external events. In the process, I recognize some patterns before not noticed, remember certain events already forgotten. It is a validation of myself, a dis-earsure of my life. It creates more coherence in how I understand myself. This is enormously important for me, such self-understanding. It weaves a fabric of Coherence in which to enfold myself. This coherence is, perhaps, my truest place of Home.

A recent theme in working with various cllients has been: Taking Oneself Seriously. I see that for myself, a key element of this seriousness is Memory. If I forget what is important to me, I forget what it is that I intend to do. Appalling it is, how quickly even the most significant and passionately held beliefs and desires can be washed our of the fabric of my life, washed away into the oblivion of forgetulness and Forgotten-ness by the relentless churning of quotidian concerns.

It is so important to, first, Perceive, and, then, to Remember. The need for Mindfulness is paramount, to be able to focus on what is Significant, truly Significant, not just what is Big and Loud.

I simply do better in my life when I allocate time and space for meditative and self-reflective activities. It’s not, I must emphaszie for my own benefit, about being „groovy“ or any such thing. No, it’s that I am better balanced, I am more focused, I am more at Home in myself when self-reflecting and centering.

Home is predictability. It is coherence. These Ways of being and understanding are „places“ where I may rest and gain Succor. This is where Oren resides, as does Dieviņš. Practicing Mindfulness, Dreamfulness, Heartfulness, I am able to retreat from Chaos into Cosmos.

Perhaps a fundamental thing that I must practice taking seriously is my relationship with Home, to remember each day to return there. Yes, to take Coming Home very joyfully seriously, which, first off, means to allocate time for this Returning.

Last night I had a long caesura in the middle of my sleep, a time of semi-wakefulness. I was restless. It didn’t feel fruitful. No dreams recalled.

D called this morning to cancel our scheduled getting together, which I’d written in my calendar as being today, but she had down as being tomorrow. She said she needs to finish painting rooms before leaving this weekend for a spa in Napa. Not the cancellation itself, but something about this interaction felt odd. Certainly the fact that I could well have driven out to her abode today for naught. As I jot these words down, mgmt co’s Bathsheba comes to mind, and the misunderstanding about Tuesday’s HOA meeting. I don’t want to make a Big Deal of such events. Misunderstandings happen all the time. I goof up with regularity and alacrity. What causes me unease is when it seems that the Other is not taking me or our connection, seriously. Particularly women. So many instances of feeling Let Down by females in the last several years. I’m uncertain when to blow oversights off and move on, and when to deal with them as something Serious.

Of course, the key is to not blow myself off. regardless of how the Other acts. Even if their actions are dissing me, intentionally or not, to not lose my footing and diss myself. I am so terribly prone to bailing on myself whenever someone else bails on me. I understand where these Patterns comes from. I am understanding with a new sense of Horror how it separates me from living my Dreams and Passions. Ack!

Ballpark Neighborhood Assn meeting last night at Snooze. Such a difficult ongoing issue, how to negotiate living and businessing alongside the homeless folk. Truly difficult.

We attended a Show & Event at Plus Gallery that commemorated the gallery’s first five years. The featured artist was the eighty-plus-year-old owner of Rockmont Western Wear. The paintings held no interest whatsoever for me. It strikes me that Igor did this mostly as a ploy, to be „avant garde“ and to curry favor with a moneyed crowd. He seems to be trying to cultivate an Image, a role of Art Impresario, that seems a bit phony to me. I realize I’m taking this all much too seriously.