Bonus RealityMagical Journey

Tis the season but I Refuse to get Depressed

November doesn’t actually have 31 days in it which means December is the day after tomorrow. I reaffirmed my ambitions last night during a conversation with Zeffy, who informed me earlier that day… during his 9am break chat time… that he might be depressed or perhaps he’s lost his motivation. Coming from someone else, this sounds like a person done with life {as in creeping toward suicidal} but that’s not the case for Zeffy. He’s too stubborn and arrogant to, shall we say, clock himself out early—I’m the same way. It’s as fascinating as it is terrifying, however, the ways in which a person {or man} manages to continue living… without actually living. Various writers and philosophers have been using words to describe this phenomenon for a long time—I’ll wager it goes as far back as money.

Last night during a short rant, Zeffy complained about how some of the interior trim on our house isn’t up {we’ve actually got a great stash of it in the basement, some of it prepped} even though this house has been standing for 30 years. He shares the simple fact that after he’s worked all day, sometimes hard and fast for many hours, he’s not the least bit interested in putting up trim once he gets home. There’s a sad irony here; he actually built much of this house with his own 2 hands, often after a full day at work. I’m not sure when his financial situation became so ominous—around this time last year he saved money for months so to pay his taxes on time, but then we had to replace the water heater in December {I think}. I think we were too focused on saving money… we got a tankless system that really didn’t do it’s job well. For the next several months, I boiled water to wash dishes in the sink and our showers were fast and uncomfortable.

We made this plan, but it doesn’t seem to be going well. The agreement is that Zeffy would do what he could for income until my writing could take care of us. To be brutally honest, early on we agreed that this pressure might trigger writer’s block and therefore we’d buy the occasional lottery ticket which would give us money for cushion or something. I think this was 6 or 7 years ago.

My spirit guides talked about our unhealthy relationship with money and I have no grounds from which to argue. I’ve examined my personal connection, Zeffy has done the same; but I wonder if we have yet to properly examine our, err, together feelings. Some time ago… I vaguely remember reading an article, or perhaps heard some cynical adult talking… the idea was that as important as love is for an adult romantic relationship, love alone didn’t always keep people together. I realized, theoretically, that even though love is the answer… money is the problem and therefore you need both to succeed in this life.

Some months or whatever back, I thought I’d shed whatever remaining blockages I had toward receiving wealth. I realized that, to me, having money was like having power… which is something I haven’t had much experience with. Zeffy’s blockage took a different form because he felt like people with lots of money were schmucks, or lack of a better word, and he was a better person than that… therefore he couldn’t have lots of money. This is one of the reasons why I’m constantly talking about the communication between our conscious and subconscious selves, we are constantly molding our life experience and it’s disturbingly easy to get trapped in ‘a hole’ as many people call it. I always preferred the term ‘painted into a corner’ because I imagine, worst case scenario is you metaphorically sit in a stinky room waiting for paint to dry. I don’t like the ‘hole’ metaphor, probably because I dream a lot… and vividly.

Like last night {or early this morning, hahaha} when I was visiting… hard to say where, to be honest, I moved through several ‘stages’ as it were. The one of them was a huge store, like the Hastings we had—only this place was massive. I vaguely recall 2 friends plus Zeffy {the 1 friend is someone we actually know, the other might have been Chris Hemsworth or James MacAvoy or one of them medium build, light skin, male helper-type character that are so useful to have around}

It was awesome to have a helper-type character within yelling range because in the books part of this enormous store, there was this… how to even describe it? Imagine a small swimming pool full of books, maybe some kind of conveyor belt on the one end, and definitely a pouring element. I saw a few books I wanted, some reaching was involved—but the next thing I know, I’m in amongst all these dozens or hundreds of books and it’s like quicksand and I’m scared. I remember the books over my head {not directly, I was pulled out before I got any farther}. In retrospect, I probably should have simply gone with the flow… because later when we circle back around, so I can pick up the books, most of the books set up was changed. There were tall shelves loaded with books, games {computer and telly} and movies/shows… they even had a shelf off by itself that held several VHS stories, though I don’t remember what other than South Park.

The great pool of books was nearly empty, having been sorted when I was elsewhere; I never found the books I’d spotted earlier. A shop helper was this lovely woman who attempted to help me locate them… but then I realized I didn’t remember what titles they were, or any details for her to work with.

Probably for this and other reasons “painted into a corner” is my preferred metaphor;